The Last Mission Of The Seventh Cavalry

She took the stethoscope from her ears and handed it to Liada. “He lost a lot of blood, and the wound is deep. We cleaned it and stitched it up, and I gave him a shot of morphine.”

Liada placed the stethoscope earpieces in her ears as she’d seen Autumn do, then she opened the blanket and slipped the endpiece inside Kawalski’s unbuttoned shirt. Her eyes widened at the sound of his heartbeat. Autumn had become accustomed to using her hands as she talked, for the benefit of Liada and Tin Tin. Both women seemed to be able to follow the conversation, at least to some extent.

“His blood pressure is good, and his pulse is normal.” Autumn was quiet for a moment as she watched Tin Tin try the stethoscope. “I don’t think any of his organs were damaged. It looks like the sword went under the edge of his flak jacket and pierced him all the way through, just above the hip bone.”

“You’ve done all you can do for him,” Alexander said. “Probably when the morphine wears off, he’ll wake up.” He handed the web belt to Autumn. “We need Liada’s help with this.”

“Whose is it?”

“We took it off a dead buffalo dog.” Alexander watched her as she puzzled it out.

“Oh, my God! The captain.”

“They could be holding him prisoner, or–”

“Liada,” Autumn said.

Liada looked at her.

“This belt,” she handed it to Liada, “is like mine.” Autumn showed her the one around her waist. “And Kawalski.” She pointed to Kawalski. “And Sarge.”

Alexander showed her his belt.

“But this one, our man is lost.”

“Lost?” Liada asked.

“Yes,” Autumn said. “Our man, like Rocrainium.”

Tin Tin removed the stethoscope from her ears. “Rocrainium?”

Alexander looked around at his troops. “Spiros, give us some help with Tin Tin.”

Private Zorba Spiros knelt beside Autumn. “What’s up?”

“I’m trying to tell her about Captain Sanders being an officer like Rocrainium.”

Spiros spoke to Tin Tin in his broken Greek. She took the belt from Liada.

“You man Rocrainium?” Tin Tin asked Autumn.

“Yes.”

“He lost to you?”

Autumn nodded.

“Belt come where?”

“One of the bandits had the belt from our Rocrainium.”

She tried to use hand signs and motions to indicate the battle and dead bandits. Spiros helped as best he could.

“Vocontii,” Tin Tin said to Liada, then something else.

Liada agreed. “Vocontii.”

Tin Tin and Liada talked for a minute.

“Um, that bandits there…” Liada tried to sign what she wanted to say.

“The bandits are Vocontii?” Autumn asked.

“Yes, yes,” Liada and Tin Tin said together. “Vocontii.”

Autumn watched the two women as they talked something over.

“Autumn wait by Kawalski,” Liada said as she and Tin Tin stood.

“All right.”

Tin Tin handed the stethoscope to Autumn, then the two of them ran toward the other side of the encampment.

“Autumn,” Alexander said, “from what I’ve seen of those…what are they called?”

“Vocontii.”

“From what I’ve seen of them, I don’t think we should hold out a lot of hope of finding Captain Sanders alive.”

“You won’t leave him behind, will you, Sarge?” She reached to touch his arm. “Even if there’s the slightest hope.”

“Leave him,” Lojab said. “He can take care of himself.” He spat in the dirt. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

“No.” Alexander glared at Lojab for a moment, then looked at Autumn. “I would never leave anyone behind, just as the captain wouldn’t leave us. But these Vocontii are so primitive and brutal, I can’t see them having any reason to keep him alive. If they were holding him for ransom…” He looked over Autumn’s shoulder, then pointed that way.

“Oh, no,” Autumn said. “It’s Rocrainium.” She stood and dusted herself off. Tin Tin and Liada walked on either side of him. “They thought I was talking about him.”

“Well,” Lojab said, “this should be interesting.”

The two women almost had to jog to keep up with Rocrainium’s long stride. Soon, they stood before Alexander and Autumn.

“Autumn, Sarge,” Liada said, motioning to the two of them. “Rocrainium.”

Alexander was tall, a little over six feet, but he still had to look up to Rocrainium. He held out his hand.

“Sarge,” Rocrainium said. He smiled and reached to shake hands. He then said, “Autumn” and shook her hand also.

“Um, Rocrainium,” Liada said, “go…” She tried to sign but couldn’t get it right. She asked Tin Tin Ban Sunia something.

“Rocrainium,” Tin Tin said, “go foot-soldiers you Rocrainium.”

“You mean,” Autumn said, “your foot-soldiers are going to look for our Rocrainium?” This was done with hand signs as much as with her words.

“Yes, go now.”

“Oh, good.” There was obvious relief on Autumn’s face. “Thank you, Rocrainium.” She took his hand in both of hers. “Thank you very much. I can’t tell you how relieved I am. Our captain—”

“Eaglemoon,” Sarge said, “you’re gushing.”

“Oh.” She pulled away her hands. “Sorry.” Her face reddened under her dark tan. “Very sorry. I don’t know what–”

“Just shut up,” Alexander said.

He touched his heart, then held out his hand, palm up. Rocrainium responded with a word, then looked around for someone. Six of the scarlet-caped young men had come along behind Rocrainium, and now they stood nearby. He pointed at two of them, and when they came forward, Rocrainium gave them some instructions.

The two men took a quick look at Autumn, then saluted Rocrainium with their fists to their chests. They hurried away to carry out his orders.

“They must be junior officers,” Alexander said.

“Probably,” Autumn said.

“We go,” Tin Tin said, “find you man.”

Autumn touched her heart, then held out her hand, palm up. “Thank you.”

“That Tin Tin is very bright,” Alexander said as he and Autumn walked back to Kawalski.

“Yes, they both are.” Autumn knelt beside Kawalski. “They learn our language and ways much faster than I’m learning theirs.” She checked the dressing on his wound.

“Do you think we need to change the dressing on Cateri’s arm?” Alexander asked.

Autumn looked up at him. “Yes, I think you should check it.” She grinned.

“That smirk is uncalled for, and I would check the bandage if I thought she wouldn’t use her whip on me.”

“She only hit you yesterday because she thought you were trying to take her wagon.”

“Hey, look at that,” Alexander said.

Autumn saw two columns of foot-soldiers and cavalry leaving the camp; one heading south, the other north. Each contingent was led by one of the young officers.

“Wow,” Autumn said. “They’re serious about finding Captain Sanders.”

“I think Rocrainium is second in command,” Alexander said. “And that other officer we saw yesterday on the black charger must be the headman.”

“I wonder what his name is.”

“You’ll have to ask Tin Tin that question. Those Vocontii must be a constant threat. They’ve attacked twice in the last two days, and each time we beat them back, they melt away into the forest, then regroup for another assault.”

“Like guerilla fighters.”

“What would have happened in that battle today if we hadn’t been there?” Alexander asked.

“There must have been over five hundred of them, and with the foot-soldiers and wagons spread out in a long line, the bandits are very effective.”

“They just grab what they can from the wagons,” Alexander said, “and when the foot-soldiers and cavalry charge in, they run with whatever they can carry.”

“Did you notice these people use some kind of horn to alert everyone?”

“Yes.” Alexander watched Autumn adjust the blanket around Kawalski’s shoulders. “I guess three blasts on the trumpet means, ‘We’re under attack.’”

* * * * *

They heard no news about Captain Sanders for the rest of that day.

The platoon settled into a routine, and, staying in small groups, they explored the camp. The camp followers had set up a rudimentary market in a section near the center of the encampment. After lunch, Joaquin, Sparks, Kari, and Sharakova set off toward the market to see what was on offer.

“Hey,” Lojab yelled from behind them, “where you guys going?”

“To the market,” Sparks said.

“Shut up, Sparks,” Sharakova said under her breath.

“Good,” Lojab said, “I’ll come with you.”

“Wonderful,” Sharakova whispered to Karina. “God’s gift to the Seventh Cav will regale us with his sparkling personality and dazzling wit.”

“If I just shoot him,” Karina said, “do you think Sarge would court-martial me?”

“Court-martial?” Sharakova said. “Hell, you’d get the Medal of Honor.”

They were still laughing when Lojab caught up with them. “What’s so funny?”

“You, Bull Donkey,” Sharakova said.

“Up yours, Sharakova.”

“In your dreams, Low Job.”

They walked through a section of camp occupied by the light cavalry, where the soldiers were rubbing down their horses and repairing leather tack. Beyond the cavalry were the slingers who practiced with their slingshots. The bulging bags on their belts contained rocks, chunks of iron, and lumps of lead.

“There’s the market.” Sparks pointed to a grove of trees just ahead.

Under the shade of the oak trees, the market was crowded with people buying, selling, haggling, and bartering bags of grain for meat, cloth, and hand tools.

The five soldiers walked along a winding path between two rows of merchants who had their wares laid out on the ground.

“Hey, guys,” Karina said, “check that out.” She pointed to a woman buying some meat.

“That’s our brass,” Sparks said.

“No shit, Dick Tracy,” Sharakova said.

The woman counted out some spent cartridges the platoon had left on the ground after the battle.

“She’s using that stuff like money,” Karina said.

“Three,” Joaquin said. “What did she get for three shells?”

“It looks like about five pounds of meat,” Karina said.

They walked on, watching for more brass.

“Look there.”

Sparks pointed at a man haggling with a woman who had some cheese and eggs spread out on a white cloth. He offered her one cartridge for a large block of cheese. The woman shook her head, then used her knife to measure off about half the cheese. The man said something, and she measured off a bit more. He tossed a cartridge on the white cloth. She cut off the piece of cheese and handed it to him with a smile.

“These people are a bunch of idiots,” Lojab said, “trying to turn our brass into money.”

“Looks like it’s working pretty well,” Karina said.

“Hey.” Lojab sniffed the air. “You guys smell that?”

“I smell smoke,” Sharakova said.

“Yeah, right,” Lojab said. “Somebody’s smoking pot.”

“Well, if anyone could detect marijuana in the air, it’d be you.”

“Come on, it’s over this way.”

“Forget it, Lojab,” Sharakova said. “We don’t need to be looking for trouble.”

“I just want to see if I can buy some.”

“We’re on duty, you numbskull.”

“He can’t keep us on duty twenty-four hours a day.”

“No, but right now, we are on duty.”

“What Sarge doesn’t know won’t hurt nobody.”

Lojab walked down a slope toward a small stream. The other four soldiers stood watching him for a moment.

“I don’t like this,” Joaquin said.

“Let him go,” Sparks said. “Maybe he’ll learn a lesson.”

Lojab walked along the stream, then around a bend and out of sight.

“Come on,” Sharakova said, “if we don’t watch his back, he’ll get his balls handed to him.”

Chapter Nine

When they caught up with Lojab, he stood at the edge of a group of thirty foot-soldiers standing in a ring, watching two men fight. They laughed and shouted, egging on the fighters.

“The smoke around here is thick enough to get an elephant high,” Joaquin said.

The men were passing small bowls around. Each man would inhale deeply over a bowl, then pass it on. The clay bowls were filled with smoldering hemp leaves.

“Mind if I try that?” Lojab said to one of the foot-soldiers.

The soldier looked him over, mumbled something, then shoved him backwards, into Sparks.

Karina flipped on her comm switch. “Hey, Sarge. You online?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“We might have a little confrontation here.”

“Where are you?”

“In the woods, below the market.”

“What the hell you doing down there?”

Lojab unslung his rifle, but before he could bring it around, two of the foot-soldiers grabbed him, while another man took away his rifle.

“We can discuss that later,” Karina said. “We’re going to need some help.”

“All right. How many should I bring with me?”

Karina looked around at the foot-soldiers; the men looked like they were ready to enjoy a good fight. “How about everybody?”

“We’ll be there in ten.”

The two foot-soldiers dragged Lojab into the ring and held him as a big, hairy man stepped from the crowd and punched him in the stomach.

“Hey, you ugly son-of-a-bitch,” Sharakova said, “knock it off.”

She stepped into the ring, cradling her rifle. The man looked the young woman over for a moment, then laughed at her.

She went toward him. “You think I look funny, Fuzzy Face?”

“Oh, God,” Sparks said, “here we go.”

Fuzzy Face pulled a three-foot-long sword from his belt and grinned at Sharakova as he flourished it around.

“Yeah, I see your little knife. Did you see my rifle?” She spun it around and placed the butt on the ground beside her right boot. “Your move, Gomer.”

Lojab tried to get away, but the two men held him tight, twisting his arms around behind his back.

Fuzzy Face swung his sword at Sharakova’s neck. She dropped to one knee and brought up her rifle to block the blow. As the sword clanged on the receiver of the rifle, she jumped up, holding the rifle in front of her.

The man then drew back the sword for a thrust at her heart. Sharakova knocked away the sword and stepped in to hit him in the chest with the butt of the rifle. As the man staggered backward, Sparks grabbed his bayonet and fixed it on the barrel of his rifle. Karina and Joaquin did the same. Some of the men watched them and drew their swords.

Fuzzy Face circled Sharakova, waving his sword. She kept her eyes on him. Suddenly, one of the foot-soldiers in the crowd knelt behind her and yanked her feet from under her, sending her face-down in the dirt.

Sparks ran forward and put his bayonet to the man’s forearm. “Back off!”

The man let go of Sharakova and crawled backward. She rolled and sprang to her feet. She then glanced at her rifle, lying in the dirt, ten feet away. Fuzzy Face looked at her rifle, too, and he grinned and started for her.

“Here!” Karina tossed her rifle to Sharakova, who caught the rifle and waved the sharp point of the bayonet at the man.

“You want a taste of this?” she snapped.

Karina knelt to pick up Sharakova’s rifle, keeping her eyes on Fuzzy Face. Joaquin came into the ring to stand beside Karina, his rifle ready. Sparks stepped over beside Lojab. Now all five soldiers of the Seventh were inside the circle of thirty foot-soldiers.

Fuzzy Face looked at Sharakova for a moment, said something, and threw his sword to the dirt. He pounded his chest, yelling like a gorilla.

“Oh, you want to fight man-to-man, huh? Okay.” Sharakova tossed her rifle on the ground and stepped away from it. “Come on, then, let’s do it.”

He ran at her, grabbing her around the neck with both hands. She pushed up her arms between his arms and brought her elbows down to break his hold, then, in a smooth continuation of her motion, she took hold of his wrist, placed her foot behind his, and pushed him off balance.

He hit the ground hard but jumped up, swinging his fist at her head. She stepped into his swing, grabbed his arm, and threw him to the ground again.

He got up, roaring with anger, and came at her. She spun around, bringing up her right foot, landing her boot in his ribs. But the blow had no effect on him. He then grabbed her foot, twisted it, and threw her to the dirt.

The men yelled and cheered, urging on the fighters.

Sharakova sprang to her feet and went after him, hitting him in the face with a quick one-two punch, bloodying his nose. He wiped his hand across his nose and looked at the blood on his fingers, then lunged at her. Sharakova swung her fist at his stomach, but he sidestepped, grabbed her arm, and spun her around. He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground. Her arms were pinned against her sides as he began to squeeze the life out of her. She squirmed around and pulled her right arm free, then grabbed her pistol, cocked it, and pressed it behind her back and into his side.

A loud gunshot startled everyone.

Alexander held his smoking handgun in the air. He brought down the pistol and pointed it at Fuzzy Face.

“Let her go.”

All the foot-soldiers knew what the gun could do—they’d seen it used on the buffalo dogs. Fuzzy Face let go of Kady, then stared at Alexander.

“Apache,” Alexander said.

“Yeah, I’m right behind you.”

“See if you can communicate with this ape and calm things down.”

Autumn came forward and swung her rifle over her shoulder. She stared at Fuzzy Face for a moment, then began to speak. “I am Autumn Eaglemoon. My people are the Seventh Cavalry. We came here from the sky.” She used sign language, hoping he would understand a little of what she was saying. “We wish you no harm, but if you don’t stop fighting, we will shoot every last one of you bastards.” She cocked her thumb and index finger like a pistol, then pointed to each man around the circle. “Bang, bang, bang, bang.”

“Uh, Eaglemoon,” Alexander said, “I was thinking more along the lines of a little diplomacy.”

“Do you know how to sign ‘diplomacy,’ Sarge?”

“No, but—”

Fuzzy Face cocked his hand and pointed at Autumn. “Bang, bang?”

“That’s right,” Autumn said. “Bang, bang.”

He burst out laughing and came toward Autumn. She stepped back, but he thrust out his hand in a friendly gesture. She hesitated, then reached toward him.

He gripped her hard and said a string of words, ending with, “Hagar.”

“Hagar?”

Fuzzy Face nodded. He wiped blood from his nose, then tapped his chest with his fist. “Hagar.”

“All right, Hagar.” She pulled her hand from his. “Apache.” She patted her chest.

“Apache,” he said, then signaled to one of his men.

The man came forward, and Hagar took a smoking bowl from his hand. He offered the bowl to Autumn. She looked at the bowl and shook her head.

“I would rather have something to drink.” She made a drinking motion.

Hagar yelled a command. Soon, a woman came forward with a clay jug and two drinking bowls. She handed a bowl to each of them, then poured a dark liquid from the jug.

Autumn sipped from the bowl, then smacked her lips and smiled.

“Wine.” She held out the bowl to Hagar.

He clinked his bowl against hers, then gulped down his wine. She took another sip, then drank the whole thing. They held out their empty bowls to the woman, and she refilled them.

Autumn pointed at Lojab, who was still being held by the two foot-soldiers. “How about if they let go of him?”

Hagar looked where she pointed, then made an impatient gesture toward the two men. They released Lojab. He stumbled forward, regained his balance, then dusted himself off.

Autumn toasted Hagar. “Diplomacy!”

“Apache!”

They both emptied their bowls.

“Take it easy,” Alexander said, “you know you can’t handle your firewater.”

Lojab picked up his rifle and went toward Sharakova. “Can’t you ever mind your own business? I had the situation under control until you went berserk.”

“Yeah, you had it under control all right. I saw how you were attacking that guy’s fist with your stomach.”

“If Sarge hadn’t showed up to save your butt,” Lojab said, “you would’ve been dead meat.”

“Uh-huh. Well, next time you want to get high, go climb a tree,” she said as she traded rifles with Karina.

* * * * *

The next day, late in the afternoon, Liada and Tin Tin came to the platoon. But they were without their usual smiles and cheerful comments.

“We find you Rocrainium,” Liada said.

Chapter Ten

It was almost dark when they walked into the small clearing, two miles away from their camp on the river.

“My God,” Sharakova said, “what happened to him?”

“He was tortured,” Alexander said. “A slow, painful death.”

Six members of the platoon, along with Tin Tin Ban Sunia and Liada, stood looking down at the body. The rest of the platoon had stayed in camp, with Kawalski.

A dozen foot-soldiers waited nearby, watching the surrounding woods.

Autumn took a yellow and blue scarf from an inside pocket to cover the captain’s genitals, at least what was left of them.

“Goddamned animals,” she whispered as she spread the scarf over him.

“Did they do this because we killed so many of them on the trail?” Sharakova asked.

“No,” Alexander said. “He’s been dead for several days. I think they killed him as soon as he landed.”

“They must have seen him coming down and captured him when he hit the ground,” Autumn said. “But why did they have to torture him like this?” His body was covered with numerous small wounds and bruises.

“I don’t know,” Alexander said, “but we have to get him buried. There’s not enough of us to fight off a major attack.” He glanced around at the darkening woods. “Not out here.”

“We can’t bury him naked,” Sharakova said.

“Why not?” Lojab asked. “He came into the world that way.”

“I’ve got a Mylar blanket in my backpack,” Joaquin said, turning his back to Sharakova. “It’s in the side pocket.”

When she removed the tightly folded blanket, a long object fell from his pack. “Oh, sorry, Joaquin.” She knelt to pick it up.

Tin Tin Ban Sunia noticed the shiny instrument, and her eyes widened. She nudged Liada with her elbow. Liada saw it, too, and it was apparent both of them wanted to ask about it but decided this wasn’t the right time.

Sharakova handed the instrument to Joaquin, and he brushed dirt from the polished metal, then smiled at her. “It’s fine.”

She spread the silver blanket out on the ground, while the others started loosening the dirt with their sharp knives. They began digging the grave by hand. Tin Tin and Liada helped, and soon the hole was three feet deep and seven feet long.

“That will do,” Alexander said.

They placed the captain’s body on the blanket and folded it over him. After they gently placed him in the grave, Autumn stood at the foot of grave and removed her helmet.

“Our Father, who art in heaven…”

The others removed their helmets and bowed their heads. Liada and Tin Tin stood with them, looking down at the body.

Autumn finished the Lord’s Prayer, then said, “We now commend our friend and commander to Your hands, Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” the others said.

“Sarge,” Joaquin whispered as he held up the shiny flute that had fallen from his backpack.

Alexander nodded, then Joaquin placed the flute to his lips and began to play Ravel’s Bolero. As the somber notes of the music drifted over the twilight clearing, the other soldiers knelt to begin filling the grave with handfuls of dirt.

Liada, too, knelt, helping to cover the dead captain.

Only Tin Tin Ban Sunia and Joaquin remained standing. As Tin Tin stared in open-mouthed wonder at Joaquin playing the music, her right hand moved as if by its own accord, like a creature coiling and blindly feeling for something in the leather purse at her hip. She lifted the old wooden flute she’d made at Carthage, eleven years before.

Joaquin noticed the movement and watched as she took the flute in her fingertips. His hands, though scarred and powerful, danced a delicate ballet over the silver keys. Tin Tin waited until he paused, then she put her flute to her lips and began to play.

The others seemed not to notice the notes of the music as they worked on filling the grave, but Joaquin certainly did—she was playing, note-for-note, Bolero exactly as he’d played it a few moments before. He began his music again, matching her place in the song but playing an octave lower than she.

Autumn looked at Tin Tin, then at Joaquin. She smiled as tears ran down her cheeks, then she smoothed the dirt over Captain Sanders’ grave.

It was after 9 p. m. when they returned to the encampment.

“We go to find Cateri,” Liada said as she and Tin Tin turned to leave the soldiers of the Seventh.