The Sacrificed Sabre
Hearing
Hardtack out, Arrow Flies Straight gladly accepts the challenge with a smile. In his heart, he feels he is the chosen warrior, and the man's honor does not allow him to back down. With a few gestures to his tribesmen, a dueling square is made: The majority of the savages spread out to ensquare Hardtack and Arrow Flies Straight, while a few of them flank
Bill Williamson to ensure both that the duel is fair, and that the man does not run away like their other accomplice, Isaac, was instructed to.
Somewhere in the distance, a flock of crows croak. Vultures in the distance fly out in anticipation, making their way to the duel site, as if directed by the expectation of blood and death. Arrow Flies Straight is holding a ceremonial, decorated club in one hand, with a tomahawk that has several bright red feathers tied to it in the other. The imposing Sioux stands in the middle of the dueling square, with wide shoulders, a well-defined, bare chest, and his head slightly lowered. An antithesis to Hardtack's casual anger, who walks in with just the sabre in hand, almost uncaring, save for the white knuckles gripping his sword. Both men know they are entering a private battlefield only one of them is likely to leave; both determined to be the one to walk away.
Arrow's tribesmen begin chanting an encouraging Indian song, encouraging their leader in the fight. Bill Williamson gives it a thought, then himself starts bellowing a savage song of the death of a great leader, who lost a battle with a mountain. A song of arrogance and stupidity, about how a single leader cost his tribe everything. It is however nearly lost in the overbearing chant of fifteen natives chanting an ode to a blood feud, honor, and wild melee.
The chief of the tribe begins the first attack, swinging one weapon after another, but Hardtack skillfully dodges to the side and then back, creating space between the two combatants. The response is immediate and brutal - Hardtack steps forward with a roar worthy of beast, not a man, and slashes Arrow Flies Straight across the chest, giving him a massive wound leading from his left shoulder all the way to the right side of the native's belly. The man is caught offguard by the ferocity of Hardtack's attack and tries to fight back, but misses his retort. In the background, Bill stamps his feet in the rhythm with his death song, continuing to attempt to make his voice be heard in the chants.
For a few moments, the two warriors dance around each other, testing one another's limits with wild swings, stabs and even punches, but nothing seems to connect, until Hardtack draws blood again, but only with a shallow wound on the Sioux leader's forearm. The man opposite him just smirks, and dedicates his full power to another attack with both weapons at once. While Arrow's club is skillfully deflected by Hardtack, the tomahawk connects, inflicting a major wound on his left thigh. Boldened by the wound, the Navy deserter retorts with a much deadlier strike at the Chief's neck, but the man manages to take a step back just in time so that the end of Hardtack's sabre merely singes his neck, resulting in what will probably be a nasty scar, but far from an incapacitating wound.
Recklessly, Arrow Flies Straight again uses both weapons to attack Hardtack, but as he sweats and his own blood makes his hand wet, the ceremonial club slips out of his hand, flying past Hardtack - who skillfully dodges it - and falls into the dirt. The native warrior uses this to his advantage, however, and goes in with the tomahawk, hurting the pale face further. The pain drives Hardtack on, but also reckless - and his next swing with the sabre just barely grazes his opponent. This throws them both off, as the warriors move back and forth and dance together like two wolves fighting for patriarchy, not really wanting to hurt each other too badly out of mutual respect. Finally, Hardtack musters his strength and fury and takes another wild swing at Arrow Flies Straight, cutting his thigh badly.
The savage quickly recovers from the major slash and leaps forward like a panther, burying his tomahawk into Hardtack's collar bone. With his other hand free of the club, Arrow smashes the blunt end, cracking the bone and pushing the weapon down into Hardtack's heart. With the blood still flowing through him from the last few beats fueled by adrenaline, Hardtack lifts his weapon arm high in the air, his teeth gritted, grinding against each other, eyes bulging and narrowed in one, final, push for an attack... but life escapes him, and the decorated sabre slips out of his hands, turns in the air, and buries itself neatly point-end first in the ground. The entire tribe falls silent in awe, as both Arrow Flies Straight and Hardtack fall to their knees, the latter supporting his opponent by the shoulders. A respectful nod is given, as Hardtack manages a few last words.
"True..." Hardtack coughs blood, "Brave..."
There is a moment of silence as the warriors understand each other.
"Never doubt... again."
Once Hardtack closes his eyes, Arrow Flies Straight reaches into the open cavity of his rival's chest and rips his heart out, lifting it up above his head - while still using his free hand to support the defeated warrior from falling. The native leader then bites into Hardtack's heart, and speaks to his warriors:
"Arrow Flies Straight now holds the strength of Jack Costigan the Wild. Forever more."
Gently, he then lays Hardtack's lifeless body onto the grass, and nearly collapses out of exhaustion.
The tribe look warily at Bill and Ewan, but retreat eventually behind their Chief. They all bow their head respectfully to Hardtack's body as they pass him, nodding and giving rites of passage on the way. Eventually, they are all lined up, and one of the younger tribesmen collects Arrow's ceremonial club, returning it to him. Their leader then calls upon one of them, receives a satchel, and walks with it towards Bill.
"Your Champion fought well, and with his blood, paid for all your lives. We go home. I have collected his spirit, here, you receive Jack Costigan's body--"
He passes the satchel to Bill with reverence, and nods.
"For as long as you are honorable warriors, no Coyote might accost you, just show them this artifact."
The satchel holds a golden replica of a human's heart. Bill may estimate it's worth at least
1,600 dollars based on weight alone. Whatever he may say or do, the natives then walk back, wary of their flank, but intent on leaving.
Bill and Ewan are left on the battlefield alone, Hardtack's body surrounded by a pool of blood, his chest wide open. The blood stained sabre stands tall in the ground, a symbol of the man's sacrifice for the group, as surely they would have been robbed of all their possessions at best, if not killed at worst, had Hardtack not chosen the honorable duel. And indeed, the vultures are now circling above the group, as the wind howls as if mourning the death of a warrior, and the silhouettes of the natives disappear beyond the hill . . .
