Seed of Evil (6 page)

The four young women wore their best dresses, their lustrous hair freshly washed and braided.

As they wound down the last stretch of trail to the mercantile, Chases Rabbits glanced back, his gaze lingering on Raven On The Ground. To his mind, she was the most beautiful, but he had to admit they were all lovely. He hoped the whites would be pleased.

Chases Rabbits was resplendent himself. He wore his new white buckskins and the new moccasins his mother had made. His rifle gleamed in the sun. He imagined that he was as handsome as a man could be.

The trail widened and Raven On The Ground brought her mare up next to him. Her eyes were lively and excited, her full lips spread in a smile. “I am proud of you.”

Chases Rabbits’s cheeks burned. “What have I done?” he asked.

“You know very well. You are doing more to help our people than any warrior since Long Hair. You are to the Apsaalooke as Grizzly Killer is to the Shoshones.”

Chases Rabbits thought it should be as Grizzly Killer’s wife, Winona, was to her people, but he let it pass and gloried in the compliment. “I do what I can.”

“You will be one of the great ones. Everyone says so.”

It had long been Chases Rabbits’s secret dream to be just that, but he didn’t reply.

“The woman who takes you for her husband will be envied above all others.”

Among the Crows, it was the custom for a man who married to move into the lodge of his wife’s mother. Chases Rabbits was not overly fond of Raven On The Ground’s mother; she complained too much, about everything. But he would not have to talk to her. Another Crow custom was that once a man married into a family, he never spoke to his mother-in-law again, and she was never to speak to him.

“I would not say no were you to ask me,” Raven On The Ground said.

Chases Rabbits felt a flutter in his chest. There it was, out in the open. “You could not be a wife and be away working for the whites.”

“No,” Raven On The Ground conceded. “My place would be in my lodge with my husband. But I will not work for the whites long. Only enough time for a new blanket and a few other things I want.”

“We will talk of marriage more then,” Chases Rabbits said, hardly able to believe his wonderful fortune.

“I see a happy life for us. You will be high in the council and we will have many horses and dogs.”

Chases Rabbits almost bit his tongue to keep from responding. The Crows had more dogs than any other tribe. It wasn’t unusual for a warrior to have several. He didn’t own a single one. He would never say so, but he didn’t like them. He didn’t like how they smelled, didn’t like how they panted and barked and sniffed and scratched themselves. And he really didn’t like it when a dog licked him. Dog
slobber made his stomach churn. Suddenly he was aware that the love of his life was still talking to him.

“…saw great promise in you that the others did not. You are a friend of Grizzly Killer, and he is thought highly of by all the tribes.”

“Not all.” Chases Rabbits could think of a few who would like nothing better than to count coup on Nate.

Ahead, the mercantile and the outbuildings rose out of the basin like squat fingers thrust at the sky.

Chases Rabbits sat straighter. He was conscious of the gazes of Crows already there, and of men and women from other tribes who had likewise come to trade. All were from friendly tribes, so there was no danger. He rode to the hitch rail, but it was full, so he reined to the side and slid down. No sooner had his feet touched the ground than Geist was there, pumping his hand. Behind him were Petrie and the man with the gray hair and floppy hat.

“Chases Rabbits! You came just like you said you would. And you’ve brought four beauties with you.”

Chases Rabbits introduced the women. He didn’t mention that Raven On The Ground was his sweetheart. These were whites, after all, and while he liked them, his personal life was none of their affair.

“Ladies, I am right pleased to meet you,” Geist said. “Tell them for me, will you?”

Chases Rabbits complied.

“Say that we will make their stay here well worth their while. Tomorrow I will explain exactly what it is they’re to do, and until then they’re free to roam around and look at all the merchandise.”

“You need me stay to speak your words?” Chases Rabbits asked.

“That’s not necessary,” Geist said. He indicated
the gray-haired man with the floppy hat. “Dryfus here knows sign language.”

This was news to Chases Rabbits. He had the impression they did not know much about Indian ways. “Where him learn?”

“He was a trapper once,” Geist explained. “I take it your squaws can use sign?”

“Raven On The Ground good at finger talk,” Chases Rabbits proudly revealed. They often signed affection to each other.

“Good. Then we’ll communicate through her. You can go back to your village and leave the rest to us.”

Chases Rabbits was surprised that they wanted him to go so soon. “I stay. Make sure all go well.”

“There’s no need,” Geist said, and clapped him on the back. “I’ve imposed on your goodwill enough as it is.” He crooked a finger at Petrie. “My pard here will take you inside and let you pick whatever you would like for bringing the women. Within reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Chases Rabbits echoed as he had heard whites do, although he was not quite sure what he was agreeing too. Reluctantly, he followed Petrie into the mercantile while Geist and Dryfus escorted the women toward the new structure.

“What is it you’d like?” Petrie asked. “A knife? Ammunition? What?”

“I have new knife,” Chases Rabbits said, and patted it. “I not sure.”

“Then look around. There’s no rush. I’ll be having a drink. Give a holler if you need me.”

“I give.” Chases Rabbits moved down an aisle, absently fingering clothes and blankets and tools. He was thinking of Raven On The Ground. He would rather be with her.

Someone nudged him, and Chases Rabbits turned. “Toad,” he said, and the stout man put a finger to his lips.

“Not so loud or they’ll hear you and wonder what I’m up to.”

“Sorry?”

Toad glanced around as if he was afraid. In a whisper he said, “If I give you something, will you get it to Nate King?”

“Give me what?” Chases Rabbits asked.

Toad reached into a pocket and pulled out a folded sheet. “This.”

“It called paper.” Chases Rabbits had seen paper before, at the King cabin.

“It’s a message for him and him alone. No one else is to read it. Can you do that?”

“I can do, yes.”

Toad gripped Chases Rabbits’s wrist so hard it hurt. “You don’t realize how important this is. Important for your people and important for you.”

“I can do,” Chases Rabbits repeated, disturbed at how upset the man was.

“Take it,” Toad said, and started to put the paper in Chases Rabbits’ hand.

“What’s going on here?”

Toad gave a start.

Chases Rabbits saw him quickly lower the paper behind his leg, adopt a broad smile, and turn. He did the same, bewildered as to what was going on.

“I asked you a question,” Petrie said to Toad. “What are you two up to?”

“Nothing much,” Toad responded.

Petrie came down the aisle and looked from one of them to the other. “Suppose you tell me, Crow.”

“My name Chases Rabbits.”

“I know what the hell it is. What I don’t know is what he was whispering to you about.”

Toad said, “He asked if I had any spyglasses to sell and I told him I didn’t.”

“Is that true?” Petrie asked.

Chases Rabbits tried to recall if he knew what a spyglass was. Then he remembered the fabulous brass tube Nate King owned that could bring far objects up close. “I want spyglass many winters.” Which was true; he’d desired one ever since Nate let him look through his.

Petrie sniffed and wheeled, making for the entrance.

“That was close,” Toad said. “If they catch me with this, my goose is cooked.”

Chases Rabbits’s mother had plucked and roasted geese a few times. Grouse, too. And quail. Even an owl once. “Better cooked than raw.”

Toad didn’t seem to hear him. He glanced down at the folded paper. “Perhaps I should rethink this. Breathing is better than not breathing.”

“Breathing good,” Chases Rabbits agreed.

“I have a better idea. Bring Nate King here. Will you do that for me? I’ll give you a pistol for your very own if you do.”

Chases Rabbits tingled with excitement. Few Crow warriors owned rifles; fewer still owned a rifle
and
a pistol. “Me happy bring him.”

“If he wants to know what it’s about,” Toad said, “tell him there are foxes in the chicken coop.”

“You have chickens?” Chases Rabbits would like a few. Their eggs were delicious.

Toad gripped the front of his shirt. “Swear to me by all you hold holy that you’ll bring him. Bring him just as fast as you can.”

“I do for you,” Chases Rabbits promised, wondering why it was so urgent.

“Good.” Toad shoved the paper into his pocket. “Because if you don’t, you’ll be sorry.” He lumbered away.

His mind in a jumble, Chases Rabbits went out. He stared at the new lodge the women were in and wished he could talk to Raven On The Ground before he left. But Toad had been clear he must hurry. So he climbed on his horse and rode west, hoping Raven On The Ground would forgive him for leaving without saying good-bye and that she would be all right until he got back.

Louisa King loved her husband dearly. She loved him passionately. She loved him with all that she was—yet there were times when he did things that drove her to distraction. Little things, like always expecting her to clean up after they ate. His pa, Nate, helped Winona, but Zach wouldn’t wash a pan or a plate unless she practically begged him. And there were the big things, like the time she had to endure the terror of Zach being put on trial for murder.

She never knew what to expect next. He was forever doing things that surprised her, such as taking her to Bent’s Fort for a new shawl on the spur of the moment after she casually mentioned she would like one, or going off after a cow that time she’d mentioned how much she missed drinking milk.

But she never, ever expected him to do what he had done now.

“Let me get this straight. I’m in the family way, and you bring home a wolf?”

“I think it’s my old pet Blaze,” Zach said, rubbing the animal’s neck.

“I’m going to have a
baby
and you bring home a
wolf
?”

“Why are you making such a fuss? I thought you liked animals.”

“I do,” Lou said. “I like cats some. I like dogs more. I think puppies are adorable.”

“Look at him. He’s adorable, too.”

Lou looked. She had never seen such a scruffy, emaciated animal in her life. It was a wonder it was still breathing. Its bones about popped from its body, its face was sunken, and its legs were sticks. “I don’t reckon it has long to live.”

“What a terrible thing to say.” Zach scratched under the wolf’s chin, and it licked him.

“He’s skin and bones,” Lou said. “And he was limping when you rode in.”

“Yet he kept up with me.” Zach patted the wolf on its front shoulders. “I honest to God think it’s Blaze.”

Lou gazed at the dun and then at the ground around them and then back at the wolf. “And you were so excited at finding him that you forgot to bring home the fresh meat I asked for.”

“What?”

“Unless it’s invisible, I don’t see a deer anywhere.”

“Oh.”

“Sometimes, Zachary King, you are a vexation.”

“I know I’m in trouble when you get all formal.” Zach turned and swung onto the dun. “Blaze and me will go hunt. We shouldn’t be gone long.”

“You don’t know for sure it’s him.”

“What other wolf would be half as friendly?” Zach reined around. “Come on, Blaze. We’ll leave her to her mood.” He jabbed his heels and rode into the woods. The wolf stayed at his side, just as Blaze used to do. Zach grinned. He had loved that wolf.
They had been inseparable. If this truly was Blaze, it would be like old times.

Zach thought of another test, a trick he had taught Blaze when Blaze was small. “I’m after a deer,” he said, and then repeated with emphasis, “Deer. Deer. Deer.”

The wolf looked up at him with a quizzical expression.

“Don’t you remember?” Zach asked. “Deer meat.”

They had gone barely a dozen yards when the wolf abruptly stopped. Zach drew rein. The wolf raised its muzzle and sniffed, turning its head from side to side as it tested the wind. Then it turned to the northeast. Zach followed. Thick brush appeared, and the wolf peered into it with an intensity that made Zach smile.

“You do remember.”

Zach dismounted. He wedged the Hawken to his shoulder and thumbed back the hammer. At the
click
the wolf glanced up sharply and took a step back. Zach moved toward the brush. Crouching, he scoured the shadows and nooks. He began to think the wolf was mistaken. Then he registered movement; a doe was rising from her bed, looking straight at them. He didn’t have a clear shot. Sidling to his right, he saw her plainly.

A stroke of the trigger, and the heavy ball cored her skull, splattering brains and hair.

Zach laughed happily. “Lou will get her fresh meat now.” He started to go in after it, then stopped. He mustn’t violate the cardinal rule of survival in the wilds: always reload after he shot. His pa had ingrained that into him from the day he was old enough to hold a gun. Methodically, he opened his powder horn and poured the proper amount down
the barrel. From his ammo pouch he took a bullet and wrapped it in a patch, then slid the ramrod from its housing and tamped the ball and patch down the barrel.

The wolf sat and watched.

“You remember me doing this all the time, don’t you?” Zach had never been much of a talker; Lou was always saying how he never gabbed enough. But he’d always talked to Blaze. “Why did you shy like that when I was getting set to shoot?” As he recalled, Blaze had gotten used to guns. Even the blast wouldn’t spook him.

Zach took a stride to go in after the doe and the wolf took a limping step to follow. It was favoring its left front leg. On a sudden hunch, Zach stopped and hunkered. “Let me have a gander at that, boy.” The wolf didn’t snarl or bare its teeth as he gently moved his hand up and down. Where the leg widened into the body he found thick scar tissue. He moved the hair, and frowned. The scar was perfectly round.