Authors: Cassie Edwards
"Take him away and lock him up," General Powell said, bending to pick up Milton's rifle. He thrust it into the hands of one of his soldiers. "Stay with him and question him. If you get any answers from him about Sandy Whiskers, catch up with us as we head out now for Sandy Whiskers' outpost."
"I don't know nothin' about Sandy Whiskers," Milton cried as he was half dragged away. "Alicia, for pity's sakes, tell them I usually tend to my business. Only when you came up missin' did I stray from my usual duties at the stage station."
Alicia just glared at him.
"You're wrong!" Milton shrieked as he was dragged further away. "I meant no harm, Alicia, in what I did at the Injun village. It was the soldiers. It was their fault. They just went crazy once that first gun was fired. Alicia, tell them that I'm innocent."
"Like hell you are," Alicia said, then turned her eyes from the pitiful sight of the blubbering weakling.
General Powell took one last look at Ten Bears. Then he turned his gaze toward Cloud Eagle. "I think in the end I will have so much apologizing to do, I won't know where to begin, or how," he said thickly.
"You have enough information now to know of my total innocence, yet I feel that you still should accompany me to Sandy Whiskers' outpost," Cloud Eagle said. Alicia gave him his rifle. He turned to his horse and slipped his firearm into its gunboot.
Then he turned and looked quickly toward the gate of the fort. His throat went dry as he watched those Apache of his stronghold who had survived the massacre now being forced by gunpoint to enter the courtyard.
He felt as though he were strangling with despair and guilt. He felt that he had let his people down. A very brave and successful chief would win distinction for his band, would give it prestige, so that ambitious young warriors would desire to join it.
Always before there had been safety under his leadership, so that the Apache nation as a whole had come to know and honor his wisdom and prowess.
But he worried about having lost prestige today. There was a real democracy among the Apache. It was for the people as a whole to decide upon a given course of action. As long as a chief was strong enough to protect his followers and courageous enough to lead them to victory against their foes, he held sway over them.
When a chief failed to make good, an abler man took his place.
Would his people demand his replacement?
He would know soon.
Words would not have to be spoken.
It would be in the eyes of his people as they gazed at him.
Alicia gasped, her color quickly paling when she turned and also saw the sad procession of men, women, and children.
The children were crying and clinging to the skirts of their mothers. The men walked stoicly, their eyes empty. The women held their chins high, their faces void of emotion.
His agony over what he saw was so intense that Cloud Eagle felt as though his insides were being torn apart.
He watched his people for a moment longer, then turned angry eyes at General Powell. "This is how my people are treated in time of peace between Chief Cloud Eagle and the white father in Washington?" he demanded. "There is nothing you can say or do to fully return the dignity to my people after they have been forced at gunpoint to march like animals across the land of our ancestors. Where are the papers of peace that protect my people from such treatment? To have arrived at Fort Thomas this quickly, they had to have been forced to run at times. Have they not suffered enough already?"
General Powell's mouth was agape with humiliated surprise. He stared at the marching Apache, then turned to Cloud Eagle. "As was the massacre not of my doing, so was this also not ordered by me," he said. "Cloud Eagle, I shall make this up to you. Somehow."
"You can begin by ordering your soldiers away from my people," Cloud Eagle said, giving General Powell an angry stare. "Then you can supply them allmen, children and women alikewith horses for their return to our stronghold. Is that understood?"
"That's the least that I can do," General Powell said. He rode off and drew rein beside his soldiers.
Alicia walked with Cloud Eagle as he stepped before his people. They slowly gathered about him. His eyes filled with them, with their misery, with their shame.
He then glanced at the sun, where it burned in the sky, and offered a prayer. He raised his hand and the glow of the sun upon the flat of his forearm caught the eyes of his people. Low gasps wafted through the air at the sign that had been sent to them from the sun.
Hope filled the eyes, hearts, and souls of his people as Cloud Eagle began moving among them. He took the time to embrace each one. The children clung to him and cried. The women lingered in his embrace. The men gave him a quick hug, then stood tall and proud as horses were brought to them.
Cloud Eagle felt as if the weight of the world had been released from his shoulders when he saw that his people still looked to him as their leader. There was respect and admiration in their eyes. They understood that none of this was of his doing. It was the fault of white men whose hearts and minds were twisted.
After everyone was ready for traveling, Cloud Eagle looked from one to another. "Return to our stronghold and begin preparing our dead for their burial rites," he said solemnly. "I have other duties which will separate us for a while longer. But soon I will join you. We shall make all wrongs right together at our stronghold."
As the Apache people rode away, Alicia watched, tears flowing from her eyes.
Then she followed Cloud Eagle's lead as he swung himself into his saddle. She was just as quickly in hers. Proud to be a part of this noble Apache's life, she rode beside Cloud Eagle as they left the fort.
General Powell and several soldiers rode on ahead.
Before Sandy Whiskers' outpost came into view, columns of smoke were visible in the air.
Alicia edged her horse closer to Cloud Eagle's. "The bastard
did
return," she said angrily. "He's returned and burned everything. I doubt there will be any trace left of those damnable cages."
"Sandy Whiskers may have burned the proof, but that does not change the truth," Cloud Eagle said as he looked heavenward and watched the smoke blending into white puffy clouds. "I will hunt him down. Justice will be done only when he is dead."
Thunder Roars edged his steed close on Cloud Eagle's other side. "See smoke yonder?" he said, gesturing with a hand. "The fire will destroy all proof."
"Fire and smoke will soon fade away to nothingness and along with it the physical proof," Cloud Eagle said, smiling at Thunder Roars. "But Sandy Whiskers cannot disappear in a burst of smoke. We will find him. If I have to turn over every grain of sand in the desert to find him, I shall."
Cloud Eagle sank his heels into the flanks of his horse and rode away. Thunder Roars and Alicia exchanged quick glances, then rode after Cloud Eagle.
When the outpost came into full view, the smoke had turned to shifting, hazy sheets of gray. Cloud Eagle rode through the opened gate, everyone following. He yanked his reins and stopped his horse abruptly, his gaze slowly taking in the total destruction which lay around him.
"He can't have gotten far," Alicia said. "This fire was set not all that long ago."
Cloud Eagle slid out of his saddle. Alicia and Thunder Roars followed his lead. They walked with him toward Sandy Whiskers' destroyed cabin. It had burned during the Apache attack on the outpost, and its ashes were now cool.
Cloud Eagle walked around the outer fringes of the remains of the cabin, his moccasins scattering ash into the wind.
He looked farther still, at the remains of the building at the far back of the courtyard. Nothing could be left of the cages. But the branding irons could not have burned. They could be handed over to General Powell as evidence. The brand
A
was one certain way to incriminate the Englishman!
He turned to walk away, to go and search in the ashy remains for the branding iron, but stopped and gazed over his shoulder at the remains of Sandy Whiskers' cabin when he got the distinct feeling that he had heard someone shouting from that direction. It was a strange sound, as though it came from the deep depths of a well.
Alicia's insides quivered strangely as she turned abruptly and stared down at the ashes of the cabin. She had also heard something. She held in her breath in an effort to hear better. She was almost certain that she had heard someone shouting from somewhere beneath the rubble and ash.
Even Cloud Eagle had heard it. He was there now, his eyes searching the ashes.
"Did you also hear?" Thunder Roars said, moving to Cloud Eagle's side. "It was a voice, was it not? But from where?"
Cloud Eagle nodded and hurried into the ashes, following the sound of a voice crying out to be saved.
It was beneath him.
Below the ground.
Alicia hurried after him. "Cloud Eagle, the voice is coming from beneath us," she said, studying the burned-out floor of the cabin as Cloud Eagle began shoving the ash aside with his moccasined foot.
Then a thought came to Alicia. "There must be an underground tunnel," she said. She moved to her knees and began sorting through the ash with her fingers. ''It has to be here somewhere. It sounds as though we are just above the person who is shouting."
When the voice began fading in strength, Alicia moved her hands more desperately through the ash. When her palms came in contact with something smooth, she gave Cloud Eagle a look of alarm.
"Here, Cloud Eagle," she said, as her fingers traced the outline of a trap door. "It's a door. I've found a door."
Cloud Eagle came to her. She scooted aside as he cleared the ash from the steel door. Everyone came and hovered around them as he placed his fingers beneath the edge of the door and slowly lifted it.
"Help!" the voice cried. And then there were others making the same plea.
The door lifted and steps were revealed that led downward. Cloud Eagle made his way down the steps.
Alicia followed, and then Thunder Roars and General Powell.
When Alicia placed her feet on the cold, damp ground, she wheeled around and could not believe her eyes. The light from the trap door was enough to make out that she was in an underground cavern in which many men were manacled to the wall. Most were nude, yet some of the men wore tattered clothes.
All of the men were emaciated, and their scarred bodies revealed that they had endured many whippings.
Alicia was horrified by the sight and stench that filled the place. She covered her mouth with one hand when a sick feeling flooded her senses. She started to turn her head away from the terrible scene of pain and torture, but the sound of someone speaking her name ever so weakly made her heart skip a beat.
Then it began thumping wildly within her chest as she sorted through the thin, gaunt faces and empty eyes. When she found her brother among those who appeared to have been the most cruelly tortured and saw that one arm was missing, a spinning blackness seized her. Her legs went limp, and she sank to the floor in a dead faint.
"Alicia," Charlie cried. "Oh, God, Alicia."
Cloud Eagle bent over Alicia and picked her up in his arms. He held her close as he gazed over at the man who had spoken Alicia's name. A flickering of remembrance grabbed at his senses. Could this be the man who had refused to sell him the painting? He saw scarcely a resemblance to that man who had sat painting the sunset the day Cloud Eagle had briefly made his acquaintance. The red beard and hair were the identifying features. It surely was him!
And it was obvious that Sandy Whiskers' men had not spared him their evil torture. Cloud Eagle wondered if he had even arrived in time to save the man's life.
Thunder Roars went to Charlie and released him from his chains. Charlie fell to the floor, too weak to stand on his own. General Powell found a blanket and took it to him and wrapped it around his thin shoulders.
Trembling, Charlie gazed up at Cloud Eagle. "My sister," he whispered. "Bring her to me."
Cloud Eagle took Alicia to Charlie. He knelt down with her in his arms so that her brother could get a good look at Alicia.
"She is all right," Charlie said weakly. "That's all that matters."
He ran his thick tongue over his parched lips and reached a trembling hand to Alicia's face. "Yes, she's all right," he said, his voice breaking. "I had thought that perhaps that mangy Englishman had taken her as his captive."
"She was his captive, but Cloud Eagle set her free," Cloud Eagle said. He ran his fingers over the fine features of her face. "She will soon awaken. The shock of seeing you has momentarily taken her into a place where horror is more easily accepted."
"You have seen to her welfare?" Charlie asked weakly. "You? An Apache?"
"I did and I always shall," Cloud Eagle said, glad to see Alicia's eyelids flutter. "She is my woman."
Everything became suddenly quiet.
Charlie stared at Cloud Eagle.
Cloud Eagle accepted the stare, understanding it.
All around them, others were set free from their bonds. One by one they were taken from the dungeon.
Alicia opened her eyes slowly. When she saw her brother again, tears streamed down her cheeks.
Cloud Eagle placed her on her feet, and she knelt before Charlie and engulfed him within her arms.
"Oh, Lord," she cried. "Charlie. My sweet Charlie."
Cloud Eagle stepped away from them and stood at General Powell's side. "Have you seen enough?" he said, his voice drawn.
General Powell was pale and shaky. "More than enough," he said. "I'll search for that sonofabitch until I find him. A noose isn't enough for that Englishman."
As Alicia fed her brother a nourishing broth, she turned occasional glances toward Cloud Eagle. He sat beside the fire pit in his lodge, brooding, so much in his life now a turmoil.
Outside his lodge, rawhide drums beat slowly and mournfully. Many within the sound of the drums wailed to the heavens while others worked diligently at building themselves new lodges.