Kings Pinnacle

by Robert Gourley

  “Let’s get back to the inn, get something to eat, stable our horses, and rent a room so we can get some sleep. It’s likely going to be a long night,” continued Robert as he led the way back into the inn.

  * * * *

  Alex

  The Iroquois raiding party was fairly easy to follow since the trail was fresh and they were not trying to hide their tracks. They also had no idea that they were being followed. The Longhunter and Alex had given the pioneer couple as decent a burial as they could, in spite of the urgency of the situation. They paused and said a few words over the hastily dug grave before they mounted their horses and rode off at a trot. To save time, they had buried the couple side-by-side in one grave, thinking that the couple wouldn’t mind and maybe even would have preferred it.

  The trail that the Iroquois band left was leading the men west northwest toward an Iroquois village or longhouses as the Iroquois called them. They were on the trail for most of the afternoon when they spied fresh sign that the warriors were near.

  Alex and the Longhunter almost rode directly into the Iroquois camp before they realized it was there, but the Longhunter stopped them just in time, and they back-tracked until they could work their way south to some low hills. The band was camped in a small ravine beside a creek near some scrubby trees. Alex and the Longhunter tied up their horses and hiked up the highest nearby hill so that they could look down into the camp with the sun at their backs. The hills were very rocky and rough. There were plenty of places to hide and plenty of cover that they could use to observe the camp. The main problem with the location they had selected was that they were situated almost three hundred yards from the Iroquois camp.

  The Longhunter pulled out a small spy glass that he had acquired in Williamsport and looked into the camp. Alex’s young eyes did not need a telescope to let him know what was going on in the camp. Some of the warriors were just setting up camp for the night and getting the horses picketed while another group was gathering downed wood to start a fire. The captured girl was sitting on the ground next to some scrubby trees, as far away from the braves as she could get. She wasn’t tied up and appeared to be in good condition in spite of the death of her parents, her captivity, and the long ride that followed.

  “We’ll wait till nightfall and make our move after most of the braves are asleep,” whispered the Longhunter to Alex, who was lying beside him just below the crest of the hill, where they had positioned themselves so that they would not be silhouetted against the skyline.

  “Sounds good to me,” whispered Alex as he pulled up his rifle, Slayer, and sighted in on one of the warriors down his long barrel.

  “That’d be a pretty fair shot from up here. It’s about two hundred and fifty yards,” whispered the Longhunter. He knew that the normal accuracy of a smooth bore musket was only about a hundred yards or maybe a little more. He had no idea that Alex’s range was well beyond that because of the modifications that he had made to his rifle barrel and sights.

  “Yep,” whispered Alex as he zeroed in on the brave, looking down the rifle sights.

  As the sun dropped below the hilly skyline, the camp became cloaked in the shadow of the hills located just to the west of the camp. Alex and the Longhunter were lying just below the ridge, so they were in shadows, as well as being well-concealed behind some rocks and brush. As the light was fading, two of the young Iroquois braves walked over to where the girl was sitting and began to paw at her. The girl fought back bravely, but Alex and the Longhunter knew what the outcome of this battle was going to be, and they didn’t like the prospect of watching what was unfolding before their eyes.

  “Change of plans,” whispered Alex as he pulled his musket flintlock back to cock the weapon and sighted his barrel toward the unfolding drama being played out below him. Alex didn’t hesitate to enter into the fray to try to save the girl, or into any fight for that matter. If he thought he was right, he never looked back, regardless of the odds. He looked at the tree tops nearby to gauge the strength and direction of the wind. Then he calculated the effects of gravity on the musket ball since he was shooting downward from near the crest of the hill.

  One of the Iroquois was just standing by watching while the other one bent down and started tearing open the buttons on the back of the girl’s dress. The girl fought back as well as she could, but she was no match for the greater strength of the Iroquois. As soon as the brave had partially undressed her, he stood up next to his friend and began to unfasten the laces on his buckskin pants. When the big Iroquois turned to say something to his friend, Alex waited for just the right moment in his breathing, aimed Slayer just above and slightly to the left of the head of the Iroquois nearest to him to account for the wind, and then he squeezed the trigger. In less than a second, both Iroquois fell to the ground dead as the single musket ball passed through the neck of the brave nearest to Alex and then traveled onward through the chest of the other warrior. Alex had killed two warriors with one musket ball, a shot for the record books. If luck had not been on his side and the two Iroquois had not lined up so perfectly for him, he would never have had the chance to make a shot like that.

  The Longhunter had watched the shot through his small telescope and chuckled softly. Then he reached over to pat Alex on the shoulder to congratulate him on the shot, but Alex was already gone.

  As the two Iroquois fell to the ground, the sound of the gun discharge suddenly echoed back and forth between the hills across the ravine. It was difficult for the braves to tell exactly which direction the shot had come from in the twilight, but Alex was already on the move. As soon as he had fired the shot, he jumped up and ran back in a crouch over the crest of the hill to reload Slayer. The girl had gotten up, gathered up as much of her tattered clothing as she could, and run toward the low hills, away from the warriors. The Iroquois had all dived to the ground for cover as soon as they heard the shot. They appeared to be still confused about where the shot had come from.

  Alex worked his way back around in the direction that the girl was running and took up another firing position about a hundred yards away from where the Longhunter was lying. The Iroquois band was just beginning to unravel the situation and figure out where the shot had come from. As soon as the first Iroquois stood up and started moving in the direction the girl had fled so that he could recover her, Alex fired again and dropped him to the ground with a musket ball through his chest. This shot had come from a slightly different direction and the echo of its discharge further confused the warriors.

  The Longhunter got the idea about what Alex was doing and pulled up his musket, aiming it toward the Iroquois. He knew that he wasn’t even in the same league as Alex in marksmanship or range, but his shots could keep the braves down and make them think they were facing a greater number enemies.

  Alex dropped back over the rise to reload Slayer and move further along the ridge toward the young woman.

  * * * *

  Robert and Hugh

  It was an hour before midnight, when a ruckus in the inn downstairs instantly brought Robert fully awake.

  “Get up Hugh and grab your gear,” said Robert as he shook Hugh awake.

  The disturbance downstairs was getting louder and coming up the inn’s stairs toward the sleeping rooms. Robert pushed open the single window of their room and climbed out onto the window sill. It was full dark outside, but the half moon lit up the landscape and buildings below. Their room was located at the back of the inn, and the room’s window opened onto a narrow lane behind the inn rather than onto the small inner courtyard like most of the other rooms in the inn. Robert jumped down from the sill onto the roof of a storage shed that had been built behind the inn, and Hugh soon followed suit after closing the window. No sooner had they jumped when a soldier kicked open the door to their room.

  “Where are they?” asked the Sheriff of Wigtown after he had surveyed the room and found the men missing.

  He turned to the fat innkeeper and gave him a questioning look.

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nbsp; “They must be in a different room. Search the whole inn,” shouted the innkeeper to the soldiers who had kicked in the door following orders from the sheriff.

  Robert and Hugh climbed down off the storage shed’s roof and entered the inn’s stable through its back door. It took only a few moments to saddle up their horses and sling their bags behind their saddles. Rather than ride out through the courtyard and alert their pursuers, they walked their horses out the back door of the stable and into the alley behind the inn, where they mounted up and rode silently away.

  Robert led the way on Hack as they turned west out of Stranraer on the military road back toward Portpatrick. In the darkness, he almost missed the trail that forked to the right, which was the north-south trail that ran along the west bank of Loch Ryan. But he saw it just in time and reined Hack to the right. Robert estimated that it was not yet midnight, so he hoped that the old fisherman might be a little early.

  * * * *

  Alex

  Alex and the Longhunter were alternating taking shots at the warriors every minute or so and Alex was moving to a new position after each shot he fired. The alternating shots, coming from different directions, were keeping the Iroquois down under cover and completely confused as Alex moved closer and closer to the girl with each succeeding leap. Alex’s shots were doing much more damage than the Longhunter’s shots, but the Longhunter was picking big easy targets and had killed two of the Iroquois’ ponies, which to the tribe were almost as valuable as a warrior.

  Alex finally reached a position near the girl. He moved out away from the hills so that she could see him. She didn’t see him at first, but after he whistled at her, she finally saw him. He motioned for her to come over to him, so she changed directions and ran over to where Alex was waiting. She stood there looking at him while holding what was left of her torn dress over her chest.

  The girl was nearly unclothed from the waist up, so Alex pulled off his shirt and handed it to her while trying to keep his eyes averted. She turned away from him and slipped his shirt over her head. Then she tied her skirts up with a piece of cloth that she tore off the bottom of her dress so that she could run without tripping or mount a horse without worrying about her skirts. The girl was a lot smaller than Alex had expected, and she looked to Alex like she was a bit younger than the Longhunter had estimated. Alex also thought that she was easily one of the prettiest girls that he had ever seen. She evidently was a plucky fighter, enduring the Iroquois and still having the presence of mind to escape when she got the chance.

  “Are you okay?” asked Alex.

  The girl nodded her head in a manner that reminded Alex of his brother Robert.

  “Thanks for the shirt, and thanks for saving me,” replied the girl.

  “You put up a good fight, but they were too big, and there were too many of them. Let’s get out of here,” replied Alex.

  Together they ran back below the hills to join the Longhunter, while stopping occasionally for Alex to take a shot at the band, just to keep them down. It took them a short while to work their way back to the Longhunter’s perch. The darkness was deepening as the evening wore on.

  When they arrived back at the Longhunter’s location, they were both out of breath. The Longhunter nodded to the girl and noticed that she was wearing Alex’s shirt. He thought that Alex was pretty chivalrous to give the girl his shirt. He didn’t know if he would have thought of that or not if he had rescued the girl.

  “Are you okay now?” the Longhunter asked the girl.

  “I’m fine, Mr. Glendenning. What are we going to do now?”

  “We can’t keep this up long. They’ll soon figure a way to come at us, and there’s too many of them and not enough of us,” said the Longhunter.

  “Maybe we should make a run for it,” said Alex.

  “That was my thought exactly. Ye two ride the grey, she can carry ye both and I’ll ride the pony,” replied the Longhunter.

  Alex, the girl, and the Longhunter ran beside the horses for a distance until they were well out of earshot of the warrior band. Then they mounted the horses and rode off at a gallop with the Longhunter taking the lead, followed by Alex with the girl sitting behind him. Alex was following the Longhunter as closely as he could in the gathering darkness.

  It didn’t take the Iroquois long to determine that no more shots were being fired at them when they moved around, so they mounted up and rode a circuit around the ravine ridge in order to determine how many had attacked them and which way they had gone. They soon found the trail and determined that it was only two horses, so they took off after them into the night, in hot pursuit.

  As Alex let the grey run, the girl wrapped her arms around his waist with her hands locked tightly together at his stomach, holding on for dear life as they rode on the moonlit trail. Alex was keenly aware of her body pressed firmly against his back. The Longhunter was riding the pony well ahead, and Alex was pressing the grey to follow as closely as he dared.

  Just when it looked like they would get away with taking the girl from the warriors and escaping, the grey jumped a shallow ditch. In the dark, her front hooves landed in a hole and both of her front fetlocks cracked like twin shots. The horse stumbled forward, throwing Alex and the girl over its head to the ground. Alex and the girl rolled with the fall and got right up, but the grey did not. In addition to her fetlocks, the hard fall had also broken the horse’s neck, and she lay dead on her side in the middle of the trail.

  The Longhunter stopped the pony as soon as he realized no one was following him. He quickly rode back to where the girl and Alex were standing in the trail looking at the grey horse. As soon as he arrived at the disaster, he bolted out of his saddle to the ground.

  “Here, ye two take the pony. I will hold them off so that ye can get away,” said the Longhunter holding the reins out to Alex.

  “Not on your life,” replied Alex. “I’m not leaving you here to face the Iroquois alone. The girl can take the pony; you and I can hold them off while she gets away.”

  Alex didn’t wait for a reply from the Longhunter. He picked up the girl and lifted her into the saddle, handed her the reins, and slapped the pony on its flank, sending it off to the east into the darkness, away from the Iroquois.

  * * * *

  Robert and Hugh

  “We may hae gotten away without being followed,” said Hugh, as he and Robert rode along the trail north on the west bank of Loch Ryan.

  Robert nodded, but then added, “Don’t count on it.”

  They heard the horses coming after them before they saw them; it was the sheriff and a dozen troops. The fat innkeeper had sold them out and probably had collected a bounty on them or at least had been promised one upon their capture. Hugh hoped he would have a chance to get even with the fat innkeeper who had been wiping the tankard with the dirty towel some day in the near future.

  The sheriff and the troops were riding fast and had nearly caught up with them after about two miles on the trail north along the western shore of the loch. Robert and Hugh picked up the pace to stay just ahead of their pursuers. But they knew that there was no way they could find the old fisherman, get into the boat, and cast off before the troops would be on them. That was when they would be captured unless they came up with something else.

  “Halt and surrender,” shouted the sheriff at the two fleeing brothers, who ignored the warning.

  As Robert rode along the shore trail, he kept glancing out into the loch. In a few minutes he saw what he was looking for. It was a fishing boat’s lamp hanging from a mast that looked to be about two or three hundred yards offshore. Without looking at Hugh, he kicked Hack in the flanks to pick up the pace, in order to put some more distance between them and their pursuers. Hugh kept pace with Robert and soon they had opened up a gap of about a hundred yards ahead of the sheriff and the soldiers.

  “Hugh, follow me,” shouted Robert as he pulled Hack’s reins to the right when he saw an opening in the brush that grew alongside the trail.
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br />   The horses took them down the shore toward the beach, with Hugh following closely behind Robert. Instead of stopping at the water, Robert rode Hack straight out into the loch, slipped out of his saddle and started swimming behind his horse toward the boat’s lamp while holding onto Hack’s tail. Hugh followed Robert, swimming behind him without asking any questions.

  The sheriff and the troops followed behind them, right down to the water’s edge.

  “They’re daft,” shouted the sheriff who had no idea what the two men were doing. Since it was dark, no one could see the Scar off in the distance and the sheriff didn’t realize that it jutted that far south out into the loch. He was from Wigtown and not all that familiar with Stranraer and the surrounding area. The sheriff also saw the boat lamp but thought that it was most likely a fisherman headed out to get an early start on the day’s catch.

  “The loch is three miles wide here. There’s no way they can swim all the way across it. Let’s ride up to where the Scar meets the shore and make our way down it from there to see if we can tell what they’re up to,” said the sheriff thinking that Robert and Hugh would soon realize their mistake and swim toward the nearest shore. The sheriff left a few of the troops on the shore where Robert and Hugh had entered the water, just in case they doubled back. He led the rest of the troops back up the bank to the trail and then rode north toward the well-known fork where the Scar met the shore line.

  Robert and Hugh swam their horses up to the Scar and waded out of the water onto the sandbank. Grabbing their saddle bags off their horses and running over to the boat where it was resting on the Scar, they threw their bags over the gunwale where the old fisherman was sitting at the tiller.