War Woman (3 page)

Jonathan lay back down and listened to the sounds around him. Gentle snores blended with the quiet gurgling of the nearby stream. Resting with his hands underneath his head, Jonathan considered the Cherokee warrior. What must such a man in his position be thinking? It was bad enough that he would have to leave his home but it wasn’t just him. It was every single member of his village. The history, the stories, the memories surrounding that place would be lost to future generations all because new settlers had arrived and decided they wanted the land for themselves. Jonathan could understand the warrior’s reaction to the sergeant. Now to make matters worse, that warrior was being taken back to be humiliated in front of the people who were enforcing the removals…

Unable to keep his mind quiet so that he could sleep, Jonathan decided he would relieve the sergeant and take Haville’s place. The kid could use the extra hours of sleep and there was no point in lying awake doing nothing while someone else could be sleeping. Besides, he wanted to check on the warrior and see how he was doing. The Cherokee would probably be awake and in need of refreshment and it was unlikely that the sergeant would give him any. Being careful not to wake the others, Jonathan rose from his bedroll, grabbed his canteen and headed towards the rock outcropping behind which the prisoner was secured. Stopping abruptly in surprise, he stared at the tree which the prisoner had been secured to – a prisoner who was now nowhere in sight.

Scanning the area hurriedly, Jonathan was unable to detect any trace of the Cherokee or the sergeant. Had the warrior escaped somehow and done something to the sergeant? This was the last thing anybody needed right now. The removals were tense enough without blood being spilled. If the warrior had killed or injured the sergeant in his attempt to flee, some of the hot-headed officers at their camp would see it as sufficient justification to lead an assault against the Cherokee village. If there were other Cherokee out looking for the prisoner, they might meet up with him in time to be directed to where the soldiers were before they made it back to their base.

Moving back quickly to where the others slept, Jonathan woke Merks up with a sharp shake of his shoulder. Informing him quickly about what had happened, he grabbed his rifle and returned to the rock outcropping. Searching the area around the tree in vain, he moved forwards into the wooded area behind the rock outcropping, attempting to look for any signs that could indicate where the two men might have gone.
If only it wasn’t so damn dark…
Keeping his head low and his eyes focused on the ground, he made a methodical search of the area, trying to spot even the smallest clue that could help him. Suddenly his eyes alighted on a piece of earth that looked like it had a partial imprint of a boot in it. Looking beyond the imprint, he spotted a section of earth that appeared to have a slight groove in it, as if something had been dragged through it. As he continued to examine the area, Merks and four of the others came up behind him.

“I’ve left Rodgers, Farrows and Dennyson with the horses in case the sergeant comes back or someone finds our campsite.” Merks looked around the area. “Any idea where they went?”

“I’ve found a partial trail here.” Jonathan indicated the boot imprint and the drag mark.

“Okay, let’s get going.” Merks nodded to the others to follow as Jonathan led the way, trying to follow the trail as best he could as they progressed into the woods. The pace was slow however, partly because they didn’t want to risk missing a clue and partly because they didn’t want to trip over a root or the like hidden in the undergrowth.

The small group of men continued on in this manner for about ten minutes but eventually had to admit defeat. There were no more visible signs of where the sergeant or the Cherokee warrior may have passed. At this point the only thing they could do would be to pick a direction and hope it was right.

“I reckon we split up,” Merks spoke quietly, keeping an eye on his surroundings. “We’ll fan out in pairs and search for another twenty minutes. If we can’t find anything then we’ll meet back at the campsite. We’ve probably already walked past dozens of trail clues but it’s too dark to see them. Better we resume the search in daylight if there’s no luck soon. Anyway, maybe the sergeant’s already back at the campsite.”

The others nodded and split up into pairs, each heading in a different direction. Jonathan and Haville continued forwards together, neither speaking as they searched for any sign that they were heading in the right direction. After a few minutes had passed, Haville’s whisper reached Jonathan, who was slightly in front.

“This is my fault.”

Jonathan paused and turned to face the boy. “Daniel, this isn’t your fault.”

“Yes it is. If I hadn’t helped carry the Indian away from his village we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“If you hadn’t done what the sergeant wanted, you’d be disobeying a direct order and could have gotten in serious trouble back at the base. You did your job. It was the sergeant who attacked the Cherokee warrior. He made the call.”
A bloody stupid one
, Jonathan thought in frustration but it would do no good to voice that opinion right now. “We’ve got to deal with this situation as best we can and blaming yourself for something that isn’t your fault isn’t going to help.”

“You’re right.” A determined expression on his face, Haville nodded for Jonathan to proceed again. The pair walked onwards for a further few minutes until Jonathan suddenly held up his hand for Haville to stop.

“Do you hear that?” Jonathan turned his head in the direction from which a faint grunt had come. They waited in silence as the seconds passed until another soft grunt reached their ears.

“I heard it.” Haville pointed in the direction of the sound. “Over there.”

“Come on, and be careful.” Jonathan moved quietly towards where the sound had come from. Using the trees and undergrowth for cover he progressed forwards, the grunts becoming increasingly louder. In the distance he saw an indistinct shape, though as he got nearer he began to make out what it was. A man was slumped against the trunk of a tree whilst another one punched him in the face. Raising his rifle in preparation, Jonathan moved forwards quickly and made himself known.

“Halt! Nobody move!”

Coming closer, however, he was able to determine that it was the Cherokee warrior slumped against the tree while the sergeant breathed heavily, his exertions from the punching evident. Beckoning Haville forward, Jonathan lowered his rifle. “Sir, what happened?”

“I moved the prisoner. If anybody had found our camp, I didn’t want them discovering him and helping him to escape.”

“Why were you beating him, sir?” Jonathan looked from the sergeant to the warrior whose arms wrapped around the tree trunk, his hands tied behind it. His face was bloody and already starting to swell.

“He tried to escape. I was teaching him that it would be very foolish to try that again,” the sergeant replied dismissively. 

The warrior glared at the sergeant’s words but said nothing. Glancing doubtfully between the two men, Jonathan couldn’t ignore the sense that something wasn’t right here. “Why didn’t you wake Haville for his shift?”

“I wasn’t tired and this devil is a crafty one. He needs careful watching. Now enough with all the questions. Where are the others?”

“Four are out searching for you, the rest are back at the campsite. They should all be there by the time we get back.”

“I’m not going back. I’ll stay here with the prisoner until it’s light enough to continue our journey back to the army base. Tell the others everything is under control.” With those words the sergeant turned his back dismissively on Haville and Jonathan.

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think you need to be this far away from the campsite, if at all. Besides, the sun will be up soon. We might as well head back and start making preparations so that we can get as early a start as possible.” Jonathan didn’t like the thought of leaving the sergeant and the prisoner alone together. He suspected that the sergeant had moved the Cherokee out of earshot so he could deal his own version of petty revenge without anyone interfering before they reached the army base.

“I’m the one in charge here, Wilson. I’ll decide what measures are necessary to keep the prisoner secure. Now go back and try and get some more rest or eat or whatever else you want to do; I don’t care. I’ll bring the prisoner back when it’s time to leave at first light.”

“How about I stay with you, sir. Two soldiers are better than one, especially in this environment where anyone could sneak up on you.”

Though not intended as an insult, the sergeant seemed to take it as one, perhaps thinking it a personal jibe at the fact that the Cherokee
had
snuck up on him in the dark before. “Do not question me, Wilson, unless you want to see yourself in hot water when we get back to base. Nobody’s getting the better of me again. Now leave.”

Noting the sergeant’s riled demeanor, Jonathan decided it was imperative for all concerned that the sergeant not be left with the Cherokee. He couldn’t trust the sergeant to control himself, since he obviously had held nothing back when he’d punched the Cherokee repeatedly. “Sir, why don’t you go back and get some sleep? It’s been a really long day and night for all of us. You must be exhausted. Haville and I have rested. We’ll watch the prisoner.”

“Did you not hear me, Wilson? I said leave and that’s an order!”

“Sir,” Haville interjected, noting the increasing anger of the sergeant, “we really don’t mind watching the prisoner. Besides, it’s extra training for me. I’d like to get as much experience as possible.”

The sergeant seemed to come back to his senses as Haville’s words pushed through his wrath. Reigning his anger in with some difficulty, the sergeant took a deep breath. “Okay, Haville. You should get as much experience as you can. You two are on watch detail. Bring him back at first light.” Stalking away from the men, the sergeant headed back in the direction of the campsite. Jonathan waited for a few minutes until he was sure the sergeant was gone. Then he turned to examine the prisoner and gently removed his mouth gag.

“Damn, the sergeant really let loose on you.” The prisoner made no reply so Jonathan opened his canteen and offered the warrior a drink. However, he refused to take it. Noting the look of distrust in the warrior’s eyes, Jonathan took a long sip himself. “It’s just water, totally harmless. I don’t know the last time you had anything to drink but based on the past few hours you’ve endured, I reckon you could use some refreshment.” Smiling encouragingly, Jonathan offered the canteen again and this time the warrior took a few sips.

Taking out a small cloth he kept in his pocket, Jonathan poured some water onto it until it was soaked through and then calmly spoke to the prisoner again. “I’m going to try and get some of the blood off your face. Are you okay with that?” The prisoner said nothing and after waiting a few seconds Jonathan decided to proceed. Trying to be as gentle as possible, he dribbled some water from the canteen onto the warrior’s face before wiping it with the cloth. Though he was pressing lightly, he was sure the action still hurt but the Cherokee showed no outward signs of being in pain. The stoic look on the prisoner’s face had Jonathan cursing inside.
The sergeant could be a real ass at times…

Deciding he’d done the most he could with the tools at hand, and not wanting to cause the prisoner any more unnecessary discomfort, Jonathan stopped attempting to wipe the blood off and offered the man another drink, which he accepted. There was no denying that his face looked beaten and bruised, but it was a marginal improvement on the state it had been in when Haville and Jonathan first found the men. Replacing his lid on the canteen, Jonathan stepped back to stand next to Haville. “Good thinking with getting more experience.”

“I’m just glad it worked. Do you think he’ll be okay?” Haville looked at the warrior, a mixture of guilt and worry on his face.

“Yeah, he’ll live.”
Though if they’d been a bit later, who knows…
“He looks like a tough guy; chances are he’s probably been through worse than what the sergeant just doled out.”

Over the next couple of hours they maintained a careful watch but nothing happened. With the morning light just starting to filter through the trees, Jonathan indicated to Haville to get ready to head back. Picking his rifle up, he turned to the prisoner. “We’re heading back now. Don’t try to escape. It’s better for you and your village if you just go along with us peacefully. Once our officers have talked to you, you’ll be free to return home.” That was his hope at least. “Haville, untie his hands.” After the warrior was free from his restraints, he brought his arms slowly forwards as if the action caused him pain, which no doubt it did having spent hours with his arms tightly bound behind him. Giving the warrior a few seconds for the pain to ease slightly, Jonathan instructed Haville to retie the Cherokee’s hands behind him before they walked back to the campsite.

Stepping into the clearing, he paused, looking around. No one was there, but the bedrolls were still in place and the horses were quietly grazing nearby so they couldn’t have gone far. Walking forwards while guiding the prisoner, Jonathan called out softly. “We’re back. Hello?” There was no answer.

“Where do you think they’ve gone?” Haville looked around, puzzled.

“No idea. They must be close though. They’ll probably be back soon.” They waited for several minutes before they heard a noise. Turning towards it, they saw a group of men emerge from the trees.