Read Online Murder at Medicine Lodge by Mardi Oakley Medawar - Free Book Online

Sergeant Hicks was a stocky man with rough, weathered skin and, when he removed his broad black hat to wipe sweat from his brow, I was shocked to see that he had very little hair, the top of his bare skull quite shiny. He walked beside Hawwy as the latter tried to address a sullen Skywalker. During this less-than-productive exchange, I glanced from Sergeant Hicks to the other Striped Sleeve, Sergeant Cullen.
    Now, there was a sight. The man was literally swollen with hostility, a to-the-bone meanness that manifested itself as he stood next to his horse, holding the reins too tightly, purposely hurting the animal that was trying to throw its head back, fighting the brutal hold. When the horse did a dancing step to the side, Sergeant Cullen kicked the horse in the ribs. The sound of that horse’s scream caught everyone’s attention, Hawwy and Sergeant Hicks quickly turning away from us. Sergeant Hicks yelled something, then Cullen, his upper lip curling back in a snarl, mounted up.
    Thoroughly embarrassed—first by getting nowhere in the attempt at being civil with Skywalker, then by the brutal display of the soldier—Hawwy was practically babbling. Skywalker rounded off Hawwy’s humiliation with a dismissive wave, turned his horse’s head, and led the four of us away from the odd assortment of Blue Jackets.
    *   *   *
    We were two miles out and traveling northwest when Billy came riding out of a clump of scrub trees. As Hawwy had been the only means of communication between our two groups, and his abilities were somewhat sketchy, he was very glad to see the young frontiersman. With Billy now by his side, I could see an almost visible, burdensome weight lifting from Hawwy’s shoulders. In all ruthless honesty, Hawwy was about as much a soldier as I was a warrior. He had been chosen for this expedition for precisely the same reasons I had—because the generals, on account of his impending marriage to Cherish and his friendship with me, believed he knew more about the Kiowa than he actually did. But unlike Hawwy, I had no rank whatsoever, so I was not afflicted with the responsibility of leadership. With the arrival of Billy, Hawwy eagerly shifted this responsibility, and with the shift came a lessening of tensions, for Skywalker quite readily spoke to Billy whereas he pointedly had had nothing to say to Hawwy.
    The Cheyenne Robber and Hears The Wolf were two of the finest trackers in the Nation but they had a hard task. You must understand that there were thousands and thousands of horses in that valley. The ground was a mess, all churned up and, because of the arid heat, terribly dusty. The Cheyenne Robber and Hears The Wolf rode at the front. Skywalker—who for reasons I didn’t understand, did not want to talk to me any more than he wanted to talk to Hawwy—chose to ride beside Billy. Hawwy, Lieutenant Danny, and I rode behind them. Behind us were the two sergeants, and behind them rode the two black men.
    Gradually the ground smoothed out and tracks were found. For a long time it wasn’t clear if we were following one horse or two, but when the ground became devoid of other traffic, it became apparent that we were following two horses wearing metal shoes.
    Right away The Cheyenne Robber said that a soldier was chasing another soldier, but Lieutenant Danny said no. He said that he had counted a large number of mules belonging to the Indians. Mules with army markings. Well, that put The Cheyenne Robber’s hair up. He fired back that any mules belonging to the Nations had been given in trade and that no Indian would accept a mule needing to wear iron shoes. Besides, he knew a mule print from a horse print whereas Snotty Nose didn’t look as if he knew anything except how to blow his nose so he should just shut up. Lieutenant Danny finished blowing his nose and then shut right up.
    In this spirit of mounting hostility, we continued following the tracks. Ten