The Last Mission Of The Seventh Cavalry. Charley Brindley

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      “Wait a minute,” Karina said. “Linear B was never a spoken language. It was an ancient form of written Greek.”

      “You mean,” Kawalski said, “they’re not speaking modern Greek?”

      “Yes,” Spiros said. “Do you remember, in high school, reading the Canterbury Tales and some of it was written in Middle English?”

      “Yeah,” Alexander said.

      “If someone spoke to you in Old English, you would have a hard time making it out, but some of the words are the same as they are now. That’s what I’m hearing, some Greek words I understand, but many that are ancient Greek.”

      The woman with brown hair touched Spiros’s arm and asked a question.

      Spiros looked surprised, then shook his head. “No.”

      “What did she say?” Alexander asked.

      “She asked if we’re Romans.”

      Chapter Six

      “Get the Apache,” Kawalski said. “She can talk Native American to them.”

      “You know what, Kawalski?” Alexander said.

      “Yeah, I know. Shut the fuck up.”

      “Occasionally, Kawalski,” Alexander said, “you have a spark of brilliance.” He spoke into his mic, “Private Autumn Eaglemoon, front and center.”

      Autumn jogged up to where Alexander and the others stood facing the two women. “If they don’t understand English, Sarge, they sure as hell won’t understand Apache.” She’d been listening to the conversation on her comm.

      “No,” Alexander said. “But at Kawalski’s birthday party, they played ‘Born This Way,’ and you got up and did the song in sign language.”

      “Yeah, but I was just about two-thirds drunk at the time.” She looked at the two women. “I can’t talk to these people in sign language.” She looked at Alexander. “Unless you got a bottle of firewater tucked away in your backpack.”

      “Just try it, Eaglemoon. If it doesn’t work, we’ll try something else.”

      “All right, you’re the boss.” She handed her rifle to Alexander and dropped her backpack on the ground. “Since you ain’t got no alcohol, I’ll just have to wing it. Now, let me see.” She made a hand motion, indicating all the troops in her platoon. “We,” she joined her hands in a bird-like shape and fluttered them in the air, “flew high in the sky.” She raised her hands above her head and cupped them into parachute shapes, then floated them down. “We jumped from our plane and floated down to the ground.”

      The two women intently watched Autumn’s hand and body motions. The brown-haired one seemed mystified, but the blonde came over to Autumn. She touched her arm, said some words, and pointed to a crow flying above. She repeated Autumn’s sign language and finished with a questioning look, as if asking if that was correct.

      “Yes,” Autumn said. “And now,” she raised her arms and held out her hands, palm up, while shrugging and looking about, as if searching for something, “we are lost.”

      The blonde stared at Autumn for a moment, then made the motion to include everyone in the platoon. “Ve are vost?” She said and repeated Autumn’s signs for being lost.

      Autumn nodded.

      The blonde shook her head, reached for Autumn, and put an arm around her shoulders. She spoke some words and backed away, keeping her hand on Autumn’s arm. She made the motion for all of Alexander’s soldiers, then the same motion indicating all of her people as she spoke some words.

      Autumn interpreted what she thought the woman was saying, “Your platoon and my people…”

      She made a gathering motion toward the platoon.

      “No, wait,” Autumn said. “She means her people are gathering our people…”

      The woman spoke and pointed to her eye, then at the platoon.

      The blonde woman and Autumn exchanged more hand signs, but Autumn wasn’t speaking aloud; just watching and responding with her hands.

      After a moment, Autumn reached for the woman’s hand. “Autumn,” she said, putting her hand to her chest.

      “Autumn?” the blonde asked.

      “Yes.”

      “Autumn.” She put her hand to her own chest. “Tin Tin Ban Sunia.”

      “Tin Tin Ban Sunia. What a beautiful name.”

      Tin Tin Ban Sunia led Autumn to the other woman. “Liada,” she said as she put the two women’s hands together. “Autumn,” she said to Liada.

      “Liada,” Autumn said. “I am so glad to meet you.”

      The three women walked together toward the horses, away from the platoon.

      Liada smiled. “Autumn.” She spoke some other words.

      Autumn touched Tin Tin’s cheek. “That’s not a tattoo.”

      “What is it?” Kawalski asked on the comm.

      “It’s scarred over, and it looks very much like a brand.”

      “She was branded?” Kawalski asked. “Like a cow?”

      “Yes, and from the looks of the scar, it was done a long time ago. It’s like a pitchfork, with a snake winding around the shaft. Then there’s an arrow going across the shaft.”

      Tin Tin smiled and reached to turn Liada’s face to the side.

      “Liada has one just like it,” Autumn said. “They were both branded when they were children.”

      Tin Tin spoke to Liada while using sign language for Autumn’s benefit. She motioned toward the platoon and touched Autumn’s shoulder. Liada pointed toward Alexander. All three looked at him. They were about thirty yards away. As Alexander squirmed under their gaze and shifted Autumn’s rifle to his other hand, Kawalski laughed.

      “Knock it off, Kawalski,” Alexander said.

      “Right, Sarge.” Kawalski grinned.

      “He is Alexander,” Autumn said to Liada.

      “Alder…” Liada said. “Alexder?”

      “Yeah, that’s a hard one. Just call him ‘Sarge.’” She smiled. “Sarge.”

      “Sarge?” Liada asked.

      “Yes, his name is ‘Sarge.’”

      Tin Tin and Liada spoke to each other for a moment, repeating the СКАЧАТЬ