Red Bird's Song by Beth Trissel Read Free Book Online Page A

for the stomach. For more also."
    She chewed, savoring the sweet taste. He popped a piece into his mouth and proceeded at a pace her knee could tolerate, seeming more like an amiable escort than her enemy.
    A woodpecker hammered overhead as the first men in a line of warriors appeared in front of them. The drum of the bird had muffled their stealthy approach, and a bend in the trail hid the emerging figures. Even without the distraction, she wouldn't have detected their coming, like silent owls winging across the sky.
    Posetha stepped to one side of the trail and pulled her with him. “It is all right. They are Shawnee."
    These tidings weren't equally reassuring to Charity. The men's forbidding expressions spurred her apprehension. More braves walked by, fifteen so far. This must be the third war party Colin had mentioned, their mood entirely unlike the other two bands. “What's wrong?” she whispered to Posetha.
    "Bad fight.” He pointed to a warrior with an ugly leg wound leaning on the support of a friend and hobbling along. Another man's bloody shoulder bore witness to a musket blast.
    A young warrior hailed Posetha. “Stay here, Charity,” he said, and headed toward his friend.
    She watched the sullen procession file past. Her stomach lurched at the sight of two braves dragging a young man by a thong around his neck, his wrists bound, torn shirt bloodied. He was a strapping man, but the beatings had laid him low.
    Dear God . That swollen bleeding face belonged to Rob Buchanan, the man her guardians wanted her to marry.
    One of the warriors dragging Rob gave him a vicious kick. The other brave plunged a fist into his stomach. Rob doubled over, groaning. Two other warriors ahead of him turned around and joined in the assault. Rob fell down onto his knees, struggling vainly to rise under the blows raining down on him. The first warrior kicked him to the ground and the others pounded at him with their fists. He lay face down, moaning.
    "For God's sake—stop!” Hurtling past the startled warriors, Charity shouldered one brave aside and threw herself over Rob's barely conscious form. “Leave him be! Leave him be!” The loyal dog punctuated her screams with ear-bending barks.
    The staring warriors paused in their attack and stood like statues carved of flesh and blood. Posetha rushed to her side and closed his arms around her waist. “Come away."
    Digging her toes into the earth, she clung to Rob's bloody back. “I won't leave him to die. Make them stop!"
    "I cannot.” Posetha tore her from Rob.
    The moment of stunned stillness ended. Grumbling angrily, the warriors closed in on her like wolves for the kill. Posetha, alone, didn't seem enough of a barrier to the snarling pack. “Mechee! Mechee! Help me!” God let him hear.
    "Be still, girl,” a low voice hissed from behind.
    She turned her head. The clustered men allowed a powerful warrior through the circle—surely the most menacing brave yet. He glared down at her with slitted eyes.
    "Your cries wake even the trees. If Long Knives are near, they will hear you. Silence weshe , Posetha."
    Posetha released Charity and grabbed the outraged dog, muzzling him with his hand. “ Okema , Chief Outhowwa,” he said. His quiet voice held fear.
    Black terror constricted her stomach and her legs grew weak. Even if Posetha hadn't told her this was the chief, she would have guessed. Everything about Outhowwa spoke of crushing strength and the knowledge that comes with hard experience. Sunlight touched his gleaming scalp lock and the silver pendants hanging from his split wire-wrapped earlobes.
    Bear claws dangled from the necklace around his thick neck and rested on his chest. Four parallel scars ran from just below his right eye to the iron set of his jaw in testimony to the price he'd paid for this gruesome prize.
    She clenched her teeth against another desperate cry. One blow from the club in his fist would splinter her skull.
    Outhowwa dismissed her with a contemptuous