Exactly as the Outcast wanted them to do. By then he was behind them, the club in his hands. He could have killed more with the bow, but there were only four now—and he had seen their leader kick the young woman. He swung, and the metal spike buried itself in the nearest warrior’s skull. The warrior stiffened but didn’t cry out, and in a heartbeat the Outcast had tugged the spike out and was behind the next. This one he caught on the side of the head. The spike went in the ear and the warrior bleated and died.
The other two whirled.
The Outcast tried to jerk the spike out, but it was lodged fast in the bone. Letting go of the handle, he drew his knife and his tomahawk.
The two warriors drew their blades. The leader barked something and both attacked at once.
His arms a blur, the Outcast slashed, countered, stabbed. They pressed him hard. They were skilled, these two, but so was he. Blade rang on blade and knife rang on tomahawk. The leader cut his arm. The other sliced his side but not deep. He swept the tomahawk around and up and the keen edge sank into the other’s throat, splitting the soft flesh and sending a scarlet spray every which way. That left the leader.
Skin Shredder saw Splashes Blood fall, and bounded back. He knew that alone he was no match for this warrior who had come out of nowhere and slain his friends with fierce ease, and as he saw no reason to needlessly throw his life away, he threw his knife, instead, at the warrior’s face.
The Outcast ducked. The knife flew over his head, and he straightened to find the leader fleeing up the mountain with the agility and speed of a mountain sheep. He started to give chase but caught himself. To rush into the dark after an enemy who might be waiting for him was foolish. There would be another day. He turned toward the young woman.
“No!” Zach struggled to get between them.
The Outcast walked over to her. He avoided an attempt by the breed to kick him. He looked into her eyes and she looked into his. He saw no fear, not until she glanced at her husband, who was trying to reach him to kick at him again. The Outcast lowered his knife and cut the rope around her wrist and then the rope around her ankles. He sheathed his knife and reached down.
“Don’t hurt her, damn you!” Zach shouted.
The Outcast thought she would recoil but she was unafraid. Pressing his hand to her stomach, he said softly, “Do you understand?”
Lou glanced down at herself. His words held no meaning but his gesture spoke volumes. She placed her hand over his and smiled.
The Outcast grew warm all over. His throat would not work. He coughed and stepped back. The breed had stopped trying to kick him and was staring at him in such astonishment, the Outcast laughed. “Take better care of her than I did of mine.”
“What was that? I don’t speak your tongue.”
The Outcast smiled at the woman. He collected his club and the bow and quiver of arrows. He climbed on the pinto and rode to the south. The valley was big. At the south end was a mountain that interested him. Perhaps he would stay there a while. Perhaps he would stop wandering.
“What in the world?” Zach blurted.
“I think we have a new friend.” Lou took a knife that had fallen to the grass, and freed him.
Zach was thinking of the one that got away. He dashed to the bay and took his pistol from the parfleche and made sure it was loaded. Then he swung up and extended his arm. “Climb on.”
“But all these dead men and their weapons and whatnot?”
“I’ll come back with Shakespeare. Right now I’m getting you home, where it’s safe.”
Louisa King tingled with happiness. “Home it is.”
Author’s Note
The accounts of the Tunkua in the King journals have puzzled anthropologists and historians. Some say there was no such tribe. In Nate King’s defense, a few observations are in order.
First, it is uncontested that before the coming of the white man, North America was home to hundreds of tribes. Exactly how many went extinct is uncertain, but the number is great. Some died of disease. Some were wiped out in war. Some assimilated into other tribes.
Migrations were another factor. Tribes drifted to better hunting grounds or fled from hostile tribes or moved to get away from the whites or were moved by force by the whites.
It is interesting to note that at one time there lived along the Texas coast a tribe called the Tonkahans. They were believed to be cannibals. No one knows what became of them. An account by an early Texas settler suggests they migrated “north.”
The Wilderness Series:
#1: KING OF THE MOUNTAIN
#2: LURE OF THE WILD
#3: SAVAGE RENDEZVOUS
#4: BLOOD FURY
#5: TOMAHAWK REVENGE
#6: BLACK POWDER JUSTICE
#7: VENGEANCE TRAIL
#8: DEATH HUNT
#9: MOUNTAIN DEVIL HAWKEN FURY (Giant Edition)
#10: BLACKFOOT MASSACRE
#11: NORTHWEST PASSAGE
#12: APACHE BLOOD
#13: MOUNTAIN MANHUNT
#14: TENDERFOOT
#15: WINTERKILL
#16: BLOOD TRUCE
#17: TRAPPER’S BLOOD
#18: MOUNTAIN CAT
#19: IRON WARRIOR
#20: WOLF PACK
#21: BLACK POWDER
#22: TRAIL’S END
#23: THE LOST VALLEY
#24: MOUNTAIN MADNESS
#25: FRONTIER MAYHEM
#26: BLOOD FEUD
#27: GOLD RAGE
#28: THE QUEST
#29: MOUNTAIN NIGHTMARE
#30: SAVAGES
#31: BLOOD KIN
#32: THE WESTWARD TIDE
#33: FANG AND CLAW
#34: TRACKDOWN
#35: FRONTIER FURY
#36: THE TEMPEST
#37: PERILS OF THE WIND
#38: MOUNTAIN MAN
#39: FIREWATER
#40: SCAR
#41: BY DUTY BOUND
#42: FLAMES OF JUSTICE
#43: VENGEANCE
#44: SHADOW REALMS
#45: IN CRUEL CLUTCHES
#46: UNTAMED COUNTRY
#47: REAP THE WHIRLWIND
#48: LORD GRIZZLY
#49: WOLVERINE
#50: PEOPLE OF THE FOREST (Giant Edition)
#51: COMANCHE MOON
#52: GLACIER TERROR
#53: THE RISING STORM
#54: PURE OF HEART
#55: INTO THE UNKNOWN
#56: IN DARKEST DEPTHS
#57: FEAR WEAVER
#58: CRY FREEDOM
#59: ONLY THE STRONG
Copyright © 2009 by David L. Robbins