with Indians?"

"Oh, we rode maybe an hour up along the river. It was full dark then,
and they come down off a hill in front of us, a-yelling and screaming."

"A frontal attack, then. If the Indians were planning to ambush you,
what did they gain by sending three men into your camp claiming they
wanted to talk surrender?"

Levi Pope's face seemed to elongate as he contemplated Ford's question.
"I don't rightly know."

"Do you think the Indians are stupid, Mr. Pope?"

"Well, they was stupid to start this war." Levi grinned at Ford, looking
pleased with himself. Auguste heard some appreciative chuckles from the
spectators. He turned and saw Levi Pope's wife, a skinny, pale woman,
frowning at her husband as if his testimony made her angry.

Ford nodded and held off on making his reply while he paced the open
space before the judge's table and let his calm gaze travel over all the
spectators and jurymen. He waited until the hall was quiet.

"Maybe the Indians thought it was a stupid war, too, Mr. Pope. Maybe
that is the real reason Black Hawk sent those three braves to your
camp."

"Objection," called Bennett. "Mr. Ford is just speculating."

Ford said, "Your Honor, the claim by Colonel de Marion and others that
the Indian attempt to make peace, in which Auguste de Marion
participated, was some kind of dastardly trick is, itself, merely
speculation."

Judge Cooper grunted. "Well, let's stick to what people know, not what
they think they know."

"Fine with me, Your Honor," said Ford, "as long as the prosecution is
held to the same standard."

Auguste's belly tightened as he heard Ford speak sharply to the judge.
He'd seen some hope in Cooper. He didn't want him antagonized. Then he
slumped, letting his manacled hands dangle. What difference? He didn't
have a chance anyway.

Ford went back to his seat, smiling grimly at Auguste, and Levi Pope,
looking somewhat puzzled, slouched back to his place among the
spectators. Judge Cooper declared that proceedings were over for the day
and that the defense would call its witnesses tomorrow.

Hopelessly, Auguste stood up and bent over to pick up the iron ball
chained to his leg. Perhaps, he thought, Lynch's law would be better. At
least it would not prolong his suffering, make him relive moment by
moment everything he and those he loved had suffered over the past year.
And sooner or later he was bound to end up in the same place--a grave.

The following day Nicole wa