"Pray to tell why it is always I who has to undertake these tiresome chores?" Ezra Standish asked of Chris Larabee when the gunslinger met him at the Standish Tavern the next morning to inform him he was required to go to Purgatory for a little of reconnaissance. The gambler’s mood was already less than hospitable, considering the man spent most of the night camped outdoors keeping watch on the nitro at Nettie’s place with only JD and Nathan for company. As romantic as a night under the stars might sound to someone else, especially Vin Tanner, it was Ezra’s belief the progress of human civilisation was undertaken so human beings no longer needed to sleep in the open.
Unfortunately, Chris was in no better mood. He was forced to spend his evening between a few hours sleep in the spare room and spending the rest of the night on guard duty while suffering an immense hangover after the drinking session he and his father had indulged during their attempt to talk things through. While progress was with the General, Mary was another story entirely. Mary was still extremely displeased at learning just how much he kept secret from her during their months of marriage. He supposed he did not blame her for being mad, but he was not about to start apologising for himself.
As he downed coffee, hoping to dispel the prolific throbbing in his temples, he winced as Ezra’s typical petulance rang in his ears. Chris was no in no mind to argue with the man who could reduce to him to a murderous disposition by his diatribe of protest when they both knew he was going to Purgatory one way or another. "Because you’re good at it and being a professional gambler that you are, you don’t exactly look like a lawman."
"Thank you so much," Ezra grumbled. "Neither do you for that matter but I will not quibble."
"Ezra just shut up and go." Vin groaned with exasperation, seeing Chris's patience being tested to breaking point and wanted to spare Ezra a thrashing if the gambler continued his whining. "We just need you to snoop around a bit and get some answers."
"Since you asked so nicely Mr Tanner," Ezra frowned, knowing they were right and he was the only one who could do this. One of the advantages of being Ezra Standish was the fact wherever he went, he was pegged as a gambler immediately, mostly because of his immaculate grooming and sense of fashion. His manner did not imply lawman and supposed the misconception was what made him so exploitable as an infiltrator. "I shall depart after breakfast."
"Keep your eyes open," Chris warned, pouring himself another cup of coffee when the first cup did nothing to dissipate the headache he was suffering or eliminate the aftertaste of too much alcohol in his system. "There are a lot of them, and apparently they don’t take kindly to strangers."
"I will be my charming best." Ezra grinned, aware he was living dangerously by baiting Chris like this but could not help himself when it was so obvious the man was suffering from a night of libation.
"Just don’t get shot," Chris growled, knowing what Ezra was playing at and not impressed by the gambler’s sense of humour.
Vin drifted away from the table and crossed the floor of the saloon, deciding he did not wish to witness the carnage Ezra was inviting upon himself. Glancing out through the saloon doors, he saw the people outside suddenly turning their attention towards the same direction, their eyes fixed on something that was coming down the street. Vin stepped through the doors emerging unto the boardwalk. The gentle rumble of horses through the floorboards, until he could feel them under his feet. Folk were coming out of stores and out of from under awnings to get a clearer look at what was coming down the street.
Vin could not count their number, but he estimated at least a full platoon of Union soldiers riding into town, in their blue uniforms, dusty from travel through the dry terrain of the Territory. It looked as if they were riding all night and at the head of the formidable display of rifles and bayonets was a lieutenant in full uniform, who seemed younger than Vin did and looked like he had less experience then the men he commanded. In either case, they still looked impressive enough to capture the attention of the townsfolk as they rode into Four Corners.
"Chris!" Vin called out, cutting through the continuing argument between Chris and Ezra.
Chris was at his side in seconds with Ezra not far behind. The three lawmen watched the procession of blue uniforms moving through town, a minor spectacle that captured the attention of everyone. No doubt, they would be searching for the general, and since Chris was more or less the law in this town, the gunslinger found himself striding forward to deal with the new arrivals.
"Well," Ezra said to Vin as Chris left them standing on the boardwalk. "Perhaps now we can be liberated of the tiresome chore of watching over the army’s comedy of errors."
"It wasn’t their fault that they were hijacked," Vin glanced at the gambler but did not wish to reveal he was glad to have the nitro taken off their hands too. There was enough trouble out there with Bellison’s discovery Chris Larabee now resided in Four Corners.
"Forgive me if I seem a little biased," Ezra remarked. "Union soldiers in large numbers still make me a little nervous."
"That’s okay, Johnny Reb, we'll protect ya," Vin responded with a smile and took delight when the gambler made a face at him for the comment.
"On that note, I think I shall make my departure to Purgatory," Ezra said bristling. "Less I fall prey to more of your vulgar generalisations of southern pride."
Vin chuckled and replied. "You think you might need help?" Vin asked, knowing Chris wanted to discuss that with Ezra that before the gambler’s departure to Purgatory. However, it appeared their leader's attention was focussed on the new arrivals into town.
"I do not believe so," Ezra replied. "Us gamblers are a solitary lot, we travel the plains searching for the game, picking up permanent fixtures in our lives. It is a lonely existence…."
"Enough," Vin groaned. "Get going."
Ezra tipped his hat at Vin as he descended the steps towards the livery stable where Chaucer was stabled when Ezra had no need of the animal. "I will try to get back in the morning. If you would be so good as to tell my dear Julia where I am, I would appreciate it."
"Will do." Vin nodded. With women in their lives, it was a common practice for each of them to perform the duty when of them was called away abruptly. IN any case, before the southerner widened the space between them, Vin could not resist but offer one parting shot.
"Take care, Johnny Reb!"
Ezra paused and turned around long enough to offer Vin a well known but not at all gentlemanly gesture with his middle finger before he continued walking.
***********
Chris saw the general emerging from the hotel as he neared the platoon of soldiers riding into his town. Four Corners were obviously curious by the army's presence since Chris and rest of the seven kept the existence of the nitro a secret from everyone except those who were directly involved. Nettie knew well enough to stay silent about the presence of such a volatile substance on her property. Chris could see the curiosity on their faces and knew sooner or later, he would have to give them an explanation but not yet. Until the nitro was safely gone from Four Corners, Chris did not have to tell them anything.
Larabee was in full uniform and immediately recognised by the soldiers whose presence he requested here. As the procession came to a halt upon sighting him, they straightened up in their saddles and offered the proper salute before the general put them at ease. Following the salutation, the lieutenant dismounted his horse and strode towards Larabee. Chris arrived just in time to take position next to his father, a clear indication that Four Corners was his town, and he wanted to be involved in whatever process led to the removal of the nitro.
"General Larabee Sir," the lieutenant announced as he reached Larabee. "Lieutenant Cleary."
"Lieutenant." Larabee nodded in acknowledgment. "This is Christopher Larabee, he is the law in these parts."
Cleary looked at Chris, obviously trying to discern if the similarities in surname and features were just a coincidence when the General noticing his ruminations, spoke up and put that question to rest. "Yes he is my son, now let’s move along, shall we?"
Cleary swallowed and averted his eyes from Chris, who kept his stony expression in place even though there was a slight curl to the corner of his lips when the lieutenant turned back to the general.
"The situation is this," Larabee replied, getting to the heart of the matter. "A shipment of nitro is presently being guarded by the men under Christopher’s charge. The nitro was stolen from one of our army trains, and I require you and your men to assume the duty of guarding the shipment until I can make proper arrangements to have it transported to the nearest railway line. I believe that is in Sweetwater. You will take your men and proceed to the present location of the shipment with my son, to relieve the men who have been guarding it since its arrival here. If all goes well, we will move out to Sweetwater tomorrow. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Sir," Cleary nodded event though there were questions he liked answered. Like what a general’s son was doing playing lawmen to a hole-in-the-wall town like this? However, he kept that curiosity to himself since he did not believe the General would not appreciate his interest.
"I want it kept quiet," Chris added further before Larabee could dismiss the lieutenant. "Folks don’t know about the nitro and there ain’t no reason for them to find out until after it’s gone. No sense creating a situation when there ain’t no need for one."
"Good thinking." The General seemed to agree and faced Cleary once more. "That clear enough for you, lieutenant?"
"It is Sir," Cleary answered, disliking he was at the mercy of this civilian because of his relationship to the general. However, like before, he was not about to say anything about it.
"One other thing," Chris brought up the subject, now that it appeared the men were available for what he required. "We’ve been guarding the prisoners round the clock and the nitro at the same time. I could use a few of your soldiers in my jailhouse to give us a break."
"Do it." Larabee looked at Cleary.
"Yes Sir," Cleary nodded and understood then and there the general would be granting a great many of his son’s requests. It took a few minutes before Cleary selected the men necessary to take up guard duty and Chris aimed them in the direction of the jailhouse. Chris knew Buck wanted to spend some time with Inez and Elena Rose after their exhausting schedule of the last few days. Chris himself was experiencing the same weariness and was glad relief was in sight, even if it came in the form of this pompous lieutenant who looked like he possessed less experience than JD.
"Well if they hold here for ten minutes," Chris remarked after the men were despatched to the jailhouse and he had nothing more that needed doing to keep them from setting out after the nitro. "I’ll get my horse, and we can ride out to Nettie’s. You coming?" He regarded his father.
"Not yet," Larabee replied. "I have to organise rail transportation for our cargo. Lieutenant, you will be under the authority of Colonel Markham upon arrival at your destination, but you will adhere and respect local authority do you understand?" The general said firmly, making it very clear he did not want to see the contempt some officers tended to regard local law enforcement being displayed here. He may not have been in his son’s life for 21 years, but he knew Christopher well enough now to be aware his son ran on a short fuse and was a crack shot. With a hint of pride as well as amusement, Larabee could not deny he was built in pretty much the same way except experience had tempered him with a little more restraint. Still, it was nice to know that Chris had inherited something from him.
"Understood," Cleary answered, his gaze shifting to Chris long enough to show his dislike at those set of orders.
"Me and Vin will take ‘em out there." Chris regarded his father and then gestured he wanted a moment away from the eyes of Cleary who was unhappy at Larabee’s instructions to him about the treatment of his son. However, Chris wondered if that attitude would change if he knew the order had been given mostly to keep Cleary from getting a bullet in the ass if he pulled any of that superior military crap.
Both men started to walk to the saloon where Vin was waiting to see what they were doing when Chris cleared his throat and summed up the courage to say what was needed. Strange how the personal stuff was so difficult to get out. "If you’re still in town tonight," Chris cast a sidelong glance at him. "I thought we might try supper again."
"You sure?" Larabee asked, showing no reaction to that request but then the general had the best poker face of anyone he knew, even Ezra. Everything the man ever felt was well hidden behind that hardened mask, and Chris knew unconsciously, he had tried to emulate that invulnerability and succeeded to some degree.
"Hell, I ain’t sure about nothing any more, but I know Mary was right about family." He admitted trying to inject some humour into the situation to avoid the awkwardness he felt.
"She was." The general agreed and then added after a moment. "By the way, I sent you to best schools I could think of, why do you sound like some like uneducated hick cowboy?"
Chris straightened up in annoyance at the description, particularly the use of the word ‘cowboy’ and stared at his father. "I ain’t a …" His son started to say.
"Don’t... correct...me," Larabee warned and put Chris on the receiving end of one of those sharp glares Chris so often delivered to others. It was enough to cut short anything he had to say, and suddenly Chris understood what the others usually meant by the ‘Larabee glare’.
"Yes Sir," Chris fumed, remembering himself. "I can’t remember but were you always a hard nose son of a bitch?"
"Yes," Larabee nodded, not at all offended and unafraid to admit it. He was starting to enjoy his son as the adult, even if the years apart had made him a little rough around the edges. "But back then I could slap you around if you noticed."
Both men looked at each other for a moment, and an involuntary smile escaped Chris which Larabee soon shared, and for the first time since his father had walked into his life, Chris did not feel so bad about the way things were between them.
"Well," Chris drawled as he started walking again. "At least I know where I got it from."
***********
Bellison had men in place for almost two days now.
Ever since the failed attempt to recover the nitro forced them into retreat to rethink their strategy, Bellison concluded a new tactic had to be taken. It was apparent the men the Lieutenant had under his command would die before allowing anyone to take the nitro and with the arrival of a union general in town, it further complicated matters. Bellison gave his orders from Purgatory, knowing their time in that locality would draw to a close the moment they acquired the nitro. Who could have foreseen the intervention of Chris Larabee, a man Bellison wanted dead for so long? After being told, Julius was euphoric about getting his hands on the lieutenant who destroyed both their lives.
However, Julius was not stupid when there was so much at stake. When their first attempt to recover the nitro failed, the plans for revenge was placed on hold for the time being at least until they knew how they were going to try it again. Bellison knew any strangers in town would be recognised on sight and thus kept his men watching the main tracks into town, knowing nitro in the quantities the lawmen discovered could only be despatched by the army. Eventually, the military would arrive to resume ownership of the hazardous shipment and Bellison knew the army well enough to be confident he would have no trouble reacquiring the nitro from them once they took possession of it.
Less than a few hours after the arrival of the army in Four Corners and the subsequent notification that they had assumed the duties of guarding the nitro, Bellison knew that it was time to move and settle all scores at the same time. Since it was impossible to hide the tracks of an entire platoon, following the soldiers led them to where the nitro was kept. Now they knew the nitro was concealed on a farm outside of town.
The guardians who kept watch on the nitro relinquished their duties and headed back to town, having been told in no uncertain terms by the new arrivals they need no longer worry about the shipment causing so much trouble. Bellison could have predicted it as accurately as he had known the fresh face lieutenant in charge was no match for someone with brains. The lawmen from Four Corners were dangerous, but the army officer who ordered his men to set up camp in the open field where the nitro was kept hidden beneath bales of hay and canvas was exploitable.
Bellison and his men rode out to the farm when the sun had started to set, ensuring they were not seen by avoiding the main trails. Among Larabee’s number was a tracker and Bellison had learnt enough about Vin Tanner after their initial encounter to know that that the man was very good at what he did and would be able to read the signs of their presence if he chose to go looking. The timing had to be precise, and Bellison’s man kept a vigil almost immediately after the platoon had begun setting up camp. Bellison’s plan to retrieve to the nitro hinged on arriving at a specific time.
Before dinner.
***********
A few hours earlier, Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner rode towards Nettie Wells place, leading the military contingent who arrived to take charge of the nitro shipment that was being hidden on the lady’s property. Lieutenant Cleary, who was not hiding his disdain at having to mind his manners before civilians, kept a suitable distance from them which suited Chris just fine because he knew he was being tolerated due to his relationship with the General. Still, he did feel better at the improved relationship with his father, and the General was showing fatherly affection openly. It was a far cry from the aloof man of his youth.
Vin Tanner was in similarly good spirits, mostly because Alex was on the mend and also because the arrival of the army in the locality meant Nettie was no longer in danger from anyone who might attempt to recover the nitro. Although the tracker was not pleased to hide the volatile shipment at the lady’s home after what happened to Alex when Bellison had come to claim it, Chris convinced him that they had little choice in the matter. If Bellison knew enough about Chris to track them down at the ranch, then it might be conceivable he would have the same information about Buck as well and perhaps all of them. Nettie had no real connection to them other than friendship and was distant enough for Bellison to overlook.
"So things okay with you and your pa?" Vin asked as they took the familiar turn of road leading to Nettie’s property. Peso was so accustomed to travelling down this path the horse needed no directions from its master and trotted along on its own with Chris's own horse, Sundance doing the same.
"Getting there," Chris replied, not minding discussing the subject with Vin. With Buck, it was harder, because the man was full of good advice and when what Chris really needed was for someone to just listen. Buck ran on nothing but passion, and while it was admirable to be around a person like that, it could be damn annoying when Buck Wilmington felt people were bottling emotions that ought to be expressed and would not relent until they did. With Vin, it was different. Mostly because Vin knew Chris better than most people with the possible exception of Mary. Vin understood what it was like to feel the need to keep one’s feelings private and when he felt the inclination to intercede, also knew when was the best time to pull back when his inquiries became too much for Chris to handle. This was something that escaped Buck and was usually the cause of most of the arguments in their longstanding friendship.
"Mary invited him to dinner last night," Chris revealed.
Vin showed no reaction but flinched inwardly, glad he was absent at that meeting. He doubted Chris would have seen the gesture by his wife as anything but meddlesome. "How did it go?"
"Not well," Chris said in what had to be the understatement of the year. "I slept in the spare room last night." He did not look at Vin as he said that and Vin had enough sense not to avoid comment because the tracker wanted to see his next birthday.
"I guess I’m apologising tonight." He finally broke the awkward silence that lingered after his last statement.
"I’ve done that," Vin admitted with a wry smile. "Well slept in my wagon anyway. I almost did again with this whole wedding business." An involuntary frown crossed his face when he thought about that whole episode with Alex and how badly things had gone because he allowed paranoia to get the better of him.
"You given any thoughts to what you gonna do about that?" Chris asked, glad he wasn't the only one embroiled with personal difficulties and was more than happy to shift the attention back to Vin’s forthcoming nuptials or lack of for that matter.
"I don’t know," Vin groaned, visibly frustrated by the whole subject. "She says she doesn’t want a big fuss and I know I sure as hell don’t want one and then again, I keeping thinking about what Buck said and…"
"Just don’t take too much Buck has to say to heart," Chris warned. "We are talking about a man who married his wife when she was in labour."
"I suppose," Vin chuckled, remembering the whole incident well. It was still subject of much amusement between the seven whenever Buck was absent. It ranked right up there with the time Ezra had to dress up as a lady singer in Wickestown and when Josiah had come charging to the rescue of his lady fair at Guy Royal’s spread, drunk as a coot. "I keep thinking about what she ought to have instead of what she says she wants. I wonder whether she says she doesn’t want no fuss because she knows I’d hate it."
"Well I tell ya, Vin," Chris said with a sigh, grateful for the benefit of experience because he was able to offer some advice in this regard. Despite generalisations by Buck, no woman was ever the same as another, just as men were individually different. "Alex is pretty sure about things, and if she says she wants a small wedding, I would listen to her."
"I want to just want to find a preacher somewhere and do it quiet, you know?" The tracker sighed, having no real problem with marrying the love of his life but not at all looking forward to all the ceremony that came with it. Ezra’s talk about suits and place card, not to mention Buck’s pearls of wisdom about him having to be on display stole all the enjoyment out of what should have been an experience to look forward.
"I know," Chris understood utterly, having wished for something with a little less fanfare himself when he and Mary tied the knot. Fortunately, Alex was not as public a figure as Mary was in Four Corners and so she was under less pressure to invite the entire town to her wedding. Besides, Chris had a good sense of Alexandra Styles and believed she wanted an understated ceremony as much as Vin although the female in her would not sit still for an elopement, no matter how much Vin might wish otherwise.
"Think of it this way," the gunslinger said with a devious smile. "You only gotta do it once."
"Thanks, pard," Vin frowned as they caught sight of Nettie’s house in the distance. "You’re a real help."
Instead of heading towards the house, Chris and Vin motioned Cleary and his men to follow them off the main track through the trees. They continued through a rough patch between the trees making up the untamed terrain that surrounded the property. While Bellison might not suspect Nettie’s being a possible place of refuge for the nitro, Chris did not want to take any chances. Placing the nitro a suitable distance away from the homestead would ensure even if Bellison did discover its location, Nettie would be far enough away from the site when they came to retrieve it.
While Nettie’s property was quite sizeable, she did not have the money or resources to exploit the land and thus pastoral farming was confined to the small plot near the homestead. Vin actually preferred the rugged terrain remaining as it was since there was a beauty to it he and Alex had often enjoyed whenever they came riding out this way some nights. So many of the pivotal moments in their relationship had taken place at Nettie’s. The first time she realised she might love him was at the creek on the property, when his hands touched hers and she looked into his eyes and realised what he could mean to her. Even though Vin and Alex spent most of their time at the ranch these days, they still liked to ride to the place where their love built its foundations.
It did not take them long to reach the small campsite that Buck and the others set up while guarding the nitro hidden behind several large bales of hay and thick sheets of canvas. The paddock where the wagons were hidden appeared empty except for the stacks of hay covered with canvas to protect them from the elements. Only upon closer observation would anyone discover they were nothing of the kind.
As usual, JD was taking his duties very seriously, perched on top of a stack of several bales of hay, shotgun cradled in his arms as his youthful face tensed with concentration. Obviously, the young man appointed himself lookout and was keeping a firm eye on the terrain while his older peers sat near the nitro, confident JD would alert them if trouble arose. Actually, JD would inform them even if there was absolutely nothing taking place and he was merely bored, which was really the reason why he was often selected to take up the position as the lookout.
Markham assumed command of the platoon and its lieutenant when they arrived, a state of affairs Chris was quite grateful since Markham seemed to have a great deal more intelligence than Cleary.
Meanwhile, Vin and Chris greeted their comrades and appraised them of what was happening. All three men looked as exhausted as they probably felt and Chris was pleased to be able to tell his friends it was finally safe enough to leave the nitro in the hands of the proper authorities now they had arrived.
"So what now, Chris?" JD asked, aware the gunslinger wanted to go after Bellison and the infamous Captain Julius, now they no longer had to worry about keeping the nitro guard.
"We get some rest," Chris said firmly. "Ezra’s gone to Purgatory to snoop around a little. He ought to be back tomorrow until then there ain’t a lot we can do. We’ve been working around the clock since this began and we need to rest up in case Bellison and his men decide to throw anything else at us." Instinctively, he glanced over his shoulder at the soldiers who scattering across the area, setting up camp and felt a shudder of concern he could not explain. Markham seemed capable enough to take care of things, but Chris could not help feeling apprehensive. Shaking off the feeling because he knew it was just because he hated turning things over to someone else, Chris knew the army could handle the watch on their own.
"When are they moving the nitro?" Josiah inquired, catching the sliver of uneasiness surfacing momentarily in Chris’s eyes.
"Tomorrow. According to the general." Vin answered as Chris lapsed into thought for a moment. "They’ll be taking it to Sweetwater and getting it away from there by train."
"I hope they have better luck hanging on to it this time." Nathan retorted, unashamed to admit he felt it the height of incompetence such a dangerous cargo could have been stolen right from under the military’s nose in the first place.
"I think they’ve learnt well enough." The preacher remarked.
"I’m not so sure." Chris found himself admitting. "If there’s one thing I remember about the army is memory lasts as long as the next commander."
"Maybe we ought to keep an eye on things," JD added. "I mean like you said it is a lot of nitro to lose."
Chris considered that but knew both Markham and Leary was tolerating his presence only because of the General. If he were to start inferring they were not up to doing their jobs, it could deepen the animosity to a boiling point, and Chris had enough troubles at the moment without having to deal with the slighted egos of union officers. Besides, not even Bellison and his men were foolish enough to hit a platoon of soldiers who were expecting trouble with what they were guarding.
"No," Chris shook his head and hoped he was doing the right thing. "This is their show, let them handle it. We got bigger fish to fry."
Despite the anonymity of their present location, Markham was still uncomfortable about the nitro being out in the open as it was. The members of the Citadel, a designation no one in intelligence liked using because giving this enemy a name would only make the threat they posed all the more real, was one of the most dangerous militant groups to emerge in recent times. Unlike the Ku Klux Klan whose membership was mostly limited to the south and was splintered and disorganised, prolific only in the acts of violence committed against the coloureds, the Citadel was a very different kettle of fish entirely.
Formerly a peaceful movement, Hannibal Julius entered the picture and militarised the Citadel by inciting the belief among its membership that change for the betterment of mankind could only be done through violence. The Civil War seemed a case in point, considering how the war had brought about the emancipation of slaves. Unaware of his past, the members who still remained in light of its sudden change in policy, regarded the former Union Captain as a visionary. As someone striving for equality, he became to hem, the kind of leader worth dying for. The General and Markham had kept the group under surveillance, watching Julius move his pieces into place, preparing for a first strike that would leave an indelible impression upon all that the Citadel had arrived.
In what form that impression would take was the biggest wild card in this whole scenario even though the presence of so much nitro implied violence. Markham wondered if Chris Larabee had any idea of just what kind of membership the Citadel now spanned. It was not a matter of a few dozen men here and there, but cells across the country. The fear Larabee had not spoken to his son was that even if they did manage to get his hands on Julius, the legacy he created might not die. In fact, killing him could turn Julius into a martyr and make him the rallying cry for a thousand acts of violent retribution.
Markham gazed up at the sky above and saw the stars out in full force. The beauty of this land was not lost on him, especially when stars shone brighter when not in competition with the lights of a big city. He stared a moment at the expanse above before the aroma of the evening meal captured his attention and forced him to his feet in search of it. Although there were reconnaissance patrols and sentries on guard, it did not appear as if the Citadel was going to make a move tonight. He supposed Julius had improved his military tactics considerably since he was Chris Larabee’s commanding officer and avoided from making foolish attacks like a frontal assault.
"What’s cooking?" Markham asked as he reached the cook at the far end of the camp. Around him, a few others were lingering about waiting for the evening meal. Even though it was summer, the temperatures dropped drastically at night with most of the men burrowing deep into their coats, trying to escape the cold while waiting in expectation of hot food.
"Just some stew." The grizzled sergeant replied as he continued stirring the contents of the cauldron suspended over the fire. "But there’s a lot of it, and it’s hot."
Which met the army standard for being edible, Markham thought and decided after nearly twenty years as a military man, his stomach had no sense of taste left and could endure anything. "Good enough for me." He remarked and walked away, not knowing the man well enough to continue the conversation.
A private caught his eye, and the man shifted uncomfortably before slinking into the shadows to avoid making any eye contact. Markham frowned, hating the awkwardness of rank at times. He supposed he had become accustomed the last few days to being regarded as a human by the men who rode with Chris Larabee that it took an adjustment to be looked upon as a colonel once more. He saw Lieutenant Cleary sitting amidst his men, pouring himself a cup of coffee and decided he would not mind a cup himself. Approaching them the lieutenant, Cleary started to rise to attention, as did the rest of the group with him before Markham gestured for them to remain at ease.
"Just want a cup of Joe," Markham replied and immediately prompted someone into pouring some of the beverage into a tin mug before handing it to him.
"How long have you been here, Colonel?" Cleary asked in what appeared to be an attempt at conversation rather than any real interest to find out.
"About two days," Markham responded, savouring the feel of hot coffee in his mouth. "We rode in straight after we got Larabee’s telegram."
"You mean the General?" Cleary looked at him.
"No, his son," Markham answered and immediately saw a dark look eclipsing the young lieutenant’s face.
"I see." Lieutenant Cleary nodded, taking a sip of coffee in a clumsy attempt to avoid talking about that particular subject. By this time, dinner was more or less ready, and soldiers were gathering with their army supplied steel dinner plates to line up for food. As bodies drifted off to get in line, the two commanding officers remained where they were for the moment. There was no need to rush because as the cook declared earlier, there was plenty of food and no need to jockey for position in fears of missing a serving.
"He’s not so bad." The colonel said with a smile. Although he had not liked Chris Larabee either upon first meeting, it became apparent the steel of the father Markham respected, was also present in the son. "I have found the junior Larabee to be no fool."
"He is a civilian," Cleary pointed out distastefully.
"That he is, but he was a Captain in the war." Markham pointed out and drew surprise from Cleary who could hardly imagine the savage-looking man in black once wore the uniform of a Union captain.
"I don’t believe it. Chris Larabee hardly looks like the type to be a soldier." Cleary remarked as the cook made a brief appearance and served them each a plate of food. After thanking the grizzled looking sergeant, both men took a moment to partake of the savoury stew before resuming their conversation. Around them, the chatter around the camp had become silent in favour of cutlery clattering against metal plates as the soldiers dined.
"Wars change men in ways that are hard to define," Markham replied and knew it was true. A man being shot in the back had much reason for his perspective to alter, as certainly Chris Larabee’s had been when Julius attempted to murder him.
Cleary nodded for a moment and did not speak, appearing to ruminate on the colonel’s words while continuing to eat. Both officers said nothing for a while, taking a few minutes to clean their plate because the day had been long, and they were hungry. The food was not exactly the quality a gourmand who demand, but it was tasty and very soon. He had set down his place and let his gaze travel around the camp momentarily, spying all the soldiers who were engaged in similar culinary pursuits until his eye rested on the private he had seen earlier. The man was not eating but watching everyone. For a moment, Markham wondered why wasn’t he hungry and noted the way he observed the others. Curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned over to the lieutenant. "Cleary, who is that private over there? Seems kind of solitary."
"Which man?" Cleary asked as he leaned over to get a better look at who the colonel required him to identify. It was hard to get into position because his stomach was burning with pain, and he was starting to feel a little jittery. He glanced momentarily at his plate and thought something must have disagreed with him. Perhaps, too much pepper. In either case, he ignored the sensation and turned his attention to Markham’s question.
"That one there." Markham pointed him out.
Cleary eyes searched the faces and quickly saw the man Markham wanted him to find which was easy enough to do because he knew every man in his platoon and the man Markham pointed to was not someone he recognised. With a start, Cleary stood up at the realisation he did not know this man and was sure did not belong to his platoon. His abrupt rise created fresh pain in his abdomen, and for a moment, Cleary thought he had a severe case of indigestion when he realised Markham was no longer interested in his answer. The colonel was gasping in pain, trying hard to breathe as he clutched his chest.
Cleary started to feel the same constriction in his chest at the same time he heard someone crying out and then someone else until the cacophony of voices growing louder through the thickening fog of pain drowned out his ability to distinguish one from the other. The young man tried desperately to cling to his senses as he felt his voice dissolve in his throat as the cords became emersed in bile and fear. He saw the men he had ridden with, who he commanded and whose very lives were his to protect and guide, choking in pain as they dropped to their knees and did a different dance each but moving to the same rhythm of death.
The astonishment of what he was seeing centred his thoughts for the moment, and he saw his entire platoon in the throes of the same malaise, struggling to breathe as if the air denied them was not just to their lungs. He felt the same tightening and gasped more desperately as he tried to flood his body with the precious oxygen that was not penetrating some invisible net that seemed to have them all. His men were convulsing, clutching their stomachs in pain while others already descended into the black place beyond help. He watched with rising horror, intermingled with the knowledge that the swirling inside his mind and the deprivation of breath was only the prelude to a condition that had no escape.
There was a final moment of lucidity when the fog cleared long enough for Cleary to sight the face that had begun the descent into hell for all his men. The face stared back at Cleary, perhaps realising throughout the chaos taking place around him that the play was finally reaching its last act. He seemed to smile then, pleased at the drama-reaching climax. Cleary understood then, with a clarity of mind denied him most of his short life because of arrogance and short-sightedness, how doomed they were, they believed they were better and smarter than the enemy.
He tried to scream when the realisation finally breached the swirl of delirium in his mind and when it came, he did not even know if the sound escaping him was his at because all he could hear was that desperate screaming from so many others...
***********
When Nettie Wells heard the gunshots and went to investigate, she decided she was glad she made Casey stay at the homestead instead of witnessing what Nettie found at the army encampment. Nettie had lived a hard life and was certain by this juncture, there was very little capable of shaking her to the core. What she saw at the camp was enough to rewrite that assumption for all time.
Nettie did not know how much time passed after the gunfire ceased, and the men responsible for the carnage to make good their escape. In truth, she was somewhat relieved she was absent for their murderous work. Men who killed this way were capable of anything. Nettie moved through the camp, in a dazed as she searched for any signs of life. As expected, there were none. Whoever was responsible for this was extremely thorough, leaving no survivors. During the war, she saw battles and the aftermath that followed. It struck awful close to home what now lay at her feet was not so different.
She did not know how long she wandered through the camp, but the time seemed to drag with every face Nettie saw until finally, she could do nothing but pull herself away from it. Mounting her horse and leaving the terrible scene behind her, she rode home first because she knew the news of what happened at the camp needed to reach the Seven. Casey was a faster rider than she was. Her niece could cross the distance between their property and Four Corners swiftly, and truth be told Nettie wanted Casey as far away from here as possible until the soldiers could be appropriately attended to. There were some things Nettie did not wish Casey to see, no matter how grown up the girl believed she was.
"What was it, Aunt Nettie?" Casey asked, emerging onto the porch the moment she heard the approach of Nettie’s horse.
"You ain’t got time for me to answer any questions, Casey," Nettie said quickly, wishing to avoid the subject altogether. "You got to get riding to Four Corners, right away."
"Why?" Casey demanded, feeling her pulse quicken by the intensity of Nettie’s words. Something was terribly wrong, and even though she wanted to know what, Nettie’s manner told Casey it would not be a good idea to ask.
"Casey." Nettie gave her a look and confirmed her suspicion. "I want you to get riding to Four Corners right away and find Chris. Tell him something bad has happened to the soldiers and that he needs to come right away."
"What’s happened?" Casey tried again, feeling apprehensive because there was something in Nettie’s eyes that told her that there was more to it and that it might just be too awful to imagine.
"Now, Casey," Nettie said sharply. "Get going now."
The young woman could only nod and hurried into her house to get dressed for the trip, understanding by Nettie’s tone alone it was best she obeyed until Nettie was ready to tell her about it. With a matter of minutes, Casey was dressed in her riding clothes and mounting her horse to make the journey to Four Corners.
***********
Chris was about to head home and make his apologies to Mary for their latest argument and to promise this was their last argument on the subject of his father when Casey Wells rode into the town like a bat out hell. With dark hair trailing behind her as she pushed her mare to its limits, the girl looked like a harbinger of doom. It did not take her long to bring news to him something terrible had taken place at Nettie’s, and she was sent to town to fetch him and the others. Judging by how closed mouth Nettie had been in disclosing anything to Casey; Chris feared the worst.
Fortunately, except for Ezra who would not be expected to return until the next day, the rest of the seven were in town, having congregated there after taking care of their personal business. While Chris had not seen Mary since his wife spent most of the day running errands, he did assure Billy things between Mary and himself would work itself out. Taking Billy aside and explaining things to him like they were still friends, not father and son had gone a long way to forging the bonds that made the later possible.
Deciding the presence of the general was probably a good idea as well, Chris fetched his father from his hotel. Within the hour after Casey’s arrival in town, they were riding towards Nettie Wells’s property. Chris ordered Casey to stay with Alex home until they knew what it was that caused Nettie to summon them so urgently. Whatever it was, it had to be terrible, Chris thought as they rode through the night. Nettie was not a woman who frightened easily and for her, so send her niece out to find them like this, did not bode well at all.
The mood was tense as they rode to Nettie’s with the conversation being short and clipped in anticipation of what they would find when they arrived at the army encampment. It was well into the night when they finally reached the parcel of land they left a few hours ago in the hands of Markham and his men. The most noticeable thing that captured their attention upon returning to this site was the silence. When they departed earlier, there were all the sounds associated with life, lively chatters, orders being thrown about not to mention the preparations for the setting up of camp. Now there was nothing but silence. They and the chirping of crickets in the dark were the only things making a sound.
The campfire had burned itself out by this point, and as they lit fires to see, what the light revealed was something none of them wished to see. For a moment, the enormity of it did not register any of them, because it was simply too much. Once the horror of it settled across their minds in all its terrible visage, Chris could well understand why Nettie had sent Casey to town.
Bodies.
As far as the eye could see, throughout the entire length and breadth of the camp, there were bodies. They covered the ground like the aftermath of a great battle, where everyone died without a drop of blood being spilt. Later on, when the Seven sifted through the corpses, they would find one or two soldiers who were killed by bullets, not the poison fed to their comrades. The scene before the new arrivals was nothing less than obscene as they took in the sight of bodies growing cold rapidly in the twilight. For the longest time, no one could speak. Not even Chris, who thought he had seen the very worst of what the night had to offer, could find words to describe what was before them.
"Oh, my God," Someone finally managed to squeeze sound out of their throat, and Chris thought it might have come from Josiah.
Once the silence was broken, the others came to life as well. Nathan was the first to react because, in his mind, he did not think about the dead, but how many might still be alive. With that compelling him forward, the healer went to the nearest person to begin his examination. Only when he rolled the person onto his back and Josiah approached them both with a makeshift torch, did he discover it to be Lieutenant Cleary.
"What the hell did this?" Vin asked. The tracker’s voice was lower than usual, and Chris could only shake his head mutely as he went to investigate the rest of the camp to see if this carnage was as complete as it appeared.
"Poison," Nathan spoke up after he had made a quick examination of Cleary’s body.
"Poison?" Larabee turned to him. The general’s eyes glimmered in the dark, but only Chris knew how truly furious he was even if he did nothing to show his rage. It festered beneath the surface, revealing itself in the tightening of his jaw.
"Yeah," Nathan nodded and captured their undivided attention. "Looks like prussic acid." He answered, having learnt this much from his studies the past year in preparation for his medical exams. "It’s odourless, and in food, you wouldn’t even know its there, but you can tell by the colour of the tongue."
"Colour?" Buck asked quietly as he kept a close eye on JD who had never seen death on this scale and was turning a different shade himself. The boy was doing everything he could to maintain his composure, but even Buck could see he was fighting a losing battle.
"His tongue is blue." The healer turned away and went to another patient, hoping against hope he would find someone alive even though logic dictated this was impossible now. If prussic acid did this, then it was highly unlikely any survivors would be found. "Prussic acid keeps oxygen from getting to the lungs and body."
"You mean these men suffocated on dry land," Larabee replied coldly. His voice was like glass, and it cut through each man present.
"This is sick....." JD started to say, his breathing increasing as he saw these bodies around him and could not imagine how anyone could do this. "A man has a right to see his killer." The boy answered, his throat becoming drier and drier with each second that passed. He could feel sweat forming under his hair and his skin heating up with anger and raw disgust the likes of which he had never known. "There’s gotta be some kind of honour to fighting, not this!"
"JD." Buck was on him in a second, trying to settle him down. "Calm down!"
"I can’t calm down!" JD shouted. "There’s gotta be someone alive!"
Suddenly, the general was in front of him, and Larabee took JD’s face in his hands.
"Look at me." He ordered, and JD found himself unable to do anything but stare into those eyes that gleamed like obsidian in the dark. "Every fight has its dead, those are the rules. We don’t like it but that’s the way it is. You need to calm down because I need every man here focussed if we’re gonna get the sons of bitches who did this and trust me, we are going to get them. Even if we chase them to hell and back, they are going to answer for this. Understand? Now shut it off. Put it someplace inside your mind and close the door."
JD shuddered and tried not to look at the bodies around him and knew the older man was right. He could not think about it or else he would be no good to anyone.
"Listen to the man JD," Buck said quietly, not entirely sure whether or not that was the tactic he would have used but unable to deny that the effects were exactly what JD needed at this moment.
"When you feel it creeping out at you," the General continued to say in the same voice, cold as ice but sharp enough to splinter black horror they felt, to give them strength in this darkest of hours. "Just don’t look and try to keep that door inside your head shut. Keep slamming that door until it stays close."
JD nodded slowly, his head still in the man’s hands and let out a deep breath. "Shut the door." He swallowed, and the General released him. Closing his eyes, he tried very hard to do what the man asked and kept reminding himself he had to be tough, to give these poor souls some justice.
"You okay JD?" Buck asked, wrapping an arm around him just to show him that he was not alone.
"I’m fine Buck." JD smiled nervously, trying not to look too closely at anything.
The big man tipped his hat towards the General in a gesture of gratitude which Larabee acknowledge with a slight bow of his head before returning to his son and his very able second. Chris had gone to the far side of the camp, their presence marked by the torch they were carrying. However, its illumination revealed nothing but menace and the stakes for how much further things could deteriorate seemed to need redefining with each new discovery. God only knows what Vin would find as he scouted the area. The tracker who was better at seeing in the dark had no need for light, and Chris knew if there were answers to be found, only Vin could manage it.
"Is it gone?" Larabee asked, not even needing an answer really because this massacre could have only one purpose.
"All of it." Chris sighed as he viewed the empty place where the nitro had been. "As sick as this is, its Julius’s style."
"A man who shoots another in the back will not have trouble poisoning him either." Larabee frowned, letting his gaze sweep across the bales of hay scattered across the area after the enemy found their precious cargo. "Kid was right," he said icily. "There ought to be some honour to how men fight and the one who would do this needs putting down, quickly."
"We’ll oblige him," Chris answered, meeting his father’s gaze as Nathan came to join them. Behind them, Josiah and Buck were starting to gather bodies, and it was a task they would all soon have to partake because it was wrong to leave the dead just lying on the earth waiting to be claimed by buzzards or any nocturnal predator.
"Not all of them were poisoned," Nathan revealed. "Looks to me they all went at pretty much the same time. Someone poisoned the food they were eating for supper. Some didn’t eat, of course, and looks as if they were shot."
"Jesus," Chris whispered, unable to imagine the callousness of it all and forced himself to rein his disgust so he could function.
"It’s all of them?" Larabee inquired.
"Yes Sir," Nathan nodded and then added reluctantly. "Including Markham."
Larabee looked up at him sharply as the news impacted and then faded away a moment later. "He was a good man." The General said quietly, his gaze dropping to his feet as he thought about the friend who had been at his side for more years than he cared to remember. "Markham was in intelligence for years, he was the best undercover man I knew." Larabee showed no signs of remorse and appeared as if he were speaking about a friend who might just reappear instead of lying in the dirt dead and gone forever. "Twenty years out there and he gets killed by poison at supper."
"I’m sorry Sir." Chris offered, aware that his father was hiding a great deal of sorrow at Markham’s death.
"The same thing that goes for the boy goes for me too." The General cleared his throat and looked up at him. "It needs to be put away someplace dark for the time being."
"Chris." Vin made his appearance out of the shadows a few seconds later. The tracker’s expression was even stonier than usual although Chris could hardly blame him for his grim disposition considering what lay before them. "I found two bodies a ways from here. Their clothes were stripped. I think they’re from the platoon."
"That’s how they got in." Chris nodded, unsurprised by this news at all. "Probably took out a recon patrol sweeping the area and stole their uniforms."
"Yeah," Vin nodded. "I found tracks even further out than that. I don’t think they belonged to your men, General."
"Let me guess they lead from another way in here?" Larabee asked, making an educated guess following the revelation of stolen uniforms.
"It’s a tougher route, but good riders can make it with the help of an experienced man with the land," Vin answered.
"Bellison," Chris muttered softly. Bellison was a tracker like Vin, and if there was a way to approach without being seen, Bellison would have found it.
"There were a lot of them." The tracker continued for the benefit of those waiting to hear his findings. "I figured they waited while the two who grabbed uniforms, came into camp and did what they had. Once these army boys were dead or dying, they came in and killed anyone who wasn’t poisoned and then took the nitro."
"Shit!" Chris swore unable to believe he had walked away from this place, allowing that kid to be in charge. Not only had Cleary got himself and the men under his command killed but he'd also lost the entire shipment of nitro intended to kill even more people. "I knew we should have kept an eye on this ourselves."
Larabee stiffened and bit back. "Then you would be dead too, and the nitro would still be gone."
His father was right but knowing did not change things. The nitro had vanished, and they were no closer to finding Bellison and his men then when this all started. Chris wondered if things could get any worse.
***********
Mary glanced outside the window once again, wondering why she was doing that when it was quite obvious, Chris would not be home for a while. After hearing from Casey Nettie summoned the lawmen to her property, Mary assumed some crisis had occurred requiring their immediate attention. The widow was not prone to exaggeration and Mary tried not to worry about Chris and what danger might be waiting for him. Billy had gone to bed already, and Mary knew she ought to be doing the same, but she could never sleep well when Chris was out there somewhere, facing who knew what kind of danger.
She found herself in the parlour, curling up with a book she had read a hundred times before. However, she often felt comforted by its words in times of crisis, and this time was no different, except she was doing it, nursing a cup of hot chocolate. She was in the midst of a sip when suddenly, the door knocked. Instinctively, she glanced at the clock wondering who it could be at this hour and hoped it was not some emergency requiring Chris’s attention because she would not be able to accommodate the late-night caller if it were.
Setting aside the cup on the nearby side table, she tightened the cord around her robe as she proceeded to the back porch where most visitors to the Larabee household tended to use when they came calling for purposes not related to the Clarion. She did not recognise the shape through the glass, but that did not mean anything because the darkness outside made it difficult to see.
Upon reaching it, she pulled open the door and found herself staring into the barrel of a gun. The man who stood before her was no one she knew, but the menace she saw in his face was unmistakable. Giving her little or no time at all to react, he jammed the gun into her belly and said with a perfectly calm voice.
"Good evening Mrs Larabee," he smiled. "Permit me to introduce myself, I am Mr Bellison."
Ezra could sense trouble in the wind even though he had no idea of what was transpiring in Four Corners during his journey to Purgatory.
Upon his arrival, the gambler headed towards the saloon frequented by the charming Maria, with whom Chris Larabee spent much time during his early days in Four Corners. The illusion he was here to see a saloon girl for whatever sybarite delights she might bestow on him was sufficient enough to convince those watching he was no one to suspect. As much as he complained while in the company of Vin Tanner and Chris Larabee earlier on that day, he did concede they were wise sending him to undertake this particular bout of intelligence gathering.
It further amused Ezra, though he would never say it aloud to Chris Larabee who would die before admitting it, the gunslinger’s warnings, were more for his safety than gaining accurate intelligence. Buck once described Chris as being raised by bears, although after seeing the paternity that produced Chris Larabee, Ezra felt the description was incorrect. While the analogy was not something Ezra would ever reveal to Chris, mostly because he wished to live to a ripe old age, Chris was more like a wolf. Those who threatened his pack earned his extreme displeasure in a display of savage retaliation.
Arriving in Purgatory, he noticed the sombre atmosphere Vin described to him but maintained an air of ignorance as he tethered Chaucer to the hitching post. Surveying the unimpressive collection of shanties and mud-brick dwellings, he saw eyes stealing furtive glances through the cracks of doors and through curtains. Ezra could read the body language of those who emerged from their places of hiding to take an interest in him, their attention was more than just passing.
The gambler ignored the attention, knowing it was vital to his survival, he did not raise any suspicions. Walking into one of the tented saloons, Ezra surveyed the well-lit establishment with its canvas roof swaying overhead, allowing fresh air and sunshine into its premises. Seeking out Maria, with her lusty looking woman with the wild hair and full lips, Ezra had to admit she was a tasty morsel indeed and could understand Chris’s interest in the past. When he did not see her, Ezra assumed she was otherwise engaged with a customer and drifted towards the bar.
"The finest of whatever you have," Ezra asked the rather slovenly bartender, perfectly aware the best of what the establishment had to offer would be anything not brewed by two yokels with a still and common parentage.
The man snorted and reached underneath the bar for a bottle of Red Eye. For this place, Ezra decided it must have been Napoleon brandy. He poured Ezra a glass and was about to retreat with the bottle when the gambler gestured him to let it remain. Once monies were exchanged for the transaction, Ezra took the opportunity to find out about Maria and hoped wherever she was, she would not be long.
"Tell me kind Sir," Ezra answered, offering him an extra coin. "When will the charming Miss Maria be arriving?"
The man stiffened and pushed the coin back to Ezra, his demeanour shifting from gruff and derisive to surly and unhappy, a change that did not bode well for Ezra's inquiry and put the gambler immediately on guard.
"She won’t be back."
"Of course she has to come back," Ezra declared for the benefit of anyone listening. "Now that young lady truly knows how to take care of a man’s needs, and I have a dire craving for her personal expertise in a more intimate location." He threw in a leer of suggestion just for effect.
"She’s dead."
Ezra's smile dropped like a thud, and he commended himself inwardly for managing to conceal she meant more to him than just a passing acquaintance. He took a deep breath and let it out dispelling any personal feelings he might have on the matter and replaced it with a mask to suit the moment. To the casual observer, they would have seen nothing out of the ordinary, just the visage of someone given unexpected news but nothing more. Ezra if anything was very good at hiding how he truly felt. A poker face was an absolute necessity in his line of work.
"How unfortunate," Ezra answered a little more sedately. "How did it happen?"
"She asked too many questions," the man growled, his manner indicating he felt more grief than he was showing because it was unwise to reveal it. Ezra could appreciate his sorrow. After all, the man would have seen Maria on a day to day basis. She could not operate here without his sufferance and did not press the subject any more since it was apparent she had met her end prematurely by agents who were probably still present.
"Point taken." Ezra nodded and replied. "Well, it appears I might just have to find my amusement in Purgatorio somewhere else. The poor child will be missed. She was truly…" he paused and offered a salacious leer at anyone who was paying attention. "Gifted."
Whether or not the bartender could see through his ruse was unknown since the man turned away and returned to serving his other customers. Ezra lingered a moment longer, downing the contents of his shot glass and left the premises in search of a game at the gambling halls. His departure barely rated notice by those in the saloon who appeared to be regulars since the bartender addressed them by name. Ezra had a feeling the men he wanted to meet would not be greeted so favourably the gruff owner of the establishment.
Only after he left the place, did Ezra drop the mask of indifference at Maria’s death. Chris was not going to take this well, and Ezra did not relish telling the gunslinger the woman had died in light of their past relationship. No doubt she must have been killed straight after Chris and Vin encountered her yesterday since it was the only reason that Ezra could imagine anyone taking her life. If a report reached Bellison about her acquaintance past or present with Chris Larabee, her fate would have been sealed.
Ezra would have liked to have learnt something more about her death to bring it back to Chris, who would undoubtedly wish to know, just before he started blaming himself for it. Unfortunately, probing too deeply into that question would have brought him unwanted attention. Ezra could not afford that right now. He crossed the street and noticed his movements followed by eyes seated under the awnings of some buildings, through the windows of some lodging houses and saloons, not to mention anyone else on the street. They observed him, trying to decide what Ezra was and became uneasy when they could not come up with a suitable answer. The gambler pretended not to notice their scrutiny as he slipped through the batwing doors of the largest gambling establishment in Purgatory. That distinction was earned simply because it had several felt-covered tables and a roulette wheel while the others were mostly little more than saloons with tables for the purpose.
Ezra entered the establishment and let his gaze sweep over the room as he took in the sight of the patrons. As Maria warned Chris before her tragic demise, there were new players in town not of the calibre frequenting Purgatory. Outlaws had a distinct look and feel about them. They wore their exile state in their dusty clothes, the worn butt of their guns and the fact that everyone who came in was a potential danger. When he walked in and saw the faces around him, these were men with a purpose and looked as if they were killing time while awaiting something to happen,
In that instance, Ezra knew whatever was happening in Purgatory, he had just stepped into the heart of it.
The dealer at the blackjack table tried to warn him away with a fearful gaze, this was not the place to be. Ezra ignored him and noticed the three players at the table. The two flanking the one in the middle looked inconsequential and told Ezra by the way they studied him carefully that they were merely protection. The person in the middle seemed unperturbed by his entrance, bordering on indifference and continued to play. Stature wise, he was not very big or tall, but he could be considered spry, and the muscles Ezra spied beneath the silk of his shirt was cultivated over a great deal of physical punishment. His face was not that of a man used to hardship, bordering on refined with dark hair and even darker eyes filled with intelligence. Ezra had no doubt he had no difficulty with filling his bed at night for he held the persona of someone who was always cool under fire and used to getting what he wanted.
Without even being introduced, Ezra knew he was looking at Hannibal Julius.
However, the gambler was too much the consummate professional to reveal he was aware of the man’s identity. Ezra made his way to the table where an empty chair beckoned those who were brave enough to join the game. He was aware he was being observed as approached, and the intensity of their scrutiny increased a thousandfold as he neared their leader. In particular, by the two men who flanked Julius at the table. Ezra sat down without asking, drawing Julius’s attention to him. Fortunately, the dealer just completed the last set with Julius winning his money back while the others were seeing theirs swept away by the house.
"Deal me in my good man," Ezra said confidently while reaching for the money he always tucked away as the tools of his trade.
"I do not believe you were asked to join us, Sir," Julius commented.
"I do not believe your permission is required." Ezra saw the dealer glancing anxiously at Julius, clearly worried they were perched on the brink of some unpleasantness.
"I’m afraid at this table it is." The commander of the Citadel repeated, sitting straighter in his chair and focussing his full attention on the newcomer.
"And I am afraid I have the right to utilise these facilities as freely as the next man, but if you wish to take issue with that, I have no objection."
The dealer continued to mete out the cards, his hands trembling slightly as he tried not to show fear at the possibility of escalating violence. Ezra ignored the threat in Julius’s voice even though he was poised to react if the man wished to take the matter further.
"My men are all around you," Julius responded, still using that calm voice. "What chance do you think you will have against all of us?" His eyes shifted away from the gambler long enough to rest on the faces in the gambling house. Ezra's eyes remained on his cards, not even bothering to look up or acknowledge the threat.
"Not much," Ezra said smoothly. "But when this becomes a shooting match. I will not aim for them, just you."
The two next to Julius started to rise when the man himself gestured them to remain seated and regarded the interloper once again before erupting into laughter. It was a short laugh but enough to diffuse the situation as Julius composed himself and remarked. "You are a brave man, I’ll give you that." A smile crossed his face. "You may stay."
"Thank you," Ezra answered politely, not about to rekindle the tension by being rude.
"I am Hannibal Julius," the man motioned his bodyguards aside so that he could have a clear line of sight with Ezra when he extended his hand. "You are?"
"Ezra Standish." Ezra lowered his cards long enough to return the handshake.
"So Mr Standish," Julius studied him. "What’s a southern gentleman doing out here in the Territory?"
"Trying to earn a living," Ezra admitted. "I am a professional gambler, and small forgotten backwaters like these are my trade."
The dealer stopped what he was doing, not about to anger Julius by interrupting him with mundane matters like the game while the man was conversing with the stranger. After the near-miss, the dealer was simply grateful he was still alive and did not want to quibble with the details.
"Hardly seems like a dignified way to make a living." Julius pointed out.
"I have never been partial to menial labour," Ezra responded with a sigh. "Although I sometimes take on work as a hired gun."
"Really?" The man’s interest was sparked on that statement. "Are you fast?"
"So they tell me." Ezra finally met his gaze. "However, if you would like a more accurate definition of that, I am pleased to say that if I had in mind to take offence at your earlier behaviour, I would have you and your bodyguards before the rest of your men could take me."
"It’s just a lot of talk." One of them declared.
"Now it's not nice to assume someone’s lying before they’ve had a chance to prove it, Thomas." Julius was in mid-sentence when Ezra sprang like a coiled serpent. Moving in a blur, the gambler had a tiny derringer aimed at Thomas while his Remington was aimed at the other man at Julius's side. The dealer stumbled away from the table, trying to avoid the gunfight poised to erupt. Throughout the room, the rest of Julius’smen were on their feet ready to shoot until Julius grinned even wider.
"Stand down!" He barked, wanting no one to act rashly when it was apparent the gambler was simply making a point. Thomas swallowed visibly, staring down the barrel of the small weapon which was still capable of taking his life.
"Was than an adequate enough demonstration for you?" Ezra wore a perfectly innocent expression on his face despite the fact he almost brought the room to a state of pandemonium.
"Bravo!" Julia applauded. "Nicely done."
"Thank you." Ezra tipped his hat and withdrew both guns before sitting down again. Thomas and his fellow protector gave him a venomous look at being humbled in front of their leader. "Leave us," Julius ordered.
Thomas opened his mouth to argue, but the look he received from Julius about such a course forced his silence immediately. In a few seconds, both men withdrew, leaving Julius alone with Ezra. They retreated to the bar, joining their comrades who would no doubt console them for their embarrassment at the hands of this gambler who captured their leader’s interest.
"Tell me, Mr Standish, do you ever crave to be part of a cause greater than yourself?" Julius asked.
"I am afraid after the last war, I am spent on such idealistic notions," Ezra replied, suspecting he might be on the cusp of being recruited.
"That is unfortunate because I require a man like you. Talented, obviously learned and resourceful. You could come far with us." He looked at his men to show Ezra the scope of the word ‘us’.
"What exactly do you mean by far?" Ezra inquired. "When I fought for the Confederacy, they preached we would have a free South, and now after much death and bloodshed, we are still under the yoke of the damn Union. I am not a believer in slavery, I abhor the practice, but the right to live as one wishes should not be dictated to by any state." Of course, he felt nothing like this at all, but for the purpose of the illusion he was creating for Julius, it was necessary to tell Julius what he would like to hear.
"I agree totally," Julius returned. "What would you say if my idealistic notions, as you put it, would see an end to the Union and allow every man to live as he wishes? No matter what the colour or creed."
"I would say," Ezra said with a smile. "That I am interested."
***********
By the time the lawmen and the General finished with the bodies, gathering the dead and leaving them covered beneath the canvas previously occupied by the nitro, it was almost dawn. Everyone wanted to get home for some well-needed rest. Still, after what they saw at the camp, sleep was not going to come easily with the images of so many dead, fresh in their minds. Buck was putting up at Julia Pemberton’s, since Inez and the baby were already there, while Vin returned to Alex’s home since there was no shack at the ranch for him to occupy. Deciding Mary was right when it came to family, Chris invited his father home for the night, offering him the spare bedroom that was his sleeping place since the General arrived. Chris intended to apologise to Mary for everything, aware he had been stubborn and surly since this all had started. She had been right to do what she had, because Lord knew he would have let it simmer until the situation became intolerable or went away, unresolved.
"I can go back to the hotel," Larabee remarked as they sighted the building Chris called home. "Its no trouble."
"This is closer," Chris replied wearily. He was exhausted and longed to slip beneath the covers with Mary to feel her warmth against him while he whispered his apologies in her ear for being such a disagreeable bastard. "Besides, Mary didn’t like you staying at any hotel. You know how women are."
"It has been a while," Larabee said with a smile. "But I do remember."
"I’m surprised you didn’t get married again," Chris remarked, never having the courage to say this to his father when he was younger but as Mary and so many others had told him of late, things changed and so did people.
Larabee did not seem offended by the inquiry and realised Chris was probably the only person he would have tolerated such a question. Everyone else would have been told to mind their own business. "Your mother was enough. I don’t need to replace her." He said shortly and hoped that would be the end of the subject. In truth, Brigid Larabee’s death was something that he never allowed himself to get over. He still loved his wife, even though she was gone for years and was perfectly content to live his life alone. Besides, he could not imagine any other woman calling herself Mrs Marcus Larabee.
For once, Chris felt he had some advice to offer on the subject. "I used to feel that way too. When Sarah was gone, I couldn’t even imagine having a family again. I couldn’t stand feeling the same hurt again, but then I came here and met Mary. I knew the moment I met her, I was either going to kill her or marry her."
The General chuckled softly. "There are women who do that. Your wife is one of them. Not many women could manage in a place like this," he surveyed the town as they approached the house when the rear. "She is something to be able to do that."
"You don’t know the half of it." Chris drawled as he pushed open the gate leading into the small patch of garden around their house. As Chris rounded the building, he noted there was darkness peeking through the windows and that put him on guard, even there was no reason for alarm. Yet his instincts nagged at him, and the feeling that was always a prelude to something sinister began to intensity. Hastening his pace, Chris did not make mention of his suspicions to his father, more focused on getting into the house when he realised the front door was wide open.
Darkness gaped back at him through the open door when there should have been a light left burning for him in the kitchen. It was Mary’s habit to leave at least one lamp for him whenever he was expected back late. Chris could have dismissed the absence of that familiar candle in the dark but coupled with the back door staring at him, he knew something was wrong. He didn't even realise he started until he was through the front door and shouting.
"Mary!"
There was no answer.
By now, even Larabee had seen enough to convince him there might be cause for alarm. He followed closely as Chris ran through the house, calling for his wife only to be greeted by that damnable silence. Pausing at a lamp, the General flooded the house with light after lighting the thing. Meanwhile above him, Chris's footsteps were stomping across the ceiling. As he continued further into the home, Larabee repeated the process of illuminating the rooms, wanting to learn what might have happened here tonight. There were no signs of violence here, but it was clear something was amiss. An almost full cup of cocoa sat on the table, now cold. What had taken her away kept her from finishing it?
Chris ran to the bedroom, knowing already she was gone. Otherwise, Mary would have answered him already. The only thing worse than her absence was the possibility she could not answer at all. Bursting into their bedroom, Chris saw the bed was still made but no signs of Mary. His heart pounded in his chest, as the sheer horror of what might have happened to Mary, suddenly impressed itself upon his mind. At that moment, he remembered his son and started for the boy’s bedroom when suddenly the door open quietly. Billy emerged from the darkness, tears glistening his face as he ran into Chris’s arms and embraced his stepfather.
"Pa!"
Billy called Chris that some times when the child was terribly afraid or when he woke up from nightmares, forgetting in his fear, the man he clung to for comfort was not his father.
"Billy!" Chris let out a sigh of relief, seeing the boy was safe even though the whereabouts of Mary left him beside himself. "Are you okay, pard?" Chris asked, composing himself as best he could because the boy needed him to be strong.
"He took her Chris!" The child burst out, wiping his tears from his red cheeks as he stuttered in the best explanation he could give about what happened to his mother. "I woke up when I heard ma trying to tell the man not to take me. I didn’t want him to hurt her so I climbed out the window and hid so he couldn’t find me!"
"Who Billy?" Chris asked, hoping against hope it was not who he suspected.
"Bellison." The name escaped Billy like he was holding his breath. The boy had forced himself to remember every detail because when Chris came home, he would have to tell Chris so they could find ma again. "Ma called him Mr Bellison."
Chris closed his eyes slowly as he came to grips with what he prayed was not true, but in truth, could not be anything else. The air was forced out of his lungs as a silent cry of despair ran through his soul. He could feel the return of black abyss that was his constant companion following Sarah’s death, harkening its return in a taunting voice.
Disconnect it, he told himself. Disconnect it, or you’re never getting Mary back.
By this time, Larabee came up the stairs and saw Billy was safe but knew the situation was far from good. The expression on Chris’s face had more power to frighten him than anything he saw seen in nearly four decades of military service. It was an expression devoid of emotion, with a detachment familiar to stone killers who used to murder without any feeling or conscience.
"They’ve got her," Chris said merely straightening up, with Billy still in his arms. The boy was clinging on to Chris for dear life, his head leaning against his stepfather’s shoulder, trying not to be afraid his ma was gone and believing with all the might in his small body Chris would bring her home.
"Damn," Larabee whispered softly.
"It was Bellison," Chris answered, his face was a mask of stone and knew if anything happened to Mary, there was nowhere on this earth Bellison or Julius could hide Chris would not find them and end them both.
"They must have come here straight after stealing the nitro," Larabee commented.
"It's either or warning for me to let it go or revenge," Chris stated, hoping it was the former. A warning for the lawmen to keep away hinged on keeping Mary alive for the leverage to hold, however, revenge did not require Mary’s continued existence. There was enough history between himself, Bellison and Julius to warrant them being spiteful enough to kill her for what they had endured in prison. However, Chris had to believe Bellison timed his kidnapping with the theft of the nitro for a reason. "For now, I’ll take it as a warning."
"What do you want to do?" The general asked because Mary was his wife.
"First I’m going to take my son someplace where he can get some sleep," Chris said, putting on a confident face for Billy’s sake even though he was quivering inside. Not since that nightmarish business with the portal buried in the desert, did Chris feel such fear for Mary's life. If she died, there would be no miracle sarcophagus to restore her life or the life of their unborn child. He would lose them both forever.
"Don’t leave me, Chris," Billy whined terrified of losing his stepfather now his mother was taken by the bad man.
"Hey, pard," Chris’s hardened mask wavered just enough to show warmth for this little boy who was just as precious to him as his mother. The healing process in the wake of Sarah and Adam’s death had as much to do with Billy as it had with Mary. "I ain’t leaving you, but I got to go find your ma. Now, I’m gonna take you to Julia’s." Chris hoped the emporium owner would not mind having a full house, although Billy’s infatuation with her might appease him a little. "Julia will look after you while I’m gone, but I promise you, when I come back, your ma will be with me."
***********
Less than half an hour later, the rest of the seven were congregated in the parlour of Julia Pemberton’s house. The lady took the liberty of putting Billy to bed while the men gathered to discuss the situation. Chris felt it was rather a redundant gesture when he planned on riding out of town right now to Purgatory and kill every man present until someone told him where Mary was. He was riding the barest edge of control, and as he paced the floor of Julia’s parlour, the rest of the seven could see how dangerous their leader was in his present state.
Even his father.
"We ought to get going now," Chris said in a low voice that did not leave room for discussion or negotiation, just obedience.
"Pard," Vin spoke up, always having the power to soothe the beast within Chris when it was unleashed, although this time, it was going to be problematic with the rage he could see in Chris’s eyes. "Ezra will be back in a couple of hours. We ought to wait until then to see what he knows. If we go rushing into Purgatory with our guns blazing, she’s gonna get hurt."
"She’s gonna get hurt even if we don’t go!" Chris shot the tracker a look. "We shouldn’t be wasting jawing about it when she’s out there!"
The others recoiled slightly at the fury in his voice and knew to provoke it was unwise, but Vin was not about to be intimidated. It was one thing that made him stand apart from the others in his relationship with the gunslinger. Vin Tanner refused to tread lightly around Chris Larabee when the truth needed saying. "Chris I know how you feel….."
"You don’t know a damn thing about how I feel!" Chris nearly roared. "It ain’t your wife out there! Its mine!"
"Keep your voice down goddamn it!" Buck hissed angrily, inspired by parental concern to speak up. "There are kids in the house, and you’re probably scaring Billy half to death!" The lawman was sure Chris’s outburst was echoing throughout the place and would reach the young boy who was afraid enough as it was about his mother’s life without hearing his father becoming unglued as well.
"Don’t tell me about my son!" The gunslinger took a threatening step towards Buck and Vin was at his side immediately to stop the advance by taking a firm grip on his arm, keeping Chris from going any further. Chris swatted the tracker’s hand away, all kinds of dangerous emotions coursing through his veins by the intrusion. He whirled around to face Vin, forgetting all about Buck as he glared at his best friend with a glint in his eyes that could only be considered murderous. Vin was not about to let him continue the way he was and grabbed his shoulder again. Everyone was on their feet, aware that this was about to become very ugly.
"Take… your…. hands…. off….me….now." Chris growled in a tone that was feral in its threat.
"Or what?" Vin demanded, aware that his friend had gone over the edge and only reason by those around him was going to pull him back.
"Or I’m going to….."
"That’s enough, CHRISTOPHER!" Marcus Larabee snapped, raising his voice in a seldom-seen manner but one that no one could ignore once exerted. He strode forward and pulled both men apart as if he were separating two sparring children and shoved them aside. When Vin had stepped away, Larabee turned on Chris who still looked nearly savage, and nothing at all like the son the General had sent off to the Academy, fresh and ready to take on the world. It tore him apart inside to see what twenty-one years had done to his boy, but he knew if he did not act now, Chris would do something they would both spend the next twenty-one years regretting it.
"Cool off." He ordered. "You’re running on anger, and all you’re going to do if you ride into Purgatory is get yourself and your men killed. You’re no good to your wife the way you are, and if you can’t handle the situation, you will stand down and leave it to those of us who can."
Chris bristled in anger about to respond in kind when he realised his father was right. His eyes swept across the room and saw the friends whose worry for him was etched on their faces. There was shock and fear in JD who idolised him, to the understanding in Josiah, and the anxiousness in Nathan who was unnerved by the gunslinger's fury. Buck appeared relieved the tension passed while Vin stared at him with the same resolute expression the tracker wore whenever he was determined to see something through, no matter how foolhardy it was. They were his friends, who feared for him as much as they feared him. Engendering such emotions in the family who were as close to him as the man who finally forced him to see reason, caused Chris to turn away in shame.
"Vin, Buck," Chris swallowed hard. "I’m sorry." He said in a hoarse voice, unable to believe those words could be so painful to say.
"Its okay Chris," Buck smiled, glad the moment was behind them. For a minute, he was not sure how far things were going to deteriorate. He had not seen Chris this enraged since before the gunslinger had come to Four Corners when he would put a bullet into a man just for looking at him wrong. "If it was Inez, I can’t say I would be feeling any different."
Vin did not make any comment, merely taking the apology with a gentle nod of acknowledgment.
Larabee let out a deep breath, relieved that the tension was over for now and then returned to the situation at hand because all were still shell shocked from the fight that almost was. "Now you got a man in Purgatory gathering intelligence," the General said to Chris and pulled his son further out of the red haze of rage that almost overtook him a few minutes ago. "I say, let him do his job. If he is meant to be back in a few hours, then let’s wait this out. If he has not found anything, then we will go to Purgatory, and this time, we won’t ask as nicely. Is that alright with you?" The General stared at Chris.
Chris nodded. "That’s fine with me. But if Ezra doesn’t come back when he’s supposed to, then I’m going to Purgatory and hell is coming with me."
***********
"Well Ezra," Hannibal Julius looked across the table at him through a glass of red wine and asked. "You have heard my proposal, might I entice you to join my little organisation?"
Ezra, who joined the leader of the Citadel for dinner after spending most of the day in the man’s company regarded the question carefully after absorbing much of the politics making up the doctrine of the Citadel. "It is a fascinating offer, but while I am interested in the position, I am not entirely converted in the ideology. Do I need to be a true believer in qualifying as a viable candidate?"
Julius leaned back into the chair of the dining table in the suite of rooms he occupied in what was possibly the best hotel in Purgatory. While its premises was hardly luxurious, it was spacious and afforded its occupier the trappings of opulence by the pretext of civilisation that was scattered about in the worn divans and cheap replicas of antique furniture, like the dining table that they were now sitting before. Judging by Julius’s conversations during most of the day, the gambler discerned the man was starved for intellectual exchange not afforded by the assortment making up his ‘cult’. Undoubtedly, Julius was the product of an expensive education, evidenced by the broad range of topics discussed from the decline of western civilisation in Julius’s opinion to the works of Shakespeare.
"Fortunately, conversion is only a prerequisite for the lower echelons of my new order. I prefer to rely upon the intelligence of my inner circle rather than their belief." Julius responded to his earlier question about becoming a member of the organisation to which Ezra believed had a very select membership if one wished to be more than just a foot soldier.
"In that case, I find myself unable to turn away in the face of opportunity," Ezra replied taking a sip of this mediocre red cabernet he was forced to imbibe but supposed in Purgatory, wine of any distinction was something of a luxury. "What exactly do you require of me?"
"I require you to keep an open mind," Julius remarked and gestured to the guards who had been present at all times during the evening to leave. They had stood at the doorway to the suite and had counterparts stationed on the other side of the wall, ensuring no harm came to their master and Ezra was confident they were all willing to die in defence of his physical being.
"I keep an open mind about most things," Ezra answered smoothly; not about to cause ripples when he was so close to being let into the inner sanctum of Julius’s intentions.
"Not so fast," the man remarked, sitting up in his chair and staring at Ezra so the gambler could not make any mistake regarding the nature of what was being asked of him. "Once you are let in, there is no going back. I am opening up to you a world of possibility, where at my side you could literally hold this country in the palm of your hand. When my message spreads across the sea in the future, perhaps the world. You must understand all you know before this moment is ended like a page turned. The opportunity I am offering you is to be taken or not to be taken, there is no in-between."
"And if I choose not to accept?" The gambler looked at Julius; glad he was still armed even though Ezra knew should he harm the man, he would not leave this room alive. Still, he had enough bullets to ensure he was not taken without a fight, and the last one could always be reserved for himself. If worse came to worse, Ezra prefered to take a gentleman’s way out.
"If you choose not to accept?" Julius shrugged. "Then we finish this delightful meal before us, and I bid you adieu when the evening is done before we go our separate ways. No hard feelings."
Somehow Ezra was sceptical of it being so straightforward. However, he was playing the part of someone actually considering Julius's proposal. "Those are agreeable terms. However, I must ask a question, and I pray that you appreciate my reasons for the inquiry."
"I am intrigued." Julius leaned forward, not expecting any further questions to be asked of him now they were poised on the edge of decision.
"I can partake of my trade-in any gambling houses scattered across the Territory, but I chose to come here for a specific reason today." Ezra began, hoping the truth within the lie would help strengthen the illusion as well as answer some questions he knew Chris Larabee would ask later on when the gambler saw him again. "There was a young lady, I would not say that I was overly affectionate about her, except maybe I did care a little about her welfare in exchange for all the pleasure she afforded me in the past. I was told that she was killed, I would like to know why. Her name was Maria."
If Julius felt any dislike at being interrogated, he did not show it. Instead, he simply nodded in understanding, considering his answer as Ezra had done so to his proposal earlier.
"I will allow you this indulgence because I see she meant something to you," he said finally. "She was a liability who chose to ally herself with one of my enemies. She was known to pass information to this agent on frequent occasions, and it was in the interest of my organisation that she be removed."
"I always knew her sideline would bring her nothing but trouble," Ezra pretended to sigh with disapproval. "I often told her those who pass information for money do not have long life spans. Unfortunately, the lady could not be convinced otherwise." He paused a moment, pretending to deal with what he was told when secretly, Ezra knew Julius had sealed his fate by striking out at Maria because nothing on earth was going to save him from Chris Larabee’s wrath when the gunslinger learnt what he had done. "I thank you for your honestly, Hannibal," Ezra answered finally. "I know you did not have to tell me the truth."
"Those in my organisation deserved nothing less," Julius answered graciously. "The question now lies before us, on whether or not you are to be counted as such."
A further pause followed, and Ezra finally nodded, hoping the deal he made with the devil at this moment did not see himself lose body and soul later. It was mostly his body, giving him the most cause for concern since Ezra had no idea whether or not he still had a soul to lose. "I accept your offer. I want to belong somewhere. I tire of wandering around aimlessly, like some creature lost to service or duty. If you can give me a purpose, then I will pledge myself to you."
Julius burst into a wide grin and replied with nothing less than pleasure. "I knew it!" He laughed. "I knew you could be one of us."
"Now," Ezra joined in his laughter and added. " I am sufficiently intrigued by the enigmatic nature of your earlier statement. What do you mean by keeping an open mind?"
Julius rose to his feet and walked along the table; fingers tracing the wood as he reached Ezra and stood behind him, dropping his hands on Ezra’s shoulders. Leaning close to Ezra’s ear, until the gambler could feel the man’s breath tickling his ear, he spoke. "There are ways to achieve power Ezra, ways reeking of conformity and slavery to an institution keeping out those who should be gods among men while allowing mediocrity to cling to its seats of dominance when it should be cast down by their betters. I am such a god among men." He whispered in words that sounded like seduction
Ezra fought the urge to keep from pulling away, learning something else about Julius making him recoil and re-evaluate his previous estimation of endangering his body and soul by falling sway to Julius’s words. Suddenly, Ezra understood why Julius was so eager to invite a relative stranger into the Citadel and thought furiously as to what he should do. Responding to the man’s advances was unthinkable. However, Julius’s fingers pressed into his flesh, savouring the feel of Ezra’s skin the way Julia might do when she was feeling particularly expressive in her desire for him. Ezra told himself, knocking Julius on his ass was probably the worst thing he could do at this point. Ezra was never one to walk away from an opening (so to speak). If Julius’s intentions for him was what he suspected, Ezra was faced with an opportunity of great value if he could keep his emotions in check and his virtue intact.
Seeing the gambler had not pulled away, gave Julius leave to continue with his caresses and he kept speaking in the soft, taunting voice singing to him like a lover’s kiss while rubbing the skin under the gambler’s crisp white shirt and dark vest with his fingertips.
"I will have my seat on the right hand of God but to achieve that supreme power, I must use any means necessary to cast down those who would presume to be my equal. Those fools in Washington who bicker and argue about how a country should be governed when the only sensible course is by force of arms. I plan to run this nation red in a river of blood, the likes of which has not been seen since Caesar crossed the Rubicon and became an Emperor. I will be an Emperor in this land Ezra, but to do this minor miracle, I must spill blood. The weak must first be purged so that a new order can be established. Are you the strong or are you the weak?"
Ezra felt another shudder of horror, realising he was responding to the man’s touch because there was something in Julius’s voice that was as seductive as his touch. Ezra fought the knot in his stomach, demanding he removed himself from Julius because he was in a position to learn much if he could just endure this. Inwardly Ezra told himself that this was as far as he was going because there was no way in hell, he was laying with a man.
Still, Ezra could understand why so many here were willing to die for him. It was easy to become lost in the glory of what the man was trying to convey. Had the gambler been unaware of what Julius was, he too might have fallen under that same spell. Julius’s gift did not come from his ability to command armies but rather splendid orations capable of reaching into the soul and infecting those who listened to the fervour of his words.
It took all of Ezra’s control to maintain his composure until Julius finally straightened and moved away up but not before touching Ezra’s ear with his lips. Julius circled to the front of a gambler so he could look into Ezra’s eyes face to face to capture his reaction. Considering he was fighting the urge not to get the hell out of there, Ezra believed he managed quite well to look as if nothing about this bothered him.
Strangely enough, it was not the first time Ezra was propositioned in this way. As a youth, travelling with Maude to some of the seamier places she frequented to run her shell games, he met men who were that way inclined. Maude’s reaction to this was nearly wolverine, which explained why she had promptly enrolled him at boarding school for the next few years until she felt it time for him to learn the family trade.
This was the first time he was approached as an adult and knew where his predilections lay to find the whole notion of lying with another man unimaginable. Pulling himself together while trying to keep the mask of rapt attention on his face, Ezra shuddered to think what Julius’s effect would be open those who were more susceptible to his hypnotic and mesmerising power of suggestion.
"I have never counted myself as weak," Ezra said finally. "Nor have I been afraid of getting my hands dirty so to speak. For every great achievement ever undertaken in history, there has been a price to be paid by those who wish to erect an edifice to the magnificent. Caesar did cross the Rubicon, and he did build an empire with his life being the price. To shed the blood of the weak to become a god seems hardly a price as opposed to a requirement."
Ezra’s answer was designed to allow Julius to hear precisely what he wanted to and when the man beamed at him with a smile, Ezra knew he succeeded.
"I knew you would understand." Julius grinned widely. "I knew you were a visionary. I will conquer the world with you at my right hand."
"So," Ezra said with a smile. "Now that I have taken a step towards greatness, what next?"
"Ah," Julius rose to his feet and motioned for Ezra to do the same. "This cannot be explained, it needs to be seen with the eyes," he grabbed a long coat hanging on the wall near the door and slipped it over his shoulders. "Come," he turned to Ezra. "We’re going for a ride."
***********
It was almost three hours later when they arrived at their destination.
They travelled far from Purgatory into what was a harsh no man’s land seldom visited by many because there was nothing of value this far out. It was considered heartless terrain even by those who were accustomed to the severity of life in the Territory. The place was euphemistically nicknamed the Barrens, and it was quite an adequate description. Fifty years ago, the Barrens held life until the coal mining industry, the centre of commerce for the area, withered and died, taking with it the population unable to survive without it. Unfortunately, the open shaft method of mining not only destroyed the local ecology, but the river running through the area which was now full of silt and coal dust, unfit for drinking or farming. With the disappearance of the waterway, went the last vestiges of settlement and thus the Barrens was born.
As they passed towns already taken by the dust storms, the old buildings soon to vanish like the community that abandoned it, there was a sense of eeriness about the place made Ezra shudder. Unfortunately, he wanted to follow this rabbit hole as far as it would lead and thus Ezra forced himself to continue the journey. They were deep into the Barrens when Julius brought him to what appeared to be the abandoned mining facility at the centre of all things here a long time ago. Upon approaching the encampment, Ezra found as a base of operations, it was near perfect. There were miles of tunnels beneath the earth that would be an ideal hiding place if discovered, not to mention this whole area was so inhospitable visitors stumbling across the camp would be far and few.
They rode into camp in the dead of night, arousing very little attention as they entered the perimeter of the facility, penetrating the barb wire fence surrounding the place to keep the few interlopers out. Ezra kept his eye on just how many flickering lights he saw through the windows of the barracks once occupied by miners and saw quite a few. He wondered just how Citadel foot soldiers there actually were and felt rather grateful the army was in Four Corners. There was no way the seven could take on numbers like this.
Julius rode through the track spearing through the camp until they arrived at what must have been the main office since it was the largest building in the facility. As they approached it, Ezra saw the silhouette of something familiar next to the structure. Until they neared it, he could not discern what it was beyond the fact he recognised it. When they finally came close enough for Ezra to make out what it was, he discovered the shapes were in fact wagons, the same wagons he and the rest of the seven spent the last two days guarding.
And they were all carrying nitro.
Fortunately, the darkness kept his surprise from being seen by Julius. Still, Ezra’s mind was working furiously, trying to understand how they managed to wrestle away the shipment from a platoon of soldiers. The terrain where the nitro was stored made it impossible for someone to merely sneak up and steal it without incurring significant losses in the attempt. Suddenly, Ezra felt a cold chill as a possibility of what violence might have been wrought to achieve this minor miracle.
"This is our base of operations." Julius declared proudly as the man dismounted his palomino mare and expected the same of Ezra. Ezra dismounted Chaucer, trying not to stare at the nitro as he tethered the horse to a hitching post and followed Julius up the steps towards the office. They had not progressed very far when suddenly, a man emerged from the building. Even though there was minimal illumination coming from the building, the full moon was out and allowed enough light for Ezra to identify the man.
Bellison.
Fortunately, throughout this entire affair, starting from their initial discovery of the nitro, Bellison had not the opportunity to see Ezra. When Ezra took part in retrieving the wagons, he was too far away from Bellison to identify him clearly before the man was forced to flee with Chris Larabee in pursuit. Since all of his men were still incarcerated in the Four Corners jail, Ezra could be assured of his anonymity because the lion’s den was the last place he wanted to be when they discovered him to be the enemy.
"Samuel!" Julius called out, meeting his trusted lieutenant with a pat on his shoulder. "I see you have retrieved our property."
"Yes, Commander," Bellison nodded but was more interested in the stranger behind him and quickly estimated the reasons for his presence by his pretty-boy looks and fancy clothes. Shrugging off his personal feelings on the matter since genius did not require piety of soul, he looked at Julius for an introduction. "It went as well as you instructed. There was little resistance when we rode into the camp."
Ezra tried not to pay attention, appearing indifferent to the conversation even though he was absorbing every word and was burning with curiosity as to the specifics of the discussion, mainly since the nitro was here.
"And the other matter?" Julius asked, unafraid of hiding anything and upon reflection, Ezra decided he had no reason to be concerned because if Ezra was proven to be false, he would never leave this place to tell anyone what he knew.
"It went smoothly," Bellison answered with a smile. "The woman is here."
"This evening just gets better doesn’t it," Julius smiled as if he were a boy who had been given an excellent series of Christmas presents. Turning to Ezra, he motioned the gambler over. "Samuel, this is Mr Ezra Standish, he will be joining us."
Bellison rose a brow at that statement, assuming Ezra was brought here merely for the purpose of Julius’s amusement, not to be given candidacy in their organisation. "Joining us, how?"
"Mr Standish is extremely talented with a good head on his shoulders," Julius remarked, continuing up the stairs and gesturing for both of them to follow. "We need to broaden our hierarchy if we are to conquer the world Samuel and foot soldiers will not do."
Bellison clearly did not like the explanation no matter how much the Commander believed otherwise and revealed his dislike by giving Ezra a dark look as they passed through the front door of the office and entered the building. Ezra knew Bellison saw him as something of a threat and so he would have to be extremely careful around the man to not arouse any more suspicion than Bellison already felt towards him.
The interior of the office was converted rather impressively into living quarters fit for a god, with rooms furnished with expensive rugs and genuine antique furniture. By the looks of it, Julius had been established here for quite some time. If not for the accidental discovery of the nitro being transferred overland, it was likely none of the seven would have any clue as to the existence of this dangerous militant group. The organisation, as Julius explained, was still in its infancy. Despite the number of its members, Ezra was grateful the seven discovered its existence before it was allowed to grow any larger.
"So where is our guest?" Julius asked, making no attempt to explain what was happening the Citadel's newest member.
"I had her put in your quarters," Bellison answered. "I assumed you would want to see her as soon as you got back."
"You know me too well, Samuel," Julius smiled and looked over his shoulder at Ezra. "Mr Bellison here has been my faithful companion for a great many years. You may trust him with your life even though he is not as versed in the academic arts as you and I."
"That is not a failing I will not be able to live with," Ezra said casually, hiding how anxious he was to see this lady Julius had waiting for him in his quarters. Since she was mentioned, Ezra had a terrible premonition of something ominous about to emerge from the shadows. He continued walking up the corridor, and Ezra held back, ensuring he was the last person to enter the room so that if his worst suspicions were confirmed, he would be able to act and save both of their lives.
"You have selected to join us at a most exciting time," Julius continued to speak enjoying the chance to show off a little. "In two days, we are going to make our first strike against the oppressors who are suffocating this nature and serve notice that we have arrived."
"Commander," Bellison responded. "There is no need for us to go into details right this minute."
Bellison had no intention of passing vital information to someone who had yet to prove himself worthy enough for such information.
"Of course you are right," Julius replied good-naturedly and gave Ezra a long look. "We will have plenty of time to talk about this later."
Ezra prayed inwardly talk was all that Julius had in mind.
***********
Mary did not want to show her fear, but the truth was, she was terrified.
As she heard the footsteps approaching the door to the room she found herself confined since her arrival here at gunpoint from Four Corners, Mary felt another surge fear for the safety of herself and her unborn child. At least, they did not get their hands on Billy, Mary thought to herself, taking comfort in that small consolation. She had no idea where Billy hid, but she hoped he remained there until Chris came home. As she thought of her husband, she could not imagine what the effect of her kidnapping would have upon Chris Larabee. He would be no doubt tearing the countryside apart, attempting to find her.
Bellison said very little to her, except to make the occasional threat to coerce her into cooperating during their journey here. She did not know where they were, but the duration of the trip told her she was some hours away from Four Corners. Their trip was undertaken entirely in the dark so Mary saw very little of the land which might have otherwise helped her to identify where she was going. Although they made no attempt to tie her up after leaving her in this room, she knew there were guards outside the door, and there were no windows for her to make her exit. Realising that it was wiser for her to cooperate than give them trouble, Mary placed herself in a wing chair next to a lavish four-poster bed inside the room that was her cell.
The first man to enter was obviously the leader, for Bellison stood behind him in a clearly secondary position. This must be Julius, Mary thought and decided Chris’s description was not far wrong even though he did not seem like an incompetent. He must have possessed a formidable organisational acumen to build the power base she now found herself surrounded. However, her eyes widened at the sight of Ezra following them both, and the gambler met her gaze long enough to convey the secret plea to keep their association a secret. Considering both their lives depended on it, Mary obeyed and hid all expression from her eyes as she regarded Julius who walked towards her.
The Citadel's commander did not speak for a moment, content merely to study the wife of his hated enemy. Mary felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end from his close scrutiny. Mary felt a little better knowing she was not wholly alone even if Ezra was hardly in the position to provide an escape at the moment. Still, knowing he was here was comfort enough when all she felt her doom pressing against her only a short time ago.
"Well I must give the lieutenant some credit," Julius remarked, observing Mary like she was a prized horse or some animal on display. "He does have impeccable taste. You are an extraordinarily beautiful woman Mrs Larabee."
"What do you want from me?" Mary demanded, trying to be brave but unable to deny she was more frightened by his compliment than anything else because that could be a prelude to a fate even worse than death.
"She is beautiful, isn’t she?" Julius asked Bellison for his opinion on the subject and then left his gaze shift, downwards a little and remarked. "And she is also with child. Larabee’s undoubted. An unexpected boon."
"If you hurt me…." Mary started to say.
"Rest assured madam," Julius remarked as if amused by her spark. "If I choose to hurt you, there is no one here who will lift a finger in your defence. However, my inclination is not that way directed for the moment." He answered, walking towards the table at the far corner of the room, holding a snifter of cognac and glasses for the purpose. "I require you as insurance, so your husband stays out of my affairs for the duration. Make no mistake on the fact that a day of reckoning is approaching between Lieutenant Larabee and myself but that day has not arrived. You will remain here until I have no longer any use for you and if you give me once ounce of trouble, I swear to you Madam, that you will become personally acquainted with every man in this camp, do I make myself clear?" He shot her a look of pure ice with enough menace for Mary to know that he meant it.
Ezra watched helplessly, seeing the terror in Mary’s face and wanting more than anything to take away that fear with some decisive action. Unfortunately, for the moment, there was very little he could do without endangering them both. As hard as it was for her to endure it as it was for him to stand by and do nothing, Ezra knew they had no choice but to bide their time.
He prayed it was not a hope in vain because Ezra could not look Chris Larabee in the face if he had to bring the gunslinger news both the women he cared for were dead.
When the Klan had come to Four Corners, and Ezra was forced to infiltrate the organisations to discover the dark intentions of Nicholas Serfonteine and his minions, he thought he could not ever be called onto play a more odious part. Now as he found himself within the private quarters of Hannibal Julius who was at this moment, having a private discussion with his lieutenant, Bellison, Ezra knew that he would have to re-evaluate the standard of odious when it came to his role-playing. With Mary kept prisoner in the adjoining room, Ezra knew when Chris Larabee found out that she was gone, if Chris did not already know, the man would literally tear Purgatory apart to retrieve her. He would do so with no concern about the tremendous odds against him and most likely get himself killed in the process.
Thus, the gambler was left with little alternative but to free Mary and to do it soon.
He had two assets on his side in coming to this determination. One, Julius would not be expecting a rescue. The location of his camp was so cleverly hidden save the torture of his men, there was no way Chris could find his way here, and thus Ezra had the element of surprise. Two, as much as Ezra loathed to admit it, the man was attracted to him. As repulsive as that might seem to him, Ezra knew he would have to play up that attraction to rescue Mary. He kept telling himself as he removed his burgundy coat and draped it on the nearby bedpost he was only going to play along with Julius long enough to catch the man off guard.
Of course, telling himself this and trying not to be revolted by it was another thing entirely. Ezra understood now Bellison was suddenly so when Julius announced he was to be more than just a visitor but a member of the organisation. Obviously, Julius had entertained before, and Bellison had until that moment, assumed Ezra to be only another one of many paramours who spent time in Julius’ sheets. While Ezra had no prejudice against such inclinations, he knew it was not for him.
As he sat on the wing chair Mary had occupied during Julius’s audience with her, he kept glancing at the door she had been taken through and knew the poor woman was probably terrified with fear after Julius’s threat to hand her to his men. Fortunately, Ezra knew Mary was not foolish enough to try such a thing after seeing him there and hoped she would keep that in mind over the next few hours. The late hour of the evening ensured there was no other sound through the building, and as he listened carefully, he could hear footsteps approaching. Julius and Bellison had disappeared for a while, no doubt to take stock of the nitro that somehow found its way back to them after inviting Ezra to wait in this room and get ‘comfortable’.
Ezra had no allusions what that meant.
Suddenly, he heard voices talking and footsteps approaching. Silently, he rose to his feet and went to the door, pressing his ear against the polished wood surface as he listened carefully to the conversation taking place on the other side. The voices were far away at first, but because audible as they approached the door. Ezra could hear Bellison and Julius's voices clearly. Bellison ensured Julius keep silent about their plans for the nitro earlier and Ezra had limits as to what he was willing to do to coax Julius to reveal the information to him. Thus, eavesdropping seemed to be the only means left to him, and Ezra hoped it was enough. Whatever the Citadel was planning appeared imminent and Ezra had the feeling if he did not find out what their intentions were, everyone was going to have cause to regret it bitterly.
"I think you are overly paranoid, Samuel." Ezra made out Julius's voice saying clearly to Bellison. The impatience in his voice was evident.
"You have no idea who this man is Sir." Bellison pointed out, and it did not take any feat of genius for Ezra to know that he was the subject of discussion. "Simply letting him into your plans because you want him is dangerous."
"I have a feeling about him," Julius countered, the offence in his voice not yet distinct but it was there, and Bellison must be aware he was riding the barest threads of his master’s impatience. "However, if you believe that caution is required, I will respect your decision. There is no need for him to know what we are planning in two days at the railroad camp."
Railroad camp? Ezra thought furiously, was that the purpose this exercise? Julius claimed he needed bloodshed and to inflict the first strike upon the government to serve notice that the Citadel had arrived? Was that the purpose of the nitro, to destroy a camp full of Chinese workers to disrupt the building of the railroad? It did not make sense to Ezra because if it all Julius was planning then he would not need nitro to reach that end when he had more than enough men and guns to accomplish a straight out massacre. There was no need to expend his resources on a large cache of nitro. There was something about it all that did not make sense, and yet Ezra had he needed to about Julius's intended target.
"Thank you, Sir," Bellison replied. "If you don’t mind, I’d like him kept here until after it's over. You can find out how much you trust him after that. We’ve everything we’ve put into this, you don’t want any mistakes."
"You are a venomous creature, aren’t you?" Julius returned as he neared the door, forcing Ezra to begin his retreat. "I had every intention of keeping Mr Standish out of the loop until our business with the railroad is concluded. In the meantime, I will see just how much he is willing to surrender to the cause."
Ezra could not see the smile on Julius’s face, but he could just imagine and told himself silently that he was surrendering nothing.
Knowing that Julius was seconds from entering the room, Ezra immediately returned to the chair quietly. He picked up a nearby book to read and pretended to be flipping through its yellowed pages. The book titled the Twelve Caesars by Suetonius was just the sort of reading material Ezra would expect of a man who considered himself equal to Caesar. Ezra looked as if he were killing time when the door swung open and Bellison entered the room to find him exactly where he ought to be with an expression of expectation on his face Ezra hoped looked convincing.
"I apologise for keeping you waiting, Ezra." Julius smiled at him, a bottle of wine in his hand, which he set down on the same cabinet holding his sifter of cognac. He regarded Ezra for a moment, taking note of the gambler’s jacket draped on the bedpost.
"No apologies are necessary," Ezra remarked with a smile. "I assume it must take quite a bit of time to run all this." He let his gaze sweep across the room even though the scope was far beyond the camp.
"As I said before," Julius said, approaching him. "We intend to take the world. Thus our perceptions and our operations must fit the scale of that desire."
"I appreciate the satisfaction of desire," Ezra said, giving the man a look oozing with suggestion.
"Really?" Julius swallowed as Ezra dropped the book on the side table and stood up.
Ezra braced himself to play the game very carefully because it would require the most exceptional performance of his life to carry out this facade convincingly. Taking a step closer, he narrowed the gap between them until Julius was mere inches away,
"The vintage of that bottle is quite exquisite," Ezra whispered huskily. "Perhaps a glass or two might help things move somewhat easier."
He saw Julius swallowing in reaction to his closeness before the man found voice enough to speak. "Yes, it might at that." He took a step towards the cabinet once again, turning his back on Ezra as he drew away. Ezra took a deep breath, telling himself not to move too quickly because he wanted to ensure Bellison was far enough away from the room before he made his bid to rescue Mary and get out of here with both their skins intact. Unfortunately, filling the space in between the time of her rescue and this point was the most difficult component of the exercise. He knew exactly what was needed to put Julius off guard, and it was not an idle request when he asked for a drink first.
He watched Julius fill two glasses of wine and then return to him, expectation and desire burning in the man’s eyes as he gazed at Ezra. Ezra hid his own anxieties well enough, hoping he was able to quash the natural revulsion he felt. Julius’s eyes were moving up and down his form, and suddenly Ezra had some idea of what women must go through when men regarded them in that way, especially when the attention was unwanted.
"I got this bottle during my trip up north," Julius replied as he handed Ezra the glass, his fingers brushing the gambler’s knuckle as he made the exchange. "I drink nothing but French wine." He remarked as he held the glass to his lips.
"They are the masters of their craft," Ezra answered, holding the glass to his lips and taking a tentative sip. The red wine was delicious, and for a few moments, the air was charged with the electricity of anticipation as Ezra wondered whether he ought to make the first move to get things started or allow Julius to take the initiative. Julius did nothing of the sort, and Ezra grew impatient with the prolongation of this torture before he decided Julius was trying to test him and see how far he was willing to go without being prompted.
"There are other kinds of masters," Ezra said with a smile, removing the glass from Julius's hand and placed it and his own, on a nearby side table before turning his attention to the man he was attempting to seduce. Steeling himself inwardly, Ezra decided he was going to get this over and done with and took a deep breath before crushing his lips against Julius in a searing kiss he customarily reserved for Julia. Forcing himself not to think what he was doing and focussing on the kiss like his life depended on it, which it did really, Ezra delivered a passionate exchange of tongues while trying not to feel repulsed by the feel of stubble against his cheek.
Whether or not Ezra’s distaste for what he was doing showed, Julius, did not notice and was still reeling from the effects of the pleasurable sensation when Ezra pulled back. The man’s eyes were still closed, and the second of distraction was all Ezra needed. Giving him no warning, Ezra slammed his head against Julius’s forehead and sent him staggering backwards too shocked to even utter a cry. Julius blinked in time to see a balled fist coming at him and then another until the black of unconsciousness claimed him and he knew nothing more.
Ezra looked at the crumpled form of Julius for little more than a second before he reached for the glass of wine and took a deep gulp of it until he drained the contents thoroughly. The refined beverage did nothing to quell his distaste for what he just did, prompting Ezra to empty the other glass as well. When both glasses were finally empty, Ezra turned his attention to the unconscious body of Julius and dragged him to the bed before searching for something in which to tie up the man. Julius had more or less assumed he would be spending a night of passion with Ezra and had expressed as much to Bellison, so Ezra doubted if anyone would interrupt them before morning. Finding the cord of smoking jacket hanging on a nearby hook, he used the ornate length of rope to tie up the leader of the Citadel before stuffing his mouth with a handkerchief so Julius would be robbed of speech when he finally woke up.
With Julius dealt with, Ezra went to the door and locked it. He had something of a plan in mind and hoped it would work because he was not quite sure where Mary was beyond the fact she was taken through the other door in the room and assumed that she could not be far. Going to the bureau drawer, Ezra pulled it open and went through the contents, finding what he needed and hoped it would do. Julius’s stature was slight, to begin with, so he doubted the spoils of his theft would not be inadequate for Ezra’s requirements. He left the garments on the chair, retrieved his own coat and then went to the door through where he saw Mary Larabee last disappear.
Opening it cautiously, he saw it empty into the room that was Jullus’s study. Apparently, this wing was dedicated entirely to his use, and Ezra spied a desk and room full of ornate furnishings. Even though he ought to be finding Mary, Ezra could not help but drift towards the large oak desk to study its contents. Whatever Julius was working on had yet to be finalised, but the unrolled plans stretched across the table were clear enough for him to recognise even if he did not understand what all of it meant. The plans were in actual fact, maps, marked in red in places and it took a moment for Ezra to realise it was actually the path of the railway line built over the last few years.
He knew Julius intended destroying the railway encampment with all its workers, Chinese and Caucasian, however, the locations on the plans he was now seeing were nowhere near that place. What did he plan to do at all these locations? Knowing it was probably not the best thing to do, Ezra rolled up the map and folded it as compactly as he could before slipping it into his coat. If they made it out of this place alive, he would need this information to present to Chris Larabee. Leaving the room, since it was folly to delay any more than he had, Ezra peered through the crack of the adjoining door and saw it led to a corridor. One guard stood outside a door further down the hallway, and Ezra guessed that was the most likely location of Mary Larabee.
Her guard did not look very impressive physically or smart for that matter. Ezra hoped his evaluation was correct because he would have reason to regret it if he was wrong. Looking inside the room again, he found a paperweight on the desk and returned to the doorway. Taking a deep breath, Ezra tossed it out in the hallway, creating a loud clattering noise as it skittered across the floor and immediately captured the attention of the guard who was pulled away from his prisoner to investigate. Ezra kept the door closed, waiting until he saw the man’s shadow pass by before he swung it open and moved forward at lightning speed. The guard had barely time to register the footsteps behind him before he felt the impact of a gun butt on the base of his skull and dropped to his knees in dead weight. Ezra wasted no time in dragging his unconscious body into the study and leaving it there. The blow to the head had been hard, and while the guard seemed comatose for the moment, there was no real way of telling how long it would be before he was conscious again and Ezra did not have the time to tie him up.
Crossing the corridor in seconds, Ezra opened the guarded door and slipped inside.
Mary, who was pacing the floor, stopped in mid-step when she saw Ezra coming through the doorway. The room she was held prisoner was furnished quite well, and it appeared Julius intended keeping her for some time.
"Ezra, thank god!" Mary embraced him, and Ezra could not help thinking as he felt her body pressing up against his that nothing could quite compare to having a woman in one’s arms. He could still feel stubble against his cheeks and renewed a fresh bout of distaste, which he shook off because this was hardly the time for it.
"Are you all right, Mary?" He looked her over to assure himself t no harm had come to her.
"Yes," she nodded. "I’m fine. Are we leaving?" She asked hopefully, praying he had a plan because Julius was mad and she hated to think what demands he might make of Chris during her captivity.
"Immediately," he answered and gestured her to follow him as he poked his head through the doorway to ensure the coast was absolutely clear for them to continue any farther. As anticipated, no one appeared to about, and they crossed the corridor into the room where Ezra left Mary’s guard. The man was still unconscious but seeing him sprawled across the carpeted floor, gave Ezra another idea and the gambler dropped to his knees beside the prone figure.
"Mary, take off your clothes."
"I beg your pardon, Mr Standish?" Mary gave him a look.
"Mrs Larabee," Ezra sighed and responded. "You have no idea what I have endured tonight to rescue you but believe me, I do not relish what will happen to me if I am caught offering you liberty. So please take my word for it when I say that you will be divesting your clothing for a disguise and not any sleazy liberties you think me capable."
"Of course," she scolded herself for her foolishness since she ought to know better and immediately moved to the other side of the room as she began removing her clothing while Ezra did the same for her guard. She was stripped down to her underthings when Ezra handed her the bundle of clothing, not needing further instruction than that. He kept his gaze averted as much as possible and turned around when she took the garment from him. While she dressed, Ezra picked up the guard’s hat as well as relieving him of his gun belt. Mary was a good shot, and if they were discovered, he might need the extra firepower.
"Where is Julius?" Mary asked once she was dressed.
"Resting comfortably, I hope, bound and gagged," Ezra answered as he flopped the guards’ hat on her head and immediately prompted Mary to tie her long gold hair into a bun and hiding it beneath the headwear. "Here take this," he handed her the gun belt.
Mary swallowed as she realised what she might be called on to do but brushed away such reservations because the child in her belly would be no one’s creature and deserved a chance of life. Fastening the gun belt to her waist, she followed Ezra, who was preparing to step into the corridor once again.
"How did you manage to knock him out?" Mary asked, wondering how Ezra accomplished the minor miracle of incapacitating Julius when Mary had the impression he was not a man who left himself open to attack by trusting a stranger he could have only met recently.
"I caught him by surprise," Ezra said, clearing his throat, having no wish to go into detail about what he had done to secure her freedom. Suffice to say when he got home, he would spend some time accommodating himself with the more appropriate forms of sexual expression with the correct partner.
"How?" Mary pressed, noticing something in Ezra’s manner that bordered on discomfort. She did not think anything ever got under the gambler’s skin to show so clearly.
"Mary," Ezra looked at her with a frown. "Perhaps we ought to concentrate on our escape rather than the dynamics of how we arrived at this point. I will be happy to answer all your questions when we are far away from this place."
Mary wanted to press, but it appeared Ezra was is in no mood for questions and left it for the moment. However, she told herself he was not going to slither out of it easily if they did return to Four Corners. By now, they emerged into the corridor, but instead of taking the most direct route back to the main exit, Ezra opted to find a back way out of the place. It was inconceivable a structure this size would not have one and prayed he was right about this or else their flight from danger would be savagely curtailed.
Not much was stirring and they able to slip by without notice, saying nothing to each other as they followed the meandering pathway before them. Ezra could tell Mary was afraid and thanked God she was not more heavily pregnant than she already was or else the disguise would not have worked. Despite her fear, Mary held together admirably as always, and Ezra could see what made her so precious to Chris he would do anything to see her safe return.
After what seemed like an eternity, they arrived at a nondescript door seldom by the dust accumulated on it. Ezra turned the lock, praying it was what they sought. When the crack of darkness filtered through the opening, Ezra saw the bright glimmer of stars up above and let out a sigh of relief, seeing this was indeed an exit. Nevertheless, until they reached the horses and put this place far behind them, Ezra was not presumptuous enough to assume they were safe. There were still too many numbers around them for his liking, and if alerted to the escape presently taking place, there was no way Mary or Ezra would make it out alive.
The rear was intended for the miners, but it was accessible to the area where Chaucer was hitched. The barracks were the men were stationed were still with slumber and while there would be a few people about, mostly on guard duty, Ezra knew the chances of making it to his trusted steed was good. Hannibal was utterly confident his bastion of power was still a well-guarded secret, and so the possibility of intruders was remote. They circled the building in good time, and as they neared the front of the structure, Ezra saw Chaucer just where he had left the animal.
"How are we going to do this?" Mary whispered quietly as their escape brought them into the open somewhat.
"There seems to be little alternative but to make the direct approach," Ezra confessed. "Either way we look at it, it is going to be a risky venture. We have nothing to lose." Ezra did not add, however, that if they were captured, she was not going to be the only one who would have to worry about violation.
"You’re the gambling man." Mary sighed and let him take the lead as they stepped out from behind the shadows of the building into the open space before the building.
Two men walking around at night in this place could be easily explained by anyone who saw them and as being nothing more than sentries. Chaucer snorted in recognition as the animal saw Ezra approach and the gambler was just as relieved to see his old friend upon arrival.
"Climb on." He instructed quietly as he untethered Chaucer from the hitching post, his eyes moving about the place, keeping watch for anything unexpected.
Mary obeyed without question and had her hands poised on her weapons, prepared to shoot if any trouble came about unexpectedly before Ezra was able to mount the animal. So far, their actions had gone unnoticed but Mary as not so much of an optimist she believed this could go on indefinitely. They only reason they had not brought the entire camp down on them had to do with luck and nothing else. Ezra came up alongside Chaucer after he freed the animal from the hitching post and pulled himself into the saddle with Mary behind him.
"So far, so good." He said quietly when suddenly, he heard voices emanating from inside the building. Without even needing to listen to the contents of the speech, Ezra knew it was Bellison. He grabbed the reins and dug his heels into Chaucer’s sides, startling the animal into a sudden burst of speed as he saw Bellison emerged from the front of the building. Ezra felt his heart pounding as the man’s gaze met his and with him was the guard, whom he had attacked earlier, still clad in his long johns.
"STOP THEM!" Bellison roared.
Chaucer was already galloping at full stead, and behind him, Mary pulled out her guns and was firing into the night, clearing a path for them as bodies started emerging from the shadows, hell-bent on stopping them. Chris had taught her how to handle weapons and Mary was proficient enough with them to hold her own even if she abhorred having to shoot. Tonight, however, Mary was willing to make an exception. She wasn't even sure she hit anyone as she continued to shoot, while they rode through the main track of the camp, leaving Bellison behind them as the alarm was raised at their escape.
Ezra felt his heart pounding as he pulled out his own gun and added his fire to the formidable defence Mary was mounting by keeping away anyone who might try to stop their departure. He knew that they had to move as quickly as possible because if the signal to close the main gates reached the gatekeepers before they did, then both of them would be effectively trapped inside a net of barbed wire fencing.
"Reload!" Mary called out as her guns went empty and she struggled to stay on the horse behind him while at the same time fumbling for the bullets that were in the gun belt. Unlike the men, she had no skill with this and had great difficulty trying to coordinate her fingers amidst the constant rhythm of Chaucer, galloping forward at top speed throughout the camp. Ezra took up the slack created by her attempts to reload her weapon, aiming with more precision than she and giving good reason for any attackers to keep out of their way.
"We must make it through the gate," Ezra called out as Mary finally finished reloading her gun as Chaucer neared the barrier. Ezra hoped the gate remained open, as it had been when they first rode into the place or they were going to be faced with a new set of problems. Fortunately, at their approach, he was pleased to see it still remained unsecured. While the gatekeepers were aware of some commotion, they were still uncertain what to do, although the horse galloping towards them was giving them a fair idea.
"Mary, aim for the men at the gate!"
Mary nodded wildly and hoped her aim was as good as she thought and started pulling the trigger. Bullets tore through the metal and wood, splintering the fence line as they ducked for cover, trying to escape the barrage. Ezra dug his heels deeper into Chaucer, trying to push the animal even harder because they simply had to clear this obstacle. Once they were through, he was confident they would have enough of a head start to keep out of the Citadel’s reach since hiding from Bellison would impossible when the man was an experienced tracker. Chaucer, perhaps understanding the danger to his master, surged ahead in a burst of speed sweeping them through the gates while both Mary and Ezra continued to fire as the steed carried them to open space.
They continued at that juggernaut pace until the camp became a vague shape in the night, and they could no longer hear the sound of horses in pursuit even though they knew some would be coming. There was no way that Bellison would let either of them go, Ezra knew if Julius discovered the absence of the plans on his desk, the need to retrieve them became more than just a question of vengeance.
Once they put enough distance between themselves and the Citadel camp, they finally slowed down long enough to catch their breaths, for a moment at least. For what he had done to Julius, Ezra was almost as terrified of what would happen to him as what Mary’s fate would be if they fell into that lunatic’s hands again.
"Ezra," Mary said when Chaucer had slowed down and was trotting forward at a more tolerable pace. "Thank you for getting me out of there." She embraced him hard from sheer gratitude. "That man is insane." Mary declared and truly meant it. She had never met someone who was so clinically psychotic in her life, and men like that frightened her to the core.
"You have no idea how much insane pales in true comparison to that individual’s state of mind. We must return to Four Corners immediately, I am afraid that the scope of his plans for the nitroglycerin is far more sinister than we ever imagined."
"Chris said he was crazy," Mary continued to speak. "But God, I never imagined how."
"He intends to launch some twisted new order. Normally I would not give such plans much credence, but he has a manner about him that tends to invite disciples to the cause, and that makes him exceedingly dangerous."
There was something in his eyes, revealing more than just fear at the man’s lunacy, Mary noticed. Something deeply personal, she sensed he did not want to be known. "Ezra, are you all right?"
Ezra nodded slowly, unprepared to tell anyone about what transpired between himself and Julius. Although the encounter was fleeting, it unsettled Ezra to know he had the power to be swayed by words like anyone else. For a man who was accustomed to believing he could see every angle coming and could not be surprised by anyone, Julius shook the core of his self-assurance.
"I am fine Mrs Larabee," Ezra flashed her his typical smug and dimpled smile, trying to brush aside the unease he felt in his bones. He did not know why but somehow, he had this strangest feeling Julius was not done with him, not by a long shot and their next encounter was not going to be as amiable as the first. Julius had let down his defences and trusted Ezra enough to show the gambler his private universe and Ezra repaid that trust by taking advantage of the man’s affection and attraction to him. Some people killed for less than that and Ezra had a feeling he might have supplanted Chris Larabee as the source of Julius’s hatred.
"All right Ezra," Mary nodded, understanding that he did not wish to talk about it even though it was painfully obvious he was anything but fine.
***********
Chris could not sleep.
He paced the back porch of Julia Pemberton’s home after the others had disbanded until morning in anticipation of Ezra’s return, hopefully with news about the Citadel and a possible location where they might find Mary. With Billy asleep in the same room Elena Rose was dreaming her infant dreams, Chris opted to take Julia’s offer to stay the night because he could not imagine going home when Mary was not there. The sight of those empty rooms would break whatever restraint was keeping him tethered to Four Corners and doing something foolish. His father chose to remain at his side, and Chris finally wandered out of the parlour when the man fell asleep in exhaustion.
Chris did not know how long he spent looking into that face, trying to discern how much of him came from Marcus Larabee. They shared the same looks and build, being slender and lean, with dark blond hair and well-chiselled features. Until the general came back into his life, Chris hadn't realised how much he'd inherited from the man. Finally, he left the room, not wanting to disturb the General even though Julia offered them both a bed before going to bed herself.
He knew sleep was impossible while Mary was out there and so he stepped into the night air and looked out into the stars, telling himself repeatedly that if he lost her, he would not know what he would do. Chris could not believe fate would be so cruel to take a wife and child away from him or steal another parent from Billy.
Staring into the night, Chris could smell the light fragrance of Julia’s garden and wondered how she managed to keep the garden in full bloom even though Four Corners was as dry and course as one might imagine of a frontier town.
"Chris?." He heard her voice call behind him and looked over his shoulder.
Julia Pemberton heard the footsteps and assumed it could only be Chris. Even though Ezra being gone could not compare to the kidnapping of Mary Larabee, Julia could empathise slightly with the fear he must be feeling at her disappearance. After hearing about the murder of the army platoon who only today arrived in Four Corners, she knew she did not wish Ezra to be anywhere near their murderers. Unfortunately, danger would always be part of his life, and in this regard, Julia could appreciate something of what Chris must be feeling. She stared at him with concern as she emerged into the night, tying the chord on her silk robe tighter around her waist before running her fingers through her dishevelled hair.
"I’m sorry," Chris apologised, hating to be more trouble after she opened her home to him and his family, especially when she had the Wilmington’s to contend with already as house guests. "I didn’t mean to wake you."
"It's okay," she smiled warmly as if it was hardly a thought in her mind before taking a seat on the steps leading to her garden. "I couldn’t sleep myself. I never do when you men are out there, be it all of you or just Ezra."
Chris regarded her for a moment, realising he did not know much about Julia Pemberton despite her lengthy relationship with Ezra. He knew she had a promiscuous nature and was once a rather calculating creature. In some ways, she still was, but her love for Ezra and being considered one of the ‘family’ tempered her, and she proved herself to be just as reliable as Ezra. She was still very different from Mary though, worldly and cynical to the core, which made him wonder what terrible turns her life had taken upon for Julia to be so jaded about things when in truth she was still a young woman.
"I’m grateful to you for letting Billy and us stay the night," Chris remarked, taking a seat next to her and gazed out in the moonlight garden. "I know you got a full house already."
Julia knew enough about men to understand he was having a great deal of trouble trying to keep his emotions in check. She could hardly blame him, of course. Having lost a wife and son once already to violence, Mary’s abduction must be a nightmare. "It’s kind of nice actually," she admitted. "I had a big family full of cousins and aunts and all kinds of relations, but we were not close, not the way Mary, Inez and Alex are to me. Having you and Billy, along with Inez, Elena Rose and even Buck, is sort of like having that big family again, only better because you all mean more to me than they ever did." Julia surprised herself by saying because Chris Larabee had always intimidated her.
A slow smile crossed his lips, and she knew the expression was rare for him, considering the circumstances. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
"Chris," Julia said seriously. "I don’t know any person more resourceful than your wife. If there is a way for her to come back to you or stay alive long enough for you to reach her, Mary will find it. You have to trust in her ability to keep her head above water."
His jaw tightened as he tried to take her words to heart, and while it may not soothe him entirely, he did appreciate the effort. "Well, she does know how to get in and out of trouble better than any woman I know."
"Besides," Julia continued, pleased that she got a smile out of him or made something of a dent in the rock hard exterior. "Ezra can get anyone to talk when he gets into a card game. I’m sure he’s on his way back here with all kinds of news."
Chris was not about to pin his hopes on that assumption, but he knew he had little choice. Ezra had a manner slipperier than an eel, but if anyone knew how to use that silver tongue of his to gain an advantage, it was Ezra Standish. Strange how when they all first come together, he didn't trust Ezra as far he could throw the gambler and yet it had taken three short years for him to rely upon the man with his life.
"Either than or a pocket full of cash.." Chris pointed out.
"Well," Julia chuckled. "We are talking about Ezra, after all. I love the man, but he loses all good sense the moment he sees loose change."
"I resent that remark." Ezra Standish suddenly declared, paralysing both Julia and Chris respectively when he stepped out of the shadows of the garden. "I only lose good sense when I see dollar green."
Both Chris and Julia were stupefied with astonishment as they saw the gambler come out of nowhere. When sense finally returned to them, they would realise later Ezra had seen the lights dimmed in the house and chose to make a discreet entry through the back door using the key in his possession. It took little more than an instant for Chris's surprise at seeing Ezra’s sudden appearance eclipsed by an even more incredible discovery.
For a moment, Chris felt his breath catch in his throat as he caught sight of the slight figure walking next to the gambler dressed in man’s clothing, not daring to hope it was who he thought. However, the moment she pulled off her hat and let that golden cascade fall around her shoulders, Chris knew it could be no one else.
"Mary!" Chris exclaimed with nothing less than sheer joy as his wife ran into his arms.
"Chris!" She bounded exuberantly towards him. Mary practically leapt into his arms with near girlish delight. Chris swept her off her feet in a powerful embrace, twirling her around once before their mouths melted together in a more passionate greeting. Chris held onto her tight, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him as he held her close. In secret, he thanked God for bringing her back to him and then realised he had a more earthly show of gratitude to make.
"Did he hurt you?" Chris asked, his voice hoarse with emotion when they parted enough to look each other in the eye.
"No," Mary shook her head wildly, gold hair tossing about her shoulders as she responded. "Ezra got me out of there before anything could happen. I wasn’t there for more than a few hours." She said breathlessly, "Is Billy all right?"
"Billy’s fine," Chris assured before pulling her to him again and holding tight because he needed to know she was real and not the product of some dream he was having. "He’s in the house asleep."
"Thank God," she whispered as she savoured the feel of his arms around her and knew that as long Mary could feel them, she would be safe from anything. "I didn’t know where he was, and Bellison didn’t want to look for him."
"He hid out on the window ledge so he could tell me who took you," Chris whispered, glad the darkness was hiding the emotional lustre of his eyes. "He’s a brave boy," he said quietly, lifting her chin with his finger so he could plant a kiss on her forehead. "Just like his mother."
Mary smiled and shifted her gaze towards Ezra and Julia, who were exchanging a passionate greeting of their own. "I can’t take the credit," she confessed. "If it wasn’t for Ezra, I would still be there."
Chris nodded and did not interrupt the gambler and his lady as they exchanged their greetings.
Julia was also wrapped up in Ezra’s arms and was somewhat surprised at the intensity of the kiss he delivered to her when their mouths met. Although she worried about him, she had known he was in no immediate danger, and while she was glad he was back safe, her passion or worry had not been inflamed as Chris’ own had been. Yet when Ezra kissed her, she sensed urgency at his plunder of her mouth, making her question the reason for it. Was it the night's excitement that caused it?
"You okay Ezra?" She asked quietly out of Chris and Mary’s earshot when he finally released her lips from that searing kiss.
A flash of something she could not describe surface momentarily in his eyes and he brushed it away with his usual debonair cockiness. "I shall endeavour to tell you about it sometime." He shrugged away the look of concern in her emerald coloured eyes.
Using the present crisis to evade any further inquiries she might have on the matter, Ezra finally turned to Chris, who was still holding his wife in his arms, no doubt relieved she was returned safe and sound. Despite the happy reunion, what he learned tonight from Hannibal Julius meant the danger was far from over.
"Mr Larabee," Ezra said, still holding Julia in his arms. "We need to get the others immediately, I fear we have something of a minor war to deal with."
"We’ll do that soon enough," Chris nodded, aware Ezra to be this grave, the situation was definitely worse than anyone imagined. Ezra was a cynic through and through who always assumed the worse and seldom allowed it to faze his calm, polished exterior. What Chris saw in his face could not be hidden under the facade of refined civilisation. The man was clearly shaken, and Chris had every reason to trust his belief things were about to go to hell in a handbasket.
However, first things first. No crisis would prevent Chris from thanking his friend for what he had done.
"There ain’t no way I can thank for you for this Ezra," Chris said glancing at Mary and knew this to be utterly true when saw Mary’s lovely face looking up at him. She appeared proud that he was taking the time to express his thanks.
"Well, perhaps a raise the next time we see the judge," Ezra remarked, a dimpled smile crossing his features because he knew such disclosures were difficult for Chris and confessed to feeling a little awkward himself. He often found levity was suitable for such instances.
"You’re a lost cause." Chris laughed softly but not blind to the tactic the gambler was using. Instead, he nodded slightly at Ezra and knew it would be enough for the man to understand how thankful he was for what Ezra had done.
"That sounds like a no, Mr Larabee." Ezra quipped and for the first time since he rescued Mary from the Citadel, felt able to forget his encounter with Hannibal Julius.
"Oh, grow up!" Julia groaned and glanced at Mary. "How on earth did you ever put up with them before the rest of us girls came along?"
"They grow on you," Mary beamed looking adoringly at Chris and then shifting a similar affection gaze Ezra although this one was more platonic. "They grow on you real easily."
***********
The hour was late, but Ezra was right about getting the others once he imparted to Chris what he learnt at the Citadel camp. After rousing Buck and the General, the three lawmen went to summon the rest of their comrades to congregate at Julia Pemberton’s home and discuss the situation. While Mary rested after her night’s adventures, Inez took the liberty of getting some early breakfast prepared for the men. At the same time, Julia minded Elena Rose when the seven got down to the business of discussing their next course of action following Ezra’s return. While no one made mention of it as they congregated in the spacious parlour of Julia’s home, each was glad to see the safe return of Mary Larabee and were equally impressed by Ezra's ability to rescue her alone.
"So they’re going to hit the railway camp?" Buck declared once the news of what Ezra overheard was revealed to the rest of his comrades. As Buck made that statement, Inez handed him a plate of food which he received gratefully by giving her a playful pat on the behind, to which she flashed him a radiant smile before making the same offering to Ezra and others in the room.
"It makes sense." The General answered as he took a sip of coffee. "They want to make an opening statement, something that grabs attention. This is the way to do it."
"That’s right," Chris agreed with his father on that assessment. "Julius wants to take on the government and the railroad, though privately-owned is still sanctioned by the government. It's not just that, though. The West is opening up because of the railroad, In twenty years we ain’t gonna recognise this place and most of this is gonna happen because of the railroad. By going for the railroad, he’s showing that he ain’t just destroying something important, Julius's got the power to shape the country in the way he sees fit."
"Jesus," Vin exclaimed, unable to imagine the megalomania to inspire such belief. "So he’s going to wipe out the railway camp and make his point. There are hundreds of workers out there and if Ezra’s right, almost a hundred of Julius’s men."
"The camp I saw was huge," Ezra confirmed this with a nod as he swallowed the morsel of food in his mouth. "I would say we are facing great numbers here, much more than we seven are capable of handling."
"Well, we’ll get some help from the railroad," Nathan replied, not wishing to admit the situation was as bleak as all that. He knew he was optimistic, but then he knew of no other way to be in a position like this. "They’ve got men there to keep things in line."
"Not enough." Josiah rumbled in his deep throaty voice as he thought about the friends they had at the camp who would be wiped out if Julius’ plan were allowed to come to fruition, in particular, Wo Chin. Wo Chin suffered enough hardship in his life; having been brought to America by his father to work on the railroad, only to lose him to the corruption running rife there. "A lot of the Chinese workers have family with them. We’d either have to move them out or use some of the men to help with the defence."
"What about that army?" JD inquired. "Couldn’t they help?" As he brought up the subject, he could not help being reminded of the bodies they piled together in a heap only a few short hours ago. Remembering what the General had told him to do, JD steeled himself inwardly and closed the door on that image because now was not the time to think about it.
"No," Larabee shook his head in response. "The men who came into town yesterday was from the nearest fort. As it is, they spared every man they had to deal with the nitro. It will take time for them to get reinforcements."
"So it's just us," Chris stated for the benefit of everyone present because that was what they were left with after everything. "Assuming that’s all he’s planning to do."
"That’s all?" Buck looked at the gunslinger, hating to imagine what he could mean by that. "Wiping out a railway camp makes for a pretty busy day, Chris."
"Yeah," Vin voiced his own reservations on the issue Chris had trouble with. "What’s the point of the nitro then? If he was just planning to wipe out the camp, he’s got more than enough men for that. He’s got enough explosives to wipe half the towns in the Territory off the map, and he wanted it back real bad for it to be just for a matter of it being his property. I’d say he’s planning to use it on something and soon."
"Maybe he’s going to use the nitro on the railway camp," JD suggested, unable to fathom the carnage the man was willing to cause for an ideal, if that was this was ever about in the first place and not a grab at feeling powerful when he was nothing.
"Considering how much destruction that would cause, it could be something of the statement he’s trying to get across," Nathan replied.
"For most men maybe but not for Julius," Chris answered gesturing to the map on the table before them. "Whatever has been marked in red on that map is not the railway camp, it’s someplace else, and that worries me."
"Let’s have a look." The General stepped forward as they all surrounded the table and ran their eyes over the plan Ezra had wisely absconded with during his brief time in Julius’soffice.
"It is a map of this general area," Ezra remarked since no one had really had the chance to really examine the thing to any great detail. They were too busy considering their course of action in repelling the coming attack on the railway encampment. As Chris spread out the partially rolled out length of the paper, the seven immediately converged upon it with close scrutiny. Ezra was correct about the locations marked in red. It did indeed span across most of the Territory, in particular, this section of it. Chris could see Four Corners, Bitter Creek and Sweet Water, not to mention a lot of other small towns they all knew from their travels as lawmen in the area.
"I know what this is." Vin suddenly announced and on further reflection it seemed logical the tracker would know the lay of the land a lot better than the rest of them. Chris was grateful Vin’s reading skills had progressed to a point where he could actually read a map as well as this when it was not a long time ago when the tracker relied solely upon his skills and an exceptional memory to get him from place to place. "This is the railway line."
"He’s right." Larabee agreed after a moment and offered the young man a smile. It was uncanny just how much like Chris, Vin Tanner was. In some instance, the General found it easier to deal with the tracker than his son because Vin was more like the way Chris used to be when they had been in each other’s lives. He had a feeling Chris saw this similarity too which had something to do with why Vin seemed to be the only one that could pacify Chris when he was enraged and for that matter, the only one who dared to do it. The son he remembered would keep counsel to himself until he felt it necessary to speak up. Vin was a lot like that.
"It is the railway line, and these red spots are where bridges and major junctures are supposed to be."
"That’s it!" Chris exclaimed, finally understanding the man’s plan. He was not just going to destroy the railway camp but also eliminate any possibility of anyone using the tracks built. "He’s using the nitro to blow up the track at all these points. Making it impossible for the railroad to come through here would effectively halt the progress of the West in its tracks. Sure, even if we get him after he’s done, it won’t change the fact it would take years to replace everything he’s blown up."
"A charming legacy," Ezra replied coldly, remembering the words Julius had used to him. "He did say that he was prepared to run this nation in a river of red."
"God," Nathan swore with disgust. "A fanatic."
"He ain’t no fanatic," Chris muttered with visible anger. "He’s always had this idea he was Napoleon or Alexander the Great reincarnated and he was going to build an empire they way they did. He was next to incompetent when we were on the line but twenty years changes a man."
"You have no idea," Ezra said under his breath and noticed he was getting some odd looks when he realised they all heard him.
"Something you want to tell us, Ezra?" Chris looked at him, aware the gambler was hiding something.
"Nothing of consequence," Ezra replied smoothly, not about to tell anyone just how different Julius was and how he made this discovery. "I merely noticed the man has a great ability at oration that can capture the minds of the gullible. I heard how Bellison addressed Julius when I was at the camp, they really do believe he is the Second Coming."
"Nothing worse than men acting out of faith." Josiah sighed, acquainted with too many like that in his time to be blinded by just how dangerous they could be.
"This isn’t faith," the General stated. "This is for a cause, and that can be worse. Most people don’t kill for faith, but they’ll go to war over a cause."
"So what do we do?" JD inquired, unable to fathom how they were going to deal with this threat. "We can’t be at two places at once."
"More than two," Buck pointed out since the kid had a valid point. "Look at how many circles in red there are."
Chris said nothing at first because he was too busy thinking about the options left to them. There were eight of them including his father, and although he was not too happy about his father being involved for fear of his getting hurt, Chris knew the general would not take kindly to that thinking. As it was, every available man would be needed if they were to lead a two-pronged attack upon the enemy, not to mention making some provision to ensure the women were safe. A silence fell over the room as they all ruminated in secret at their choices and the danger before them when Chris finally made himself heard.
"Sir," he turned to his father. "I need you to go with Buck, Nathan, Josiah and JD to the railway camp. You’re going to have to coordinate with them to get some kind of defence mounted and evacuation, not necessarily in that order. We don’t have a lot of time. I’m going to assume Julius doesn’t know that Ezra overheard him and without that information, Ezra getting his hands on the map is next to useless."
"That’s assuming a lot." Larabee retorted, even though Chris’s judgement was sound.
"It is," Chris nodded in agreement. "However, we don’t have a lot of choices. Vin, Ezra and I are gonna head out to the Barrens. Ezra said the nitro was still there when he and Mary took off so they would have to move it soon. If everything is planned for tomorrow, then it has to be moved tonight and nitro ain’t something that can be moved quickly so they’d have to get moving soon to get to all these places." He gestured at the map.
"I take it we are going to be there to destroy this convoy?" Ezra said coolly, not liking the idea of going back to the camp but aware that it was the only way to handle the situation.
"If we’re lucky," Chris said glancing at Vin because the impetus for destroying the convoy and getting out with their skin intact was going to rely solely upon Vin Tanner’s skill as a sharpshooter. "We won’t be getting close enough to get shot at, at least not until we do what we have to first."
"How reassuring." The gambler remarked, wondering what Chris had in mind.
"One other thing," Chris spoke up. "I want the women moved. All of them, Rain too, Nathan." He looked at the healer. "I ain’t leaving the girls wide open to attack while we’re gone. I can tell you right now, Julius would do that just out of spite and especially if he thinks he’s gonna lose."
"Where do we send em?" Buck asked, perfectly aware of what Chris was saying. He saw Julius put a bullet through Chris's back years ago for the audacity of winning his battle from right under his nose, Buck was hardly surprised at any depths that Julius could sink to.
"The Indian village," Vin suggested promptly. "Chanu and Kojay will make sure they’re safe and hide them if anyone comes calling."
"Good idea," Chris agreed with that. "Get the girls ready to move out before the sun comes out. JD, I think Casey ought to be okay where she is." The gunslinger replied, seeing the concern in the youth’s eyes over her welfare. "Josiah, not many people know about you and Audrey for her and Lilith to be in danger, but get her anyway. "
Josiah nodded sombrely, glad Audrey was factored into their deliberations. He did not like to think the widow could be in any danger while they were out of town with no way to protect her if Julius and his fanatics came riding into Four Corners to inflict revenge upon them for what they were about to do. "She ain’t gonna be too happy about it, but I’m sure I can convince her otherwise."
"I’m sure you will," Chris replied and turned to his father again. "Josiah will know who to talk to once you get to the railway camp. The guy in charge is pretty reasonable, so I’m sure you’ll be able to get some help from him."
"Good," the General nodded. "A day’s not much time to evacuate that many people but I’m assuming railway workers travel light so it can’t be that hard." Despite being proud of his son for giving orders so flawlessly, Larabee could not help be concerned at the task he had assigned himself. Three men was hardly a formidable force to take on Julius and his men should the convoy be accompanied with a good number of people and the truth was, he seriously doubted it would be anything but heavily guarded.
"You three gonna be okay?" He asked, trying not to show he was concerned but he was. Now that he found his son again, Larabee was not looking forward to losing him, and it was not just Chris, but the young sharpshooter by his side. He had grown quite fond of Vin Tanner since they had met and while he did not know the gambler, Larabee was just as grateful as Chris for the safe return of his daughter-in-law.
"As anyone can be," Chris responded aware of the feelings motiving the question. He felt similarly concerned about the General facing the numbers anticipated when Julius made the first move in his grand scheme. "If we can ignite the nitro from a distance, we take care of one problem long before they can reach us to stop it."
"You’re going to have be a fair distance away to manage that." The General pointed out, acknowledging the plan was sound but uncertain if the skill required making that kind of a shot existed. He knew his son was very fast with the quick draw but shooting from the hip was one thing. The type of shot Chris was talking about required a sniper at least, and that was not the kind of skill that dropped out of thin air. "Is that possible?" The doubt in his voice showed.
"Well fortunately for us," Ezra said grinning at Vin who felt no need to let the General know he was quite capable of setting off the nitro from 700 yards away if required, "We have Mr Tanner."
"That’s right Sir," Buck added confidently, aware the man was fearful for his son but in typical Larabee stubbornness, was not about to verbalise it. "Ol' Vin here can put down anything once he sets his mind to it. Ain’t seen nothing he hasn’t be able to shoot for yet, except maybe a quiet wedding." The big man remarked unable to keep from making that little joke because things were serious enough as it is and they had to let some of that tension go before they left here and did what they had to do.
"Thanks a lot, Buck," Vin muttered with a look of sarcasm.
The General nodded, deciding this t was as much assurance as he was going to get on the subject. "Quiet wedding, huh?" He looked at Vin. "There is no such thing you know, they all want big weddings. You might as well resign yourself to it son." The barest fraction of a smile crossed his face. Chris knew for the general that was almost a grin.
"See I told you!" Buck declared triumphantly.
"You know," Vin frowned. "If I take any more advice from you Buck, Josiah there is gonna be doing a ceremony with just me and my horse."
"It could be worse," Nathan added, as they took a moment to enjoy the bantering on this subject before they left the room and went to face the darkness of Hannibal Julius’ Citadel.
"How could it be worse?" Vin asked, looking to Chris for help. The gunslinger shrugged his shoulders in an expression that clearly told him he was on his own.
"Inez could be planning the thing." Josiah laughed.
Inez chose that very exact moment to return to the room, bringing with her a pot of coffee that filled the space with its aromatic sense. "Wedding?" She exclaimed. "Vin, did you say you wanted me to plan a wedding?"
"Josiah," Vin glared at the preacher not trusting himself to answer her but managed a low growl through his gritted teeth "If its the last thing I do, I’m gonna get you for this."
Ezra had no intention of returning to the Barrens so soon.
When he and Mary rode away the night before, the gambler sincerely prayed it was the last time he ever set foot in this harsh wasteland again. Ezra knew he was being ridiculous. What he did to free Mary Travis was a means to an end, not some deep-seated part of himself he had no idea existed, until now. Something about Julius made him feel fear the way nothing had in too long. Oh, Ezra knew his share of pain, just as he met his share of vile, sadistic creatures, but this was the first time he felt genuine fear. Mostly, he felt contempt for what they were, but Julius struck a nerve he did not believe could be reached.
Ezra spent his life being able to read people, to look into their eyes and know immediately what they were thinking. He could see the presence of a soul or the lack of one. In truth, the gift Ezra possessed was comforting, would always provide him with an edge over the people he associated with. It was one of the reasons why he was apart of the fellowship of seven men guarding Four Corners.
He knew, in the beginning, Chris Larabee didn't trust him, and Ezra could not blame the man for since during their first adventure together, he turned tail and run. But while he saw the lack of trust in Chris’s eyes, he also saw something else, and it was the something else that made him stay. In Chris's s eyes, Ezra deserved a second chance because the gunslinger believed Ezra could be better. As cynical as he tended to be about most things, Ezra would gladly follow Chris Larabee into hell if it was required because he rarely met anyone willing to give him a second chance. It was even rarer when he wanted the opportunity.
Reading people was his trade, and as astute as his observations were about his friends, Ezra knew Hannibal Julius scared him for that very reason. Understanding Hannibal Julius by being able to read him was what struck cold fear into his heart. Many things could paralyse people with fear, and he chanced upon a few in his life to know there was always something in the core of them to inspire savage brutality. Whatever form or shape it took, it was there, festering in the darkness, growing stronger with each act of murder or cruelty.
There was nothing in Julius.
No fear, no conscience, not even a soul. He had come into the world, a fully-formed monster. It frightened Ezra beyond belief because there was no way to reason with a creature like this because nothing mattered except filling the void with his most baser impulses. What made the whole thing worse was Julius was able to draw others into his insanity, until they fell into the void as well and his evil was given a name, the Citadel. Ezra did not voice to his companions as they rode into the Barrens even if they stopped Julius from carrying out his plans for the railroad, the movement would still exist, and the seven would be marked as enemies
"Do you hear that?" The tracker interrupted their short break, putting his two friends on immediate alert.
They paused in their journey so the tracker could examine the trails leading out of the Barrens to the various map locations. They needed to see if a convoy had come through in the last few hours. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it, the caravan had yet to leave. The lawmen travelled most of the morning, pausing long enough to get some rest and to water the horses, despite the scarcity of a suitable rest stop. When they stopped, it was a river fast drying up into an ox-bow lake. Time and erosion were choking the life out of the estuary, eventually turning it into a pond and finally into a swamp, before the heat dissolved it completely. In the here and now, it still gasped uncertainly with life and provided a temporary oasis in the Barrens.
Chris immediately went for his gun as did Ezra as they strained to listen to what the tracker with his acute sense of hearing picked up before they did. The voices were so distant Chris could not even be sure it was indeed human speech and not the sounds of nature coming with being so far out in the wilderness. He could hear birds flapping their wings in the air, lording over their human neighbours with a cry of triumph as they soared overhead while some other creatures just as native to the land made their noises, but little could be distinguished as human life.
Ezra was not so selective. Mr Tanner had proven time and time again he was not to be ignored when he issued such warnings. Ezra immediately rose to his feet and pulled on the jacket taken off during the interlude, undoing the flap of his gun holster at the same time. He looked over the flat terrain, seeing nothing but shrubs, rocks and horizon but no signs of life. At least not yet. "I think it would be prudent to assume if anyone was approaching this location, it would be to partake of this pool the way we had." He gestured to the freshwater.
"Saddle up," Chris did not need to hear the sounds to know they were there. If Vin said they were coming then as far as the gunslinger was concerned, that was more than enough for him. He glanced at Vin and was soon collecting their belongings and concealing any signs of their presence before falling into stride with the tracker. "Vin, make sure there are no tracks of any kind for them to find. If Bellison is with them, we don’t want him to know we were here."
Vin nodded in understanding while Ezra looked about anxiously. Chris noticed something had spooked the gambler, but for the life of him could not imagine what that might be. "You okay, Ezra?" He asked as he led his black gelding away from the watering hole while Vin took the precautions necessary to mask their presence.
"I am fine, Mr Larabee," Ezra asked tautly. "Why do you ask?"
"You seem kind of tense." Chris pointed out as they put some distance between themselves and the oasis. When Chris was confident they were far enough away for no one to be looking for tracks, they could mount their horses and widen the gap.
"We are about to engage idealistic fanatics armed with too much nitroglycerin, preparing to kill innocents and you wonder why I have reason to be tense?" Ezra looked at him and became aware Vin was also listening carefully even though he made no comment. Obviously, the tracker also noticed the odd behaviour being displayed by Ezra.
"Yeah." Chris nodded simply. "We’ve been in worse situations."
"When?" The gambler looked at him incredulously.
"Something I ought to know Ezra?" Chris asked, deciding gentle inquiry was not going to do it and subtlety performed on a master like Ezra was a pointless effort. Ezra was too slick to answer anything but a direct question. He would sidestep everything else easily and avoid giving anything away.
"Nothing," Ezra said shortly. "Nothing that affects our present circumstances."
Chris wanted to know more but could see from Ezra’s manner the gambler did not wish to discuss it further, and Chris had enough issues about privacy to not pry into someone else’s. Still, Chris could not help feeling some curiosity as to what could shake the calm, deliberate demeanour of the professional con man. Chris suspected more went on than Ezra was prepared to tell him, and while he believed the man when he claimed his silence had nothing to do with the situation at hand, Chris could not help wondering what the gambler found so difficult to reveal.
It did not help he supposed, Ezra was forced to bring him news about Maria. In the light of Mary’s safe return, Chris almost forgot about the warm, sultry woman who shared his bed before Mary and felt slightly ashamed about letting her death slip his mind. Inside him, there was a place where he kept his grief and knew when he got his hands on Bellison and Julius, Chris had every intention of making the bastards pay for Maria’s death. She was the soft voice and warm body, giving him comfort when he was ready to drink himself into oblivion because the pain of Sarah and Adam's loss became too much for even him to cope. That she met her end because of him was unforgivable, and Chris swore an oath to mount the heads of those responsible for her death on tall pikes in vengeance.
He was about to answer in response to Ezra's cryptic declaration when the sounds he and Ezra were unable to hear earlier became audible. All three lawmen dug their heels into their mounts, causing the animals to hasten their departure and concealing their presence to the new arrivals.
There was something of a hill in the nearby distance which would provide for a good vantage point while they determined who was coming. Although no one made mention of it, the Barrens was barely inhabited, and if someone was approaching, there was really no doubt as to who it could be. The trio of riders quickly rode their horses up the rocky incline, remaining beyond the line of sight until they reached the top and were able to see who was coming.
From the height, they were able to see the approach Vin had warned them about using the senses hones from years of skill and tracking ability. The voices carried clearly across the flat terrain below them. Chris was able to discern after several minutes, there were a lot of them coming towards the watering hole. He counted at least twenty men on horseback, all heavily armed, rifles tucked in their saddles as they neared the edge of the water. The reason for the armaments was apparent to the lawmen as they spied the same wagons they guarded so fastidiously until the army had arrived, travelling with the enemy.
"Can you make the shot from here?" Chris asked even though he was sure Vin was trying to make the determination himself. It was quite a distance away, almost 800 yards by his reckoning and the ridge offered a clear line of sight, but it was going to take a hell of a shot. Vin could not afford to waste a single bullet to detonate the nitro before Bellison, and his men closed the distance and cut them to pieces. While he was confident they might survive those odds, Chris knew the action at the railway camp could not afford to be without them, so getting hurt here or worse yet, dying was out of the question.
Vin stared at the convoy moving obliviously to the lake, unaware at this time of their existence. When he pulled the trigger, all that would change, and there would not be many locations where he could make additional attempts before they guessed where he, Chris and Ezra were holed up. There were five wagons, and he had to make five long-range shots which he hoped would be able to set off the nitro at first shot, if not he would have to try again which meant more time. Vin took all this into consideration before finally nodding slowly.
"Yeah, I reckon I can." He nodded.
Chris took a deep breath and faced the convoy once more. He thought quickly as to how they would proceed, recalling the plan he had in mind before their departure from Four Corners. The gunslinger would have preferred better terrain but decided it was always going to be problematic. Chris knew Bellison well enough to say for sure if they succeeded in destroying the nitro, the former Indian scout would hunt them down until he had bodies to bring back to Julius for the blunder of allowing such a disaster to befall the mission. It was the only way Bellison could save his neck because even though the years had changed Julius into believing he was a demi-god, he was also a deity who did not look upon failure well.
"Get ready, Vin," Chris ordered. "As soon as they get comfortable, make your shots."
Whether or not they destroyed the nitro using Vin’s sharpshooting skills, there was a deeper agenda all three men were perfectly aware. None of the men accompanying the convoy could be allowed to return to Julius to warn him the plans for his grand scheme had gone awry. Whatever took place now, Julius had to make his move against the camp for the Citadel to be vulnerable.
Which meant win or lose, no one was walking away from this fight.
***********
News of a coming massacre did not go down well with the powers to be, particularly on a construction site with workers numbering in the hundreds who had difficulty comprehending the language of their employers. While Chris, Ezra and Vin were dealing with the nitro, the General led his son's devoted friends to carry out their part of the plan, assisting in the evacuation of as many workers from the site as possible. The army had been wired for assistance, but even Larabee was realistic enough to know help would not arrive in time.
The site was now the impromptu location of the local Chinese community with the infrastructure of a small town composed of markets where peddlers sold their wares and exotic foods, gambling houses and opium dens. The last time the lawmen had visited, it was a fascinating blend of the mysterious orient and the burgeoning industry of the new West. Now it was starting to become a town in its own rights, whose lifespan would last just about as long as it took for the construction work to complete with no fixed location. When the railway line continued further into the Territory, this patchwork community would pick up its roots and follow it along until it reached the inevitable conclusion of disappearing however when the work was done or settling down permanently.
As Josiah Sanchez allowed his gaze to sweep across the crowds of workers, moving with the precision of an ant colony, he realised what a Herculean task lay before them. There were so many people he could barely count them all, and it was not exaggerating when their number was believed to be in the hundred. They were not merely of Chinese extraction but also Mexicans and any other race crossing the ocean in the belief America was the land of opportunity. Perhaps it was, Josiah could not say rightly for sure, knowing for some people, the journey only brought tragedy.
McPhee, the rail boss, was presently arguing with the General who was putting across the argument, ignoring their warnings of danger would be a fatal mistake for everyone present. Josiah knew until the General arrived here and saw women and children living in the makeshift shanties at the edge of the camp, he had note expected the scope of the possible carnage awaiting them. McPhee himself was a reasonable man, but he was bound by the limitations of what he could do to move so many people in so short a time.
"I’m telling you we can’t move all these people out of here by tomorrow!" McPhee continued to debate with the general. It amused the rest of the seven to no end to see the General was handling things the way Chris handled them, with the same obtuse manner and force of will capable of making most people flinch whenever they had to look into the powerful gaze of his dark eyes.
"I’m telling you, this is not a request," Larabee said firmly. "In 24 hours, you’re going to have close to a hundred men on horseback riding into this camp with the sole purpose of killing every living thing they can lay their hands on. We’re going to have a tough enough time keeping those men at bay without having to worry about women and children!"
"Listen, I hear you." McPhee tried to reason with the General but was starting to understand this was never a request, to begin with, but an order the man expected obeyed without any argument. "But I’m telling you, even if we could begin the evacuation, we couldn’t get them far enough for it to be any good. We don’t have enough horses or wagons in the entire camp to move that many people!"
"Well we better think of something," Larabee declared sharply, trying not to let his temper get the better of him. He looked about the camp, seeing old faces intermingled with young ones, going about their business with no idea Armageddon was about to come down on them in less than a day. Neither was his mood improved knowing his son was out there somewhere, battling it out against great numbers where he could lose the boy again. "The men coming are fanatics. They believe they’re killing for a cause, which means they won’t have any difficulty killing everyone in sight if they can."
"Maybe there is a way around this," Buck added aware the desperation of the situation was provoking the tempers of both men.
"Like what?" McPhee asked. The workers in his camp were not just paid labourers, some of them were his friends, and he cared about all of them. Before his assuming the role of rail boss, his predecessors were nothing less than criminally abusive of the Chinese workers under their yoke, stealing their wages and killing anyone who dared to speak out. Since then, McPhee tried to do right by the workers, treating them as more than just cattle but as human beings. He would not revert to type by moving them like livestock when there was nowhere to go.
"Look," Buck said, trying to be the voice of reason, a role he was accustomed to playing the role for Chris in Vin's absence. " We can’t move all of them, but maybe we can get the women and children out."
"That could be done." McPhee agreed, thinking how many there were precisely and while it would take the entire day to accomplish such a feat, it was possible. "But we’d still have a lot of workers here by the time these raiders of yours show up."
"I think we ought to see how many are willing to stand up and fight with us," Nathan suggested. "After all, it’s their necks we’re trying to save, their families."
"That’s something," the General nodded and then looked up at McPhee. "Alright, get started on evacuating the women and children immediately, I want them on wagons out of here by sundown. Meanwhile, we’ve got to set up fortifications for this camp, make it as hard as they can to get in here. You’ve got explosives I take it?"
"Yeah," McPhee replied, glad they had come to a compromise and moved past the point of bickering to get some work done. He had to pray the general, and these lawmen knew what they were doing. "We use it for construction."
"Get your powder man here," Buck prompted. "We’re up a reception committee for those boys when they come around tomorrow."
***********
The convoy stopped at the watering hole, unaware it had any visitors to the place before their arrival.
Chris, Ezra and Vin observed as the enemy started to make camp for at least an hour or so as they took the time to water their horses and allow both man and beast to get some rest before resuming their caravan out of the Barrens. Chris saw Bellison barking orders to his men, having picked up no signs of their tracks and confirming to the gunslinger Vin was still better than the former Indian Scout when it came to tracking and reading the land.
Speaking of Vin, the sharpshooter was stretched out on his stomach, resting on his elbows as he lined the long projectiles with their full metal jackets in a neat row as he set up for the sniper barrage he would soon deliver upon the enemy. As of yet, the Citadel fanatics had no idea they were being watched, and Chris wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. Meanwhile, Chris and Ezra did the same, ensuring their guns were loaded, from the from peacemaker to the derringer tucked away under Ezra's crisp white sleeve and their ammunition within easy reach.
"How you doing Vin?" Chris asked again, glancing across the landscape to whatever was transpiring at the enemy camp. So far, men were spread around the wagons, and he could tell despite their relaxed manner under the afternoon sun, it would take little more than a nudge to mobilise them if they smelled trouble.
"Almost there, pard," Vin said with no hint of anxiousness despite the fact their entire plan relied upon his skill. Both Chris and Ezra knew his unflappable demeanour was for their benefit only. They could tell by the taut line of his jaw and the tension in his manner he was concentrating fully on the momentous task before him.
"Mr Tanner, I hope your skills are as lauded as we think they are or this is going to end badly."
"Thanks," Vin cast his gaze over his shoulder at the Ezra. "I’ll remember the next you want to borrow one of my scarves after you lose everything at the gambling tables."
"Excuse me, I think we ought to clarify I only had to borrow your scarf once," Ezra said with great dignity. "The other time, the proprietor of the establishment was good enough to make that donation and thus saving my honour, not to mention my modesty."
"Saving your honour my ass," Vin laughed, and then said with a smug smile, "or maybe he just wanted to keep everyone from seeing yours like half the town did when you moseyed out of there." The tracker knew Ezra hated to be reminded of the unfortunate incident when he had become obsessed with defeating a fellow gambler (who turned to be cheating) until he had lost just about everything, including his clothes.
"At least I had a table cloth to cover my nudity," Ezra smirked at him. "If I recall the last time you were caught in a similar situation, you had to run ‘buck naked’, pardon the pun until you found your clothes."
"True," Vin was not about to cry defeat yet since he had an addendum to that statement he was sure Ezra was also going to hate hearing all about. "Still come the next night I could, and you didn’t."
"That Sir," Ezra bristled, "was an underhanded trick. Some of Alex's potions should be outlawed...."
"Will you two cut it out!" Chris growled in a low voice but with enough intensity to make them both sit up and pay attention. He would rather his comrades remain focussed instead of indulging in this juvenile bantering when so much relied upon them. "Your comedy act can wait."
"I’ll have you know that our ‘comedy act’ as you put it is the toast of four states." The gambler said with a perfectly straight face, exchanging a slight snigger of mischief with the tracker who returned it with a sparkle in his blue eyes.
Chris shook his head and wondered why he bothered. Despite the two men being diametrically opposed as any two human beings might be; Ezra with his polish and refinement and Vin who was more rustic in his ways. The duo seemed to have the same strange sense of humour and could always be counted on, usually with Buck, who made the last part of their triumvirate to playing practical jokes more suited to ten-year-old boys.
Just to prove they were not utterly unmindful of the urgency over their present circumstances, Vin positioned his rifle and raised himself to his elbows, his eye lowering to the sight to take aim. "I’m ready as I’m ever gonna be, pard."
"Okay," Chris nodded, forgetting everything else now the moment was upon them. He glanced in Ezra’s direction and offered the gambler a slight nod as he retrieved his ivory-handled peacemaker and cocked the gun with an audible click. There was no need to speak since everything that needed saying passed between their eyes in a secret language far more effective than the spoken word.
Ezra unsheathed his own guns and depressed the trigger just enough for the hammer to pull back in readiness for action when it finally came time to shoot. While his face showed no signs of apprehension, Chris spied his Adam’s apple bobbing once or twice so slightly no one else, but the Seven would have noticed. It was not often the mask wavered, but when it did, it was still enough to conceal the fact from most people except those who knew him very well.
"We ready?" Chris asked, just to make certain since there was no going back once they began.
"Yep." Came Vin’s short reply.
"Once more unto the breach, dear friends. Once more."
"Henry the Fifth," Chris surprised him by responding. "Before the battle of Agincourt." A slow smile stole across his face in the wake of Ezra’s surprised expression. "Good choice, Ez."
"Let us hope we win the day like they did," Ezra remarked and face front.
"All right, Vin," Chris said finally. "Do it."
Vin nodded and took a deep breath and aimed the extended barrel of the gun in the direction of the farthest wagon from his line of sight. He sought to make the most difficult shots first and then move onto the ones closer. If Vin missed, he would have more time to reload and try again before hell broke loose and Bellison’s men came after them. He was well aware even though Chris had not made mention of it, none of those wagons could be allowed to escape with its cargo intact.
It took less than two seconds for the bullet to escape the long barrel of the rifle and strike its target once the trigger was pulled. The sound was so loud Chris and Ezra had to retreat a few away as the roar filled the air and alerted everyone on the lonely plains to their presence. The boom following the release of the chemical reaction made the gunshot pale as the bullet tore through the canvas and struck home. The wagon became a ball of fire as the nitroglycerin exploded and a surge of flames shot through the blue sky. The three men guarding the cart at the time were granted of the consolation of a quick death and probably didn't know what was happening before it hit them.
The small camp went immediately into disarray. The fire burned with such fierce intensity, Chris and Ezra could hear the rumble of flames as it consumed everything that was the wagon. Chris could see Bellison running towards the wreckage with the rest of his men, disorientated by the sudden attack, recovering quickly and in doing so, surveyed the terrain, trying to discern where the attack originated. Chris knew it would not take him long to make that determination. Bellison began shouting, and although Chris could not hear exactly what was being said, he was sure it was an order to move the nitro before they lost any more of it.
Unfortunately for Bellison, Vin was not about to let that happen, and Chris shifted his gaze long enough to see the sharpshooter taking aim once again, his face intense with concentration as he readied his rifle to make the second shot. Chris closed his ears, having no wish to be deafened by the blast when the bullet was fired. Vin seemed to be oblivious to the noise since the shot was travelling away from him, taking the sound with it. As he pulled back the trigger of the gun and fired again, the spent casing clattered to the ground next to him.
The second shot more or less told Bellison where the shooting was coming from and Chris could make out the former Sargent and Indian scout pointing towards them as he started running towards his horse, beckoning men to follow as they scurried away from the nitro. Those guarding the nitro were unprepared to remain by it after seeing what just happened to their comrades following the first shot. When the second struck home with just as much precision, and the following detonation lashed out with such power, the custodians of the wagon were given no chance to escape. Chris watched in horrific fascination as their bodies were flung forward with such force when they landed, he was sure the ground had snapped their bones like kindling.
In the meantime, Bellison and his men had mounted their horses and were galloping towards them at top speed. It would take no more than a few minutes for them to reach the ridge and there was still three wagons left to destroy. Somehow, he and Ezra would have to hold them off to allow Vin to get the job done.
"Vin," Chris said firmly as the tracker’s fingers were moving nimbly and with rapid speed as he reloaded his rifle to continue the sniper assault. "Whatever happens, keep shooting."
"I hear you pard." Vin nodded in understanding, pausing long enough to offer his best friend a look of acknowledgment, not merely at the instruction but to the necessity behind that order. "Good luck. If not, I’ll see you both in hell." With that, he went back to his task and prepared to retake aim when he slid another projectile, with its smooth metal jacket into place and performed the lever-action trigger readied the bullet to fire.
Chris and Ezra kept their heads down and skirted along the other side of the ridge, seeking the optimum firing position to defend themselves when Bellison and his men arrived. They found the most direct route leading up to the hill and took up position flanking the top of the passageway allowing horses to traverse up the steep incline. Chris took refuge behind the rock just as he heard a third shot being fired, followed by the deafening boom of another rifle blast. He saw Bellison reacted to the sound, turning around long enough to see whether or not the bullet had struck home and cursed when it did. The result of it meeting its target could not be masked when another wagon was laid to waste. Fragments of wood and fabric scattered across the plains, strewn amongst dead body and fiery embers of debris.
Chris saw Bellison’s expression harden with black hatred and knew the man was going to take no prisoners when the day was done. This was only going to end with one of them dying.
"All right Ezra," Chris met the gambler’s gaze one last time before they faced the enemy. "Here, they come."
Chris took aim and waited until the riders came into range of his weapon, unwilling to waste any bullets by firing prematurely just because his adrenalin was up. The enemy thundered across the ground, the furious pounding of hooves against the earth was starting to make the ground tremble. Behind them, the backdrop of the horizon began to take on the appearance of a battlefield, with bodies everywhere and fire burning black columns of smoke into the clear blue sky. Bellison could not see them yet, but Chris was sure the sergeant had a fair idea of who orchestrated the destruction of their precious cargo.
The barrage of gunfire coming at them the moment Bellison and his men were close enough to fire was so fierce that it drove Chris and Ezra back behind the scab of rock as bullets impacted on its surface, sending sharp fragments in all directions. From his hiding place, Chris could see Vin pausing long enough to look at them with concern when he barked at the tracker to continue. "Keep shooting!"
Vin nodded and turned his attention back to the wagons as Chris aimed his guns at Bellison and started firing. The bullets escaping his weapon took down two of the large gathering advancing towards them. Bellison hardly batted at an eye at the death of his men, shouting at the others over the sound of gunfire to keep going when suddenly another explosion roared through the air, startling their horses. The animals reared up on their hindquarters, giving Chris and Ezra enough of an opening to send a murderous hail of bullets at them.
Both lawmen were deadly shots and were aiming carefully instead of firing wildly as Bellison and his men were doing. The enemy had the ammunition to spare while Chris and Ezra did not, making every bullet count. A host of bodies tumbled from their horses, creating obstacles the animals were too conditioned to avoid. The sudden stop resulted in the horses colliding with each other while still carrying their riders.
The destruction of the fourth and last wagon ended the threat of the nitro, and with this task completed, Vin turned the rifle towards the men who were struggling to reach them. The others fanatics left guarding the wagons, wisely fled when the explosions started but were now able to meet up with Bellison to take revenge on lawmen who shredded their plans for the railroad tracks. Without needing time to draw breath, Vin changed the direction of his aim and started firing.
Ezra saw Bellison’s reinforcements falling into the dirt as they attempted to breach the distance between themselves and their leader. The gambler glanced over his shoulder long enough to see the tracker taking up the slack and felt some admiration for the man’s skill. The shots that destroyed the wagon were stunning if such violence could ever be labelled a thing of art which Ezra felt this was very close to being. He paused a moment and reloaded his gun, while Chris continued to fire at the horde that was less than two hundred yards away. There were at least six of them approaching, with Bellison leading the charge.
Ezra rolled back onto the rock, his chest pressing hard against the protection as he aimed and fired, using as much calm deliberation in shooting as he did when playing cards. He squeezed the trigger almost gently, mindful at the danger looming forward with each powerful stride of the horses galloping towards them. The shot took down the man at Bellison’s side, and Chris maintained the barrage on his end, taking down the man at the far end. Bellison’s look of hatred started to wane slightly as he realised that his men were being cut down around him. However, his uncertainty had not asserted himself to a point where he had considered withdrawing.
One hundred yards. Ezra swallowed, seeing the four men starting to climb up the incline. Once they scaled the steep hill on horseback, there would be no place for Chris or Ezra to hide. Both men made a silent agreement that Bellison could not be allowed to reach them. The time for the finesse of marksmanship was over. Now it was a straight out firefight, brutal and swift. The two lawmen emerged and started shooting, creating of a wall of bullets allowing nothing to penetrate and more of Bellison’smen met their deaths, unseated from theirs saddles before tumbling down the slope, taking dirt and rocks with them. Very soon, Bellison found himself the only one leading his charge, and he realised halfway through the journey upwards he was alone.
"Sargent!" Chris shouted and rose to his feet, emerging from the rock and daring the man forward. "So much for the revolution!"
Ezra did not know what Chris was doing and decided it was really unimportant for him to have that question answered when Bellison was alone, and Chris was more than capable of handling himself. Instead, he turned his attention to the reinforcements Vin was working through steadily, using his rifle to deadly accuracy until only two or three men managed to escape the barrage of sniper fire. Ezra turned his attention to them and took them out with as much efficiency as he and Chris despatched the rest of their comrades a short time ago.
Bellison was still approaching. Chris knew he would after he goaded the man. Readying the shot, actually, one of two really, Chris had waited the last sixteen years to take, he cocked his gun slowly and aimed. This was not just for two months of hell inside a military hospital, wondering if he would ever walk again, this was for abducting his wife, dragging her out of her home and terrifying his son. This was also for the murder of a young woman who was his lover, and more importantly, his friend. Maria had been his anchor when despair had threatened to claim him. Without her loving touch and soft voice in the night to tell him there were things were worth living for, he might not have ever told Mary how he felt, and everything since then might never have been. When Bellison took Maria’s life, he sealed his own doom.
Bellison did not falter in his progress, perhaps believing the same thing as he prepared to kill the man who saw seen him languishing inside the confines of a hellish military prison for so many years. However, of the two, it was Chris who did not flinch while the closer Bellison approached, the more uncertain he became he might win. Unfortunately, by the time he reached that realisation, and his resolve faltered, it was too late.
Chris only needed one shot, and he took it.
It was all that was required really. The bullet slammed into the centre of Bellison’s forehead, exiting through the back of his head and erupting his scalp in large, gruesome fragments of meat as the life drained from the man’s eyes. He seemed mostly surprised as everything he was splattered across the back of his horse, causing the animal to rear up in a panic. It threw Bellison’s body out of the saddle, and the corpse rolled down the slope before coming to a stop.
Chris watched his body come to a halt dispassionately, feeling no remorse or satisfaction, just the partial closure that would only reach completion when Julius joined Bellison in that same grisly pose. The gunslinger regarded the dead man for a moment before he whispered softly under his breath.
"That one's for you, Maria."
***********
Until the lawmen and the rail boss actually began the process of evacuation, none realised just how monumental the task was before them. Language difficulties aside, most of the families were unhappy to be pulled apart even for a day and for reasons of safety. Most were willing to brave the danger that was coming just to keep their families intact. Josiah could well understand why this was. Most of the Chinese workers had nothing else to bind them to this world except the families they brought with them from the Orient. To lose that was to be completely alone and like so many people, whatever their origins, was a difficult thing to bear.
Fortunately, Josiah enlisted the aid of Wo Chin who in the past year and a half had metamorphosed from an angry youth mourning his father to a young man discovering his own identity in the new world. Along with the family friend who had assumed responsibility of the young man since his father’s death, Chong Soon and Wo Chin had acted as translators, attempting to convey to the workers what would be the deadly consequences if they did not make haste and depart. Josiah felt a little like Moses heralding the Israelites out of Egypt as he saw families gathering everything they had into small parcels, bound by cloth as the wagons were readied to ferry them away.
Mostly and women and children went first, with a good many able-bodied men remaining behind and offering to take up the task of defence. While Josiah and JD took charge of the evacuation, Buck and the railway company’s powder man, an elderly gentleman named Horton, prepared to surround the camp with explosive mines to give Julius’s Citadel a surprise when they made their arrival the next day. Horton, who was in the business for so long he probably started when Buck was in diapers, provided some much-appreciated guidance. While Buck knew how to set up dynamite and detonators, the others knew he was not all that much of an expert and could appreciate why he was so eager when Horton offered to teach him the tricks of the trade.
In the meantime, Nathan was preparing for the wounded inevitably following any gunfight, especially the one with the scale they would be facing the next day. The healer wished he could have summoned Alexandra Styles but knew Vin Tanner would not appreciate his future wife involved in this action. Thus he enlisted the aid of the local healer, Doctor Soong whom apart from having unsuccessful love potions did know something about treating more physical wounds like the ones they were expecting tomorrow. With the Doctor’s aid, the two men established something of a first aid station in one of the shanty’s some distance away from the fighting.
The General was just as busy, coordinating with McPhee and the rest of his men, where to position themselves when the attack came and what was defensible and needed to mined with obstacles when men could not successfully keep the invaders out. Everyone was in agreement with the absence of Chris Larabee, it was quite comforting to have his formidable father around, directing things. Josiah could see where Chris acquired his own leadership skills even though his conversations with Larabee indicated Chris had no taste for soldiering. Josiah supposed being able to do something and wanting to do it were two different things.
Josiah and JD escorted the wagons far away from the camp, to piece of land well hidden because of its distance from the main settlements in the area. As a temporary refuge, it was rather Spartan and had a small creek capable of serving as a source of water until it was safe for the families to return to the camp. Fortunately, a lengthy stay was not anticipated. One way or another, the next day, would decide with no room for doubt. The caravans of women and children continued most of the day as the lawmen moved everyone who was in danger or unable to defend themselves into the temporary refuge.
By evening, Buck and Horton set up the defensive perimeter, and Wo Chin had aided with the construction of fortifications, not unlike those they had built when they were defending the Seminole village and more recently, Four Corners, during its siege. No one was certain how much effect this would have on Julius’s men, but any advantage was welcomed. Buck and Nathan then began the task of distributing any spare guns there were kept in the weapons cache railway office among the men who had volunteered to fight with them. Most had limited awareness of guns and such and a few hours were expended familiarising them with the use of the weapons for them to be useful when the attack came.
The preparations continued into the night until finally, all that could be done was undertaken. With nightfall, there was little to be done until morning. Sentries were posted in strategic locations around the perimeter to ensure Julius did not catch them unawares by launching a premature attack in the middle of the night. The mood was tense. When the last of the preparations were concluded, they gathered around a campfire Josiah made, trying not to notice the silence that moved through the place in the wake of the evacuation. Although there were still a large number of people in the camp, it was still a pale shadow of what it had been when they had first arrived that morning.
As twilight descended over them, the lawmen took supper of whatever the camp cook had prepared, trying not to think about the odds that they would be facing tomorrow, or how their other comrades were faring on their part of the plan.
"How do you think they’re doing?" JD asked as he wolfed down the food before him, displaying his youth in his voracious appetite while the others picked at their meal.
"Probably on their way back now," Buck said confidently, always the internal optimistic and especially so on this occasion for the benefit of Chris’s father. Although the General remained mostly impassive during the meal, it was not hard to see in his silence, his thoughts were with his son.
In some ways, Buck envied Chris having a father to worry about him when most of their number was lacking in that privilege. He had no idea who his father did and sometimes wondered if his mother had any idea herself. Almost nothing was known about Ezra’s father except they were together long enough to provide Ezra with his name. In contrast, Vin didn't even know that much, uncertain whether or not the name Tanner was from the paternal or maternal side of his family. From what Buck knew of JD’s life before he came here, the youth had only vague memories of his father and was mostly raised by his mother. Nathan’s own father had passed not long after his trial, but their reconciliation sent the old man to his grave in peace. Meanwhile, from all descriptions, Josiah’s relationship with his father was antagonistic, to say the least.
"I think we got a good chance of giving those Citadel boys something to remember," Nathan remarked, pleased with the progress they made today and especially so because they managed the feat of moving the women and children out of the camp to a place of safety.
The General seemed to agree. "We need to take Julius," he said in his gravelly voice, joining in the conversation for the first time. "If we can take him, the rest of them will be disorganised."
"That’s true," Josiah nodded. "From what Ezra told us, it seemed that Julius kept control to himself and Bellison."
"Chances are that’s who Chris ran into," Buck replied. "Blowing up the railway tracks is an important job, he wouldn’t trust that to anyone than the good ol’ sarge." He snorted, not hiding his dislike.
"Yeah," Nathan agreed. "They do seem joined at the hip." The healer pointed out, recalling what Buck told them about the man previously.
"He’s a sycophant," Larabee said shortly. "He’ll follow his master like a dog."
"Not any more." The younger version of that same voice responded, much to everyone's surprise.
"Chris!" JD said euphorically as he saw the gunslinger entered the amber light of their campfire. The others immediately rose to their feet and offered similar welcomes to the three weary travellers who rode and fast after their confrontation with Bellison so they could stand with their friends when the attack came the next day. The General did not show his joy as exuberantly as Buck and JD, merely giving his son a slight nod before the entire group sat in front of the fire once again, allowing the heat to warm their bones as they caught up with each other over the day’s events.
"So I am assuming Bellison is no longer a problem," Larabee asked as he waited for Chris to down his cup of coffee as Buck volunteered to go get them some food.
"Neither the nitro or Mr Bellison will be causing us any further difficulty by their continued existence." Ezra drawled as he rested his back against his bedroll and took pleasure in being able just to relax for a short time until the next crisis came along, which in this instance, would be at dawn.
"That nitro is all gone?" Nathan inquired.
"Yeah," Vin nodded. "Every last wagon." The tracker confirmed, feeling no need to go into detail. It was enough he was somewhat satisfied he managed to accomplish the task without endangering his companions with the inconvenience of a misfire.
"Nobody got away alive to warn Julius," Chris added. "We saw to it."
"So they’re still coming." Buck sighed, not relishing the fight, especially when they were expecting large casualty numbers because the workers who volunteered to stay and fight at their side being were green.
"Julius has a point to make," Ezra said with a hint of bitterness in his voice not lost upon the others and secretly, they wondered what on earth transpired between Julius and Ezra to warrant so much personal dislike from the gambler. "He will do so sacrificing all his men if necessary just so that us peons know the right hand of God had spoken."
"He actually says that?" JD gasped, somewhat horrified by the description and the motivation behind such callousness, not to mention the delusions of grandeur.
"It’s a step up from military genius," Chris remarked.
"Well," Larabee said with a loud sigh. "Tomorrow, we’ll find out how right he is about that."
***********
Time.
There had seemed a lot of it in the darkness. The moon above them had illuminated much of the night and followed through hours until dawn finally arrived. No one could sleep really, even though they were all exhausted from the day’s preparation, hoping everything that done in readiness for the attack the next day would be enough. Eventually, some of the seven drifted off into slumber, but their dreams were uneasy and sporadic, and finally, they found themselves awake and awaited the morning together.
In the light of dawn, there were no signs of the previous night’s anxieties, just the grim determination to survive the day and keep the people around them in a similar state of health. Even though the women and children were evacuated, their husbands, fathers and their brothers, were still here and though ready to fight were not warriors by nature. Despite proving they had the heart needed to defend themselves against Julius’ fanatics.
It had not been that long since Chris Larabee participated in another battle like this. When Selina Quint led Mexican bandits to lay waste to the town of Four Corners to clear the land for the likes of Guy Royal and Stuart James, Chris was forced to plan the strategy for the town to prevail against the threat. This situation was not much different than that terrible affair, although this engagement worried Chris a great deal more. Except for the men working for McPhee and the seven, very few of those called on to defend the settlement had any real experience using guns.
The majority were simple Chinese workers, who most likely had never even seen a gun, let alone acquire enough skill in 24 hours to defend themselves with any real capability. What was worse, the men who made up the bulk of Julius were men who followed a cause they were prepared to die for. As Ezra had told them, Julius saw to it that the men who followed him were trained to kill. Julius wanted an army fearsome enough to shake the foundations of the government and strike fear into the hearts of people by the very mention of their name. Julius kept them mean and hungry so they'd always have an edge and it was the edge that gave Chris reason for concern. Still, when it was all said and done, there was no use worrying about things he could not change. They had asked for leadership, and the seven had given it. He had to believe that was enough.
The seven had been dispersed throughout the camp in preparation for the attack. Chris and his father were situated in the most obvious place where Julius would select to penetrate the camp when he eventually arrived. Buck and Horton mined the area intensively, intending on killing as many of the enemies when they made their initial charge. Having established a minefield of sorts strategically around the camp, the big man had gone to oversee the detonations. Meanwhile, Vin enlisted some of McPhee’s men as snipers. After what happened with the nitro, Chris could safely say sniper fire could be an extremely effective weapon in the right hands, and as far as he was concerned, those hands could not be more capable than Vin Tanner’s
Chris paced up and down space where Ezra was poised over one of the detonators with a slew of McPhee’s men waiting for the invaders to come. Larabee watched his son walking back and forth and knew Chris was working himself into an ever-tightening knot of tension that was ill-advised at this time.
"Relax." He ordered.
"I can’t." Chris frowned and continued pacing. They had set up a defensive perimeter, and the men stationed along the precarious border seemed to grow more impatient by the waiting game starting the moment the sun had risen this morning. Chris wished Ezra’s intelligence was more specific, he hated waiting for the moment as much as they did and wanted it over and done with.
"You’re making me nervous, knock it off." His father said with just enough edge in his voice to demand obedience.
"You know I’m not a kid any more." Chris pointed, unaware Ezra was finding great amusement in the exchange between a father and son. It was like watching two great rocks slamming into each other, it was just a question of odds who would crumble first. If Ezra were actually fool enough to lay such a bet, he would put the odds on the senior Larabee prevailing.
"I noticed," Larabee remarked. "If you were, I’d smack you around and before I gave you that piece of advice. You’re working yourself up and making your men nervous."
"I am not." Chris sounded almost petulant before turning to Ezra. "Am I?"
"Mr Larabee, there is not enough money in this world to make me answer that question," Ezra said with a dimpled smile. "I am afraid you boys will have to settle this matter on your own."
"Coward."
"That’s not a nice thing to say to the man," Larabee said sternly. "Apologise to Mr Standish."
Chris was about to say what he thought about that idea when suddenly, the loud whine of a bugle wielded by sentries, delivered irrefutable proof of the inevitable news of trouble. The loud, penetrating sound moved through the group of men stationed at this beachhead like a ripple through water and immediately, everyone raised their guns and readied himself to begin shooting at a moment’s notice.
Before he could question the specifics of what their sentries had seen, the silence was shattered by a new sound. Around him, his father and Ezra had yet to pick it up, only Vin could have such acute hearing, and he was up on that ridge with a dozen men who were readying themselves for their part of the fighting. Everyone else was still oblivious to it, which was hardly surprising since Chris had trained himself to detect such things.
"I hear gunfire," Chris spoke up.
Immediately Larabee stood and listened carefully. "I hear it." He said after a moment. "They’re trying to take down the lookouts."
"Are you sure?" Ezra asked, staring into the line of the horizon, trying to focus on the sound. "I don't hear anything."
"Wait for it," Chris responded coolly.
The gunfire approached like a whisper, carried on the waves of a rolling breeze. It tickled the ears as it started to rise in momentum. Very soon, they were all hearing it.
"Hold position!" Larabee ordered the men who were at the perimeter, looking as if they might run, with the sound of many riders was approaching. His voice seemed to jar them back to their senses, and he hoped it would be enough. They had mined this area because it was the more vulnerable to attack and because Julius would not forgo the golden opportunity of exploiting such a tactical advantage.
"Here, they come," Chris said the second time in as many days.
It was difficult to see how many of them were coming because when they peaked the crest of the horizon, Chris could only see an endless line of horses, thundering towards them, dragging hell with them as they crossed the battlefield and closed in on the prey. He could not see Julius and Chris was uncertain if the man was even here since he rarely led the charge personally in the battles during the war. No doubt, Julius was where it was safe, offering his men up as cannon fodder for his bloody victor.
As Chris took a deep breath and tried not to feel apprehension at the enemy forces closing in on them, he hoped the men who were standing with him had the same resolve. Even Ezra’s facade of calm deliberation had faded somewhat, and there was just enough dark in the gambler’s eyes for Chris to see he slightly afraid. His father remained impassive, but then the general had seen much worse in his time, and Chris had to admit there was enough of his father’s blood in him to keep his own fear at bay as well. Still, the enemy was impressive as they thundered forward, appearing well armed and ready to battle to the death as they raised their guns and prepared to kill in the name of their cause.
"Lord." Ezra found himself saying as he saw the full might of the Citadel bearing down on him and his friends.
"Don’t let them spook you," Chris said coolly, his eyes fixed on the enemy as they closed in. He did not see superior numbers or the possibility of death. He saw only that after sixteen years, he and Hannibal Julius were going to have their moment of reckoning.
"I will try, but unlike you, I left my iron stomach in my other suit," Ezra said sarcastically.
"Well, think of this way," the general remarked. "They can kill you only once."
"Now why didn’t I think of that?" The gambler rolled his eyes. "I used to be such an optimistic soul."
Chris did not respond. Instead, he looked at Ezra and soon calmly. "Get ready."
Ezra nodded quietly, all business now as the riders started to approach the kill zone where the mines were waiting for them. Resting his hands on the handle that would set off the charges when he depressed it, Ezra kept his eye trained on either of the Larabee’s awaiting them to give the signal. He glanced long enough at the men behind him to see that they were waiting with similar anticipation for Chris to provide the signal with and Ezra prayed Buck Wilmington’s lesson under the tutelage of Mister Horton improved his skill as a powder man.
Or this was not going to be much of a defence.
Chris did not pay much attention to Ezra, focussed instead on the men approaching and undoing the flap of his holster so his gun would in easy reach when the hurricane of riders and guns finally rolled on top of them. His eyes skimmed over the faces of the men with him, and he witnessed the fear in their eyes. Good, he thought to himself. A little bit of healthy fear was a good thing. It might just make them take that extra bit of care to stay alive when the shooting started, and the real fighting began.
He could see the faces of the men who were coming to kill them and knew that this was the time. He glanced at Ezra and immediately issued the order the southerner had been awaiting.
"Now!"
The roar of the explosion seemed to fill the air as the earth trembled from the mortal wound delivered upon it. Geysers of heat and sand blasted forth from the ground, knocking men off their horses, killing mount and rider in some instances, as bodies began falling like the debris scattered throughout the minefield. As expected, the charge scattered in disarray as the riders attempted to gain some equilibrium in the face of the violent eruptions. The formidable line of invaders had become an ant colony after someone had smashed a rock through it.
However, there were still too many of them to call this action a victory just yet. While the invaders in this tiny theatre of the battle were suffering their first defeat of the day, Larabee began the next phase of their struggle. "Rifles!"
Guns were simultaneously raised across the defensive perimeter. Like the others, Chris and Ezra were ready to take advantage of the confusion caused by the blasts. It was not going to last indefinitely and to make it work, they had to act fast.
"Cut them down!" Larabee ordered.
Gunfire erupted simultaneously, creating a concussion of sound so loud that it was almost painful to hear it. The riders reeling from the minefield were now assaulted by what appeared to be a wall of bullets from guns with varying degrees of lethal power. Some managed to escape the torrent of projectiles, but most were cut down. They were still stupefied with shock by the formidable defence to their surprise attack. There was no break in the firing, the rotation prepared beforehand to ensure there would be no pause while someone was reloading. As Chris paused to refill the empty chamber of his gun and discard his spend cartridges, Ezra took up the slack and so it continued like this for what seemed an eternity, even though only minutes had passed by.
Beyond their battle line, bodies covered the field, and those not cut down were reconsidering the notion of dying for a cause when so many around them had fallen Their horses were becoming more panicked with the continued onslaught of ammunition. They were rearing up on their hindquarters, toppling their master and spinning further and further into the chaos as they attempted to evade the gunfire fire coming from all around them. It was hard to say who was more distraught of the two, master or beast, but in the end, death was the great equaliser.
Chris had been hoping that this might happen and when he saw the some of the riders turning tail and running, he felt a flood of relief wash through him. Exchanging glances at Ezra and the general who was sharing his understated elation, he let a small smile curl at the corner of his lips when a slight ripple of cheers broke out amongst the men who were fighting with them. Still, the victory at their front was only of many that had to be won, and the war was by no means over.
Across the camp, Vin Tanner and the men who were assigned the task of providing sniper support were laying waste to the enemy attempting to breach the perimeter through the gully that ran along the northern border. As they stationed themselves along the peak and stared down at the advancing force, Vin loaded his gun again and continued firing into the thickest part of the riders trying to breach their defences. The General stated the night before Julius believed surprise and large numbers would take the place of military strategy. With the fortifications installed by the railway workers doing their worst, it was apparent it was going to be a fatal mistake for the would-be demi-god.
Obviously, Julius counted heavily on the element of surprise because no self-respecting commander with an ounce of sense would send his men into some a vulnerable position with high walls on either side and only one visible means of escape. They would have to traverse the length of the gully to reach the camp, and with snipers positioned on either side, they were effectively penned in. Vin remained dispassionate about the men he was sending to their deaths each time he pulled the trigger since it was Julius who was far more responsible than him. As the barrage of bullets continued to rain down on the helpless soldiers of the Citadel cause, bodies began to cover the ground in a carpet of flesh. Horses bolted away from the scene of the carnage, their animal senses detecting the scent much too prolifically for them to fight their natural instinct to flee.
Vin saw the remaining riders below them starting to panic, barking orders amongst themselves as they attempted to salvage the situation. Still, the dead around them was making it difficult to adhere to rational thinking with any effectiveness. If this was to be ended without further bloodshed, the sharpshooter decided he had to act now.
"Hold your fire!" He shouted to the rest of his companions, consisting of McPhee’s men and the workers on the railway who had prior rifle expertise. Slowly, the discharge of gunfire came to a slow halt, and the enemy below looked up in question at the sudden cessation.
"You men down there got a choice on how you want this to end," Vin shouted, hoping they would take the offer and walk away. "You can drop your guns and go, or we can keep firing until you're all just a pile of corpses like your friends down there."
"How do we know you ain’t gonna shoot us once our back is turned?" One of them retaliated.
"You don’t." Vin continued, wanting no misunderstanding on this. "It doesn’t matter one way or another whether you give it up or not. We’ll cut you down before you even get to the camp, let alone make it out of this gully alive. It doesn’t matter any to us how you leave here, dead or alive, just as long you leave."
Vin held his breath as he waited for their answer although to look at him, one could hardly see if there was anticipation in his eyes. The sharpshooter wore the same unflappable expression as always, hiding how he felt beneath a well-practised mask of indifference. He could see the riders arguing their decision amongst themselves, raised voice and frightened ones blending in a mix of debate until finally, an answer emerged from the mire of choice.
Suddenly a gun dropped to the ground, followed by another and another after that. Very soon, the dirt beneath disappeared under a cache of weaponry ranging from small derringers to long-barrelled rifles like the one Vin carried.
"This ain’t over!" One of the men yelled as they prepared to leave the gully, the sour taste of defeat in their mouths was evident by the anger in their faces. "The Citadel takes care of its enemies, not today or tomorrow, but we’ll be coming for ya!"
Vin’s voice was ice cold when he spoke. "Get going." He said, pulling the trigger of his rifle just to make his point.
The man glared at the tracker before digging his heels into his horse, gesturing to his remaining comrades to follow. A dark storm cloud followed them as they rode away, and Vin felt a slight chill run through his spine as he saw them disappear into the distance because he believed them.
The Citadel was not done with them, not by a long shot.
Similar engagements continued throughout the next few hours with some breaches being made when some of the invaders broke into the camp. With the combined efforts of the seven, McPhee’s men and the Chinese railroad workers to repel them, Julius’s men were soon killed or fleeing. It became apparent Julius established his entire campaign on taking the camp by surprise, believing Ezra only learned about the destruction of the railway tracks, not about the massacre he planned to carry out. While there was death on all sides, the casualties were not as terrible as anticipated. JD had taken a bullet to the shoulder, Josiah was hit in the leg, and the seven suffered a slew of other minor abrasions and lacerations from close-quarters fighting in one form or another. However, at the end of the day, it was the invaders who suffered the worst of the combat.
By nightfall, the battle was more or less ended with their efforts directed towards the cleaning up the destruction that had taken place during the day. The camp suffered much, but as McPhee pointed out, nothing destroyed could not be replaced. The dead distressed the rail boss more and one of the more despised jobs of the evening was the gathering of the bodies preparation of burial. Nathan remained in his medical tent with the doctor he had enlisted for his cause and spent most of his time tending to injuries on either side. The rest of the seven took the task of rounding up the last of Julius’ men who had not been killed, merely captured.
There was no sign of Julius himself.
Chris was right when he assumed Julius would not take an active part in the engagement. He supposed demi-gods did not wallow in the trenches with the rest of their men. Of course, he might have been killed in the fighting over the day, but there were so many bodies it would take time to make that determination. Still, Chris was not holding his breath at finding the man among the dead. Julius was most likely back in the Barrens, waiting for his men to return with news of victory and Chris smiled with a certain amount of satisfaction knowing that the defeat would sting more than any revenge he could deliver upon this former captain.
***********
There was much cleaning up to do in the wake of the battle, and the decision to return to Four Corners with the prisoners was postponed until the morning. Most of the seven was too exhausted after the past two days to make the trip. They needed to recoup their strength and allow the injuries sustained, time to heal at least for the evening. No one argued with Chris when he made the suggestion and were grateful to their leader for the consideration. Although they would be taking turns guarding the prisoners throughout the night, no one was eager to get going anywhere.
After the past three days, Ezra Standish had come to the firm conclusion that he needed a drink.
The gambler made his way to where the horses were kept to retrieve a metal flask he kept in Chaucer’s saddle for emergency use. Unlike the swill enjoyed by most of his comrades, Ezra was in the mood for something more elegant and decided surviving the day definitely earned him some smooth malt whisky. The gambler made his way across the camp, feeling a pang of remorse as he saw the bodies of Chinese workers under sheets, tended to by their stoic countrymen and wished it had not come to this. He thought of Li Pong and was glad he had sent her to San Francisco because he would not have been impressed if she had been present during this situation.
Of course, if Li Pong was still here, a lot of things would be different.
Strange how coming back here brought the memory of her back to his mind when he had hardly given her a second thought in almost a year and a half. He supposed with Julia in his life there was little reason to do that and Li Pong was happy with her family for him to feel any regrets about what she could have meant to him and his life had she remained in Four Corners. Upon leaving the noises of the camp when he neared the outskirts where the horses were corralled, he looked up at the sky to marvel at the beauty of the stars overhead. It was hard to believe that things could be so peaceful now when just hours ago, this was nothing less than a battlefield.
Ezra sighted Chaucer amongst the other horses and immediately hastened his pace to reach his trusted companion. The animal nickered upon seeing him, recognising its master and taking a step forward to greet the human who stroked its lengthy nose on arrival. "Hello, old friend," Ezra spoke out loud, soothing the animal with his smooth and refined voice. "It has been quite a day, has it not?"
Chaucer seemed to agree, nuzzling into his pocket, in search of sugar or some other treat that Ezra often brought it when the gambler return to his horse.
"Sorry," Ezra apologised as he pulled away and went to his saddle. "Nothing today but I promise you a feast when we return to Four Corners in the morning."
Suddenly, out of nowhere, something struck at his knee, buckling his legs from under him and driving him straight into the ground immediately. He let out a soft grunt of pain as he felt the digging of sharp rocks and grit into his flesh when his knees hit the dirt on the ground. Chaucer neighed in disapproval and backed away, causing discourse among the other horses who had to move to accommodate the sudden shift. Ezra went for his gun but never got the chance to reach it. Before he could even graze the butt of the weapon with his fingers, he felt the sharp blade of a knife pressing into his neck. Freezing immediately, he swallowed as he felt a hand holding his head poised over the knife he could not see but definitely felt.
"Mister Standish." The voice said coolly, and Ezra knew immediately that it was Julius.
"Mr Julius," Ezra said confidently, trying to hide his fear and responded in the same voice he used whenever he was about to put down a straight flush and takes someone’s money. To show fear was to give Julius more power over him than he already had since their last encounter, and Ezra was not going to do that again.
"I trusted you." His gloved hand moved over Ezra’s cheek and caressed it, making Ezra stiffen with revulsion at the man’s gentle touch. He lowered his lips to Ezra’s ears and whispered softly with the same seductive tone. "I could have given you the world and everything you ever wanted, but you chose to betray me. I can only believe you did not fully understand what you were being offered, so I make it again."
"You have nothing I want," Ezra said firmly and pulled his head away, daring to risk being cut if it meant giving Julius a clear indication of where his loyalties remained as well as his sexuality for that matter.
"I do not believe that is true," Julius continued, unperturbed by Ezra’s brave words of refusal. "I believe there is a part of you who knows better, that has different ideas about what it wants. I trusted that part of you, but you betrayed me and destroyed my plans to strike a blow towards the regime enslaving us all. I have to assume you are misguided."
"I am hardly misguided Julius," Ezra snapped, feeling the knife breaking the skin. "I just do not believe a damn thing you say! Your campaign is in tatters, and you have as much chance of conquering the world with your genius as you do of having me respond to your advances! So if you are done with your attempt to sway me, I suggest you either kill me now and be done with it or else scamper back under the rock from which you emerged. Either way, you are boring me with your diatribe."
Julius offered a short laugh of amusement. "You wound me, Ezra," he said with a smile Ezra could not see but was confident he was displaying. "This campaign is one of many, and what you discovered in the Barrens is only one of my enclaves. I have such places scattered throughout this country, and the loss of life today is merely a temporary setback. You and the lieutenant have inconvenienced me, nothing more. As for killing you?" Julius paused a moment as his lips brushed against Ezra's cheek, daring the gambler to move.
"Get your hands off me!" Ezra exploded but could not offer much resistance when Julius reminded him of the situation when the blade bit into his skin, and he felt warm blood oozing from a slight cut enough to sting but not to kill him.
"I have no intention of killing you Ezra," Julius continued smoothly after he had put down Ezra’s effort to break free. "I do intend, however, on having you one way or another. I would have preferred you come to me of your own will but rest assured we are far from done. You may tell your master the day is his, but I swear to you Ezra, you and I will meet again and the next time, you will be mine."
With that he planted a firm kiss on the gambler’s cheek and released him. Ezra went for his gun and spun around ready to shoot the bastard dead, but Julius was gone, disappearing into the night like a mist. Ezra searched the shadows to catch sight of the man in his retreat, but there was nothing to see but dark looming shadows seeming more prolific in the light of Julius’s brief appearance.
Ezra took a deep breath and was grateful no one was present because he would not have like to have been seen so shaken, and he was shaken. Something about the threat made suddenly told Ezra Julius no longer considered Chris his hated enemy. He had not killed the gambler this time because he had some terrible revenge planned after he had taken sufficient time to lick his wounds and address his losses. Ezra wiped the blood from his neck where the blade had cut and knew the injury was minor, but the warning Julius had made was not.
Ezra had a feeling if he were to fall into Julius’s power again, he would regret it.
As expected, when the seven returned to the Barrens two days after the army reinforcements arrived to take charge of the prisoners captured during the attempted massacre at the railway camp, the mining facility that was the centre of Julius's power during this entire affair, was abandoned. This came as no surprise to anyone, especially Chris, who knew Julius was too much of a coward to remain and face the music, just like he stayed out of the fighting and let others shed the blood for his victories.
The facility was like a ghost town when they arrived, with everything of value removed until only the buildings remained, waiting to be swept into the dust by the harsh winds travelling across the terrain, dissolving into time like everything else in the Barren. It was a far cry from the place Ezra described when he and Mary had returned only a few days ago. A thorough search was done nonetheless but no one expected to find anything, least of all Julius. Wherever he was, Chris was sure the man was planning ugly vengeance against those who conspired to destroy his dreams of godhood.
Chris and Vin rode to Purgatorio the night before and discovered things in the town returned to normal with the Citadel members who occupied the place departing soon after the attack had failed. No doubt, they left on Julius's orders and would emerge soon enough if what Vin told Chris about the warning made by one of the fanatics chased away by sniper fire. Chris expected it was not the last time they would hear about the dreaded organisation and because the Seven were not only enemies not only to Julius but to the Citadel as well.
Ezra related to them how Julius approached him in the aftermath of the battle and delivered the warning as well as the minor injury to the gambler's neck under the man's blade. There was something in Ezra's narration that seemed out of place like his behaviour had been since his return from the mining facility the night he rescued Mary. Chris sensed there was something Ezra was not telling them. While his trust in Ezra was without question, it worried Chris to see the gambler so unsettled, and he clearly was after the encounter with Julius.
Although Chris wanted to question Ezra further on this, he did not because he had the faint suspicion Ezra would tell him to mind his own business. After years of friendship, Chris had come to recognise there were two sides to Ezra. One persona was the money-loving, professional gambler who would sell his mother (although with Maude it was understandable) for a quick buck. The other side to Ezra, which was not so verbose or cynical, was profoundly private and possessing of more feeling for the people in his life than he would like to admit. If Ezra wanted to remain silent, Chris respected him enough to allow him that. For saving Mary's life, Chris had no trouble giving him that small allowance.
The damage to the railway site was considerable, but it was nothing incapable of being repaired in a few days, McPhee stated the construction work on the tracks would resume in less than a week. In the meantime, families were reunited at the camp once things had settled enough for it to be allowed. The army retrieved the bodies of the soldiers poisoned at Nettie Wells's property to return them to their families. The General had spent an entire afternoon penning a letter to Colonel Markham's family, whom he knew personally after working with the man for so long.
Although his father bore the death of his trusted adjutant stoically, Chris could tell he was saddened by the end of his old friend whom by all accounts was at his side for the last ten years. Chris supposed he would be hit just as hard if he were to lose any of the men riding with him and remembered a terrible instance not too long ago when they believed Vin died. Until he was restored to them, Chris had been unable to imagine life without the tracker riding at his side no matter how much trouble they were in. Chris hoped the General becoming apart of his family in some small way, compensated for that loss.
For Chris himself, even though Julius escaped, he felt strangely at peace at the way things transpired, even reaching some form of resolution. Of course, if the man who taught him to despise anyone who put a bullet in another's back, ever strayed back into his sights again, Chris would see to it that Julius regretted the encounter, but for himself, Chris was in no hurry to seek him out. Also, after twenty-one years of soul searching and deep-seated guilt over his expulsion from the Academy, Chris was finally able to let go of that particular burden. His father did not judge his actions and was willing to forgive him. With a soul bearing too much already, Chris was pleased to let go of one of his demons.
He would never shake them all away, but at least he was making a start.
"What a mess." Buck looked at the ruins of the shack now the crisis was over, and they finally had time to pay some attention to the damage done by the Citadel when they tried to recover the nitro.
"No, kidding." Vin agreed, unhappy to see the first real home of his own in such a state of destruction. Even though he had not called the place home for little than a few months, it did pain him to see Chris's gift to him end up like this. Nothing much remained of the building except a pile of ashes and burned wood after the shack collapsed upon itself when the fire had eaten away the support beams.
"Well think of it this way," Nathan surveyed wreckage with as much distaste, recalling how terrible it felt when they had first sighted the destruction. For a moment, none of them was aware whether or not Vin, Josiah, JD and Alex had made it out of there alive. "Now you got the chance to rebuild the way you like."
"And big enough for two." Alex pointed out, trying to make her fiancee feel better because she could see in his eyes the sadness of losing the shack. Considering she shared so many nights here with him, Alex felt rather emotional about it too. Although her arm was still in a sling, the lady was much improved in health when she sidled up next to Vin and slid her uninjured arm under his heavy coat and pulled herself closer to him.
"Yeah," Vin smiled at that. He liked the idea that soon, he would be able to share every night with her and also the mornings that came after. As it was, the hours Vin spent with Alex out here was as close to heaven as he could possibly imagine. Draping his arm across her shoulder, he savoured her warmth next to him and added. "Ain't gonna be nothing fancy though. I ain't that great at house building."
"You'll manage," Josiah quipped, the preacher was feasting on some sandwiches Mary laid out on a picnic blanket. He took a swallow and then added. "With a little help from us, of course."
"Sure," Buck nodded in agreement as he joined his wife since the idea of building would have to wait until they got back into town for materials. Besides, they needed to sit down and take stock of how Vin would want the place rebuilt. As Alex had just mentioned, the shack would no longer be for one. "Why not? Everything about this place seems to become a group effort sooner than later."
"I think its admirable," Mary remarked. The editor of the Clarion News was stretched out on a blanket, occasionally glancing up from her book while lazing in the afternoon sun.
The seven were out here today to assess the damage incurred to the Lucky 7 ranch during their firefight with the Citadel as well as checking on the horses. As it was a beautiful day outside, the women opted for a picnic outdoors to enjoy the sunshine and catch up with each other while their men took stock of what needed doing around the ranch in the wake of the destruction.
As Mary surveyed the scene before her, she smiled, seeing Inez next to her bouncing Elena Rose in her lap. The little baby was giggling quite happily as her mother played with her and made everyone who happened to glance at her cherubic face smile. Julia was basking in the sunshine from under Ezra's hat, while the gambler lay next to his lady, playing a game of solitaire where Julia would prod at him now and then at where a card should go. Vin, Nathan and Alex were still looking over the damage to the shack. As Mary looked at the doctor, her journalistic sense told her even now Alex was envisioning what the new home was going to be, especially with a feminine touched added to the overall design.
"Well, the horses are okay." JD Dunne announced as he and Casey Wells joined them. The youth volunteered to check the horses and furnished them with feed. Although he would be hard-pressed to admit it, JD loved helping out at the ranch, especially when he was allowed to tend to the horses. As a boy in the city, the horses he managed to at the fancy school his mother worked were the closest things he could imagine to being in the west. It was an affection that still continued now, even though he had his own and did actually in the west. "I got them watered and fed."
"You mean, I did." Casey reminded with a hint of teasing in her voice. "You're not supposed to be doing hard work, remember?"
"I remember Casey," JD groaned, wishing his girl was no so difficult some times. "I could have done it myself, you didn't have to help me."
"I'm glad she did," Nathan glanced at the young sheriff long enough to say firmly. "At least one of you have got sense."
"See?" Casey smirked at him in triumph and JD shrugged his shoulders, deciding he was never going to win this argument and conceded defeat by spotting food and heading towards it.
"Thanks to both of you anyway," Vin replied after all that. He was sifting through the ashes of the shack with his boot, trying to see if anything could be salvaged.
"So you will be staying out here Alex, after the wedding?" Julia Pemberton inquired. The fiery headed Emporium owner appeared like something out of a portrait as her yellow dress bloomed around her and really did look as if she ought to be captured on canvas with the sunlight bouncing off her creamy skin.
"Yes," Alex nodded, pulling away from the tracker so she could join the others and leaving Vin and Nathan to their ruminations about the new shack. "I'll still have the clinic in town, but it's not too far to travel back and forth from here. Besides, it might even be peaceful not having people knock on my door for minor injuries that can wait until morning."
"That means they'll come after me," Nathan remarked with a slight frown as he turned away from Vin long enough to point out.
"Hey, I didn't say it was a perfect plan," Alex winked at the healer with mischief and created chuckles all around when he pretended to throw his hat at her.
"So," Inez asked with more than just passing curiosity. "When are you two getting married?"
"Come on, honey," Buck automatically jumped in, perfectly aware of where she was going with this. "You got enough to do as it is without getting it in your head to plan a wedding too." It was true. With the baby and Inez returning on a limited basis to the saloon to do the cooking, her time was becoming increasingly finite, and Buck did not want her to overdo things.
"Buck," Inez gave him a look of playful confidence, taking no offence at his caution because she knew that he was only thinking of her. "You have no idea how versatile I can be." Her eyes twinkled with suggestion as Buck's grin grew wider.
"Darling," he offered her a grin just as full of salacious intent before tweaking the nose of his little daughter who chortled in delight, "I know just how talented you can be." Both husband and wife laughed, enjoying what appeared to be a very private joke.
"And with that," Ezra spoke up over the sound of their voices. "I think we can safely move along to another subject. In fact, any subject." The gambler swept his gaze at the faces around him for someone to move away from the embarrassing topic of Buck Wilmington's love life. It's not like they weren't regaled by the tales of his exploits endlessly during his bachelor years without having to endure the same ordeal during his adventures in matrimonial bliss as well.
"Like a wedding," Josiah suggested devilishly and earned a dark look from Vin for bringing back the conversation to that volatile subject once more. He hoped they would move onto something else because Inez was getting that voracious look in her eyes and Vin was certain the Mexican was picturing him in a suit even as they spoke.
Alex, who noticed Vin starting to squirm with the possibility of a large wedding, shook her head in exasperation and decided she was going to put a stop to this right now. "Contrary to popular belief and those of you who have been offering my dear fiancee' so much good advice he's itching to take off for the hills, I do not want a big wedding." She stated firmly for the benefit of those around her, giving Vin a look of impatience at being so thick-headed about not listening to her no matter how many times she stressed the point.
"So you say." Ezra teased.
Alex turned to Julia and said sweetly. "Now Miss Pemberton, didn't you say you wanted a big wedding with all the trimmings when you and Ezra finally took the plunge? You know the kind with a dozen bridesmaids and a party lasting a week? I mean you two have been together just as long as Vin and I, so how is it you two aren't discussing wedding plans?" She asked smugly, hoping Julia caught on.
Miss Pemberton, who rarely let anything slip by her, took the opportunity to indulge in some harmless fun at Ezra's expense and nodded in excitement. "Absolutely!" She declared with just enough enthusiasm in her voice to give Ezra concern. "In my family, we had large weddings. Why everyone in town turned up and then some. It was truly magical. I hope someday my wedding is that romantic, whenever that is going to be....." She let out a longing sight in a performance to rival Maude Standish at her very best and left Ezra's mouth hanging open. The rest of his friends were laughing out loud at the sheer panic on his face that his love might be considering the possibility of a wedding seriously.
"And I could plan it!" Inez added, enjoying seeing Ezra perspiring profusely.
"You're obsessed!" Mary exclaimed and prodded Inez in exasperation while she laughed, joining in the fun they were all enjoying as Ezra began to appear very nervous.
"Now Julia," Ezra started to speak after he regained enough equilibrium to do so. "We talked about this, remember? You didn't want to get married just yet."
"Boy," Nathan chuckled. "I ain't seen you this nervous since you lost your shirt at the tables." The healer enjoyed it when Ezra was taken to task for his actions or lack of them. However, he had to admit being inordinately grateful Rain was not present during this conversation. Talk about opening a can of worms!
Ezra was not about to cry defeat at least without taking someone else with him. "It seems to me Mrs Wilmington, you ought to plan an affair for yourself." His eyes narrowed with a wicked smirk as he looked at Buck. "After all, you do deserve so much better than the nuptials you received when you formalised your attachment to Mr Wilmington."
"Shut up Ezra," Buck tried to growl quietly but was unfortunately heard by Inez, who was immediately outraged by his attempt to silence Ezra on the subject.
"What do you mean shut up Ezra?" Inez glared at him. "I always wanted a nice wedding, and instead I got an I do in between labour pains."
"Not to mention a tracker for your bridesmaid," Ezra added just to add fuel to the fire. "Although," he looked at Vin with teasing smile, warning everyone to never assume he was done for the count. "He did look might fetching with all that hair."
"Hey!" Vin bit back incensed. "The only reason you weren't the bridesmaid was that we didn't have no dress for you to put on."
"A dress?" Julia said blankly, searching everyone's face for an explanation. "What's this about a dress?"
"Oh, no....." Ezra stared at his friends and issued a warning to everyone they had better not think about telling Julia that story. It was embarrassing enough as it was, without having to relive it through the narration of others. He did not care how funny a tale it was.
"Come on, Ezra," Josiah was grinning, seeing the warning and ignoring it all together "Sing something for us."
"Something soft and pretty," Nathan added, delighting as Ezra went red and started to fume as Julia became more insistent on knowing what this was about.
"Come on, Ezra," Casey joined in. "What about this dress?"
"I didn't even know you could sing." Julia chimed in; sensing something hilarious if Ezra's determination to remain silent was any indication.
"I think it was Red River Valley wasn't it?" JD asked, no one in particular and even though the answer was unimportant, the crimson colour filtering into Ezra's face was.
The group started arguing amongst themselves, with Inez demanding to know why Buck had a problem with them having a wedding. Ezra was just about to choke the life out of the next person attempting to bring up the matter of his dress. Alex was trying desperately to convince Vin she really did want a small ceremony for their wedding, while the others simply enjoyed the chaos. In the midst of all this, Mary took up Elena Rose from her arguing parents, who hardly noticed in their 'discussion' and looked at the child with a warm smile.
"Come on," she said, cradling the baby in her arms as she rose to her feet. "Let's go find Chris."
Mary did not have far to walk before she found him, his father and Billy sitting at the edge of the nearby creek where they often came to fish whenever time permitted. Leaving the bickering of the so-called adults behind, the editor of the Clarion News and her best friend's daughter took the familiar trail through the woods until she heard the bubbling sounds of water rushing by at a lethargic pace. Chris was lazing back on the grass, his fishing rod firmly planted into the grass while the general, who was not in uniform, was showing Billy how to tie a fly.
"Hey, ma!" Billy waved happily as he saw his mother approaching and his announcement of her arrival made the two Larabee men look over their shoulder at her approach.
"Hello," Mary smiled as she joined Chris on the grass beside him. "I thought I'd come and see what my boys are up to."
"Not much," Chris remarked as Mary leaned over and kissed him before she nestled comfortably beside him on the ground, sitting cross-legged as Elena Rose stared fascinated by the swaying of her gold hair. The child soon had her tiny fist around a lock and was making a tentative attempt to see if it tasted as good as it looked.
"I thought I'd take Elena Rose away from the others. It was getting pretty ugly over there." She said with a smile.
"Trouble?" Chris asked instinctively.
"Wedding talk," Mary replied shortly and needed to make no further explanation.
"Vin making for Mexico yet?" The gunslinger asked as he tickled Elena rose under her chin and saw a toothless smile beaming back at him.
"Almost there." Mary giggled, remembering the expression on Vin's face when she departed.
"Boy's going to get himself an ulcer before he even gets to a preacher." Larabee pointed out with the barest hint of a smile.
Unfortunately, Mary could not disagree with that assessment. "Alex is trying to calm him down, but you know Vin."
"He's a good kid." The General added once he gave Billy the proper instruction on how to cast his line into the water. "A little quiet but nevertheless a good kid."
Chris knew his father well enough to know it was the General's way of approving of his companions and also revealing a more profound liking for Vin as just one of the men Chris rode with. Like Chris himself, Marcus Larabee was seeing the same things he saw in Vin Tanner the first time they met. Although the General did not voice it, Chris suspected his father thought of Vin as the son he lost and Chris as the son he returned. There was no other way to be more specific than that, it was just a feeling, and it pleased Chris to know that since he and Vin were already brothers.
"It' a shame you can't stay longer," Mary sighed, enjoying having a full house these past few days. In the aftermath of their engagement with the Citadel and Hannibal Julius, the General was enjoying the Larabee household's hospitality. It felt as if their family was growing in leaps and bounds and Mary liked it.
"I have to get back to Washington," Larabee answered honestly. "In light of what has happened here, I need to re-evaluate our existing strategy in cornering the Citadel. It's obvious now they're more than dangerous than we originally thought. What happened here could be just the start of a fully-fledged campaign of terror."
"How awful." Mary shuddered, remembering the insanity she had seen in Julius's eyes and knew to have such a man in charge of so many and had to be someone's nightmare come true. It was undoubtedly hers.
"I don't doubt it," Chris said, not really concerned for the moment. No doubt, Julius would come back this way, but the next time Chris would be ready for him and the self-styled demi-god would not escape so easily. "We'll keep an eye out for him here."
"Do that," Larabee warned with just enough tension in his voice to mean it. "He's got a personal stake when it comes to you."
"So do I," Chris answered, with menace surfacing in his voice to confirm Julius would be the one at a disadvantage if the man came after the Larabee family again.
"Well, I hope you will come back for the christening." Mary smiled, moving off the topic to something a little closer to home.
"Couldn't keep me away," Larabee replied, casting his daughter in law a look of warmth. "Good thing about being a general at my age, is I get more time to attend to personal matters."
"Don't be a stranger," Chris admitted finally. "You got family here who would be happy to have you come back any time."
Father and son exchanged a look of silent contemplation for a few seconds, and though they were separated by twenty-one years of misconception and pride, it was good to know things between them were at last resolved. Perhaps they would never be able to hurdle the loss of those years and Chris suspected there was still much work needed before their relationship could return to what it was, but then anything was possible.
If Chris Larabee had learned one thing in the last three years, life was full of surprises, and this one was one he did not mind at all.