The Cry of the Wolf Chapter 85

Chief Long Knife carried the grisly spectacle in his right hand once more standing before John and Gavin at the fort. Although it went against his conscience, George had decided to join the chief, his conversation with Grentjen before dawn still fresh on his mind. If something went wrong, they might stand a better chance if he was there to mediate with his own people and earn the tribe's trust.

From what George had seen of Gavin he wasn't fond of the slender man, but those observations had been from a distance. Up close and personal wasn't proving to be any better. Eyes so pale they reminded him of those of a dead fish, Gavin also eyed the tall blonde, sizing him up. George didn't flinch. He'd faced larger men in battle. Towering over Dark Star's husband, he straightened his shoulders, adding yet another inch or two to his already imposing height. Frowning, Gavin looked away, focusing on the display before him. The scalps were fresh, he noted, fingering the ginger-hued curls of one scalp absent-mindedly.

"You're improving," John muttered after counting them. "I don't wish to ruin the alliance between our people, but you must know how valuable these scalps are."

"Why do you require scalps?" George stepped forward, his accent thick. "I had assumed it was the tribes who were barbarians and uncivilized. A people who do not know the mercy of God and therefore do not know any better. I am surprised to see that the murder of innocent people - our people," he motioned to the red-headed scalp Gavin had been inspecting, "was carried out at your command."

John chuckled low in his throat, but there was no mirth to the sound which emerged from his lips.

"That is where you are mistaken. These are not our people. They are simply casualties in a war they could never win. What you see is merely spoils of battle, nothing more."

"And you do not stain your own hands with their blood?"

Again John shrugged, but it was Gavin who spoke. "The natives are naturally savage. What is one more death at their hands? In return, they are paid and receive horses. We will defend them should they be attacked by other tribes. It is a more than fair deal."

George's eyes narrowed wondering, not for the first time, what Dark Star had ever seen in this man who appeared to have never had a conscience.

Chief Red Hawk observed the exchange in silence, noting how George defended his people. He made an excellent point although the raids were not something he shied away from. John was right. It was a fair deal.

He watched as Gretjen, clasping the babies to her heart, slipped through the narrow doorway in search of her friend. It was now or never and they knew what was at stake should their plan fail.

****

Gretjen slipped through the doorway, glancing furtively about for her friend. She had assumed Adelaide would have met her in the main room where her husband was, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Come on with you, hurry now," Annie appeared at her elbow, her voice lowered in a conspiratorial hush. "I thought ye may have come last night but when I didn't see you, I thought the worst. Well, it is a good thing you are here. I haven't breathed a word of this to Adelaide…"

"What haven't you told me?" Addy stepped out of the room, hands on her hips.

Annie and Gretjen shared a look before Gretjen stepped forward, passing Toris to his mother.

Addy held him close, brushing a tender kiss on his cheek.

"Are you leaving soon? Is that what you haven't told me?"

Gretjen sighed, "Yes and no… Chief Red Hawk is meeting with your husband now. He brought more scalps to distract him so we could help you escape. The tribe is leaving, Addy. It is now or never and you must come with us."

****

Adelaide looked down, drinking in her son's peaceful features. Blissful innocence as he slept in his mother's arms.

"You must choose between your bairn and Gavin," Annie reached out, placing her work-gnarled hand on Adelaide's arm.

The choice was a simple one, truth be told. Gavin all but avoided her and her child, well, he was her child. Her flesh and blood.

"You're pregnant," Gretjen lowered her voice, not wishing to risk the walls having ears. "Annie told George yesterday when you were ill. You're going to have another baby. You know Gavin isn't going to accept this one either and I'm afraid it will be even worse for you when he finds out you're pregnant with another man's baby."

Adelaide swallowed hard. Gretjen's words were an understatement. Instinctively she placed her hand on her womb, her thoughts on the baby's father. Would he welcome her return? It didn't matter now. She needed to bring him his children before Gavin learned the truth.

Nodding in agreement, she clutched her son, following Annie out a side door. The elderly woman stooped, picked up a satchel then continued to lead the way past guards who barely glanced over at the women who smiled over at the young men.

"Don't be out long," a brunette called out, "The natives have camped nearby. We wouldn't want them to mistake you for the French," he grinned, eliciting laughter from his comrades.

Gretjen blanched, casting a furtive glance over her shoulder before guiding her companions in the direction of the camp they'd just been warned about.

A lone whippoorwill called out in quick succession before Chief Red Hawk emerged from the trees, standing with legs akimbo in front of the woman.

"Bless my heart, but ye give one a fright!" Annie hadn't lost her tongue.

A twinkle danced across the chief's eyes then was gone.

"You chose wisely, Dark Star. We will depart camp shortly before your escape is discovered. Are you coming with us? You are welcome in my tribe," he turned his focus to the Irishwoman.

"How can I say no when ye be makin' such a kind offer?" Annie grinned up at the warrior, not an ounce of fear in her old bones.