Chapter 6

A breeze swept over the land, rippling the long prairie grass, transforming it into a swirling mass. It was a scene that usually would have made Buck's heart soar with appreciation but not today. Brody had kept them moving throughout the day, only stopping briefly to water the horses. Buck had remained in the saddle the whole time, his hands still tightly bound behind him, denied food and water. By the time the sun began to sink in the sky he was completely done in, his head hung down, his long hair plastered to his face with the sweat which trickled from his unprotected head, as his hat had been left at the camp.

Half way through the day he had had to give in to nature's calling and although is offered him some brief sensation of relief, this was quickly replaced with the discomfort. Brody had kept a surreptitious eye on him, with glances over his shoulder at his bound captive. The sight of Buck's obvious misery gave him some measure of satisfaction. He was doing a service in bringing the half-breed to justice, after all. Even the boy had not denied he had killed Neville's son, indeed his deputy friend had defended his right to do so, on account of their friend being killed. Brody was a firm believer in the eye for an eye philosophy of life and reckoned he had every right to treat the criminals he brought in as he saw fit and if it meant breaking their spirit, so be it. It was only a couple more days to Omaha and by the time they reached their destination he reckoned the half-breed would be well and truly broken. It made no odds to him, as long as he was alive when he delivered him. Mr Neville would be only too pleased to finish him off.

It was near dark when Brody deemed to have found a suitable place to camp. This time he held firmly onto the reins, as he told Buck to get off his horse. Buck lifted his chin and gazed at Brody through the strands of matted hair, which hung about his face. Slipping his feet from the stirrups he leaned forward and managed to swing his leg over the back of the saddle and slid off but, as his feet hit the ground, his legs crumpled and he ended up lying at Brody's feet.

"I thought you injuns were made of harder stuff," Brody muttered, grabbing him by his jacket and dragging to his feet. He made a show of dusting off his shoulders and then indicated for Buck to move a few steps away.

"Knees," Brody commanded.

Brody merely raised his eyebrows in mock surprise at the contemptuous look Buck gave him. For a moment Buck considered refusing and stood fast, although he wasn't sure how he would handle the consequences. Brody put his hands on his hips, dropped his head forward and shook his head in disappointment, at his captive's refusal to co-operate. Then, with the swiftest of actions he kicked out, catching the back of Buck's leg, making it buckle and causing him to collapse to his knees. He would have fallen flat on his face had Brody not grabbed him, hauling him into an upright kneeling position.

"You're becomin' a real disappointment to me, boy," Brody spat into his face.

Buck met the man's glare with a steady, impassive gaze. He was determined not to give the bounty hunter any gratification and besides, the less he reacted or fought, the more energy he saved. He had not totally given up yet and was ever alert for a chance to make another bid for escape, although at present that seemed unlikely. He could only hope that Jimmy had come round and there was a possibility of help being on its way.

Buck's passive nature was beginning to irk Brody more than if he had struggled. There was something about the half-breed's quiet demeanour, which made him wary. He didn't believe in any of the mumbo jumbo that was bandied around about the powers some Indians possessed. He hadn't met a man yet he couldn't break and this slip of a boy wasn't going to be the exception.

"Sit back," he snapped at Buck, who slowly sank back to rest on his heels, as Brody reached a length of rawhide from out of his jacket pocket. Moving behind Buck he proceeded to tie his ankles together with the leather strips and then attach it to the ties, which bound Buck's hands together.

"Ain't much of a talker, are you?" Brody said, looping the rawhide around once more for good measure. He got no reply. "Not that I'm complainin' or nothin'. Had one fella, I was bringin' in, talked and talked, until in the end I could stand it no more. He soon quietened down when I sliced off his tongue."

Buck kept his breathing steady, his only response to the comment being a slight widening of his eyes, as he continued to stare blankly ahead. Brody watched him keenly and was disappointed in the boy's reaction, or lack of, which did nothing to improve his mood.

"Well, that's you sorted for the night," he said tetchily as he began to move away. This was enough to bring Buck out of his withdrawn state.

"You can't …," he began to rasp.

Brody spun back round to face him. "What's that, boy? You tellin' me what I can and can't do all of a sudden?"

Closing his eyes, Buck calmed the inner alarm he felt then gathered himself to look at the man who held his life in his hands. "No," he responded quietly. "I could really use some water … please," he continued, with as much civility as he could muster.

"Well, seein' as you asked so nicely …" Brody strode over to his horse and unhooked the canteen, swilling it's contents as he walked back. "Should be just enough in this one," he commented, removing the stopper. He stood before Buck and began to tip the canteen, letting its contents trickle out only an inch or so in front of him, then moved it back so as it landed on Buck's head and trickled down his face. Realising this was the only way he was going to get any water, Buck open his mouth and tried to capture as much of the liquid as he could, while Brody stood laughing, moving the canteen about his head, making the task frustratingly difficult. Buck only managed a couple of mouthfuls before the water ran out.

"Now, I'm gonna go and get set up for the night, a little ways off, so's I don't have to put up with the smell of you while I'm eating and you're gonna stay right here. Got it?" When Buck didn't respond Brody snapped. "Got it?" he shouted, kicking him in the side, knocking the air out of him.

Buck doubled over with impact of the blow but the restraints about his hands and feet impeded his movement and he fell to the ground, on his side. With a smirk of satisfaction Brody went about his business, leaving Buck where he had fallen.

For the next few minutes Buck lay still, catching his breath. He could hear Brody's heavy footsteps as he moved about, seeing to the horses and the dull thud of a saddle being dropped to the ground. He listened to the sound of twigs and branches being snapped, as a fire was prepared and water hitting the metal bottom of the coffee pot. He became aware of a small flash of light as the fire caught, sending out a flickering, low glow.

He lay as motionless as he could but soon he could bear the aches and pains, which coursed through his limbs and back, no longer. He tried to stretch his shoulders and roll his head but the movement just made the bindings about his wrists and ankles tighten. Even wriggling his fingers, in attempt to loosen the ties only seemed to make them dig into his flesh further. His head throbbed and his mouth was dry, despite the water he had managed to swallow. Things were not looking good; in fact they were looking pretty desperate.

As he tried to stretch once more he heard Brody get to his feet and his approaching footsteps. "I gotta warn you, if I catch you trying to get yourself lose I've got a whole lot of different ways to keep you in check," the bounty hunter said, taking casual sips of his coffee. "Although I'll say this for you, you're nice and quiet, a little too quiet for my liking. You still got a tongue in you? Or you like that dummy friend of yours I've heard about?"

Brody's words were like a punch to the gut for Buck. He trembled with inner rage that this man, who hadn't even known Ike, one of the kindest, sweetest guys to ever walk the earth, could refer to him in this way. Buck lost control and his emotions got the better of him as he made a futile lunge towards the bounty hunter, rolling towards the man, ending up in a balled heap at the man's feet. Brody simply laughed at his inept attempt. However, Buck's reaction gave him a good deal of satisfaction as he now knew he'd found a weakness in the boy's seemingly resolute composure.

"Well now, perhaps I got it wrong. Seems you still got some fight in you after all, injun. Maybe I need to watch you a little more careful. Know you injuns can be sly but hoped you'd be different, havin' lived with us white folk for so long. Sayin' that, didn't take much for you to go and kill a man. Still got some of the savage in you after all, huh?" Brody took another sip of his coffee before tossing the dregs aside.

"Untie me and I'll show you," Buck snarled angrily, glaring up at the man.

Brody was revelling in the fact he was beginning to get a rise from the boy and glad for the entertainment it offered. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Like to take a swing at me with that big, old knife of yours, or you only good at shooting folk in cold blood for no damn reason?"

"I had reason enough," Buck bit back.

"On account of some no bit gambler and that dumb mute? Mr. Neville's a respectable business man and his son might not have been all that he hoped he'd be but he came from a good, white family and a no account heathen, half-breed had no right to kill him like you did."

By now Buck was seething with contempt but could do nothing but take the insults, literally lying down. He struggled against his bindings once more as he hissed, "Ike was twice the man that Neville ever was and so was Metcalf. I'd do it again if given a chance. Neville got what he deserved."

Brody put a boot on Buck's arm and shoved him onto his back, straining his arms and legs further. "And Mr. Neville's gonna make sure you get what you deserve and perhaps a little bit more for good measure." He squatted down, rested his arms on his knees and sneered, "You ain't much of an injun brave now, are you?"

Having no words to describe how he was feeling at this moment, Buck just turned his head away. This action was enough to infuriate Brody who smacked his head round, snagged the bandana from about his own neck, forced it into Buck's mouth and secured it tightly into place behind his head. "Think I've heard all I want to hear from you for now," he commented dryly, getting to his feet, giving Buck a sharp kick in the side to appease his irritation with his forthright captive.

The gag tasted both salty and bitter in his mouth but it was nothing compared to the bad taste Brody's words had left. As he lay, staring up at the now unveiled stars, Buck thought back to the time when Ike had died and he had killed Neville.

It had seemed his world had been spiralling out of the control and when he had heard Teaspoon had no choice but to let Neville go, he felt he had to put a stop to the heinous events which had engulfed him, the other riders and most of all, Ike. To do this meant ridding the world of the cause of these events – Neville.

He supposed he had still been in shock when he took his gun, early that day and stood across the street from the jail and waited for Neville to come out. There was little he could remember about that morning. He did recall Cody had been talking in his sleep as he'd snuck out of the bunkhouse but had no idea what he was saying. His focus had solely been on seeking vengeance on the man who had killed his friend and the nearest he'd had to a true brother.

The previous day he had heard Teaspoon say he was going to make sure Neville left town, before any of his boys got themselves into trouble, so it had seemed safe to assume Neville would be leaving before any of them were up and about. So he'd set off just as the sun was rising and slipped around the back of the buildings, until he was opposite the jail and waited in the shadows.

He didn't have to wait long. The door of the jail clattered open and Buck had held his breath, expecting Teaspoon to emerge but it was Neville who had stepped out into the dim stillness of the morning light. The mere sight of him had made Buck draw his gun without hesitation and before he knew what he was doing he had stepped out of the shadows and into the street, to stand in front of Neville, gun levelled at his chest.

The odious man had protested he wasn't fit for a fight but that was of little consequence to Buck. A terrible wrong had been done to his friend and his Kiowa half demanded retribution. As Neville had dared him to pull the trigger, Buck had a moment of hesitation but when he had referred, not for the first time, to Ike as a dummy and had called him a half-breed so contemptuously, his response had been spontaneous. There had been a look of astonishment on Neville's face as he crumpled to the ground, a bullet lodged in his chest.

Buck had remained standing in the street, prepared to face the consequences of his actions. He would never forget the look on Teaspoon's face as he walked towards him. At first it was one of disbelief but turned to one that Buck could only describe as infuriation. There was no doubt that the Marshal was disappointed with him and could never condone what he had done. Although Buck had stood and faced the man, who'd been the closest thing to a father he'd ever had, he had been unable to bring himself to speak to Teaspoon. Buck's only regret of the whole terrible episode was the look on Teaspoon's face that day as he told him he'd crossed the line and he'd have to live with it.

And now he was doing just that. It had brought him here - trussed up like a steer, laid out on the hard, cold ground, gagged and unable to move, at the mercy of a crazy bounty hunter. Teaspoon had warned him if you ever crossed the line you'd end up paying for it, even if it took a while it would eventually happen. If this was the price he had to pay for getting revenge for Ike's murder then he thought it was a price he was willing to pay for the sake of the memory of his friend. He clung to that memory to help him through the long, cold arduous night.