Agnes and the Renegade (Men of Defiance) Read Online Free PDF

The little room was crowded with white men—soldiers and civilians.
    “We found our man,” one of the white men announced. “Can you confirm he’s the one known as Chayton whose mother was Lucy Burkholder?”
    Chayton looked at Captain Blake. He was known among the Lakȟóta as a dishonest man. He took the best of their provisions for himself and his favorite men. Treasured items among Chayton’s people often showed up in his possession. Anyone who complained or registered an offense against him was beaten—or worse—disappeared.
    Captain Blake reached into his pocket and pulled out a golden locket that had belonged to Chayton’s mother. It had been sacred to her, part of her medicine pouch. Chayton had seen it many times. He looked around at the men in the room, beginning to wonder if this wasn’t a random act of cruelty but something far more sinister.
    The white man took the locket. Opening it, he stared at the tiny images it contained, then at Chayton. He shook his head. “I don’t see it. He looks all Indian to me. However, I’ll take this locket and him and let Mrs. Burkholder sort it out.” The man pulled an envelope out of his pocket and dropped it on the captain’s desk. “Your reward. Mrs. Burkholder thanks you.”
    The men yanked on his rope and started for the door. Chayton dug in his heels. “What is happening?” he asked one of the soldiers who spoke some Lakȟóta .  
    “In English, Chayton. I know you can speak it.”
    Chayton made a face. “I will not speak the language of these pig-eaters. What is happening?”
    “Your grandmother has been looking for you,” the translator said in English so that the others in the room could understand his answer—and the question Chayton had asked. “Be glad someone wants you. She’s your ticket out of here.”
    “My grandmother died many winters ago,” Chayton said, continuing in Lakȟóta .
    “Not your white grandmother.”
    “My mother was Lakȟóta . I am Lakȟóta . I am not leaving my people.”
    The man translated for those in the room. The captain scoffed. “Your people have been given a death sentence. It’s only a matter of time before they starve to death. If you stay here, you’ll not only watch them die, you’ll die with them. Your grandmother is offering you an alternative to such a dire fate.”
    “You say that as if you cared, but we know you steal our provisions and feed us rotten meat.”
    The captain looked at the translator. “What did he say?”
    “Tell him,” Chayton challenged the man.
    “He said he’s not going.”
    “I said,” Chayton switched to English, “that you steal our provisions and feed us spoiled meat and grains thick with worms.”
    The captain’s eyes narrowed. “Get him out of here.” It took three men to pull him out of the office. Even bound, they could not control him. The fight spilled onto the grounds outside. Chayton was handicapped with his hands still tied, but his legs were free. He put up a vicious fight. His people came to his aid. Violence spread into the crowd. Men and women swarmed the white-eyes who’d come for Chayton.  
    Some men retrieved their horses and attempted to grab Chayton’s rope. The crowd grew tighter, closer around him, spooking the horses. They reared up and stomped down, then bucked to clear room. Hooves slashed into the crowd. A mother screamed then started to wail. Others joined her wailing. The horses stepped back and the crowd cleared a little space around the kneeling woman.
    Chayton’s heart stopped. So many had been injured in the melee that the ground drank their blood. He pushed his way through the crowd, moving to kneel next to a woman crouched in the dirt. The little boy she held hung limp and lifeless in her arms. Chayton stared in horror, barely aware of others also wailing, until the whispers that Two Bears, a revered keeper of history, had also died in the crush.
    Chayton’s chief came over to him. Setting a hand on his shoulder,