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culmination.
    He began to pant in unison with his thrusts, his breath ruffling the curly hair that framed her face, staring intently into the beautiful, empty pools of her eyes. Just able to see her features in the dimness, aware of the creaking of the small bed. Grimly smiling to himself at the thought of Captain Silas Menges out in the hostile night tracking down the Oglala Sioux while his wife was being well-ploughed by Crow. It was an irony that he appreciated, though he doubted whether the Captain would enjoy it.
    With a great panting rush both of them gasped through the finishing tapes together, holding on to each other like drowning animals. As far as Crow was concerned, the enjoyment and sexual release of Angelina was a matter of utterly no interest to him. Women were simply receptacles where he could spend himself when he needed to.
    She had wanted him and in a way he was pleased for her that she'd got what she desired. But if he had finished first that would have been that. She could go away and weep, or touch herself if that was what she wished. But Crow would have done nothing more to help her or to love her.
    Love wasn't a word that had much meaning in the vocabulary of the man called Crow.
* * *
    It over before midnight.
    Crow had no wish to be caught by the premature return of Captain Menges and he had dressed quickly, buckling on the belt with the trailing saber, looking down without speaking at the woman who still lay naked across the bed, face turned up to him, a pale blur in the semi-darkness. He didn't bother to smile at Angelina, knowing that she was far too short-sighted to appreciate it.
    'That was wonderful, Crow, my dear,' she sighed to him, keeping her voice low. He noticed that she had sobered up remarkably quickly and that her self-control was back. Wondering whether it had all been some sort of an act to entertain herself and add a spice to the illicit performance between them. Deciding that he didn't care, anyway.
    'Good. Now I have to go to my quarters.'
    'Of course. Perhaps some other night when Silas is out on one of his damned patrols?'
    'Perhaps.'
    Crow looked down at her. Seeing the jutting breasts, their nipples still tipped with fire. The shadowed curve of her stomach and then the tangled curls above the junction of her thighs. Menges had been right about that in his drunken boasting. Angelina had a wonderful body, with the longest, curliest, pubic hair that Crow had ever seen on any woman. Now it was matted and tangled with their love-making. He felt his lust again, tugging at his loins, and he wondered whether she might be worth the risk on some other night.
    'It was so wonderful, my dearest lover.'
    'Yes.' The monosyllable was flat, utterly lacking many kind of emotion.
    If she was hurt by it, Angelina managed to hide it, stretching like a cat, and letting her fingers dangle across her nude body to touch herself, stroking her breasts and then letting her fingers roam on much lower.
    'I shall treasure this feeling, my hero. To be filled by a real man is to take away for a few precious moments the hatred I feel for Silas with his mean ways and drunken gropings. Your fiery passion had left me quite spent.'
    Crow grinned in the darkness. If she thought that he had showed fiery passion then that was all right with him.
    Showed what Abe said was right about fooling some of the people all the time.
    'I got to go. Thanks, Ma'am,' he said, and ducked to leave the tent, eyes flicking at the night to make sure he wasn't going to be observed. There was nobody in sight.
    Behind him he heard the woman whispering after him.
    'Farewell, Crow. It was marvelous. But now you must go. There is truly a time to love and a time to kill.'
    Crow nodded and left.
    Unaware that by noon on the following day the second part of what she said was going to be coming true.

Chapter Five
    Menges returned just before dawn, bright-eyed with his own success.
    'I seen 'em, gentlemen,' he told Kemp and Crow as they snatched