Glory's Guidons (The Long-Knives US Cavalry Western Book 3) Read online

“You mean when we have a fight, don’t you?”

  “I suppose I do,” Delaney allowed. He turned toward the troops, shouting, “Sergeant Wheatfall, form the company!”

  As soon as the cavalrymen were ready, Delaney mounted his own horse, and galloped to the head of the freshly formed column. “L Company!” he called out. “We have come a long way on a tedious and dangerous patrol, but it will all be worth it when we accomplish our mission. In the next few days we shall wrap up this situation and return to Fort Proviso with another success chalked up. In the meantime, I want you to obey orders, ride hard and shoot straight when the time comes. I know you will.” He waved as the troopers cheered.

  “Forward, yo-o-oh!”

  ~*~

  It took a day and a half for L Company to reach the Rio Grande River. They splashed their way cross into Mexico an hour after dawn the next day. Delaney ordered Pepperdine, Rivers and Wheatfall to carry out a careful reconnaissance of the area to their direct front.

  The trio returned within a half hour. The scouting foray revealed that Running Horse’s band was camped in a valley within five miles. The site loped down to form a deep bowl. A once raging river had carved the depression through eons of relentlessly wearing at the terrain. A small bluff some fifty feet in height rose above the area. The Comanches had pitched their camp in the shelter afforded them below it.

  “Their backs are literally to the wall,” Pepperdine reported with a smug grin.

  Rivers spat a stream of tobacco juice. “It’s is as safe a place as any on God’s green earth.” He paused and winked. “That’s providing nobody’s looking for you. And that’s where we had ’em by the shorthairs. Running Horse didn’t figger we’d cross into Mexico.” He spat again. “And neither did I!”

  “I made a sketch of their camp, sir,” Pepperdine said, handing it to the captain.

  “Well, done, Mister!” Delaney exclaimed “And it’s for certain they’re not expecting us.”

  “Hell, they ain’t expecting nobody a’tall,” Rivers said. “Them Injuns ain’t even got any lookouts posted.”

  Delaney began studying the diagram. “This is just what we need.”

  “We have them cornered, sir,” Pepperdine stated.

  “It’s not quite so simple,” Delaney said. “We might pin them down for a time, but without reinforcements we could never lay a lengthy enough siege to starve them out or force them to surrender.”

  “That only leaves us one other course to follow,” Pepperdine replied. “To simply charge in there and depend on surprise to overwhelm them.”

  “That’s it,” Delaney said.

  “Yes, sir. But isn’t that risky?”

  “It sure as hell is, Mr. Pepperdine. All our fortunes ride on complete surprise and entrapment.”

  “Yes, sir,” Pepperdine said. “Orders, Sir?”

  “I’ll form up the company for the attack. We’ll either smash that bunch once and for all or our carcasses will be spread out between here and that bluff. Carry on, Mr. Pepperdine.”

  ~*~

  The company was formed into two echelons. The men’s impatience and readiness seemed to have been transmitted to the trained army horses who stomped their hooves in restless anticipation of the action to come.

  Pepperdine positioned himself next to Delaney. “It would appear we are ready, sir.”

  “Right,” the captain agreed. “How much time do you estimate the company will be in open country before closing with the enemy?”

  “Probably a good sixty seconds, Sir.”

  “That will be a full minute of enduring aimed fire without being able to effectively reply with our own arms,” Delaney said. “You know, Mr. Pepperdine, there are certain aspects of soldiering that simply scare the living hell out of me.”

  “I am learning that fast, sir,” Pepperdine said.

  Delaney turned to the company. “Forward, at a walk, yo-o-oh!”

  L Company moved forward in two lines abreast. The sergeants had ordered carbines drawn from saddle boots and the men gripped their weapons, anticipating what was to come.

  They reached Rivers and Wheatfall who were mounted and waiting up ahead. Delaney nodded to them. “Bugler! Sound Charge!”

  The quick impatient notes of the instrument blared out in a quick staccato and “L” Company leaped forward as if one man. They topped the ridge and charged down the long slope toward the Indian encampment.

  They began drawing fire immediately as the hostiles leaped into action. Pepperdine, who had been given the command of the second echelon, was not catching much fire. But he sighted a group of Comanches breaking away from the camp and swinging out to hit their flanks. Then his attention was distracted by a man ahead of him slipping from the saddle.

  It was Corporal Jones who had received a wound in the leg. The impact of the bullet had knocked him at a crazy angle in the saddle and he had lost his balance. Pepperdine knew the approaching Indians would make short work of the NCO if they caught him in the open. He reined up to help the injured man up behind him. Jones grasped his waist tightly, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

  “Hang on, Corporal,” Pepperdine yelled.

  “Oh, sweet Lord,” Jones said aloud. His grip grew weaker as the horse they shared struggled on under the unaccustomed double weight.

  “Grab tighter,” Pepperdine urged his passenger. But Jones kept slipping more. Then both he and Pepperdine fell from the saddle and slammed into the hard, dry earth. The horse galloped off after his fellows who were now charging into the enemy camp.

  Pepperdine had to shake himself clear of Jones who was still hanging onto his waist. He examined the corporal and found him going into shock. The NCO’s skin was damp and cold, and he was close to unconsciousness. Pepperdine inspected the man’s wound. A heavy caliber slug had slammed into the thigh but had not broken the bone. The young officer now appreciated the pain Jones must have felt while trying to ride behind him on the horse’s rump.

  He suddenly remembered the Indians attempting to outflank them and looked up to spot the hostiles bearing down on him and his wounded companion. He noticed a rocky outcrop and dragged Jones, who was now mumbling incoherently, over to the cover. He dropped his burden in time to raise his carbine and fire at the closest warrior riding at them. The brave pitched backward off his horse.

  A second attacker swept by, but Pepperdine’s shot missed. The third dove off his pony straight into Pepperdine’s torso. Both men went to the ground and managed to get to their feet at the same time. Pepperdine noticed to his horror that his carbine had been knocked some distance away. Without thinking, he assumed the proper boxing stance as taught at the military academy gymnasium.

  The young Indian, though not familiar with the Marquis of Queensbury’s Rules, understood it as a challenge and accepted with a wild yell. The white man, stiff as a board with his left fist extended, warily faced his opponent as the savage circled, feinted and looked for an opening. The warrior finally saw what he was looking for and flashed under Pepperdine’s guard. Once again, the two young antagonists were on the ground punching and clawing at each other in a mounting rage. Pepperdine, raised in the manner of clean fighting, forgot his upbringing and fought as dirty a fight as could have been seen on any Saturday on the Bowery.

  They broke clear several times, but the love of combat was so intensified in each youth that they closed again inflicting deep scratches and bruises on each other. The Indian was heavier and a much better wrestler. This, in the end, proved his undoing as his exuberance got the best of him. He gave the skinny Pepperdine such a toss that the officer flew a distance in the air and rolled over several times. When he regained his feet, he was surprised to find that he had drawn his revolver.

  The Indian stood still, stoically accepting the fate he now expected.

  The youthful officer stared at the hostile and brought the pistol up and aimed carefully. Then he suddenly yelled out and ran forward hitting the Indian on the shoulder with his free hand.

 
The Indian understood. Pepperdine had counted coup on him. He turned and raced to where his pony had stopped. He leaped on his steed’s back and turned to face Pepperdine. He raised his hand, then wheeled and galloped off.

  Pepperdine looked around to see how the fighting situation was developing and only then did he notice the shooting had died down. He saw a figure riding toward him from the camp leading a horse. It was Sergeant Wheatfall.

  “We got ’em, Lieutenant,” Wheatfall said handing the reins of his retrieved mount to him. “And Cap’n Delaney’s all powerful pleased with you.”

  “I doubt if he will tell me so,” Pepperdine said. He indicated Jones lying in the rocks where he had left him. “We have a wounded man to take care of here.”

  “I’ll see to him, Lieutenant,” Wheatfall said. “You’d best get up there with the Cap’n.”

  “Right, Sergeant,” Pepperdine agreed.

  He mounted and rode off toward the encampment. The ground where the cavalry charge had collided with the defenders was badly chewed up. Several dead Indians lay scattered within the small area.

  Pepperdine looked down at the casualties as he walked his horse among them. There were also the blue-clad bodies of five troopers yet to be retrieved. The company’s wounded had already been taken to a more comfortable area.

  Delaney took Pepperdine’s salute. “That was the end of Running Horse too.”

  “A prisoner?” Pepperdine asked.

  “Afraid not,” Delaney said. “He’s lying over by the bluff. But we broke up the effectiveness of his band. The escapees will probably wander back to Fort Proviso now.”

  “Sure they will,” Jim Rivers said joining them. “And they’ll stay there ’til they’re mistreated enough to get their warpaint out and this fiasco’ll start up all over again.”

  Delaney turned to Pepperdine. “You’ll be getting a letter of commendation from your commanding officer.”

  “From you, sir?” Pepperdine asked. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “It will be something to show your staff cronies when you’re back in Washington getting fat from sitting long hours at a desk,” Delaney said.

  “Captain Delaney, you don’t understand. I am not—“

  “That’ll be enough, Mr. Pepperdine. Let’s get to organizing things around here. We have to report to Department Headquarters in Austin as soon as possible.”

  “All right, sir.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  A week later L Company was bivouacked on the outskirts of the city of Austin where headquarters for the Military Department of Texas was located. The wounded had been in good enough shape to travel with the unit although a travois had to be set to transport Corporal Jones. Any rejoicing at this good luck had been dampened by the funeral services for their five comrades who had been killed in the battle.

  Delaney and Pepperdine both cleaned themselves up as best they could. The officers’ spare uniforms were given a vigorous brushing by the bugler while their boots were polished and buffed to a high shine by one of the troopers, who claimed boot-blacking as a former profession.

  Rivers was amused by their efforts. Still unwashed and wearing his trail clothes, he sat cross-legged on the ground, enjoying a chaw. “You two fellers is a couple of reg’lar dudes now, ain’t you,” he said spitting. “I’m powerful glad I’m a civilian and can just lay here without having to impress some gold-braided jasper.”

  Pepperdine and Delaney both grinned as they buckled their belts and helped each other get rid of the persistent specks of dirt and mud that still stuck to their uniforms.

  Thus straightened up and squared away as best they could do in a camp, the two officers rode into Austin and presented themselves at Department Headquarters located between the courthouse and the post office.

  A corporal escorted them down the hallway of the large building, stopping at an office door. He knocked twice and stepped back. Pepperdine and Delaney stepped passed him and went inside to find themselves facing a dour major.

  “Captain Delaney and Lieutenant Pepperdine reporting, sir,” the captain said.

  The major returned the salute. “Is that your report under your arm?”

  “Yes, sir,” Delaney answered.

  “Let’s have it.” The major took the papers, but before unfolding them he glared at the visitors. “We’ve already received a prior communication regarding your late activities, Captain.”

  “I’m rather surprised to hear that, sir,” Delaney said.

  “Would you be rather surprised that this intelligence came from a member of the Texas state legislature?”

  “Yes, sir,” Delaney replied.

  “I see. Then allow me to fill you in on all the interesting details, Captain. This man, who is of no small importance both locally and in Washington has informed us he had received a telegram from the Mexican government protesting that you took your command crossed the border into the Republic of Mexico. You are aware that Mexico is a sovereign nation, are you not?”

  “Yes, sir,” Delaney answered.

  “The fact, as you yourself have just substantiated, is that you violated international law by entering that country on a military mission.”

  The major displayed his undiminished annoyance with another hard glare, then turned his attention to the report. He read slowly, mumbling aloud now and then. “Mmm, a couple of commas out of place . . . should have used farther rather than further . . . misspelled reconnaissance . . . “ He continued reading until finished without further remarks. Then he dropped the paper on his desk. “I’m rather surprised that you admit going into Mexico.”

  “Those are the facts, sir,” Delaney admitted.

  “I could begin the process of having you court-martialed,” the major said. “But I won’t. So you needn’t worry, Captain Delaney. It would take a great deal of effort and time. And it wouldn’t be worth it. You’re obviously unaware, but your name has been placed on the retirement list. The War Department sent this information out a few days ago. So, within a month your days in the army will be over.”

  Pepperdine noticed only a slight buckling of his commander’s knees at the news. Delaney cleared his throat, his voice was calm. “That’s quite a surprise.”

  “Evidently it was overdue,” the major said. “Your last mission was a fiasco, Captain.”

  “I felt it was accomplished, sir,” Delaney countered.

  “I can hardly think you can justify such an absurd statement,” the major said.

  “The hostile leader Running Horse, along with many of his best braves, has been killed. His band is broken up and heading back to the Fort Proviso Agency now. I feel my actions and those of my men have halted a threat to the peace and stability of the frontier.”

  “Nonsense!” the major said. “And to make matters worse, you took an extraordinary amount of time to defeat that band of redskins. If you’d hurried things up, you wouldn’t have had to go into Mexico in the first place.”

  “The Indians had a hostage,” Delaney explained. “She was a young woman and we met with Running Horse to obtain her release. He demanded we wait for three days and he would leave her on the Nueces River at a particular spot. My civilian scout knew the area and would be able to find it.”

  “Three days!” the major exclaimed. “You should have renewed your pursuit immediately.”

  “Then the Comanches would have killed her, sir,” Delaney said. “We found her where they promised to leave her. At that point we couldn’t take her with us, so we had to take a side trip to the nearest town. We left her with the mayor who promised to see she would be taken care of.”

  “More wasted time,” the major said. “I shall write my own endorsement on your report and forward it to the department commander. You are dismissed.”

  Delaney and Pepperdine saluted, then left the room to retrace their steps down the hall to the door. Once outside Pepperdine gave vent to his rage.

  “God damn it!”

  Delaney smiled. “Why, Mr. Pepperdine!
You actually cursed!”

  “I could never have imagined such injustice and stupidity existed,” Pepperdine said. “I am also at a loss as to why he didn’t threaten to court-martial me.”

  “I’m sure he and his superiors are well aware who your uncle is, Mr. Pepperdine,” Delaney said. “Your family situation helped me too. They can’t court-martial me without getting you into the stew too as well.”

  Pepperdine smiled. “I’m glad you received some benefit, sr.”

  “And they are cognizant of the fact you’ll undoubtedly soon be adorning some War Department desk in a position where you could easily inflict great harm to their careers. No, Mr. Pepperdine, they will not trifle with the likes of you.”

  “Captain Delaney, once and for all I could like—“

  “Ambrose!”

  The unexpected female voice startled them. They turned to see an attractive, middle-aged lady walking toward them. Delaney’s face winced slightly from some deep, inner pain. He started to speak, but caught himself. He smiled slightly and took the woman’s hand. “Hello, Matty. I’m so . . . well, very surprised to see you.”

  “Dexter and I moved here from Saint Louis five years ago,” she said. “And I’m just as surprised to find you here.”

  Delaney suddenly remembered his subordinate beside him. “May I present Lieutenant Brad Pepperdine. Mr. Pepperdine, this is Mrs. Parnell.”

  “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am,” Pepperdine said.

  “Likewise, Lieutenant,” Mrs. Parnell replied. “You must come visit us, Ambrose. I’m sure Dexter would be so pleased to see you again. And you too, Lieutenant Pepperdine. Why don’t the two of you dine with us tonight?”

  “If it’s no inconvenience, ma’am, I’d be delighted,” Pepperdine said.

  Delaney relented with sagging shoulders. “Of course, thank you for asking, Matty.”

  “Seven-thirty then?” Mrs. Parnell asked. “Good. Ask anyone for the Parnell house. I must hurry now. Very pleased to have met you, Lieutenant. And so good to have seen you again, Ambrose.”

  “Yes, Matty. Goodbye.”

  They watched her walk down the street. Pepperdine looked at Delaney. “An old friend of yours, sir?”