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our own field force.”
    Durrant’s face registered astonishment at the story. “Does any man here know the name of the father? It wasn’t this man in irons, this Terrance La Biche?” The men shook their heads.
    Saul Armatage spoke. “His name was Lambert. Jacques Lambert. I too have heard this story, and I can tell by your tone of voice, Sergeant, where this is going.”
    â€œIndeed,” said Durrant. “It troubles me that the dead man, Wake, may have brought this trouble on himself through his actions at Dumont’s Crossing. If this story was so well known, why wasn’t he arrested?”
    â€œDon’t be so incredulous, Durrant. It’s not so strange, is it?” asked Provost. “There was a lot of looting happening along the trail up from the Qu’Appelle where we decamped nearly a month and a half ago now. Some of the men took to ransacking the homes and farms of the Métis along the way, looking for food and blankets. After the affair at Fish Creek, I think some of the men bore a grudge. Maybe Mr. Wake was one of them.”
    Durrant watched his old friend. “Tommy, you and I have a long history. We rode west together in ’74. We served together at Walsh. I owe you my life. We’ve both been lawmen for more than a decade now, though I suppose each of us has been sidelined in his own way these last few years. I can tell you that a man who has his way with a girl in this manner isn’t exacting revenge. This isn’t some passing fancy that he up and decides to undertake: it’s bred in his bones and he’s just looking for the excuse.” Durrant paused and let that settle in. “So the gossip is that Reuben Wake had his way with a Métis woman as his revenge for the killing at Fish Creek—”
    â€œNot so much a woman as a young girl.” Provost looked at his boots. “Story is that she was just thirteen. That’s all I’ve heard of it. Rumour spreads like wildfire on the prairie, and it may be that this story got to the ears of the girl’s pappy.”
    â€œThe man you have in custody has no relation to this girl?” asked Durrant.
    â€œNot that any can tell,” Provost said. “I’ve not spoken to the man, and likely won’t get the chance,” and by that Durrant knew he meant he didn’t want to. “From what I understand, and again this is just hearsay, he hasn’t said a word by way of confession. He was found in possession of Wake’s pistol, and two cartridges fired from it. One of them is in Wake’s brain.”
    â€œSo we don’t know what this man La Biche’s motive might have been?”
    Provost shook his head.
    â€œWhat else do we know of Reuben Wake?” asked Durrant.
    â€œThat’s all we know.” Provost looked at Durrant across the lick of flames.
    â€œWell, as we can’t ask the corpse himself, I suppose we’ll have to ask others this question and see what answers might arise.” Durrant stood with some difficulty and took up his crutch and his rifle.
    â€œMight as well leave it alone,” another man cautioned. “Dead is dead and all the questions in the world ain’t going to bring this fellow back to the living.”
    â€œYou might be right. From what you chaps tell me, there may have been more than one who wanted Reuben Wake dead, and if that’s the case, then Mr. La Biche may face the gallows for a crime he didn’t commit. That doesn’t sit well with me, and I hope it doesn’t sit right with you, Staff Sergeant.” Durrant was looking now at Tommy Provost.
    â€œIt doesn’t, but I don’t think you or I will get much say in the matter.”
    The rest of the circle was silent. Durrant looked at Saul and signalled with a nod that he wanted a word. The two men stepped away from the fire and into the icy night air. “What do you make of this, Saul?”
    â€œIt’s too