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CHAPTER 42

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Keme and the others were herded off the ship and split up into three wagons. He sat among those who remained of Chapa’s men. Lusio had fallen asleep, his head on Keme’s shoulder. He’d known many of these men from childhood. Some had been friends who later ignored him, not wanting to be seen with a coward. All, at one time or another, had looked down on him. They headed north down a trail along the river. He guessed they would turn east at some point.

Enola was somewhere in the first wagon with Chapa. He doubted he could stand what was about to happen to her. If it wasn’t for Chapa, none of this would be happening.

“Keme,” Jayco whispered next to him, “we’re kinda hoping you have a suggestion.”

“Why do you ask me?” Keme whispered. “You’re with Chapa.”

“We were idiots for following him,” Jayco said.

The others muttered in agreement and stared at him as if he had the answer. How could anyone have the answer? One of soldiers driving the wagon looked back at them for a few seconds, then turned around. Smoke lingered in the air. As he thought, the wagons turned east. Perhaps an outlander settlement was up ahead with smoke pouring out of every chimney.

Keme caught a glimpse of an arrow painted blue and white stuck in a tree. It was one of Leotie’s arrows, in the same place where they had hunted many times, including the last time before the battle. A sudden horror came over him. Clawson was taking them to their old camp site. The other men started to realize it and whispered to each other.

Keme’s ‘brothers’ sat together, their fists tightening and rage filling their eyes as they reached the camp. The wagons came to a halt. Rows of trees had been cut or burned. Their once beautiful home was now filled with burned wigwams. More smoke rose up from an area being cleared of trees by fire. His own people, wearing plain brown clothes, were heavily guarded by soldiers and working to guide the flames toward the woods.

A few log buildings stood on the south side. Soldiers went in and out of them. Two more buildings were on the north side. Armed soldiers patrolled areas where his people worked, making sure nobody escaped. Near the north buildings two men tied to poles struggled as whips lashed at their backs.

Keme looked away and winced, unable to stand such a disgrace. His hands shook with anger as he struggled to calm down, knowing well he would only get into trouble. He no longer regretted going to the cabin, because if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have known what was going on. There was nothing he could do but wait and learn.

Keme wondered if Markus had found out Leotie had got shot. Maybe he would be angry with Clawson over it. After all, he called himself her master or perhaps he didn’t care anymore.

Soldiers came over and motioned for everyone to get out of the wagon. Keme obeyed, along with the others. Chapa and Enola emerged out of the first wagon. She paused at the sight of their former home and let out a cry of shock, continuing to weep. Her distress hit him hard. She looked at him with tears streaming down her face. He took several deep breaths, straining to hold himself together.

Chapa shouted in a half cry. “Nooooo! Where is the Great Spirit? You can’t let this happen!” He looked up, yelling over and over again.

Clawson shouted for him to shut up, but he continued to scream like a madman. Other natives struggled as well only, to be hit with clubs, sending them to the ground.

“The Mahasi will die before becoming slaves!” Chapa spat at them.

The soldiers’ faces turned red and veins bulged. They ripped Chapa away from the group and wrestled him over to a wooden structure mounted in the ground. They slammed the top part down on his neck, trapping his wrists and head. One soldier locked it with a metal pin. Chapa tried to pry it open, but his hands couldn’t reach the pin. He continued to try and shake loose of the thing.

“Does anyone else want to go in the rack?” Clawson motioned to three more racks baking in the sun.

Everyone stood in silence and trembled. There were only two choices, cooperate or hope to be killed. Chapa continued to shout and struggle. Perhaps he wanted to die.

In another field, women planted seed while the forest burned. Keme tried to see his mother, but they were too far away. A gust of wind blew the smoke over them. Some coughed, others held their breath. All the men stared in horror. Tears ran down Lusio’s cheeks.

Clawson paced before them. “See what you’ve done by your stubbornness. You could’ve left when I gave you the chance. Many died in the fort attack, including my oldest son. I won’t stop until those responsible are found and punished. Those who provide useful information will be rewarded.”

Everyone stared as if in a trance, the life drained out of their souls. A few others glanced at Keme.

“Why do you look at him?” Clawson asked.

Nobody answered.

“Why?” Clawson insisted.

“He tried to get us to leave while Chapa urged us to war.” Jayco nudged his chin toward Chapa. “If anyone is responsible for the fort attack, it would be Chapa.” 

Everyone nodded and grumbled in agreement.

Clawson glanced back at Chapa. “He’ll certainly pay for his crimes.” His eyes met Keme’s.

A young man with a key went around and unlocked all the clasps and chains from their wrists and ankles. It took two of them to gather all the metal and toss it in the back of a cart. His limbs felt light. He sighed in relief. Clawson directed them over to an area with several logs on the ground and various supplies. Bobby came over and stopped by the logs.

"We need another shelter built like the others. Bobby has been trained on how to build them and will instruct you. Do your work, and you’ll have supper tonight. Guards are posted, so don't even think about trying to run." He stepped up to Keme. "I’ll talk to you later. Don’t give me any trouble."

Before Keme could say anything, Clawson walked back toward the wagon and waved to another man approaching the first wagon where Enola was standing. This older man had short, white hair. He was tall and narrow boned for a man with a gold laced hat and gold fringes on his shoulders. Keme guessed him to be a chief of some kind over Clawson. Keme listened hard, and noticed Clawson called the older man Colonel Lewis.

Lewis’ tone became short and irritated. He got back on his horse and left. Clawson stared a moment. He turned to face Enola, got closer to her and lifted up her hair. Enola stepped back and hunched down.

“Hey you, stop staring and get to work!” shouted a soldier patrolling around the logs.

Keme ignored him as Clawson made a motion for his men to put Enola in the wagon. She struggled and was slapped by Clawson. He pointed his finger in her face and yelled. Enola stopped struggling and looked away from him. Keme imagined Enola trying to fight Clawson off, only to be beaten into submission. Rage and fear built up in Keme, and no matter what, he couldn’t stay silent.

“Leave her alone!” He bolted toward Clawson.

Three soldiers grabbed him.

“Clawson, please, don’t take her! She is a healer – a holy woman. None of this is her fault.”

Clawson walked up to him frowning. “This holy woman killed one of my men. She’ll do as I say.”

Keme struggled, sweating and straining, wanting to strangle Clawson.

“Is she your wife or life-bond, as you call it?” Clawson asked.

He nodded. “No, she is our healer.”

Clawson eyed him. “Oh, I think she’s a bit more than a healer to you.”

Keme realized that deep down he loved Enola too.

“No matter. Now she is just the spoils of war, but I’ll let her go work with the women if you tell me who attacked the fort?”

“I already told you, but you refuse to believe!” Keme shouted, pulling and trying to escape. In desperation he tried to come up with a distraction. “That white wolf was a skin walker. She’s not the only one. You might be in danger if they find out you were responsible for her death.”

“Who are you to try and scare me?” Clawson motioned to his men. “Even if that was true, that wolf went down easy enough. I’ll kill more skin walkers if they dare show their ugly faces.” Clawson translated in English in a sarcastic tone for his soldiers, who chuckled. He motioned toward Chapa. “Put him in the rack next to his best friend.”

Keme struggled against them as Enola was tied up and tossed into the back of a wagon.

The soldiers locked his head and wrists into rack. He tried to kick at them. The soldiers only laughed. He couldn’t see where the wagon was going and fought against the wood, screaming for them to stop and losing his voice until the sun set.