Chapter 3: Chapter 3: A Fistful of Dynamite
Over the next five days, Heinrich and Sir David planned the attack on the wagon train. Unfortunately, King Skinner was unable to provide them substantial reinforcements. Instead, Maxis was sent along with Sir Hetfield, Edelweiss, Tos-Que, and Sir Hetfield to oversee the operation. Among his companions, Maxis brought with him a small band of thirty Kiowa warriors from the west of Middle Tahl and twenty Cherokee mercenaries from inside the city itself.
It was October 16th, and the wagon train would be passing through Arnestown in two days. Heinrich and his men had marched to Arnestown three days prior and hid themselves in the forest near the city.
Heinrich was in his tent, smoking from a pipe, when Maxis, Tos-Que, Ned Running Fox, the leader of the Cherokee mercenaries, and Long-Rifle, the war chief of the band of Kiowas, all came into his tent.
Heinrich looked over at the men and stood up.
"Ah, hello, Maxis. What do you need?" He asked politely, resting his pipe on a dresser next to his cot.
"William and Ned want to know what the plan of attack is." Maxis replied.
"Did they not attend the briefing?"
"Long-Rifle doesn't know english that well, Ned was asleep."
"Alright, translate this for Long-Rifle: His warriors are to distract the wagon train and lure it into the nearby woods where Ned and his men will be waiting to ambush with my men."
Maxis translated Heinrichs plan for the Kiowa. The chieftain nodded and then uttered something to Maxis.
"What did he say?" Heinrich asked Maxis.
"He wants to know if his people will be getting loot from the wagons." Maxis responded
"Tell him we've already paid them." Heinrich replied, picking up his pipe and smoking it again as the kiowa spoke to Maxis.
"He says his people need food, and they aren't allowed inside settlements, therefore preventing them from buying or trading."
"Tell him his warriors can loot the dead bodies."
Maxis translated for Long-Rifle again.
"He said he wants two bags of loot from the wagons." Maxis said to Heinrich.
"Very well. Two bags of loot and whatever his warriors wish to take off of the dead bodies."
Maxis nodded and walked out of the tent with the other indians. Heinrich sighed as he put out his pipe and began to put his armor on. As he dressed himself, he heard the kiowas and cherokees outside beating their drums and singing their war songs. When he walked out of his tent, he saw the kiowas dancing around a fire, wearing headdresses fashioned from bison hides with horns protruding from the top of the headgear. The warriors' faces were painted vibrantly with blue, yellow, red, black, and white. He watched in awe as the warriors kept dancing, their feet hitting the ground to the beat of the drum as they let out high-pitched war cries and whoops. He noticed Maxis was among the warriors, dancing and whooping with his sword in one hand and a tomahawk in the other. After another minute or so of the song, it was over, and the warriors retrieved their bowls of paint and began to mark their horses with paint to give their steeds special magic in the upcoming battle. Heinrich approached Maxis, who was wearing only buckskin leggings, moccasins, a loincloth and a breastplate made of small bones as well as some jewelry such as a necklace with turquoise, and brass armbands that hugged his biceps.
"Did you bring the dynamite?" Heinrich asked Maxis. The grandmaster turned around and revealed his painted face. It was all black with a single yellow line that went across his face horizontally.
"Yes. Though, you still haven't told me what you need it for." He replied.
"Once your Indians lure them, we'll use the dynamite to blow up any safes. I also heard there's a big armored wagon with some special gun attached to it. We'll need dynamite to fight it."
"Right. See you later then"
Heinrich was off now. He smiled at the warriors as he passed them on his way to his horse. He saw the Cherokee men loading their rifles and painting their faces. They were done with their ceremonies as well and were preparing for battle. The cherokees' clothes were more or less the average white man's clothes, aside from moccasins, some jewelry, and porky roaches that they wore on their heads.
He mounted his horse and soon, all the men came to the front of the camp to follow the general, as they knew it was time.
Heinrich led the men to a treeline and waited just a few miles outside Arnestown for the incoming caravan. Heinrich called for Maxis and the Kiowa warriors to direct them, and Maxis, Long-Rifle, and Tos-Que rode up to the general to speak.
"Go ahead and ride out now with the Kiowa, Maxis." Heinrich said, pointing at a hill in the distance with but a single oak tree growing at the top.
"Lead them up to that hill and then push the wagon train towards us and the Cherokee mercenaries to attack." Heinrich continued.
Maxis nodded and called out to the Kiowa warriors and led them out of the forest and up to the hill where they waited.
After about twenty minutes of waiting, the wagons finally arrived. Maxis saw the incoming caravan and raised his sword in the air before letting out a shrill war cry with the other Kiowa warriors.
The Indians charged down from the hill and began letting arrows loose and throwing lances at the wagoneers. Maxis slashed a wagoneer across the chest with his sword and took out a stick of dynamite from the bandoleer that ran across his chest, lit it, and threw it at a wagon trying to break away from the path the warriors were trying to steer the caravan down. The stick of dynamite exploded and destroyed the wagon and killed the mules pulling it as well as the wagoneer. The explosion sent corn and grain flying into the air from sacks in the wagon.
Soon, the Cherokee mercenaries came rushing out of the treeline and started firing their rifles at the guards and wagoneers, followed by Heinrich and his men as well as Maxis' companions.
After around fifteen minutes of skirmishing, the armored wagon came rolling forward. Its steel was a dark gray, almost black. It was ugly and at the top was a sort of tower with slits cut into it from which two soldiers armed with blunderbusses could fire their weapons from. The vehicle was marked by white Hospitaller crosses and was pulled by four great shire horses.
The two soldiers in the wagon began firing their guns at the Indians, not taking the Middle Tahlean soldiers into account at all. The blunderbusses created hideous wounds in the Kiowas and their horses and would completely obliterate limbs.
Fortunately, the blunderbusses took time to reload, and a Kiowa warrior took advantage of this. The young warrior rode up to the armored wagon and thrusted his lance through a slit, stabbing and killing one of the soldiers.
After killing a few escaping Hospitallers, Maxis quickly rode to the wagon with a lit stick of dynamite in his hand. The soldier in the wagon fired his shotgun at Maxis, but the warrior ducked and slid to the side of his horse so that the spray of pellets missed him. Maxis quickly peaked back up and threw the stick of dynamite through the slit of the wagon's tower.
"Get back!" Maxis yelled, shooing fellow knights and warriors away. The poor soldier in the wagon had just opened the door to flee when the dynamite exploded within the wagon, sending him flying forward several feet and crippling his legs.
The Kiowa warriors finished off the wounded and escaping christians by jumping off of their horses and onto them and beating them with clubs, impaling them from behind with their lances or shooting them from a distance with arrows.
The battle was over, and the Kiowas began dismounting their horses and scalping, looting and mutilating the corpses of the soldiers. Heinrich watched as the warriors cut up and shot arrows into the wagoneers corpses, gagging a bit at the stench of entrails.
Maxis dismounted his horse and knelt before a wagoneers corpse, taking his knife out of its sheath and cutting a chunk of flesh off of the man's arm. Maxis put the chunk in his mouth and ate it, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.
Heinrich witnessed this and approached Maxis.
"Why did you do that?" He asked.
"Eating your enemies' flesh is how Tonkawas get their power. My dad always warned me though, he said only the Tonkawa could eat human flesh without turning. He was only half Tonkawa, i'm even less so." Maxis replied, getting up and wiping the blood off his face.
"Turning?" Heinrich inquired, raising his eyebrow.
"Other people turn into a wendigo. I don't know about the tahkoys or the kongyones, but other Indians do."
"Why are you at risk for turning into a wendigo?"
"Dad was half Kiowa. They didn't believe in that. They thought it was disgusting, and they hated the Tonkawa until Standing Wolf, my father, brought peace to them."
"I see. What is a wendigo, though?"
"For other tribes, cannibalism is shunned, and those who practice it turn into foul, twisted creatures, mere shells of their former selves. They possess humans and drive them to commit evil acts like murder, cannibalism, greed, or the destruction of the environment. We shouldn't have to worry, though, wendigos like the north better."
Heinrich nodded his head as he listened to Maxis. Soon, the two heard some of the men yelling, and they rushed to see what was happening. A Cherokee mercenary and a Kiowa warrior were about to fight to the death. The Kiowa held his tomahawk in one hand and a hide shield in the other. He wore his hair in two braids on either side of his head with leather wrapped around the braids. On his chest was a bone breastplate that he wore over a steel breastplate. The Cherokee clutched a gunstock warclub and a huge knife, about eight inches long. He wore his hair long down to his shoulders, and on his head, he donned a black hat with a wide brim and an eagle feather in the hats band.
"What the hell is happening?" Maxis asked, approaching Sir David.
"I think they're fighting over loot." The knight replied "Not sure though, I don't speak Cherokee or Kiowa."
Maxis groaned and went to separate the two warriors.
"What's happening?" Maxis asked the Kiowa.
"He tried taking Yellow Horn's breastplate off of him." the warrior said, looking at the body of the fallen Kiowa named Yellow Horn. Maxis looked to the Cherokee and approached him.
"Did you try to take that dead warrior's breastplate?" Maxis asked.
"He doesn't need it anymore." The mercenary responded.
The Kiowas and Cherokees clutched their weapons tightly, waiting for either side to make a move.
"Will you give the breastplate back to that warrior?" Maxis asked the mercenary.
"No. He's dead, and he doesn't need it." The Cherokee said firmly.
"Then fight Small Fern for it. If you're going to disrespect his friend, then be prepared to fight." Maxis said bluntly, walking away and waiting for the two warriors to fight. The Cherokee and the Kiowa began to stare each other down while they gripped their weapons tightly. The Kiowa let out a shrill war cry and threw his tomahawk at the Cherokee and rushed forward. The Cherokee jumped away from the hatchet, and it sank into the wood of a wagon behind him. The Cherokee quickly rose to his feet and swung at the Kiowa, but he ducked and rolled past the mercenary, completely dodging the attack. As he rolled past the Cherokee, the Kiowa unsheathed his knife and slashed the thigh of the mercenary, and he fell to his knee. The Kiowa retrieved his tomahawk from the wagon and the Cherokee stood up once again and stood his ground, staying in place with his moccasins planted firmly in the ground as he waited for the warrior to make his move.
The Kiowa circled around the mercenary for a while, trying to figure out how to attack. The mercenary stepped forward and the Kiowa threw his shield down and lunged at the Cherokee with his knife, the Cherokee stepped back and swung his warclub at the warrior but he ducked and hacked into the shoulder of the Cherokee with his tomahawk.
Screaming in pain, blood spurted out of his wound as he swung his club once again to no avail. The Kiowa jumped away and rushed back forward and sunk his knife deep into the gut of the mercenary. The Cherokee gasped and dropped his weapons as the Kiowa removed his knife from him. The warrior stabbed him once more in the chest and finished him off by swinging his tomahawk into the head of the Cherokee.
The Cherokee mercenary fell to the ground, lifeless and limp, and the Kiowa stood above him and gathered his hair in his hand, and scalped the dead indian.
The Kiowa let out a shrill cry of victory and raised the scalp high above his head to show his comrades, who all let out cries and shrieks of support and approval to the young warrior. The Cherokees retrieved the dead body and left, not saying another word.
Maxis looked on with Heinrich, shaking his head and walking away.
"What was that?" Heinrich asked, chasing after Maxis.
"A fight." Maxis responded bluntly.
"Why, I mean. Why did you let them fight?"
"That mercenary was defiling a dead warrior. There was no honor in stealing from a fallen warrior like that, especially from a man like Yellow Horn. If he wanted the breastplate, then he should've asked or traded for it instead of stealing it."
"I see."
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