FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This story is a work of fiction. The story and characters are copyright Radical Gopher and may not be duplicated or used without the express permission of the author. This story contains adult situations and should not be viewed by those under the age of eighteen.

____________________________________________________________________________

A DISTANT SHORE - PLANS AND PREPARATIONS

Gabe kept his revolver trained on the four soldiers while Snowbird dismounted and led the rest of their horses over to a hitching post. Once firmly secured, she returned to the Marshall's side. The Collier girl yelled several invectives after her, but the vixen simply ignored them.

"We need to sort this out, and quickly," the wolf said. "Think you can tell me which one I can trust?"

Snowbird nodded silently, then removed her mask, staring at the soldiers with her spirit eye. The bear, cougar and hyena all seemed to visibly shiver as she examined them. After a brief moment or two she pointed to the Lieutenant. "Him," she said. "You can trust him." Her face became cold and grim and her red eye almost seemed to flare slightly in disgust. "The others you should shoot. It will save you time and trouble."

Gabe shook his head. "Wish I could oblige you, but I can't. I have to save as many of my charges for the judge as I can. That's the way the law works."

"That is the way it works on the Eastern shore," she said as she replaced her mask. "That is not how it works here."

The Marshall focused on Evans. "Lieutenant... Pick yourself up and relieve those men of their weapons. If I'm not mistaken, they just committed mutiny."

"They've done more than that," the fennec replied angrily as he disarmed the Sergeant and his men. He brought the weapons over to the wolf and dumped them unceremoniously on the ground in front of him. "Murder and rape under color of authority should be added to that."

"There are some handcuffs in my saddlebag. I'll keep those three covered while you bind them." He focused on the soldiers. "Hands behind your backs, if you please gentlemen."

"You don't have any authority over us Marshall," the Sergeant growled.

"Maybe I do... and maybe I don't." Gabe replied cocking his pistol. "But I've got five damn good reasons right here as to why you should shut up and do what your told... otherwise I might just decide to take my deputy's advice."

Lieutenant Evans cuffed the three soldiers then Gabe made them turn around and kneel. Once their backs were turned, he holstered his pistol and nodded to the fennec. "Watch ‘em," he said softly. He slowly brought his leg across and dismounted. Snowbird was immediately at his side, helping to support him as he reached the ground.

"You're hurt?" Evans whispered.

"Comes with the territory," the Marshall replied as Snowbird guided him to a row of tree stumps and made him sit down on one.

"There's a medic marching with the troop. When they and the Colonel get here he can see to that wound if you'd like."

"Collier's on his way here?"

Evans nodded. "Rainstorm blocked the pass, so he sent me and these... these... bastards, ahead to scout Henderson Gap. He's convinced the Temple gang is hold up with the Chimney Rock tribe. It'll be a big relief when you can set him straight."

"It'll be a big something," Gabe replied, keeping his voice low, "but it won't be what Collier wants." The wolf looked over at the young fennec. "By the way, our head's bleeding," he observed casually.

Evans reached up and touched the side of his head, feeling at the lump there. When he brought his fingers away there was a thin coating of blood on them. Taking off his red neckerchief he quickly rolled it into a bandanna and tied it around his head forming a makeshift bandage.

"Collier's using this incident to get a war started," Gabe continued, "and it looks like we're going to have to stop him, for his own good if nothing else. How long until he gets here."

"Four hours maybe... Sooner if they force marched."

The Marshall glanced around the stockade. "How good are you at tactics, Lieutenant?"

"I was second in my class at the Academy. What do you need?"

"I need you to make this place defensible enough so a small group, say four or five people, can hold off something about the size of your troop."

The fennec looked around, quickly studying the stockade walls. "How long are we talking Marshall?"

"Half a day... no more," Gabe replied.

Evans nodded. "I can give you that... and maybe a bit more if we're lucky."

"Let's get started then."

* * * *

It took about two hours to sort out the immediate problems. The native family was released from the tool shed and replaced with the Sergeant, Phibbs, Cutter and Temple. The native women were all for setting the shed on fire with the prisoners inside. Snowbird however was able to convince them that it was more important to tend the bodies of their family first. The two male furs were laid out carefully and covered with hides until the opportunity presented itself to hold a proper burial ceremony.

April Collier was secured in the long house, tied to a lodge pole so she couldn't stick knives in anyone else. She watched in sullen silence as the two youngest natives cared for their sister, the girl McMullen had whipped so savagely. Snowbird was kept busy tending her, casting healing spells and doing what she could. The girl would live, but she would be scarred for life.

Gabe, at Snowbird's insistence, rested on the travois, which had been moved into some shade near the tool shed. From there he could keep an eye on the prisoners with a minimum of effort.

During this time Lieutenant Evans did the work of three furs; tending the horses, carrying water, preparing weapons and firing positions as well as a dozen other things. It seemed he couldn't do enough, trying to make amends for what his men had wrought. Through it all, the native girls avoided him. The fennec could hardly blame them under the circumstances. He was therefore somewhat surprised when the eldest vixen actually brought him something to eat. Handing him the wooden plate, she said something quietly then left. Evans looked quizzically at the Marshall who lay nearby.

"She just thanked you for the life of her son," Gabriel White Cloud said.

Evans watched as the vixen disappeared into the long house with her papoose. He turned to the Marshall. "You speak their language. Can you tell them how sorry I am for what happened here... as a favor."

Gabe shook his head. "Sorry, no!"

"But..."

"It's not necessary. She understands and has shown her forgiveness by giving you something to eat. An apology would just make that gesture... awkward."

"I don't understand."

"She respects you for what you did. She doesn't think of you the same way she views your men. Because she's the eldest, the other girls will eventually follow her example. If you try apologizing, you'll associate yourself with the Sergeant and his friends and that will destroy what little respect you've earned. So, take my advice... keep your mouth shut about it, especially around them."

Evans nodded, opening his mouth to ask another question when he was interrupted by a loud chirring sound. He looked up and spotted a wyvern circling the compound. Without warning it folded its wings and dove on the Marshall. It pulled out of its dive at the last moment and landed with a awkward thump in front of the law-fur.

Scrambling to its feet, it clambered up the travois and nuzzled itself against Gabe, chittering loudly. Evans just stared in disbelief. He'd never seen a wyvern before except at a distance, nor had he ever heard of one being kept as a pet. Yet here it was, treating the wolf as if it were its mother.

Gabe gently scratched the underside of the wyvern's jaw then looked up at the fennec. "Go find Snowbird and ask her come here."

When the white-furred vixen arrived she brought with her a small bowl of meat scraps. This she handed to the Marshall and watched as he began feeding the creature. When its hunger was sated, she held out her left arm. A thick pad of deerskin was wrapped around it. Chirring, the wyvern hopped up on her arm and rubbed its head against first her, then Gabe. Holding up her other hand in front of the miniature dragon she looked deeply into its eyes. For a long moment, neither moved, then with a sigh the Indian girl placed it into the Marshall's lap.

"They have reached the west end of the valley."

Gabe did some quick calculations. "They'll be here within the hour then," he replied. He turned to Evans. "Lieutenant... I want you to gather up all the rifles and give our native friends a quick lesson on how to load, aim and fire them. Snowbird will help translate for you."

Looking around the Marshall spotted the young native boy carrying a large pail of water. He whistled. The boy looked over at him, put down the pail and trotted over to him.

"What is your name," Gabe asked.

"I am Gray Eagle."

The wolf nodded. "Well, Gray Eagle, I have a warrior's task for you. Do you think you are up to it?"

The young todd pulled himself straight and nodded solemnly.

"Good. We need to send word to Chief Swift Arrow that furs from the eastern shore have invaded the land of Chimney Rocks. I want you to take one of the horses. Tell him your family is trying to slow them down here, but that we need his help if they are to be driven back to the other side of the river."

"A warrior needs a knife," the boy replied simply, looking Gabe in the eyes.

The Marshall nodded. "You're right." He reached down and undid the bowie knife he had strapped around his left leg and handed it to the todd. "Use this... You will have earned it as your own when you fulfill your task."

The boy took it, tied it around his waist and in a flash was mounted and riding through the stockade gate. Gabe stood and walked stiffly over to the gate. He watched as the todd disappeared from sight, then he slowly pushed the gate closed and threw the bar across it. A slight dizziness washed over him and he leaned against the wall until his head cleared. When it did, he saw Snowbird standing next to him. She took his arm across her shoulder and helped him back to the travois. Once settled back in, she cuffed him, not too gently, across the muzzle.

"You rest. Do not move around or I will tie you down myself."

"Is that a promise?" Gabe replied smiling. The native girl simply let out a frustrated huff and walked over to where Evans was busy teaching the other women how to shoot.

The native women were quick learners and within thirty minutes were loading, aiming and firing with a reasonable alacrity. It helped that the rifles were all breach-loaders, and thought their accuracy left something to be desired, they were good enough to probably force Colonel Collier to keep his head down. Snowbird refused to participate. She had her bow and arrows if necessary and wrinkled her snout at the thought of using ‘civilized' weapons.

As the women practiced dry firing the weapons, Snowbird knelt and scooped up a handful of the reddish earth that made up the compound's parade ground. Pouring in a small quantity of water, she mixed it until it became a paste. To this she added a small amount of blue powder from a wooden flask. The paste thinned into a bluish dye, which she began to paint on the faces of the women as a crescent moon on either side of their eyes. "Do not wipe this off," she said simply.

"What is it?" asked Evans, curiously. "War paint?"

She looked at the fennec fox for a moment or two as if considering something, then reached up and applied the same symbol to the outside arc of each eye. "No," she replied. "It's magic."

"How does this magic of yours work?" Evans asked

"Try sighting along your weapon, the way you normally would."

The fennec did as instructed and suddenly discovered that his sight picture had advanced, almost as if he were looking through a telescope of some kind. He lowered his rifle then raised it again, repeating the action several times. "This is incredible!" he muttered. "No wonder your people won every battle in the Three Year War."

"It is one of many reasons we should not fight. Our magics are more powerful than your weapons. They always have been. Your Colonel does not realize what he is up against."

"I'm afraid Colonel Collier doesn't believe in magic."

"He is a fool then," she replied. Snowbird cocked her head slightly to one side as she looked at Evans. "Why do you follow such a person?"

"Duty for the most part, though I'm beginning to wonder about that myself," the fennec said with some shame. He looked up at Snowbird, a hard edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. "One thing I can tell you... As of right now, things are going to change; one way or another."

The white vixen nodded in satisfaction. Reaching into her shoulder bag, she removed a smooth, obsidian stone. On it was inscribed a symbol the Lieutenant didn't recognize. She pressed the stone against Evan's forehead and said something in her native tongue. She then slipped it into his shirt pocket, "Keep this with you. Its magics are only good for one day, but it will allow you to understand and speak with my sisters and I in our own language. It will prove useful if and when we engage in battle."

"Thank-you," he replied.

"Do not thank me. Because of this you will hear and understand many bitter words. When you hear them, do not respond. My sisters have every right to be angry with your people and it will take time to assuage their feelings. If you behave like a warrior and give their words no heed, this will pass."

"And if I don't?" Evans asked.

Snowbird looked at him as if he were a child with a very foolish question. "Then, they will likely kill you," she replied simply.

* * * *

The mid-morning sun had burned the chill from the air by the time Colonel Collier and his troop came in sight of the stockade. It bothered him that neither Lieutenant Evans nor Sergeant McMullen had met the column as it advanced. Reaching the stream bed he called a halt, signaling his men to spread into a single skirmish line along its bank. Facing them, about thirty yards ahead was a single figure on horseback. Collier cursed silently as he recognized the gray-furred wolf. A Sharp's rifle rested across the Marshall's saddle-horn. More than likely the hammer was already at the half-cocked position.

"That's about far enough, Colonel," Gabe called out, his voice carrying easily across the stream. "These here are the Fifteen Tribes' lands, which you happen to be trespassing on. As such, you and your men are in violation of treaty. I strongly recommend you turn your troop around and head on back to the river, before you cause any more trouble."

"I'm sorry, Marshall, eh... White Cloud... isn't it?" replied the badger. "But we're here on a rescue mission."

"A rescue mission... interesting," Gabe observed, drawing out the confrontation. "Who... or might I ask what... precisely are you of a mind to be rescuing."

"I think you already know the answer to that, Marshall. I received information that the Black Creek Gang's hold up at Chimney Rock. I intend to go there and rescue my daughter."

"Well... I'm sorry to tell you you've wasted a trip."

"How's that Marshall?"

"I've already killed or driven off what's left of the Black Creek gang, recovered the army's payroll and have Temple himself in custody."

"And my daughter?"

"She's safe enough," White Cloud replied. "I'll be bringing her out with Temple, after you and your soldiers are safely back on your side of the river."

"Where is she?" growled the badger... "At Chimney Rocks?"

"No..." Gabe answered. "She's with me."

Captain Lewis edged his horse up next to Collier. "Begging the Colonel's pardon;" he said, keeping his voice low. "But if Marshall White Cloud's already arrested Temple and recovered your daughter, we don't have even half a leg to stand on for mounting this expedition."

Collier looked at the lynx. "Maybe... but so far as I can tell it's all talk." Turning his attention back to the wolf, he raised himself in his saddle. "Marshall... If Temple and my daughter are indeed with you, then wouldn't it be better for us to provide you with a military escort back to the river? There'd be less chance of an escape than if one fur was escorting him alone."

Gabe smiled to himself, playing out the game of courtesies. "That's a mighty generous offer Colonel... but I'm afraid there's some who'd consider it a conflict of interest if you were to bring the prisoners back. Besides, that's why they pay me forty gold a month... to do my job, not pass it onto others to do."

The badger's jaw tightened and he scowled deeply. That half-breed bastard knew... He knew! How could he have Temple and his daughter and not know?

"If it would make you feel any better, Colonel," Gabe called out, "you're more than welcome to cross on over and confirm the truth for yourself, though I'm afraid your men will have to remain where they are for now."

Collier's mind began racing. It was probably just what the Marshall wanted him to do. As soon as he came within arms length the wolf would more likely than not slap a set of handcuffs on him. Temple was the kind of fur who would talk, if he thought it might save him from the gallows; and while the Colonel could probably beat any charges brought against him, it would ruin his career. He wondered briefly how White Cloud even imagined that he could get away with subduing him, let alone arresting him. His eyes drifted up to the stockade. Of course... he must have a posse with him, under cover behind the walls.

"Captain Lewis..." called the badger.

"Yes sir?"

"I'd like you to accompany the Marshall and report back the status of my daughter. The men and I shall wait here... for now."

The lynx saluted and gently kicked his heels against the sides of his mount. The horse stepped forward and crossed the small stream. The crystal clear water became clouded by the passage of its hooves.

A flash of disappointment washed across Gabe's mind. The Colonel hadn't taken the bait. He watched silently as the Captain rode up to him and saluted.

"The Colonel's compliments, sir. He asked me to accompany you to check the status of your prisoners."

The Marshall held out his hand. "Your pistol, sir."

Lewis unsnapped his holster and handed it over to Gabe without a word. Wheeling his horse sharply, the wolf cantered into the stockade with the Captain close behind him. The gate swung closed behind them.

TO BE CONTINUED