Blogtober 2020 Day 19 Entry
Storm drove the wagon north. Two braves sat in the back appearing to guard Phin and Murphy, but in reality, it was they who had started training their new friends in the ways of the Wazhazhe men.
The posse had agreed to one day for the boys to say goodbye to the people and prepare themselves for the trial that awaited them. Storm knew the place along the border where the posse agreed to wait. The journey took the better part of the daylight.
The boys saw the outline of the church long before they arrived. From their vantage, the angle of the roof and the steeple made it look more like a gallows than a church.
It was as abandoned as the farmhouse where the Swede’s amputation was executed, and Phin felt a similar sense of hopeless desolation. Murphy kept his hand below his chin, idly rolling the beads of his necklace and thinking about each day with the Osage.
The posse matched their number, with the lead deputy driving the wagon, his subordinates armed with shotguns. The Osage men helped the boys out of the wagon and led them to the lawmen. Phin and Murphy were shackled with wrist and ankle irons and shoved into the wagon. It was not their first time.
The deputy nodded in acknowledgment to Storm for keeping his word. The Osage elder held no illusions that the deputy would have kept a similar promise. White promises were like the dew, evaporating by midday.
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