The Last Mission Of The Seventh Cavalry. Charley Brindley

said.

      “If anyone had stirrups,” Kawalski said, “it should be this guy.”

      A scout came galloping down the trail and turned his horse to come up beside the general. With a flick of his wrist, the general turned his warhorse away from the platoon and listened to the scout’s report as they rode away from Alexander and his people. A moment later, the general gave the scout some instructions and sent him off toward the front.

      The squadron of horsemen with the red capes showed more interest in Alexander and his troops than the other soldiers did. They were young men, early to mid-twenties, well-dressed, and riding fine horses. They weren’t battle-scarred like the other men.

      “They look like a bunch of candy-ass second lieutenants to me.” Lojab spat in the dirt as he watched them.

      “Just like cadets fresh out of the academy,” Autumn said.

      Behind the cadets came another baggage train of large four-wheeled wagons. The first one was loaded with a dozen heavy chests. The others contained bales of furry hides, spare swords, spears, and bundles of arrows, along with many earthen pots the size of small barrels, filled with dried fruit and grains. Four wagons were loaded high with cages containing geese, chickens, and cooing pigeons. The wagons were pulled by teams of four oxen.

      The wagons and carts rode on solid wheels, without spokes.

      After the wagons came more two-wheeled carts, loaded with slabs of meat and other supplies. Twenty carts made up this group, and they were followed by a dozen foot-soldiers carrying swords and spears.

      “Wow, look at that,” Kawalski said.

      The last cart held something familiar.

      “They’ve got our weapons container!” Karina said.

      “Yeah, and the orange parachutes, too,” Kawalski said.

      Alexander glanced at the wagon. “Son-of-a-bitch.” He stepped onto the trail and took hold of the oxen’s harness. “Hold it right there.”

      The woman driving the cart glared at him, then popped her whip, cutting a slit in the camo covering of his helmet.

      “Hey!” Alexander shouted. “Cut that out. I just want our weapons crate.”

      The woman flicked her whip again, and Alexander caught it, wrapping the braided leather around his forearm. He yanked the whip from her hand, then advanced on her.

      “I don’t want to hurt you, lady.” He pointed with the handle of the whip toward the fiberglass container. “I’m just taking what belongs to us.”

      Before he could get to her, six of the men behind the cart drew their swords and came at him. The first one shoved his fist against Alexander’s chest, pushing him backwards. As Alexander stumbled, he heard twelve rifles being cocked. He regained his balance and held up his right hand.

      “Hold your fire!”

      The man who had shoved Alexander now pointed his sword at the sergeant’s throat, apparently unconcerned that he might be cut down by the M-4 rifles. He said a few words and tilted his head to the right. It wasn’t hard to understand his meaning; get away from the cart.

      “All right, all right.” Alexander held up his hands. “I don’t want you people to die over a weapons container.” As he walked back to his soldiers, he wrapped the whip around its handle and shoved it into his hip pocket. “Lower your weapons, damn it. We’re not going to start a war over that stupid box.”

      “But Sarge,” Karina said, “that has all our gear in it.”

      “We’ll get it back later. It doesn’t look like they’ve figured out how to open—”

      A blood-chilling scream came from the other side of the trail as a band of men armed with spears and swords ran from the woods to attack the baggage train.

      “Well,” Lojab said, “this must be Act Two of this never-ending drama.”

      As the attackers began grabbing slabs of meat and jars of grain from the wagons, the woman driver on a wagon pulled her dagger and went for two men who’d climbed into her wagon to take the weapons container. One of the men swung his sword, cutting a deep gash in the woman’s arm. She screamed, switched her knife to her other hand, and lunged at him.

      “Hey!” Kawalski shouted. “That’s real blood!”

      The wagon train’s soldiers ran to join the battle, swinging their swords and yelling. One of the two attackers in the wagon jumped down, pulling the weapons container to the ground. A foot-soldier swung his sword at the man’s head, but the man dodged away, then stepped in, stabbing the soldier in the stomach.

      A hundred more robbers charged in from the woods, and all along the trail, they leapt on the wagons, fought the drivers, and tossed supplies to their comrades on the ground.

      The wagon train’s soldiers ran to attack the robbers, but they were greatly outnumbered.

      A horn sounded three times in rapid succession from somewhere up the trail.

      The robber in the last wagon had knocked the woman to the floor of the vehicle, and now he raised his sword and gripped it with both hands, preparing to run it through her heart.

      Kawalski brought up his rifle and fired twice. The man in the wagon stumbled backward, falling to the ground. His comrade’s eyes darted from the dying man to the woman in the wagon.

      The woman moved like a jungle cat as she snatched her dagger from the bed of the wagon and went for the man. He drew back his sword and began a swing that would cut her legs from beneath her–but Alexander’s pistol slug hit him in the chest, knocking him sideways and over the weapons crate.

      An arrow zinged through the air, passing just inches away from Alexander’s head. He jerked his head around to see the arrow hit a foot-soldier in the throat.

      “Spread out!” Alexander shouted. “Fire at will!”

      The platoon ran along the trail and between the wagons, firing their rifles and sidearms. It wasn’t difficult to distinguish the foot-soldiers from the attackers; the robbers wore ragged animal hides for clothing, and their hair was shaggy and unkempt.

      “Lojab!” Karina shouted. “Bandits on your nine. Roll right!”

      Lojab hit the ground as Karina fired over him, hitting one of the attackers in the face, while Lojab took out another one with a bullet to his chest.

      “More coming from the woods!” Sparks yelled.

      A bandit kicked away Lojab’s rifle. He rolled to his back to see a second bandit swinging his sword toward him. He pulled his Yarborough knife and got it up in time to block the sword. The attacker yelled and brought his sword around as the second bandit thrust his sword down, aiming for Lojab’s heart. Lojab rolled as the sword cut into the dirt, then got to his knees and shoved his knife into the man’s groin. He yelled, stumbling backward.

      The remaining bandit swung his sword at Lojab’s head, but Karina had reloaded, and she blew him away with two shots to his chest.

      Lojab leapt on the man he’d stabbed and cut his throat.

      Four more bandits charged in from the trees, yelling and brandishing their spears, running toward Sparks. They were followed by two men armed with bows and arrows.

      Sparks took aim and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. “My rifle’s jammed!”

      “Sparks!” Autumn yelled and tossed her handgun to him. She emptied her rifle magazine, firing on the run. Two of the attackers went down.

      Sparks fired the pistol, taking out the third one.

      Alexander, from fifty yards away, went down on one knee, took careful aim, and fired on the fourth man as he ran toward Sparks. The bandit stumbled, grabbed his side, and hit the ground.

      One of the archers stopped,