“The defendent shall remain standing—the rest of you may be seated,” the judge went on.  Sully and Matthew stayed on their feet as the group behind them sat down again with a  murmuring rustle, and the usual collection of scattered coughs and clearing of throats.

     A silence fell as Judge Webster pulled a pair of gold spectacles from his breast pocket, perched them on the end of his nose, and began to peruse the stack of papers in front of him.  He picked up the top sheet, and studied it with excrutiating slowness.  Sully waited, his heart hammering against his ribs, and pearls of sweat forming at his hairline and across the back of his neck.

     “Byron Sully,” Judge Webster said suddenly, not bothering to immediately look up.  “You are charged with the murder of Sergeant Bryan O’Conner.  You are further charged with willfully committing treason against the United States Army—by trepassing on the U.S. government property known as Palmer Creek Reservation in direct violation of the orders of General Wooden, and deliberately inciting a revolt on that reservation, resulting in the deaths of two Indians and the escape of several more, as well as the deaths of three army personnel.”  He raised his head and looked at Sully.  “How do you plead?”

     “Your Honor,” Matthew said.  “My client pleads not guilty to the charges of murder and treason.”

     “Very well,” Webster replied, making a notation on the sheet in front of him.

     “Your Honor, may I address the court?” Matthew spoke again.

     The judge glanced at him.  “Your name, for the record?”

     “Matthew Cooper, attorney for Byron Sully.”

     “You will have your opportunity for an opening statement shortly, Mr. Cooper,” the judge advised.

     “Thank you, Your Honor, but this is a motion, not an openin’ statement,” Matthew replied.

     “Very well, Mr. Cooper, you may make your motion, but be brief.”

     “Yes, Your Honor.  Your Honor, I move that the charge of murder against Mr. Sully be dismissed, on the grounds that Mr. Sully was actin’ in self-defense,  and  that there are no witnesses to testify that Mr. Sully deliberately caused the death of Sgt. O’Conner.  In fact, the sergeant’s death was accidental.”

     “If there are no witnesses, Mr. Cooper, how can you prove your assertion of accidental death—or, for that matter—even that Mr. Sully acted in self-defense?”

     “Your Honor, it is a well-known fact that Sergeant O’Conner disliked and resented Mr. Sully from the time Mr. Sully was the Indian agent for Palmer Creek Reservation, and the two men disagreed on the administration of the reservation and Sgt. O’Conner’s harsh treatment of the Indians.  I can produce a number of witnesses who will testify that Sgt. O’Conner tried to thwart Mr. Sully’s humane treatment of the Indians at every opportunity.  On May tenth, the day in question, Sgt. O’Conner ruthlessly went in pursuit of Byron Sully, with the clear intention of harmin’ him—perhaps killin’ him.  Sgt. Terrence McKay, Sgt. O’Conner’s successor at Palmer Creek, can testify to Sgt. O’Conner’s mood that day.  Sgt. McKay himself went after Sgt. O’Conner in the hope of stoppin’ him before he caught up to Mr. Sully.  By the time Sgt. McKay got there, it was too late; however there is ample evidence that a struggle occurred between Mr. Sully and Sgt. O’Conner that caused *both* of them to go over the cliff—not just the sergeant. Sgt. McKay can further testify to findin’ a personal possession of Mr. Sully’s on the rocks in the river—evidence that Mr. Sully also fell.

     “I also have the word of Mr. Sully—who is well-reputed to be an honorable and non-violent man—that Sgt. O’Conner trapped him on the cliff, and that Mr. Sully fought him purely in self-defense.  When Sgt. O’Conner rushed at Mr. Sully in a rage,  the force of his attack drove both men over the cliff.”

     “Mr. Sully seems in remarkably good health now—with the exception of an apparent injury to his arm,” the judge observed.

     “Your Honor, Mr. Sully was extremely fortunate to land in the water, which saved his life—unlike Sgt. O’Conner, whose body unfortunately impacted on the rocks in the river,” Matthew answered blandly.  “As to Mr. Sully’s current injury, he sustained a bullet wound to the shoulder in the act of savin’ Sgt. McKay’s life; when a man named Rider Flagg—who had a vendetta against Byron Sully and his wife, Dr. Michaela Quinn—and who had previously shot Dr. Quinn, nearly causin’ her death—returned to Colorado Springs to make another attempt on Dr. Quinn’s and Mr. Sully’s lives.  Again, Sgt. McKay can testify to the truth of these statements.”

     “You Honor, I strongly object to this motion,” Major Morrison said sharply.  “While Sgt. McKay may have gone in pursuit of Sgt. O’Conner on the day of the revolt, he cannot testify to Sgt. O’Conner’s state of mind—he had no way of knowing whether Sgt. O’Conner intended to kill Mr. Sully—or anything else Sgt. O’Conner was thinking, for that matter.  As to finding a possession of Mr. Sully’s on the rocks—a—“ he glanced down at his notes—“a--*medicine pouch*--that evidence is purely circumstantial.  This item, whatever it is, could have simply fallen over the side in the struggle,” Morrison asserted, making little effort to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.  His derogatory reference to the medicine pouch was clearly calculated to remind everyone in the court of Sully’s sympathy for the Indians.  He went on,  “Just because this pouch fell into the river, there is certainly no proof that Mr. Sully went with it.  As you yourself pointed out, Your Honor, Mr. Sully hardly looks like he suffered the kind of injuries consistent with a fall of that magnitude.”

     “May I remind Major Morrison that it has been more than two months since Mr. Sully’s accident?” Matthew stated.  “More than sufficent time for Mr. Sully to recover from any injuries he may have suffered.  However, with all due respect, Your Honor, the question of whether Mr. Sully was injured is not at issue here.  The only fact of any relevance is that there is no evidence to support the army’s accusation of murder.  However, there is physical evidence, as well as testimony from witnesses regardin’ Sgt. O’Conner’s actions and state of mind  prior to and on the day of the revolt, to strongly indicate that Sgt. O’Conner’s death—while tragic—was accidental.”

     “Will both counsels approach the bench?” Judge Webster requested after a moment.  Matthew and Morrison went up to the desk and leaned forward as the judge spoke to them in a low voice.  First Morrison, then Matthew, replied in equally low tones.  Morrison spoke again, gesticulating as if to make a point.  Sully strained his ears to catch what they were saying, but their comments were inaudible.  The judge directed a remark to Matthew, and sat listening to Matthew’s reply as he tapped his pencil on the desk.  Morrison said something else in a harsh whisper, but Judge Webster was already shaking his head, as if to indicate that the brief discussion was over.

     Matthew and Morrison walked back to their places.  Judge Webster removed his glasses and looked out at the court.

     “We will probably never know all the facts surrounding the death of Sgt. O’Conner,” he began.  “The only person besides Mr. Sully who can testify as to what actually happened is dead.  However, I must concede that Mr. Cooper’s argument is compelling.  Without any physical evidence to support the accusation of murder, and no corroborating testimony from witnesses, I find I have no choice but to grant Mr. Cooper’s motion.  The charge of murder is hereby dropped.”

     Sully’s heart lurched as a babble of reaction immediately erupted from the spectators in the room.  Matthew shot Sully a brief look of triumph, as Major Morrison sat down in disgust.  Sully felt Michaela’s hand squeezing his shoulder, and he turned to give her a quick smile as he reached up to cover her hand with his.

     “Order!” snapped the judge, banging his gavel sharply.  The noise in the courtroom abruptly died down.

     “Your Honor, I would like to state for the record that I strenuously object to the granting of this motion,” said Morrison.

     “So noted, Major,” the judge replied, writing on the paper in front of him.  After a second or two he looked up again.

     “The charge of murder is dropped, but that still leaves the very serious accusation of treason,” he reminded the assemblage.  “I invite Major Morrison and Mr. Cooper to make their opening statements.  We will hear first from Major Morrison.”  He nodded to the presecutor.

     “Thank you, Your Honor,” Morrison replied, rising to his feet.  He came out from behind the prosecutor’s table and walked over to stand near the judge’s bench.

     “In his motion to dimiss the charge of murder, Mr. Cooper spoke of the long-standing acrimony  which existed between Mr. Sully and Sgt. O’Conner, in an attempt to paint Mr. Sully as more of a victim than the deseased,” Morrison began.

     “Your Honor!” Matthew interrupted.  “The defense understands that Major Morrison must be allowed a certain amount of latitude in his opening statement, but I really must object.”

     “Sustained,” the judge replied.  He shot Morrison a warning look.  “Major, that charge is no longer at issue in this trial.  You will not ‘try’ Mr. Sully for murder in this courtroom, and you will refrain from alluding to it.”

     “My apologies, Your Honor.  I simply cited Mr. Cooper’s reference to make a point,” Morrsion replied.

     “Then please make your point with due haste,” the judge directed sternly.

     Morrison nodded to Webster, then turned back to his listeners.  “The prosecution sharply disagrees with Mr. Cooper’s assertion as to who was the real victim in this case.  However, we do wholeheartedly concur that these men—Byron Sully and Sgt. Bryan O’Conner—did clash frequently.  Mr. Cooper indicated that it was Sgt. O’Conner who was the troublemaker, questioning Mr. Sully’s authority and thwarting his efforts to administer affairs on the reservation.

    “However, I would like to suggest to this court that it was precisely the opposite.  That it was, in fact, *Mr. Sully*—who, during his tenure as Indian Agent—consistently abused his authority and flagrantly disregarded the army’s rules and regulations on a regular basis—so much so that he was fired from his post for insubordination by none other than General Wooden himself.”  He moved over to the prosecutor’s table and picked up a sheet of paper.

     “Superintendent Hazen, the District Supervisor for Indian Affairs, unfortunately could not be with us today,” Morrison continued.  “However, I have here his sworn statement attesting to Mr. Sully’s frequent and conspicuous violations of the regulations governing the administration of the reservation.  It’s a long list—so as not to take up too much of the court’s time, I will cite only a few of the most glaring examples.”  He paused, letting his gaze travel across the room.  All eyes were  fastened on him.  Satisfied that he had everyone’s attention, Morrison let his eyes drop back down to the page in his hand.

     “’Failure to acknowledge directives or file quarterly reports,’” he read in a ringing voice that reached to the very rear of the hall.  “Failure to contruct wooden huts to replace teepees.  Failure to contruct a school building after the establishment of a missionary school on the reservation, and—in a  related infraction—failure to ensure that the children attending this school were groomed and dressed according to the guidelines set forth in the Army manual.  Superintendent Hazen also notes that Mr. Sully actually allowed an Indian on the reservation—one—“ he consulted his notes again, “ one ‘Cloud Dancing’—to obstruct the peaceful operation of this school.  Mr. Sully himself was found to be guilty of interfering both in the method of teaching and the curriculum prescribed by the Army--to the point that he had the temerity to close the school.  Superintendent Hazen was forced to intervne, ordering Mr. Sully to reopen the school and correct his other infractions.  Yet the moment the superintendent’s attention was elsewhere, Mr. Sully went back to his old ways.  Mr.  Hazen reports that on a subsequent visit, he observed that there was *still* no school building, and the children—clad in all manner of dress—were receiving their lessons outside, sitting in a circle on the ground!”  Morrison paused again, to allow his words to sink in to those listening.  After a few moments, he resumed.

     “Superintendent Hazen states that Mr. Sully was consistently guilty of allowing the Indians under his charge to set the agenda.  His efforts at maintaining discipline ranged from lax to non-existent.  Mr. Hazen cites an incident in which this same Indian mentioned earlier, Cloud Dancing—known to be a particular friend of Mr. Sully’s—was stabbed by another Indian named Two Spears.   In light of his friendship with Cloud Dancing—who had suffered a life-threatening injury—one would expect Mr. Sully to be enraged by Two Spears’s act, and detemined to bring all the forces of the law to bear upon him.  But not only did Mr. Sully refused to punish Two Spears, or even hold him in confinement—he actually let him go!   Of course, Two Spears made a mockery of Mr. Sully’s naïve and foolhardy attempt to give him a second chance.  Within a day, he was again provoking fights with other Indians and causing so much trouble that Mr. Sully finally was forced to send him away to another reservation.  When Superintendent Hazen questioned Mr. Sully’s leniency with Two Spears, Mr. Sully claimed that the Indians fought because the army soldiers assigned to watch them and keep warring tribes separated, were not ‘doing their job.’”  Morrison stared at the assemblage.  “It was Mr. Sully’s specific request that a new garrison be assigned to the reservation to do do a better job of preventing trouble and keeping the peace.  In good faith, Mr. Hazen complied with Mr. Sully’s request, and sent the garrison, commanded by Sgt. Bryan O’Conner.”

     “Hazen used to tell me he admired how I cared for the Indians,” Sully whispered to Matthew.

     “Yeah, well, so much for him bein’ on your side,” Matthew muttered back.

     “I emphasize again,” Morrison continued, with a steely look at Sully.  “*Mr. Sully himself* asked for  assistance in maintaining order on the reservation—yet in nearly every instance, when Sgt. O’Conner attempted to perform that function,  Mr. Sully consistently obstructed the sergeant’s efforts, disregarding his authority as blatantly as he had disregarded Superintendent Hazen’s.”

     “Your Honor, I must object again,” Matthew spoke up.  “Mr. Sully’s alleged failure to perform his duty as Indian Agent is not on trial here.”

     “Point taken,” Judge Webster agreed.  “Major Morrison, stick to the issue at hand.”

     “With your indulgence, Your Honor, I am doing precisely that.  I am attempting to establish that a pattern of behavior existed in Mr. Sully’s life—one of lies, broken promises, disregard for authority, and insubordination to superiors, all of which led up to his premeditated decision to committ treason.”

     “Very well—I’ll allow it, but please move things along,” said the judge.

     “Yes, Your Honor,” Morrison answered.  He turned back to the court.  “I will prove that not only did Mr. Sully fail to observe accepted rules of conduct in his professional capacity as Indian Agent; but further, that after being fired from his post and being expressly forbidden by General Wooden from going on the reservation—in exchange for his friend Cloud Dancing being transferred from East Fork Reservation to Palmer Creek—Mr. Sully deliberately violated the general’s order—not once, but twice—the second time to incite insurrection.  I also will prove that Mr. Sully’s habit of deception and broken promises extended beyond the reservation, not only to the people of Colorado Springs—but even to his own family!

     “You will hear testimony from a prominent member of this community—Preston Lodge III, the president of the Bank of Colorado—that after he engaged Mr. Sully in good faith to build his home, halfway through the construction Mr. Sully suddenly and inexplicably quit, offering Mr. Lodge no apology and leaving him without recourse.  This, ladies and gentlemen, was *one day* before the revolt at Palmer Creek reservation.”  Sully’s eyes were drawn again to Preston.  The banker was gazing at him with an expression of smug triumph.  As Sully watched, Preston slowly and deliberately winked.

     Morrison went on, “You also will hear from one of the leading merchants in town—Loren Bray, the owner and proprietor of Bray’s Mercantile—“  Loren looked startled, and then guilty, as Dorothy’s eyes—as well as the eyes of Sully’s other family and friends—swung around to him accusingly.  “that on the morning of the revolt, nearly twenty-four hours *after* he quit his position with Mr. Lodge, Mr. Sully visited Bray’s store and purchased several blankets, a variety of supplies, and a *barrel of blasting powder*--claiming that he intended to use it to remove a tree stump on Mr. Lodge’s property that was standing in the way of construction.

     “I will further show, ladies and gentlemen, that my ‘esteemed colleague,’ Matthew Cooper—“ Morrison glanced superciliously at Matthew, “Mr. Sully’s *own stepson*--was a victim of Mr. Sully’s reckless and treasonous act.  After the uprising, when Sgt. McKay ordered  Mr. Cooper, in his capacity as sheriff, to hold several of the captured renegades in the jail, Mr. Cooper’s homestead was burned to the ground and the jail itself decimated by an explosion, by other fugitive renegades attempting to free their compatriots.

     “And,” Morrison continued, “I will prove that Mr. Sully—“  He broke off suddenly, startled and slack-jawed, as a commotion erupted in the back of the church.  Sully and Matthew stared at him, then turned around sharply as Dorothy’s voice split the air, “Oh my God—Cloud Dancin’!”

     Sure enough, Sully was stunned to see his friend standing in the aisle between the rearmost pews, his hands clasped in front of him, calmly surveying the chaotic scene around him.

     “Your Honor!” Morrison sputtered.  “What is the meaning of this?”

     “Somebody arrest that man!” Preston shouted, leaping to his feet and pointing to Cloud Dancing.  “Hank—do your duty!”

     “Order!” Judge Webster commanded, banging his gavel over and over.

     Sully turned to Matthew with an expression of shock and betrayal.  “Matthew—how could you do it?” he whispered harshly.  “You knew I didn’t want Cloud Dancin’ implicated—“

     But Matthew’s eye were equally shocked.  “I didn’t!” he exclaimed under cover of the noise around them.  “Sully, I swear—I had no idea Cloud Dancin’ would show up here!”

     Sully shook his head is dismay and confusion, staring helplessly at his friend and blood brother.  But Cloud Dancing merely regarded him benignly.

     “Order!” Judge Webster bellowed.  “I will have order, or I will clear this courtroom now!”

     “But Your Honor—this Indian—Cloud Dancing—is a fugitive!  He’s the one Sully helped to escape from the reservation.  He has no business walking around free.  He should be arrested!” Preston protested loudly.

     “Who are you?” Webster demanded.

     The banker drew himself up.  “Preston Lodge III, Your Honor, President of the Bank of—“

     “Sit DOWN, Mr. Lodge, or I will cite you for contempt!” the judge cut him off.

     Preston’s face flushed darkly as he reluctantly resumed his seat.  Sully and Matthew watched, not quite able to conceal a gleam of amusement from their expressions.  Preston caught Sully’s eye and gave him a baleful look.

     “I’ll pay for that,” Sully thought cynically.  “But it was worth it!”

     The judge finally succeeded in restoring a modicum of order.  As the noise in the room slowly died down, Webster stared at Cloud Dancing, then looked around the room.

     “All right,” he said flatly.  “Who can give me an explanation for this interruption?”