The Cry of the Wolf Chapter 70

Adelaide, clearly unaware that anyone was searching for her, kept her head lowered as she followed the others into the fort. Hewn logs were banded together to form an entryway. How the settlers believed it would offer them protection was a mystery, but ah well. History couldn't be changed.

As a young girl, her parents had taken Adelaide and her siblings to a fort - a historical reconstruction as part of their homeschooling studies. This fort brought back these long-forgotten memories, yet these were not employees in period costumes. History had come alive and yet Adelaide wanted nothing more than to return to the present and the husband she had left behind.

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With Torris strapped to Adelaide's back, she mingled with the tribe as they walked through the fort, her eyes wary. It was difficult to know who she could trust and yet, there was no time to lose. She had forgotten to ask how long they would be staying at the fort and was determined she wouldn't be returning to the encampment. No, this was her big break and she wasn't going to waste a moment.

Stepping out of the group, Addy slipped into the shadows unnoticed. She walked carefully along the log walls searching for...well, she wasn't sure what. A friendly face?

The door of one of the smaller buildings was open, people milling in and out. Adelaide joined two other women as they entered the room, baskets in hand. They glanced at her buckskin dress, then looked away hurrying past her.

Adelaide swallowed hard. She must have clearly made these women uncomfortable at the sight of her.

"You've been slacking off," a man with yellowed teeth poked the item on the table before him. "I expected to double the number of scalps. Yes, we know all about the destruction of the Wyandotte tribe." He chuckled as though it were something humorous before quickly explaining the source of his mirth, "Those scalps were easy pickings. You had an entire tribe at your mercy. Surely, you could have gotten more than five. One of our young lads could have done better than you!" He all but spat in the proud chief's face.

Chief Red Hawk balled his fist but kept silent.

"We won't disappoint you again. I will tell my men you wish more scalps to adorn your homes," his voice was laced with disgust.

"Yes, they are a pretty sight on my mantle, but no. Each scalp represents one less French lover. The Wyandotte were your enemy and ours for siding with the French. They made their choice. Well, you wouldn't understand anything I am saying. How could you? I'm wasting my breath talking to a bunch of heathens. Just do as you're told and don't bring me a few measly scalps next time or I may have to rethink our alliance. You are getting soft Red Hawk. I had thought you were far more ruthless."

Anger blazed in the chief's eyes but he kept his own counsel. The time to seek revenge was not now - not in John's territory surrounded by men who would defend him to the death. Red Hawk was a patient man and would be ready when the time came to make John eat his words.

Adelaide bit her lower lip as she watched the exchange from the shadows, reality dawning on her. A heavy, sickening feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

It had been less than a year since she had lost her children to the plague, watching the fire consume their village and her children's graves. Less than a year since she and her husband had been taken to live among the Iroquois tribe. It felt as though it were yesterday, the festering pain still raw.

Because of the Iroquois, she would never be able to visit her children's graves. They alone shouldered the blame for her great sorrow. She needed an outlet. Someone to blame and Red Hawk along with the tribe Long Knife now led was the cause of her anguish. Yet… No, it couldn't be. Why was John demanding more scalps from the savages? Blaming Red Hawk for being too soft?

If she hadn't heard it with her own ears, she never would have believed it. This changed so much. There was no time to ponder what she had just overheard, however, as another door opened and none other than Gavin stepped into view.

Adelaide gasped as she saw her husband for the first time in over a year, her heart racing.

"Gavin!"

He clearly didn't hear his wife as he stepped forward to inspect the scalps as though he were some sort of expert.

"This is what you've been bragging about? I thought you said we would be eyeball deep in scalps after the tribe was wiped up. This is a joke!" Gavin tossed a long-haired scalp to the side as though it could have been a dead rat. "I believe we should move forward with the plan then. We don't need this alliance with the Iroquois. Cut them off. Those brutes can't be trusted. Once we meet up with the army the king is sending, we will have enough soldiers and guards to not only keep the French at bay but defeat them once and for all."

John nodded in agreement. He wasn't a big fan of the savages either, but the alliance had never been his choice. If things had been different.... No, he wouldn't entertain those thoughts. Not yet. If the natives got a whiff that they weren't exactly welcome guests... No, John wasn't willing to find out if they could be far more ruthless.

Forgetting about the infant strapped to her back, Adelaide squeezed through the room wanting nothing more than to reach Gavin's side. Together they could go home. He would forgive her - he must! It wasn't her fault Long Knife had kidnapped her. She hadn't chosen to be unfaithful, pushing memories of the nights of shared passion from her mind. No, Gavin would welcome her back with open arms.