Brides of the Gauntlet by James Short

Author:James Short [SHORT, JAMES]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-25T22:00:00+00:00

Gauntlet

Morning came with a feeble light and a cold mist hanging in the air like a ragged shroud. Julian was ignored while the squaws busied themselves cooking breakfast. Children raced around the village screaming and laughing. Braves lounged in front of wigwams in perfect ease, wrapped in their blankets and matchcoats, smoking, sharpening lances and knives, or playing with the children. Finally, Long Arrow loomed over Julian and released him from the stakes, saying, “Good morning. I hope you slept well.”

The people were now streaming out of the village, joking and laughing, carrying clubs, birch switches, broken lances, rocks, unstrung bows, rawhide cords to use as whips, hoes, even a shard of glass, and the stock of a broken musket. Julian was led through the milling crowd to the starting point a quarter mile beyond the village gate. As he passed through the crowd, stumbling on his numb feet, some could not resist a poke or a blow. Soon all the villagers from toddlers to an ancient blind man had lined up in a double-file, their weapons raised.

They stopped before the narrow corridor created by the armed villagers. Laying a hand on Julian’s shoulder, Long Arrow said, “I am aware you are planning to force us to hasten your death. That is a waste of effort. Remember, I claim the privilege of choosing your last hour.”

With that, Long Arrow pushed Julian forward and jabbed him in the buttocks with a lance. Julian yelped, lurched between the rows of battering, scourging, and stabbing implements and fell on his face much to the glee of the villagers. Immediately, the blows, prods, and pokes viciously rained on his back, buttocks, and legs. Julian was attempting to get up when a warrior gave him a kick in the stomach and he doubled up and fell again, vomit streaming from his mouth. He had not yet progressed thirty feet. Laughter and cheers rang in his ears while he was flayed and pummeled mercilessly. Blood in his eyes blurred the path before him as he struggled into a crouching position and charged, then immediately slipped and skidded face-first in the mud. Four young men with clubs assailed him now with such fury that Julian imagined his body being beaten into separate parts. He tried willing himself to die. He would have cried or begged but for the mud in his nose and mouth. He could only writhe and squirm forward on his belly.

Abruptly, the blows and laughter stopped. A stronger man would have regretted the cessation because Long Arrow had obviously halted the punishment in order to preserve Julian until the chosen hour. Julian waited for the war sachem’s taunts, and when he heard nothing, lifted his head and surveyed the hostile faces of his tormentors, expecting the onslaught to resume. He then saw the back of a short broad figure standing in front of him with an upraised hand. Black hair fell thick and uncombed over a robe of iridescent wild-turkey feathers. All those in the two lines of the gauntlet had lowered their weapons.

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