Under the Sweetwater Rim (1971) (21 page)

Jason was on his feet, but he looked bad.

He was in no shape to ride, but there was no safety for them here. Their only chance was to make the settlement at South Pass and get whatever medical treatment the place would offer.

Mary was still in the saddle, Belle was gathering the few things scattered about.

"Ten, what do we do?" she asked.

He glanced at Mary. Her face was scarcely to be made out in the deeper darkness under the trees.

"Ride," he said. "All we can do is ride."

Jason stood where a little light from the stars fell upon his face. "Can you make it, Jason?" Brian asked.

"I'll make it."

Belle mounted her horse and Ten Brian led the way. Hesitating at the edge of the clearing on the far side from where he had left Kelsey, he then rode quickly out, gun in hand.

He pointed to a square shoulder of rock against the sky. "Point for that. We'll pass a mite to the east of it."

They rode across the meadow at a fast gallop, then slowed where the way led up among the rocks.

Brian held back, letting Mary take the lead, for the danger would, he believed, come from behind.

He saw the others go past, then waited a minute to listen for following hoof-beats, but none came. There was no sound but the wind. Turning, he followed the others.

Again he drew rein. He had an eerie sense of being watched, of being followed, but he knew his reactions were not normal ones, and it worried him.

He listened, but heard no sound in the night.

Rock Creek should be not very far ahead. Beyond that they should come to Willow Creek and be able to follow it down to the settlement. But he had never followed Willow Creek, and had no idea what obstacles there might be. A blow-down in the forest, for instance, might force them to circle around it. He caught up with the others, and they wove their uncertain way through the scattered forest. Occasionally he glimpsed the square shoulder of rock he used as a guide, but often it was out of sight, hidden behind trees. Once he almost dozed in the saddle, but was startled awake by a sudden cessation of movement.

He saw all the horses bunched, and Mary had turned back to him. "Ten, there's somebody or something up ahead. I don't know what it is." He peered into the trees. Was it a fire he saw? A dying fire, perhaps? He listened, and heard no sound.

"I'll scout ahead," he whispered. "If there's any trouble, don't wait, don't think of me, just get out, fast."

He was wide awake now. How far had they come?

Three or four miles? Scarcely that, for their course had been erratic with no regular trail to follow. He looked for the rock and saw it looming above, just a little ahead. He took his rifle and went on, making no sound. He was wary, but his senses were dulled by weariness. The days of struggle, scarce food, and little sleep had taken their toll.

A voice came out of the darkness. "All right, sodger boy, you just stand. You just hold it right there where you are."

He stopped, swaying a little. He could not see the speaker, but his voice located him among the trees ahead, a dark patch that revealed nothing in the way of detail.

Behind him another voice spoke. "It's the women, Jess, and Jase with "em!" "Bring 'em in," Jess replied, "an" Jase, too. Do me good to see him again . . . although it ain't going to do him much good."

Tenadore Brian swore softly. Trapped!

With help only a few miles away, they had walked right into the hands of their enemies. He could see nothing at which to shoot, but he had an idea he himself was skylined, making him the perfect target.

Somebody else spoke up. "Throw some wood on the fire, an' let's see what we ketched."

Ten Brian slumped in the saddle and suddenly through the fog of exhaustion there came an idea.

Carefully he withdrew his feet from the stirrups.

Brush was thick all about him with patches of grass between the clumps. As wood was thrown on the fire and it flared up, he let himself go and toppled from the saddle into the brush.

A shout went up, but he was already scrambling away among the brush. At least for the moment he was free.

"tube! Get him! Get that damned lieutenant and kill him where you find him! Get him, man!"

Brian could hear a dozen men crashing into the brush. He had had no idea there were so many.

All of a sudden there was a shot, far away to the left, a shot and a gulping cry. There was silence.

The women and Jason still sat their horses. The renegades had suddenly disappeared. Somebody had been shot, and by an unknown . . . who? For a long time there was stillness and then Jess spoke matter of factly. "There's only one of him, whoever he is.

Bring the women in, boys, and dismount them. Whoever it is, we'll take him in and salt him down."

Brian fired at the sound of the voice, holding low and shooting quickly, two shots, inches apart. Even as he triggered the last one he was rolling over swiftly, and came up to a crouch. Fear had exploded his weariness. He was tense with excitement, not the best of moods to be in at the moment, but he was ready. Several shots smashed into the brush where he had been. "Good work, Ten!" The voice was forty or fifty yards off, by the sound of it . . . Reuben Kelsey's voice! "You an' me again. We can take'em!" "Kel!" somebody shouted. "What're you shootin' at us for? What's gone wrong?"

Kelsey's voice rumbled, a strange tone as though he were speaking against a rock wall and it was echoing back.

"Now, boys, you know I always liked a good fight, but I like to win, an' you boys are buckin' a stacked deck with Brian here. He ain't the kind to lose. An' those girls ain't for the likes of you.

Me, maybe, but not you." They were silent, and Brian could imagine what they were saying. They were caught in a cross fire if they moved, and although there were more of them-how many he had no idea-they were wondering if there were enough. He moved, crouching, through the brush, working nearer to them. Jason still sat his horse, but Mary and Belle were on the ground. Both had taken their chance and slipped from their saddles. If Jason was even conscious it was remarkable. The silence continued. Nobody moved, each one waiting for some indication of what would happen next. Brian lay pressed against the earth . . . a bug crawled across his hand . . . he felt the breeze touch his cheek, ever so lightly.

The outlaws were not liking it very much, for they knew the kind of trouble Kelsey could bring them. At the same time they resented his interfering.

"Where's the gold, Reub? You got it with you?" one man asked presently. Kelsey laughed . .

. only that, but it seemed to enrage them. Half a dozen shots flashed, pointed toward the sound.

Kelsey laughed again.

Ten Brian, flat against the grass, inched his way along, working closer to where they waited. Where were Mary and Belle? They had dropped from their horses, but by now the renegades might have moved out to them. He paused to listen, then inched onward.

Where they came from he never knew, but suddenly several men lunged up from the brush and rushed at him.

Rolling over on his back, he got off one shot with his rifle, then swung at the legs of the charging men.

He caught the nearest one across the shins and he screamed and fell forward, almost on top of Brian, who rolled over and came up fast, holding his rifle in both hands. He caught the nearest man with a butt stroke across the face, and then drove the barrel into the ribs of another. The attackers closed in around him, but that was the sort of fighting he liked, and for which he had been trained. In the Foreign Legion they expect their enemies to close, and at close quarters there is no more effective weapon than a rifle butt in the hands of a man trained to use it. As the first man lunged to get close, Brian delivered a short butt stroke that dropped him in his tracks. Reversing the movement, he smashed the barrel into the stomach of the next man, then drove the butt against the chin of a third.

They had expected nothing like it, and had met no such attack before. Wild with fury and desperation, Brian waded in, smashing short blows to the head and body. Fearful of injuring each other, none of them fired. He got his chance suddenly and squeezed off a shot at a six-inch range. The man was driven back on his haunches, and a kick flattened him out. Suddenly the brutal fight was over. One terrified man was scrambling away through the brush, another lay groaning on the grass. Two lay silent, merely dark shapes of what had been men.

He squatted quickly, fearful of being outlined against the sky, and crouched there, his breath tearing at his lungs in ragged gasps. He put the butt of his Henry against the ground and balanced himself with it, then went forward on his knees. The nearest man lay within arm's reach and Brian could see a faint gleam from his pistol butt. Reaching over, he drew the gun.

Mary was here, somewhere near him. Odd about that, he had known so many women, and beautiful women, but none he really wanted until he met Mary, and then all of a sudden he knew he had gone far enough.

He knew how Major Devereaux felt and could not find it in himself to blame him. After all, he had come out of nowhere with no future that anybody could see, not even in the army, which would suffer from too many officers looking for places once the war was over.

There was Washington, perhaps. He had languages to help him, and knew more about the world's armies than most, but his kind of experience did not necessarily count for much. And the military mind is always slow to accept change.

Slowly his breathing returned to normal ....

Where was Mary? And Belle? They had been close by, but he heard nothing, and he dare not make a sound that might give his position away. One bullet would be enough, and they would be desperate to kill him now.

Whatever was to happen had to happen soon. He felt he would cave in at any moment. He closed his eyes, and the lids felt hot and dry. There was no moisture on his lips . . . fever?

Somewhere a cricket was chirping, and a nighthawk swooped low above him. He waited on his knees, no longer eager for a fight, just hoping they would go away and leave him.

But he must find Mary and Belle. They had been off to his left, he believed. He started to move, and heard a faint whisper. "Ten?"

"Here!"

He kept his voice low, but not low enough, for there was the lash of a bullet through the leaves within inches of them. He flattened to the earth, and Mary did the same beside him. Her hand found his and they lay there while a rifle barked and half a dozen bullets searched the area for them. Suddenly, a man screamed, a wild, quivering scream of agony and fear . . . then silence.

For a long time then, they lay still, and there was no further sound, nor any movement near them. And somewhere along the line Tenadore Brian fell asleep.

A persistent tugging at his shoulder finally awoke him. "Ten! Tenl Wake upl"

Suddenly he was awake, awake in a blurred sort of way. He turned his head and peered around.

He lay among low brush and stunted trees not thirty yards from the grove where the outlaws had sheltered themselves the night before. Mary still tugged at him. "Ten! Please!"

"What-what is it?"

"It's almost light, Ten, and somebody is coming, over there." She pointed-not toward the grove.

It all came rushing back, and he looked around him. Two men lay dead upon the ground . . . another had crawled off somewhere. Kelsey . . .

Reuben Kelsey was coming, and he was in no shape to meet him. He checked the spare pistol. The chambers were loaded, all six of them. Belle was about fifteen yards away, and Jason was on the ground beside her. Somehow he had gotten off his horse, or he had fallen off.

"Is he alive?" Brian asked.

"Yes, I think so. He was." She clung to his arm. Haggard as she was, her hair awry, her face dirty, she was still lovely. "Ten, who is that out there?" Mary whispered.

"Kelsey."

"What about the others?"

"If he's coming after us, they're dead or gone.

He might have slipped among them and killed them all . . . he could do it."

"What will we do?"

Brian looked at her. "I'll fight. I'll have to. If we try to leave, he'll shoot us down. If we give him an argument he'll smile and agree, and then he'll kill Jason and me at the first opportunity."

He stopped whispering to listen, and heard a chuckle close by. "Looks like you got it figured, boy. An' from the look of you you're in no shape for a fight."

Kelsey stood there, a gun in his hand.

Brian's gun held steady on him, and Kelsey smiled.

"Never thought it would end like this, did you, boy"...[*macr] "Oddly enough, I did,"

Brian replied honestly. "I always knew it would come to a showdown between us someday."

Kelsey chuckled again. "You want it with guns?

If we shoot from here neither of us is going to get out alive."

"I had that in mind. Pd go cheerfully to take you with me right now." "Yeah? Well, I wouldn't. You want it with knives? I want to warn you I'm almighty good with one. Hear that man scream last night? I had to convince those boys that they'd better run whilst they could, so I gave it a little twist where he'd feel it most."