The riders never knew what hit them.
I just stood there, riveted in place and anxious. I couldn’t use my rifle, I couldn’t shoot — I’d hit my girls.
Then something knocked me from behind — took me right off my feet and down to the ground. My rifle went flying, discharging with an almighty boom as it hit the dirt.
What a fool I’d been. The frontal attack had just been a distraction …
I fell heavily but managed to grab my handgun as I went. I lay face up, my attacker on top and snarling down into my face. I slammed his pistol out of his hand with a numbing block to the wrist then grabbed his throat … hard, my fingers digging cruel inches deep into the flesh. His neck was surprisingly slim and soft. He gagged, his eyes bulging with pain and surprise.
I brought up my right hand with my pistol cocked, ready to blow his head off. ‘Tell your men to drop their guns,’ I growled, jabbing the muzzle of my pistol into the side of his head, ‘… while you still can.’
As my attacker digested that order I pushed him off me, noticing he was surprisingly light and well padded. Then I saw his body. He was a she.
My attacker was female.
They all were.
With my pistol trained on her, I scooped up my rifle, slinging it back over my shoulder, then took the guerrilla leader’s gun.
The woman’s Spanish hidalgo features were the elder twin of the fourteen-year-old nun who’d cooed over my mares back at Our Lady of the Wilderness. But her black eyes were fixed in an expression as hard and sharp as if they were knives she could plunge through my heart. She was prepared to defend her territory to the death. Preferably mine.
‘I’m here on business, nothing more,’ I said. ‘I just want to talk to your Abbess and then I’ll be gone.’
Her eyes lit up in denial. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’
‘Don’t bother, sweetheart, yesterday your kid sister watered my horses. I know you’re part of Our Lady of the Wilderness.’
I shucked out the bullets and then handed back her gun, handle first. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
My mares had the five riders packed like sardines up against the canyon wall, their teeth still bared and awaiting my orders. The riders must have submitted quickly or they’d have been stomped into the ground. And if these women had been real desperados, they would’ve shot my girls.
I dusted myself off and surveyed the leader and her crew. They were all female, all Hispanic.
What the hell were these women doing out in the middle of nowhere? And how had they learnt to ambush, guerrilla-style?
I whistled.
Incendio, Duquesa and Azucar spun in an instant and a second later were hanging over my shoulders, checking out the leader’s intentions. They relaxed.
The woman stepped back a pace at the sight. ‘Who are you and what are you doing on our territory?’ she challenged.
Our territory?
‘As I just told you,’ I said with gritted teeth, ‘I’ve come to speak with the Abbess. I need her advice.’ Surely that sounded sufficiently non-threatening?
The rest of her crew walked up to us, leading their trembling horses and skirting my girls’ heels. They were all covered in dust and there were bruises and grazes here and there but nothing too serious. They’d been handled by professionals. The women eyed my three mares with a surreal combination of fear, awe and intense envy.
One of them said, ‘They’re the Galindo mares, aren’t they?’
I nodded.
The women sighed, like fans meeting their idols.
‘Men aren’t allowed here,’ barked the leader, irritated at her crew’s disaffection. ‘How did you know how to find us?’
‘Brother Buenaventura told me,’ I lied.
Her stunned expression said those were the magic words. They all went into a huddle, arguing in Spanish over what to do with me.
‘Just why do you need to speak to the Abbess?’ barked the leader.
‘I’m just passing through … I need directions from her to reach my destination.’ I added for good measure, ‘Brother Buenaventura said the Abbess would help me. That’s why I’m here.’
That did it; they decided to take me with them. One girl raced ahead, the rest of us followed at a trot.
26
THE ABBESS
We climbed out of the canyon and up into a high, forested valley.
I got a big shock when I saw what was on the other side of the forest. There sat an adobe village. Around the central square were a church, a park and enough houses to hold over several hundred people. In the middle was a watchtower the spitting image of the one in Our Lady of the Wilderness, just bigger and taller.
The convent was obviously just a cover, a fortified lookout post for here.
The inhabitants poured out to stare as we rode past. They were mainly Hispanic, with a few Anglos here and there; some were carrying babies with children around their knees. I scanned the crowd. There were at least five hundred people here but not one adult male — just women, girls and some young boys. Most of them returned my gaze with surprise mixed with open aggression, but here and there a woman looked on me with fear and gathered her children to her skirts.
A village of women in the middle of nowhere.
I dismounted. Once I gave up my weapons, they agreed to take me to the Abbess. Mother Leocadia was tending her vegetables in a lush garden. Like Brother Buenaventura’s patch, these were outsized examples of how splendid vegetation can grow under the right cultivation.
A tame deer wandered at her side, nosing the giant green leafy spinach she was weeding around. She tsked at the deer and gently pushed its nose away.
The Abbess, wearing the same red-brown camo habit as the nuns at the convent, rose from her knees to examine me. She took her time, first studying my red braids and top hat and then my eyes. I returned the attention. Mother Leocadia was tall, dark and had exactly the same hooked nose as some of the nuns and all of the portraits of the Spanish grandees back at the convent. So they all had to be related in some way, but not, judging from what I’d just seen, to everyone else in this self-made town …
‘What are you doing here?’ Her tone as well as her expression declared this was her territory and she would brook no resistance. Her English was perfect — upper class, just ever so lightly dusted with a Spanish accent.
‘I’m just looking for directions, ma’am.’ I doffed my hat respectfully. ‘Brother Buenaventura told me that you could help.’ Again the friar’s name worked wonders. Confusion warred with her temper and she took it back a notch to a slow simmer.
‘Directions to where?’
‘Spruce Tree Mesa.’
Her frown snapped back and deeper into place. That hadn’t won me any friends.
‘No!’ she barked. ‘There’s no such place.’ The Abbess wasn’t used to lying and she didn’t do it well.
‘We both know it does exist,’ I said gently, ‘and that you know exactly where it is.’
The Abbess studied my red braids again with hard eyes. ‘Why should I help you do anything?’
‘Because the sooner you do, the sooner I’m on my way out of here.’
‘You’re that bounty hunter, John Eriksen … Aren’t you?’ she accused.
I nodded.
So she knew about Eriksen? She may be out in the middle of nowhere but somehow the Abbess was keeping herself well informed of what was going on in the outside world. I bet that was where Brother Buenaventura came in. And judging from the well-stocked village, I bet she had a variety of supply lines that reached all the way down to Mexico.
‘Why shouldn’t I just bury your body in my mulch heap?’ she said coldly.
The deer nosed her hand, seeking more attention.
I purposely looked at the deer, then back into her dark eyes. ‘Because you’re not a killer …’ I qualified that. ‘Well, not without good reason.’ The Abbess had been determined enough to build the fortified convent and this village in the
middle of the wilderness, so she must also be prepared to do whatever it took to defend it.
‘You’re a bounty hunter, a notorious murderer.’ The last word sounded like a poison she wanted to wash from her tongue. ‘I’m not helping you do a single thing.’
I had to lay my cards on the table. ‘I’m not after any bounty —’
Her black eyes flashed disbelief. ‘That’s a lie! You’re after Coyote Jack’s head.’
‘Ma’am.’ I put my right hand on my heart and raised the other as though taking an oath. ‘I swear on all that I hold good and true that I am not here on a bounty hunt. And I sincerely hope to never clap eyes on this Coyote Jack. In fact, I sincerely hope that everyone in Santa Fe is right … and that as we speak he’s heading south to his hideout in Mexico.’
Boy, was that the complete truth!
The Abbess seemed to soften as she read the truth in my face, but fought against her instincts.
‘No, siree,’ I drawled for good measure, ‘I’m here on the trail of the banker’s kid, Hector Kershaw. That’s who I’m looking for.’
‘Kershaw.’ Her eyes narrowed with disbelief. ‘You mean the only survivor of the massacre?’ So the Abbess had very good information sources indeed. ‘Why would a notorious bounty hunter be after him?’
‘I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t tell you about my business with him. It’s confidential.’
‘But then why —’
I interrupted, already knowing the question. ‘Hector Kershaw is headed for Spruce Tree Mesa to hunt for Coyote Jack. He’s hired Ernesto, a scout from Fort Marcy, to take him there.’ I shrugged. ‘I’m just trying to catch up with them … that’s all, ma’am.’
The Abbess raised a disbelieving eyebrow. ‘That doesn’t make any sense whatsoever. If Coyote Jack has gone south then why would this Kershaw want to go to Spruce Tree Mesa?’
‘Hector,’ I rolled my eyes, ‘being male and the only survivor of a massacre, now wants to prove he’s not a coward.’
The Abbess understood that kind of masculine reasoning very well. ‘Oh, I see.’
‘But, I’m guessing that in fact Hector actually doesn’t want to —’
It was her turn to cut in. ‘Ah, so this banker’s boy, Kershaw, goes there hoping the fierce Coyote Jack is at least a thousand miles in the opposite direction.’
I shrugged. ‘So it would seem, ma’am.’
The Abbess studied me, making up her mind.
‘Ma’am, if you help me I will merely continue on my way to Spruce Tree Mesa and you’ll never see me again.’
‘But, Mr Eriksen,’ she said with steely precision, ‘despite your explanation for being in this area, I have absolutely no reason to help you … or trust you.’
‘But, ma’am,’ I said, mimicking her tone, ‘I imagine you have every reason to get rid of me as fast as possible. So many women and children here … but not one man. You don’t want me here, and I don’t want to be here.’
She took that as a threat, her hidalgo temper on the rise …
There were raised voices at the garden gate and Incendio, Duquesa and Azucar charged through like huge, four-legged guardian angels bent on saving me.
‘Mother Leocadia, I couldn’t stop them,’ panted the woman chasing behind them. It was the guerrilla leader from the canyon.
Incendio placed herself at my right hand, Duquesa at my left and Azucar to my rear. I whirled, ready to stop them from attacking … But they were gazing at the Abbess with three sets of the biggest puppy-dog eyes I’d ever seen on towering, heavily muscled warhorses.
I checked the Abbess; she looked entranced.
Incendio lowered her head even further and moved a tentative step forwards, as though she was a shy little foal. She ever so gently nudged the Abbess with her head for a pat.
I rolled my eyes — that was a bit too much.
The fierce Abbess melted like ice cream in the sun. She stroked the huge horse’s neck, then dug around in her apron for a carrot.
The guerrilla leader looked at me in stupefaction.
Incendio daintily took the carrot and shot me a look out of the corner of her eye that was as close to a wink as I’d ever seen on a four-footed being.
Duquesa and Azucar nickered, as though to say, ‘Feed us too.’
Sheesh. I was glad they were on my side.
The Abbess had seen the look Incendio and I’d just exchanged and stared in wonder. ‘I have never seen an Anglo have such a relationship with an animal … ever.’ She was bemused.
I patted Incendio’s muscular neck with amused pride. ‘These girls are right smart … and I get along right well with wild things, ma’am. I treat them with respect.’
‘Maybe …’ She stared at me. ‘But these wild things love you …’ The Abbess seemed to look deep inside me. ‘Because you’re one of them.’
I didn’t reply.
The Abbess thought for a moment. ‘All right, I’ll help you, John Eriksen … but only if you pass a test.’ Her eyes gleamed with glee.
That expression made my hackles rise. ‘Just what kind of test are we talking about here, ma’am?’
‘A simple ritual, done in the light of Love and before God. It will show me whether you are trustworthy or not. It will reveal your true nature.’ Her eyes now gleamed with curiosity. ‘But if you fail, Eriksen, you must give me your word you will leave here immediately and never return. Do you make this vow?’
The Abbess was daring me.
I could never pass up a dare.
I followed the Abbess into the church and down to the crypt beneath.
Surrounded by tombs, I wondered what the hell kind of test this was going to be when she led me down one level further and into the entry to a natural cave system. Here, the sound of water gushing deep in the earth was loud enough to muffle the clatter of our footsteps.
Oh no. Not a cave. Not this!
There was a torch waiting ready — she lit it and entered the cave.
I stood there, paralysed, staring at her disappearing back.
I forced myself to follow, cursing steadily under my breath as I inched my way forwards … and in.
Adrenaline flooded into my bloodstream, distorting my vision. The smooth rock walls seemed to push in on me, enclosing me in an ever-tightening embrace. It was hard to breathe. My legs were shaking so badly I could barely stagger …
The cave wound down and around in a descending spiral then along through a flat maze of smaller and tighter caves for a good ten minutes. I was on the edge of losing it completely … but I kept right behind the Abbess. I’d never find my way back out alone.
My heart pounded. Was this really a trap? Did she intend to lose me down here?
And I noticed she had a gun tucked into her skirts …
Just keep going, I told myself, just keep going. This test had better be bloody worth it! After this I was getting some answers from her — one way or another.
We came to an open flat space. The Abbess wedged her torch in a cleft in the wall and plunged into the darkness beyond.
That wasn’t a good sign.
I followed her, feeling my way around a corner and …
Wow. I blinked in the light.
It was a huge cavern.
Daylight streamed down through a great hole in the rock ceiling. Blue sky showed through, far above my head. Holy dooley, the cavern was decorated from roof to floor with huge ivory stalactites and stalagmites. With the light streaming in it looked like a great cathedral.
‘Follow me,’ commanded the Abbess briskly, all business. With that gun at her side, it was clear she was going to resolve what to do with me one way or another.
We wound our way through the huge stalagmites. One towering over my head was shaped like an angel, wings outstretched, with its feet resting on a tall fluted column.
The way ahead revealed a raised limestone pool.
I bent to dip my hand in the water, but the Abbess stopped me, shaking her head. ‘No, don’t touch it. Now is the
time for your test.’
I frowned at her. ‘Okay, what do you want me to do?’
The Abbess moved back and away, her hand resting over the concealed pistol.
‘Now, Eriksen, look into the pool and tell me what you see.’ She’d placed herself where she could watch my face.
Just what did she think was going to happen?
I’d seen some strange things in my time. And I didn’t have an explanation for all of them — but I didn’t look to anyone else’s idle fancies to explain them either. Sometimes life is just weird. End of story.
I fought back a rueful grin. But if this test really could reveal even a speck of the truth about who I was and what I was doing here — then the Abbess was in for a mighty nasty shock.
I stared down at the pool, but couldn’t look past the quicksilver surface. It was like looking into a mirror; it just reflected back my own image. If there was something down in that water I couldn’t see it.
‘It’s just me looking back, ma’am, nothing fancy,’ I said with pointed impatience. ‘I can’t see into the water.’
The Abbess didn’t reply, just intoned, ‘By the grace of God, reveal this soul’s true purpose here.’
When she saw I was watching her, she jerked her head impatiently back down at the pool.
I complied, muttering under my breath, ‘This had better hurry up and get interesting —’
Suddenly the quicksilver surface shimmered as though a breeze I couldn’t feel had skipped across its smooth face.
The watery mirror clouded over and something was forming …
I frowned and leant in for a closer look. Powder-puff clouds chased each other across an azure sky … Then I saw green foliage, the tops of trees … as though I was flying over them.
I muttered to myself, ‘Must be the reflection from the hole in the roof …’
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