The Last Mission Of The Seventh Cavalry

“Hey, Sarge,” Kawalski said on the comm. “I need help with this woman’s arm wound.”

“Coming.” Alexander stood and held out his hand to Karina.

She pulled herself up. “I’ll go.” She picked up her rifle and helmet, gave Alexander a quick hug, then ran toward the last wagon.

“I’ve never killed anyone either,” he whispered, “until today.”

“You did good, Sarge,” Private Lorelei Fusilier said on the comm.

“Shit,” Alexander said. “I always forget that damn comm is on.”

“Yeah, Sarge,” Sparks said. “You did us all some good.”

“All right, cut the chatter. We’re in a whole new ballgame now, so let’s check things out very carefully. And stay on your toes. In the heat of battle, we chose sides; now we’ll see if we picked the right one.”

Chapter Four

Karina knelt beside a foot-soldier, working on a bloody gash in his thigh. The sword had gone all the way through, but if she could clean out the wound and stanch the flow of blood, he should recover.

Lying on the ground and propped up on his elbows, the injured man watched her. The other foot-soldiers went about collecting weapons from the battlefield, and she could hear them dispatching the wounded attackers—cutting their throats or running swords through their hearts. It was barbaric, sickening, and it made her angry, but there was nothing she could do about it; so, she just tried to shut out the sounds as she worked.

She finished stitching up the wound and reached for the GelSpray liquid bandage, but before she could apply it to the wound, the man screamed as a sword came down, piercing his heart.

“You stupid son-of-a-bitch!” She jumped to her feet, shoving the foot-soldier away. “You just stabbed one of your own men.”

He stumbled backward but held onto his sword, pulling it from the man’s body. Karina looked down at the man who’d been stabbed; his mouth gaped open, working in a silent, feeble cry for help as his wide eyes stared at the sky. Then his eyes closed and his body went limp.

“I could have saved him, you ignorant fool.”

The soldier laughed and took a step toward her, his bloody sword pointing at her stomach.

“I got a bead on his forehead, Karina,” Kawalski said over the comm. “Just give me the word, and I’ll blow his brains out.”

“I got my sights on his heart,” Joaquin said.

“And I got his jugular vein,” Lorelei Fusilier said.

“No,” Karina said. “This bitch is all mine.”

“Sukal!” a woman shouted from behind Karina.

The man looked past Karina, then back at her, still with that leering grin on his face.

Karina couldn’t see who the woman was—she had to keep her eyes on his. “What happened to your teeth, Sukal?” she asked. “Someone kick them out for you?”

Sukal flourished his sword like a cobra weaving a hypnotic spell in front of its mesmerized victim.

“Unless you want to eat that sword, you better get it out of my face.”

He lunged forward. She ducked, spun around, and hit his wrist with the edge of her hand, shoving his sword aside. Sukal used the momentum of the moving sword to swing it around and bring it back toward her, aiming for her neck.

Karina dropped to the ground, rolled, and scissored his ankles. He fell hard but was quickly on his feet.

She was up, too, taking a defensive stance, ready for his next attack.

He came at her, going for her heart.

She faked to the side, drawing his sword, but switched the opposite way and landed a jab to his eye.

Sukal stumbled but stuck his sword in the dirt to steady himself. He gripped the weapon with both hands, lifted it over his head, and, bellowing like an enraged bull, ran at her.

Karina brought up her left knee and twisted sideways while thrusting her foot forward in a karate kick that landed her size-nine combat boot in his solar plexus.

Sukal doubled over, dropping the sword. He then fell to his knees, clutching his stomach as he tried to force air back into his lungs.

Karina stared at the gasping man for a moment, then looked to see who was behind her. It was the dark-haired woman they’d seen on one of the elephants. She came striding toward Karina and Sukal, obviously very angry, and stopped in front of Sukal, with her feet spread apart and fists on her hips. She spoke rapidly, gesturing toward the dead man. Karina didn’t need an interpreter to know she was chewing Sukal out for killing the wounded man.

Sukal was beginning to breathe again, but he remained on his knees, looking at the ground. He didn’t appear at all repentant; probably just waiting for her to finish yelling at him.

The woman vented her anger, then bent down, grabbed Sukal’s sword, and threw it as far as she could. She added one more insult that ended with a word that sounded like, “Kusbeyaw!” Then she smiled at Karina.

The word might have meant “idiot,” “dumbass,” or “shithead,” but whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t a flattering comment.

“Hello,” Karina said.

The woman said something, and when she realized Karina didn’t understand, she touched two fingers to her lips, then to her breast, and pointed to Karina.

“It’s okay.” Karina watched Sukal slink away. “I got in a good kick on that kusbeyaw.”

The woman chuckled, then began to speak, but she was interrupted by the tall officer, the one with the scarlet cape. He was twenty yards away, and he motioned for the woman to come to him. She touched Karina’s arm, smiled, then went to the officer.

Karina gazed around the battlefield. The wagon train’s soldiers had collected all the weapons and valuables from the attackers. The women and children went about stripping the dead men’s clothing, which didn’t look like much; ragged animal hides for the most part.

“I guess, in this place, everything has some value.”

“It seems so,” Kady said. “Good job on that asshole, Sukal. I never saw anyone so surprised in my life as he was when your foot hit him in the gut.”

“Yeah, that felt good. But if I hadn’t put him down, I think that elephant girl would have. She was pissed.”

“I wonder what she said to you.”

“I think she was trying to say she was sorry for Sukal killing the guy I was working on. The wound was pretty bad, but I think he would have recovered.”

“Ballentine,” Sergeant Alexander said on the comm. “You and Kawalski stand guard on the weapons crate. I’m going to take a walk toward the back of this column to see how much longer it is.”

“Right, Sarge,” Karina said.

Sarge looked at the soldier standing next to him. “Sharakova,” he said, “fall in with me.”

“Copy.” Sharakova swung her rifle over her shoulder.

“Good work on that cretin, Ballentine,” Sarge said. “I hope you never get that mad at me.”

“Hooyah!” Kawalski said. He was echoed by several others.

Chapter Five

After Alexander and Sharakova returned from their walk of inspection, the platoon carried the weapons container into the edge of the woods, where they built two campfires and broke out the MREs.

“While we’re eating,” Alexander said, “keep your helmets on and your weapons handy. Before dark, we’ll set up a perimeter and rotate on guard duty. We’ll do it by twos all night. Now, let’s talk about what we’ve seen and heard today.”

“Who were those people?” Kady asked.

“Which ones?” Alexander asked.

“The attackers.”

“I don’t know who they were,” Autumn said, “but they were vicious.”

“And nasty,” Kady said. “With those bearskin robes, they looked like buffalo dogs.”

“Yeah,” Lori said, “buffalo dogs is about right.”

“Look at that,” Kawalski said. “These people are still going by. How many more are there, Sarge?”

“We walked for about a half-mile,” Alexander said. “Behind this group of men, there’s a huge herd of horses and cattle. Behind that comes the camp followers. There are women, children, old people, and numerous sutlers with their wagons full of wears. Behind them are a lot of ragtag people. It’s like a whole city on the move.”

“I wonder where they’re going,” Kady said.

“It seems to me,” Alexander said, “they’re going in the general direction of that big river we saw. Beyond that, I have no idea.”

“Hey,” Private Lorelei Fusilier said, holding up one of the MRE packaged meals. “Anybody got menu seven?”

“Yeah,” Ransom said. “Meatloaf.”

“You got Butter Buds?”

“Maybe. What you got to trade?”

“Green hot sauce.”

Everyone laughed.

“Good luck trading off that crap,” Karina said.

“You got menu twenty,” Kawalski said, “right, Fusilier?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you got Cherry Blueberry Cobbler.”

“No, I ate that first.”

“Here, Fusilier,” Alexander said, “take my Butter Buds. I hate those things.”

“Thanks, Sarge. You want my green hot sauce?”

“No, you can keep that. Anybody got a guess as to how many soldiers are in this army?”

“Thousands,” Joaquin said.

“I bet there’s more than ten thousand,” Kady said.

“And about thirty elephants.”

Karina had finished her food, and now she tapped away on her iPad.

“Here come the camp followers,” Kawalski said.

As the women and children walked by, many of them spoke to Alexander’s soldiers, and some of the children waved. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, even though they’d probably been walking all day.

The soldiers of the Seventh couldn’t understand the language, but they returned the greetings.

“You know what I think?” Kawalski said.

“What?” Alexander took a bite of SPAM.

“I think news of our defeat of those bandits has spread all the way down the line. Have you noticed how people are smiling and starting to treat us with a little respect?”

“Could be.”

A large four-wheel wagon passed by, with a man and woman sitting on a bundle of hides in the front of the vehicle. Two oxen pulled them along. The woman smiled as she looked at the soldiers, while the man held up his hand in a salute.

Joaquin returned the man’s greeting. “That’s the first fat guy I’ve seen.”

Karina looked up from her iPad. “Yeah, me, too.”

“What are you reading, Karina?” Kady asked.

“My textbooks. I’m working on a degree in pre-veterinary medicine.”

“Are you online?”

“I wish,” Karina said. “I tried to connect again, but there’s no signal. I’ve got all my books on a microchip.”

Two riders came along the trail, from the front of the column. When they saw the platoon, they left the trail and dismounted.

“Hey,” Kawalski said, “it’s the elephant girls.”

Karina put down her iPad and went to greet the two women. Alexander, Kawalski, Lojab, and Kady followed.

The women stood by their horses, holding onto the reins. They seemed hesitant, unsure about how to approach the strangers. Their clothing was similar to the other women on the trail, but the cloth had a finer weave, and the cut was more formfitting. The colors of taupe and fawn, with bits of red trim, looked fresh and lively. Their outfits consisted of short tunics over unfooted Thorsberg trousers, and their leather sandals had beaded tassel embellishments around the ankles.

Karina held her hand out to the brunette. “Hello, it’s good to see you again.”

The woman smiled and took Karina’s hand, then spoke a few words.

Karina shook her head. “I don’t understand your language.”

The blonde said something to Kady.

“Can’t you speak English?” Kady asked.

The other woman spoke again, then the blonde said something.

“You know what they’re doing, Sarge?” Kawalski asked.

“Talking a lot and not saying anything?”

“I think they’re trying out different languages on us.”

“Yeah, well,” Lojab said, “I think they’re idiots. Why can’t they speak English like everyone else?”

“It’s all Greek to me,” Kady said.

Alexander looked at Kady. “You could be right. Hey, Spiros,” he said into his mic.

“Yeah, Sarge?” Private Zorba Spiros said.

“Where are you?”

“I’m right here, at the other campfire.”

“Come up here, on the double.”

Spiros was soon standing beside Alexander. “Wow, they’re hot.”

“You’re Greek, right?” Alexander said.

“My parents are.”

“Try some Greek on these people.”

“I don’t speak it very well.”

“Can you say, ‘Hello, where the hell are we?’”

Spiros spoke two words, paused, looked at the ground, then at the trees. “Um…” he said, then asked a question in Greek.

The two women stared at him for a moment, then looked at each other. The one on the right asked Spiros a question.

“What?” Spiros said, holding out his hands, palms up.

The other woman asked the same question.

“What is it, Spiros?” Alexander asked. “Are they speaking Greek?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s not Greek like I learned. It’s sort of…a different dialect or something.”

The first woman asked another question.

“I think they asked what language I spoke, then she asked if we came from Iberia.”

“Ask her how far we are from Kandahar,” Alexander said.

Spiros asked the question, and the one on the left responded. “She asked, ‘How far to where?’ They never heard of Kandahar.”

The woman said something else.

“Hey…” Spiros stared at the blonde.

“What is it?” Alexander asked.

“I think they’re speaking Linear B.”

“Linear what?”

“Linear B,” Spiros said.

“Wait a minute,” Karina said. “Linear B was never a spoken language. It was an ancient form of written Greek.”

“You mean,” Kawalski said, “they’re not speaking modern Greek?”

“Yes,” Spiros said. “Do you remember, in high school, reading the Canterbury Tales and some of it was written in Middle English?”

“Yeah,” Alexander said.

“If someone spoke to you in Old English, you would have a hard time making it out, but some of the words are the same as they are now. That’s what I’m hearing, some Greek words I understand, but many that are ancient Greek.”

The woman with brown hair touched Spiros’s arm and asked a question.

Spiros looked surprised, then shook his head. “No.”

“What did she say?” Alexander asked.

“She asked if we’re Romans.”

Chapter Six

“Get the Apache,” Kawalski said. “She can talk Native American to them.”

“You know what, Kawalski?” Alexander said.

“Yeah, I know. Shut the fuck up.”

“Occasionally, Kawalski,” Alexander said, “you have a spark of brilliance.” He spoke into his mic, “Private Autumn Eaglemoon, front and center.”

Autumn jogged up to where Alexander and the others stood facing the two women. “If they don’t understand English, Sarge, they sure as hell won’t understand Apache.” She’d been listening to the conversation on her comm.

“No,” Alexander said. “But at Kawalski’s birthday party, they played ‘Born This Way,’ and you got up and did the song in sign language.”

“Yeah, but I was just about two-thirds drunk at the time.” She looked at the two women. “I can’t talk to these people in sign language.” She looked at Alexander. “Unless you got a bottle of firewater tucked away in your backpack.”

“Just try it, Eaglemoon. If it doesn’t work, we’ll try something else.”

“All right, you’re the boss.” She handed her rifle to Alexander and dropped her backpack on the ground. “Since you ain’t got no alcohol, I’ll just have to wing it. Now, let me see.” She made a hand motion, indicating all the troops in her platoon. “We,” she joined her hands in a bird-like shape and fluttered them in the air, “flew high in the sky.” She raised her hands above her head and cupped them into parachute shapes, then floated them down. “We jumped from our plane and floated down to the ground.”

The two women intently watched Autumn’s hand and body motions. The brown-haired one seemed mystified, but the blonde came over to Autumn. She touched her arm, said some words, and pointed to a crow flying above. She repeated Autumn’s sign language and finished with a questioning look, as if asking if that was correct.

“Yes,” Autumn said. “And now,” she raised her arms and held out her hands, palm up, while shrugging and looking about, as if searching for something, “we are lost.”

The blonde stared at Autumn for a moment, then made the motion to include everyone in the platoon. “Ve are vost?” She said and repeated Autumn’s signs for being lost.

Autumn nodded.

The blonde shook her head, reached for Autumn, and put an arm around her shoulders. She spoke some words and backed away, keeping her hand on Autumn’s arm. She made the motion for all of Alexander’s soldiers, then the same motion indicating all of her people as she spoke some words.

Autumn interpreted what she thought the woman was saying, “Your platoon and my people…”

She made a gathering motion toward the platoon.

“No, wait,” Autumn said. “She means her people are gathering our people…”

The woman spoke and pointed to her eye, then at the platoon.

The blonde woman and Autumn exchanged more hand signs, but Autumn wasn’t speaking aloud; just watching and responding with her hands.

After a moment, Autumn reached for the woman’s hand. “Autumn,” she said, putting her hand to her chest.

“Autumn?” the blonde asked.

“Yes.”

“Autumn.” She put her hand to her own chest. “Tin Tin Ban Sunia.”

“Tin Tin Ban Sunia. What a beautiful name.”

Tin Tin Ban Sunia led Autumn to the other woman. “Liada,” she said as she put the two women’s hands together. “Autumn,” she said to Liada.

“Liada,” Autumn said. “I am so glad to meet you.”

The three women walked together toward the horses, away from the platoon.

Liada smiled. “Autumn.” She spoke some other words.

Autumn touched Tin Tin’s cheek. “That’s not a tattoo.”

“What is it?” Kawalski asked on the comm.

“It’s scarred over, and it looks very much like a brand.”

“She was branded?” Kawalski asked. “Like a cow?”

“Yes, and from the looks of the scar, it was done a long time ago. It’s like a pitchfork, with a snake winding around the shaft. Then there’s an arrow going across the shaft.”

Tin Tin smiled and reached to turn Liada’s face to the side.

“Liada has one just like it,” Autumn said. “They were both branded when they were children.”

Tin Tin spoke to Liada while using sign language for Autumn’s benefit. She motioned toward the platoon and touched Autumn’s shoulder. Liada pointed toward Alexander. All three looked at him. They were about thirty yards away. As Alexander squirmed under their gaze and shifted Autumn’s rifle to his other hand, Kawalski laughed.

“Knock it off, Kawalski,” Alexander said.

“Right, Sarge.” Kawalski grinned.

“He is Alexander,” Autumn said to Liada.

“Alder…” Liada said. “Alexder?”

“Yeah, that’s a hard one. Just call him ‘Sarge.’” She smiled. “Sarge.”

“Sarge?” Liada asked.

“Yes, his name is ‘Sarge.’”

Tin Tin and Liada spoke to each other for a moment, repeating the word “Sarge” several times.

Liada tapped Autumn’s helmet with the back of her fingers and raised her shoulders.

“Oh, this thing?” She unbuckled the chinstrap and pulled off her helmet, letting her long black hair fall. She handed it to Liada. “Helmet.”

“Helmet?” Liada took it and looked it over.

Tin Tin reached to touch Autumn’s hair. She smiled and said something as she ran her fingers through the waist-length black strands.

“Thank you,” Autumn said, “but it must be a mess.”

She took a brush from an inside pocket of her jacket, pulled her hair over her shoulder, and began brushing. Tin Tin Ban Sunia was fascinated with the hairbrush. She said something to Liada.

“Oh, God,” Kawalski said on the comm. “Here we go. First the hair, next they’ll talk about makeup. After that, it’ll be the clothes.”

Liada looked at the helmet, cocking her head to the side and wrinkling her brow.

“I think Liada hears us,” Karina said.

Autumn flipped her hair back over her shoulder and handed her brush to Tin Tin, who smiled and tried to brush her hair, but it was too tangled.

“Here,” Autumn said, “let me show you.” She pulled Tin Tin’s hair over her shoulder and began at the ends. Her hair was almost as long as Autumn’s. “You know what? Some women would kill for naturally curly hair.”

Autumn and Tin Tin continued to talk and use hand signs as Autumn brushed Tin Tin’s hair, but the rest of the platoon could no longer hear them.

“I think you’ve lost control of this one, Sarge,” Kawalski said.

Alexander agreed.

Tin Tin motioned toward the platoon and asked a question. Autumn raised her right arm and pointed toward the southeast. She made a rising and falling motion with her hand, like something far away over the hills. She then gave the brush to Tin Tin to free her hands and asked in signs, “What is this place?”

Tin Tin spoke, but the platoon couldn’t hear what she said. Autumn touched the sleeve of Tin Tin’s tunic, feeling the material. Tin Tin asked something about the zipper on Autumn’s camo jacket.

“What’d I tell you?” Kawalski said. “Here we go with the clothing. Lipstick can’t be far behind.”

“Kawalski,” Karina said, “you don’t even know what’s important in life, do you?”

“Well, apparently it’s hair, clothing, and makeup. The Apache seems to have forgotten about ‘Where are we?’, ‘Who are you people?’, and ‘What’s up with all those elephants?’”

Liada lifted the helmet toward her ear, obviously curious. She glanced at Autumn, raising her eyebrows.

“Sure, put it on.” Autumn made a motion toward Liada’s head.

“Hey, Sarge,” Lojab said. “You see that?”

“This should be interesting,” Alexander said.

“Can she hear us?” Sparks asked.

“Sure, if the Apache has the comm on.”

“Hey, babe,” Lojab said.

When half the platoon began talking at once, Liada uttered an exclamation and yanked off the helmet. She looked inside, then around the outside of the helmet, finally handing it to Tin Tin, saying something to her. Tin Tin looked inside but shook her head.

Autumn leaned close to the mic in the helmet. “If you guys are going to talk to the ladies, do it one at a time. Otherwise, you’re scaring the hell out of ’em.” She motioned for Tin Tin to put on the helmet as she flipped Tin Tin’s hair back over her shoulder.

Tin Tin handed the hairbrush to Liada, then carefully slipped on the helmet as she cocked her head to the side and listened. Her eyes widened.

“Sarge?”

“Sarge?” Liada asked as she began brushing her hair as she’d seen Autumn do for Tin Tin.

Tin Tin tapped the side of the helmet, over her right ear. She said something else to Liada, then both of them looked toward Alexander, who smiled and tapped the side of his helmet. Autumn pointed to the tiny mic embedded in the inside edge of the helmet and made a talking motion with her hand.

Tin Tin spoke into the mic. “Tin Tin Ban Sunia.”

“Sarge,” Alexander said.

Tin Tin smiled. “Liada,” she said and pointed to her friend.

“Liada,” Sarge said.

“Autumn,” Tin Tin said.

“Yes, Autumn Eaglemoon.”

“Yes,” Tin Tin repeated. “Autumn Eagle Mon.” She smiled at Autumn.

“Hey, Sarge,” Lojab said. “I saw her first. Let me talk to her.”

Tin Tin looked around for the source of the new voice. Alexander pointed to Lojab.

“Lojab,” he said into his mic.

“Lojab,” Tin Tin said.

“Hi, Tin Tin.” Lojab waved.

She waved and smiled. “Misplace porch mcdongol.”

Lojab laughed. “Misplaced my Porsche.”

“Misplace my porch.”

“Good,” Lojab said.

“Good.”

Liada said something to Tin Tin, who removed the helmet and handed it to Liada. Liada then gave the brush to Tin Tin and put on the helmet.

“Sarge?”

“Liada,” Alexander said.

Lojab walked toward Tin Tin, taking off his helmet. His blond hair was clipped very short. He was a little over six feet tall, with a hard, muscular body. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing a tattoo of Jesus Christ on a Harley adorning his left biceps. Jesus wore a grin, with his halo blowing back in the wind.

“Lojab misplace my porch,” Tin Tin said and laughed.

“You’re a quick learner, Tin Tin.”

Lojab held out his hand to her. She looked at his hand for a moment, then reached to take it, but she seemed more interested in something else. She ran her hand over the top of his head.

“That’s a buzzcut,” Lojab said.

“Buzzcut.” She touched his two-day growth of beard. “Buzzcut?”

“Yeah.” Lojab motioned toward the trees. “You want to take a walk with me?”

“Low Job,” Autumn said, “you butthead. You met her two minutes ago, and already you’re trying to get her into the bushes.”

“Well, what the hell, Apache? If she’s willing…”

“She has no idea what you want to do with her.”

“Then why is she smiling?”

“I don’t know, Low Job,” Autumn said. “Maybe she’s trying to befriend an idiot?”

“As much as I hate to break up this little party,” Alexander said as he walked up to them, “does anyone know where we are?” He pulled off his helmet.

“Sarge,” Tin Tin said. “Helmet?”

“Sure,” Alexander said. “Knock yourself out.”

“Liada?” Tin Tin said into the mic after she put on the helmet.

“Tin Tin,” Liada said. They backed away from each other, still talking and apparently testing the range of the comm system.

“We are in a place called Gaul—” Autumn began.

“Gaul?” Karina said as she came up to them, removing her helmet. “Is that what they said, ‘Gaul?’”

“Yes,” Autumn said.

“Sarge,” Karina said. “Gaul is the ancient name for France.”

“Really?” Alexander said. “What’s the name of that river?”

“I couldn’t figure out how to ask that,” Autumn said, “but I think they’re planning to cross it. And another thing…”

“What?” Alexander asked.

“They have no concept of years, dates, or even hours of the day.”

Alexander watched Tin Tin and Liada behaving like two children with a new toy. “Strange,” he whispered. “And apparently, they’ve never heard of wireless communications either.”