Chapter 106
“He jumped us, Cap’n!” one of the privates cried, pleading for understanding.
I ignored them and gathered my dead husband in my arms, carrying him to the burial plot where Butterfly rested. James set some of his men to hacking out a grave. Before setting a foot toward the south, I saw that beautiful man wrapped in a blanket and covered with earth. The hairbine he left for me years ago went around his brow. His medicine pouch was secreted on his person.
We found Lone Eagle’s dead pony less than half a league from the Mead. Injured in the ambush, the brave was making his way to me when he saw the troopers in the meadow. Wounded, probably dying, he made one last desperate attempt to take some of the enemy with him. A death song on his bleeding lips, Lone Eagle charged into the troops firing his rifle and raising his hatchet.