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Soldier's Joy (Wolvenrogue and Paralee)

wolvenrogue

Singularity
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Aug 21, 2011
Tuck (Sargeant Arnold Tucker) had up until tonight been the best scout that the garrison at Fort Clay had. But all that changed when some new college boy straight from West Point was made the new Commander. Tuck was older than most, sure, but he knew the land like the back of his hand, and could ride further and faster, and shoot straighter than any man in the outfit. Sure he drank a bit, but so what? His passion for liquor and an occasional floosy were well known by everyone but never did it cause him to miss a patrol. No one in the command worked as hard. None of this mattered to Captain Charles. He was going to "tighten up" his new command even if he ruined it in the process. The day after the Captain arrived, Tuck was drummed out with not even a little recognition of his good service. The Captain was making a statement.

Tuck took it in stride, and headed down to the saloon to celebrate his freedom and drink away his sorrows. There was little left for an old soldier. They gave him his horse and saddle, and his Colt Navy revolver. That and a $20 gold piece. It bought a lot of cheap liquour, and before the night was over it was gone, and Tuck was out in the street, too drunk to ride. Sherriff Johnson helped his old friend up and walked him down to the jail to sleep it off only to be intercepted by the Captain who insisted he be given custody of Tuck on the basis he had disgraced the uniform. Within the hour Tuck found himself in the brig at the fort. Thrown in the cell with an Indian woman they were holding. The fort had only one cell and they didnt care a bit for Indians anyway, particularly the women.

Tuck was thrown into the cell and curled up on the floor and went to sleep. He'd slept in far worse places than this. The young woman would hardly be seeing him at his best. His normally sandy hair was full of dust from the road as was his uniform and he was much less impressive laying drunk on the floor. He was a great bear of a man, barrel chested and tall at 6ft 7" . His thighs were like trees and his arms thick and hard with muscle. He had little fat on him, his body chizzeled out by months on the trail at a time. His hands were rough and hard. There was no missing that he was used to hard physical work. Many a man had been the victim of those fists, which the soldiers he worked with swore were made of stone. Still most who knew him considered him a gentle giant who would do anything he could to help a lady.
 
O'kéné’s name translated to blind eye. Born with one healthy amber brown eye, the other a foggy pale blue with the faintest hint of an iris. Members of her Cheyenne tribe said that Maheo, their Great Spirit, took her one eye as trade for her father murdering the Chief’s brother. Cursed? No. Blessed, definitely not. But being ‘touched’ by Maheo placed O'kéné in a space between the tribes members that gave her many liberties that others did not possess.

One of those freedoms was to wander. And wander she did, often and far. This particular evening she came across a rancher’s home and spotted her cousin’s blue roan horse. Knowing she would be rewarded with one of his beautiful rabbit bone necklaces she devised a plan to steal the horse back. And she succeeded, whooping and galloping away bare back on the cherished mare until the beast was bitten by a rattlesnake. The horse reared, O'kéné hanging on to its long black mane tightly, and then she heard it, the vicious sound of the rattle and leapt from the horses back before it fell upon the ground and crushed her under neath its weight.

O'kéné cursed and blamed Wihio, the Cheyennes’ trickster spirit, for the snake and the sound of hounds and gun fire coming quickly from the ranchers cabin in the distance. Despite her long fast legs carrying her fast across the prairie she was no match for white men on horse back and their loud hounds. She fought them, lashing out with kicks and teeth and pummeling fist but the three men quickly gagged and bound her.

Now she was in the wooden and stone walls of what the white men called a ‘jail.’ They told her she would probably be hanged and raped in no particular order, whatever that meant. English had become almost a second language for her people for the white men did have strong medicine they would trade for, so communication was vital it peace was to be somewhat maintained. Sleeping uncomfortably on a long wooden bench O'kéné would awaken with a start as her jailer open her cell door and unceremoniously shoved a very large and very drunk man inside.

A soldier she could tell from his uniform. For three hours she studied the man, listening to his snoring, drunk mumbling of things she didn't quite understand. Saloon girl? Whiskey shot? Strange sayings, indeed. After a time O'kéné nudged the big man’s boot with her beaded moccasin.

“Maheo will keep you if you sleep long, yes.” It wasn't good to sleep too much, especially with fire water within the belly.
 
Tuck growled like the old bear he was. Who in hell was stupid enough to be poking him. His swift kick hit only the stone wall, and he howled in pain as he sat up on the dirt floor and tried to focus on the figure across the small cell. It was too small to be a man. "Tarnation! who sent you to torment me? You wouldn't even leave a grease spot in the dust!" He sat back against the cold stone wall. His head was throbbing like someone had a bucket over his head and was pounding on it. He looked around. This was the brig! not the jail. What the hell was he in here for. "Mackey! Mackey!" he shouted at the MP on duty "You get me outa here or I'll skin you alive! I aint in this man's army no more thanks to that West Point tin hat! He cant't hold me here. So help me! if I aint outa here in 10 seconds you are a dead man!"

He reached out through the bars and punced a hole in the glas of the gun cabinet with his bare hand, pulled out his colt navy and lined up for a shot. (he had warned Mackey a hundred times to move that cabinet. Now he would show him why. " OH shit ! Tuck! No! hold on a damn second." Mackey unlocked the cell and ran for his life. Tuck picked up his hat and stumbled out of the cell, through the office, and out into the yard . He fired thre shots through the Captain's office window and shouted so everyone would hear "when you are through wettin your pants, come and get me if you dare! He climbed on his horse and was about to ride off when he noticed the woman being chased across the yard. " He fired a shot at Clancey, his old friend and hit the toe of his boot, stopping him in his tracks and held down a hand for the woman. "come on! lets go!" he called out as he waited impatiently, "Your gonna get us both shot!
 
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