Fifty yards along the line, a private stared in disbelief at the arrow sprouting from his chest. He fell forward, his weight snapping the shaft in two. Galvanized by the prospect of further arrows raining down, his companions immediately loosed off their muskets.

The shots were met with more derisory whoops.

“I said cease firing, damn it!” The sergeant caught Quade’s eye. “Savages are taunting us, sir.”

That they were, Quade thought, and wondered how many guns were deployed among the trees. The ambush had been typical of the hit-and-run tactics perfected by irregulars. On this occasion it had also served to lure the column into a counter-attack which had led to the second ambush. It had been a well thought out move. Quade chided himself for not anticipating it. Men had died because he’d been slow on the uptake. It wouldn’t happen again.

He looked up. It might have been his imagination but it appeared that the fog was starting to thin. A dull light was permeating through the trees, turning the snow from grey to white. Dawn wasn’t that far off. He realized suddenly that there had been no catcalling for a minute or two. He wasn’t sure which was the more terrifying; the catcalls themselves or the silence that preceded them.

He ordered a casualty count. Six confirmed dead and eight wounded. There would be more to come, as those numbers were based on the troopers whose fates had been witnessed by their comrades and on the number of walking wounded who’d made it to the safe side of the bridge. Some bodies were still on the north side of the creek, their condition unknown as they were too far out of reach. Quade bit back an expletive and wondered how many of the wounded were able to walk and, more importantly, fight. Wounded men constituted a greater inconvenience to an army than dead ones because they could slow the rate of the march and it took a disproportionate number of personnel to care for them. Dead men didn’t need tending. They only needed burying.

Not that the number of casualties had depleted the fighting effectiveness of the column to any great degree. Six dead out of more than four hundred, though worrisome, was not a catastrophic loss. The effect the deaths would have on the rest of the troops, however, could not be dismissed. Many would have seen the bodies of their comrades scattered across the snow and, human nature being what it was, they would be wondering who might be next. Such fear could prey on the mind, especially when it involved Indians. The word would be spreading. Were more on the way, coming to reinforce the ambushers?