Rob Fosse fell at his feet and was stabbed through with a sword by one of the Aztlani cavalrymen. Rollo fought his way into the center of the mass of struggling men, and through what could only be called a crack in the edifice of defenders he was able to strike such a blow to the head of Jonathan Wall that the Vallensian leader fell to the ground unconscious. He looked up and saw Wall’s daughter standing calmly in the eye of the storm. She was smoothly feeding arrows into her bow like a machine, and Aztlani soldiers were falling from her arrows so fast that he was certain that she never missed a shot. It was almost like her arrows were trained to strike Aztlani hearts.
From his right he saw motion as one of his men pulled a pistol and carefully aimed at the young red-headed girl. Everything seemed to slow down, and he saw Timothy jump and grab her at the last second, so that the bullet that was meant for her hit him instead. He grinned at the meaningless, but heroic act. He started to laugh, but just as he did, he was suddenly knocked violently to the ground by a horse which clipped him as it rode by.
He looked back and now Ruth was clutching Timothy, and screaming his name as he slumped to the ground. He saw Piggy—whose horse had been the one that smashed him to the ground—snatch Ruth up with one hand and simply throw her like a rag doll behind him on the horse before riding hard to the north. Ruth held on, but she was looking back in terror and sadness knowing that she was helpless to save her father or the wounded Timothy. The Hood rode after Piggy, with the Aztlani traitor Troy hard at his heels. Ruth’s horse Peloncio, riderless, galloped after them under his own command.
Rollo heard himself shouting orders, but his thoughts were muddled and the dust was such that it was hard to know if there were even any Aztlani scouts alive to whom he might direct those orders. Almost instinctively he lifted up the unconscious Jonathan Wall, and as he did so he saw a few of his men twirling around on their frightened horses, and he commanded one of them to take the Vallensian leader and ride hard back towards the army. The Aztlani cavalryman seemed to be relieved to be ordered to flee, so he hastily pulled the stricken Vallensian over his lap and galloped away as fast as he could. Rollo located his own mount, then he half carried and half dragged the militia boy Timothy onto the horse. It seemed that the boy might have received a mortal blow, but he was still breathing. Best to take any living hostages. He lashed the boy to the horse, mounted quickly, and rode off at a gallop to catch up with the few Aztlani scouts who were still left alive.
As he rode, he was surprised by his own intense feeling of elation. His hearing returned, and his vision widened. Adrenaline pumped through him like he had never felt before—and he was the veteran of many battles. In the brief skirmish, he saw that he had lost twenty men. Twenty men! Still, he had captured Jonathan Wall, and, perhaps the boy Timothy might live and be able to give them information as well. He felt the warm blood—his own—as it began to drench his tunic, and he could feel it pooling at his beltline. He laughed and reveled in the euphoria. The dampness of his own blood made him feel alive! Two hostages in exchange for twenty men… When one of those men is Jonathan Wall, it is well worth it.
Riding hard towards the army of New Rome, his thoughts began to again grow confused; the adrenaline that was keeping him going waned rapidly and he felt himself growing light-headed. He knew that he was suffering from blood loss, but he also knew that he would still be alright. I’m a baron now! There is no way they can keep the barony from me!
He awoke on a cot being attended to by the Chancellor’s own surgeon. The dust of the day hung in the room like a curtain and the late afternoon sun illuminated the floating particles in the air. Squinting, he could just make out the face of the Knight Chancellor, and of Lieutenant General Weld. Several more officers of the Chancellor’s general staff were in attendance... he heard their hushed whispers. They all stared at him in wonder.
“Baron Rollo Billings, it is good to see that you are awake, and to hear that you should recover completely from your wounds. Can you hear me and understand me, Baron?”
“Baron?” Rollo grunted.
“Yes, Baron Rollo. You are now a Baron and you are officially awarded the Barony of Texas on behalf of the King of Aztlan. Congratulations.”
The Falcon stood over him, his hooked nose giving him the look of a deadly raptor about to feed on a fresh kill. “We have heard of your bravery and heroism in the capture of the heretic Jonathan Wall. He has already been sent back to New Rome to stand trial for treason and heresy.” The Falcon leaned low and dropped his voice to a faint whisper, so that only Rollo could hear. “He will, of course, be examined before the Commission on the Purity of the Faith, and I am certain… absolutely certain… that he will be declared unorthodox.” The Chancellor stood upright again and raised his voice. “We are all in your debt, Baron Rollo, and we hope you recuperate soon. God is smiling down on us, Baron. We will need you in the coming days.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” he managed to say. “Thank you.” Then his head again began to swim. A Baron! The Baron of Texas! Why is it so dark?
Chapter 29 - Ruth
Ruth felt nothing but despair. She had never killed men before… but, strangely, that part didn’t really bother her as much as it should have. Perhaps that would come later. She had also never been in the heat of battle before… but, she felt distant from any excitement or trauma arising from the fight. Riding from the scene of the battle had been the most heart-wrenching experience she had ever known in her young life. Both her beloved father, and her good friend Timothy, lay stricken on the field, and there was nothing… nothing… that she could do to help them. I don’t even know if they are alive.
She felt a choking sensation in her throat, and she suddenly struggled for air. She sobbed. Her heart pounded in her chest and she desired more than anything in the world to be able to go back in time… to kill them all… to save her father and Tim. She might have done it, if she hadn’t run out of arrows. I failed them!
Piggy and The Hood tried desperately to help her handle her grief. After a few hours of hiding out in the brush north of San Angelo, they had crept back to the scene of the battle to try to figure out what had happened. They found the body of Rob Fosse, who was their captain and their friend, and that of Marbus Claim, their silent and faithful companion, dead on the field. Marbus had one of Piggy’s knives stuck in his chest. Upon finding the knife, Piggy had cursed the soul of Rollo The Mountain, and swore vengeance upon him.
Jonathan and Timothy were not there. The area was searched and their bodies could not be found anywhere in the vicinity. Troy explained that this was good news. “They wouldn’t have wasted time on their bodies if they were dead, Ruth.” Perhaps. Maybe that was true of Timothy—that thought gave her hope for him—but they would certainly have taken her father’s body, dead or alive. Parading a dead Jonathan Wall through the streets of New Rome would have a sobering effect on anyone harboring thoughts of insurrection. She steeled herself. Timothy is alive… at least he was when the battle was over. Maybe her father was still alive too.
She knew that she should grieve over them and let it be done, and that keeping hope alive was probably not in her best interests. It would be painful to hold on to hope, and then have to grieve all over again if it turned out that both of the men were dead. She could not help herself, though. Timothy was alive, and she had to hope that her father was worth more to Aztlan alive than dead. Nobody wanted a martyr.
Piggy grasped her firmly by the shoulders. “No one can tell you how to feel, Ruth. Death is a reality in war. I can’t tell you to grieve, or to wait, or to forget. I need to tell you though, that both your father and Timothy had purpose. They both wanted to live in peace, and to be good and honest men. They both made choices that brought them to this place. Your father taught that God was sovereign, and that all things come to be according to the divine decree of God. I respect that, and I agree with it. Whatever you feel, you must bow to the knowledge that this is God’s will. Since we know that God is good and right, we mu
st acquiesce to His decision. However you feel, that is what you must do.”
They all stood in silence, and they began to notice the buzzing of flies called forth to the bounty of so many bodies. Ruth lifted her head and nodded at Piggy. “We should bury Marbus and Rob.”
“We will, Ruth. Why don’t you go find some shade and maybe pray for the safety of Timothy and your father?”
“I want to help bury them.”
“As you wish. Then let’s do that,” Piggy said, and for the second time in just a few days, they found themselves digging graves in the desert.
Several hours later they approached the vicinity of Harmony. A great battle had evidently been fought there—this they could see—and a cloud of dust still hung heavily in the air. The bodies that littered the ground were coated with fallen debris, and, just as in the earlier battle, the flies here had been summoned to the corpses that lay strewn around the area. As they rode silently, Piggy signaled loudly to the militia, and the party entered the battlefield unmolested. Miltiamen, both Vallensian and otherwise, busily dug out and reinforced an extensive trench system on the northwest side of the battlefield. Ruth saw a group on horseback and recognized Enos Flynn, Pachuco Reyes, and Tyrell of Terrell. Piggy signaled to them and the three rode over and joined them.
“Hello Piggy,” Pachuco said with a slight bow of his head. “As you can see, part one of the great battle is over. The armies from El Paso and Louisiana have been utterly destroyed, but Phillip believes a larger force is headed this way from New Rome. We’re digging in. There are too many of us to move fast, so we’re going to have to fight here.”
Piggy smiled, “So Phillip lives! This is excellent news!” The smile didn’t last long, and his features quickly regained their reflection of the seriousness of the moment. “Our greetings, brothers,” he said. “Yes, we believe that Phillip is correct. Aztlan is on the way. We had a skirmish with a scout team from that army not three hours ago,” he stopped and removed his hat. “I hate to be the one to report that Rob Fosse and Marbus Claim were killed. Young Timothy and Jonathan Wall were captured.”
“Jonathan Wall? Captured? I thought they already had Mr. Wall,” Enos said, then, noticing Ruth, he took off his cap as well. “My apologies about your father, Ruth.” Ruth nodded almost imperceptibly.
“We have a pretty long report for Phillip, Pachuco, and I’d really rather not tell the whole story a dozen times. Where can we find him?”
“The command tent is behind that low mesa,” Pachuco replied, pointing to the southeast. “Our enemy doesn’t know that Phillip and Prince Gareth are alive. We would like to keep it that way.”
“Gareth lives too? That is excellent news,” Piggy replied. Looking around, Ruth perceived the emotion and tightness that had instantaneously passed over the faces of the three militia men. “And David Wall?” Piggy asked.
Pachuco looked at Ruth and remained silent, and for a moment it seemed that all of the air was sucked out of the area, before Longbow interrupted with a reply. “Miss Wall… we’re so sorry… your brother David…”
“…was killed,” Ruth said, finishing the sentence.
“Yes, ma’am,” Longbow replied while lowering his eyes.
“Was it Rollo?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Did my brother suffer?”
“No ma’am. He died instantly.”
“Has he been buried?”
“Yes, ma’am. There was a full Vallensian funeral just days ago. Your sister saw to it that everything was handled.”
Ruth paused and looked out over the preparations that were being made for another, larger battle. “We won’t keep you if you need to prepare. I thank you for the news and for your prayers and assistance to my family. We need to go report to Phillip. You are welcome to accompany us if you wish.”
“We will,” said Pachuco, and after another heavy and quiet moment, the party rode silently out towards the command center of the militia.
She didn’t talk while Phillip and Piggy briefed one another on all of the recent happenings. Phillip was obviously saddened by the news of the deaths of Rob Fosse—his best friend and second in command—and the young militia fighter Marbus Claim. In like manner, Phillip seemed particularly distraught when he had to tell Ruth about the death of her brother. The heaviness of the moment was only interrupted when Piggy reported to Phillip that Jonathan Wall had been seized by Rollo and the Aztlani army.
“Oh no, Piggy,” was all Phillip could say.
“I know, sir,” Piggy replied.
“No… Piggy… I don’t think that you do know. Jonathan in the hands of New Rome is a disaster for us.” Phillip looked at Ruth, apologetically. “Perhaps you ought not to be here, Ruth.”
“I will stay,” she replied forcefully, “speak freely.”
Piggy raised his hands in order to indicate that he wanted Phillip to listen. “Phillip, I had a split second to decide to try to save Jonathan… which was my duty… or Ruth. Jonathan was down on the field, either dead or seriously injured, and I could not tell if he was dead or alive. So I chose to try to save Ruth. It was a split-second decision, and I did what I thought was right.”
Phillip walked a few paces away, then took a deep breath and turned back to Piggy. “No. Piggy. You did the right thing. If you had tried to save Jonathan, we might have lost both of them… and you as well. You did the right thing. I apologize for second guessing you. I wasn’t there. You were, and you did the right thing.”
“Thank you, Phillip.”
The group stood in silence for a long moment before Phillip finally spoke. “New Rome is coming. Probably close to 25,000 men are only miles away. We can’t run. We’ve always been able to flee, but we have almost 7,000 men now, and we’re not as spry as we once were. We’re digging in.”
“This isn’t good, Phillip,” Piggy said, looking at his leader with his head cocked to one side.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Do you have any tricks in your bag?”
“I have some cheap parlor tricks, but nothing that will sufficiently help us here. They think that Gareth and I are dead. We’ve got that. That might surprise them for a moment, but it won’t last. We’re going to have to fight them the old-fashioned way.”
“We don’t like that way,” Piggy said. “That is not Piggy’s Way!”
“Well if you come up with something, you let me know, Piggy,” Phillip replied.
“Each of us will just have to kill four of them,” Ruth interrupted seriously.
Phillip eyed Ruth, and then nodded his head. “Yes, young lady, you are right. Each of us will have to kill four of them.”
“I don’t see where that is a problem,” she said, looking out towards the field of battle.
Phillip stood looking at her for a moment. “Well, Ruth, then that is what we will try to do.”
She was heartened a bit at the thought of the coming battle. She didn’t feel any fear at all. Piggy had taken charge of their unit, and she trusted him completely. He found them a spot in the trenches towards the center of the defensive line. Weapons were brought in, and Piggy saw to it that she had several quivers of arrows.
“Listen, this isn’t going to be much of an arrow kind of battle, Ruth. The Aztlanis will have guns, and a lot of them. You need to stay down, and don’t even think about getting involved unless there is a clear shot that you can take.”
“I will do as you say, Piggy.”
“This is going to get frightening. You will be more scared than you have ever been. Aztlan will have guns, cannon, and all kinds of things,” he paused while he looked out over the battlefield. You have to listen to me… all of you.” Troy and the Hood both nodded in agreement. “If I give a command, you have to do what I say instantly. You can’t hesitate. We’re all counting on one another. If we have to retreat, the horses are tied to a post over east of the command tents. Make your way there, and we’ll ride around to the east of San Angelo and then head north. If we get separated, leave
plenty of sign and I’ll find you.” They all nodded in agreement as they checked their weapons.
“Ruth,” Piggy continued, “I cannot tell you how important it is that you keep your senses. If we are bombarded with shells, it can become very disconcerting and confusing. If you feel you are starting to lose it, just look at me… ok?”
“Ok, Piggy,” was all she could think of to say.
They didn’t have long to wait. Soon they heard the rumble of the approaching enemy. Then it grew quiet. After about 30 minutes of near silence, shells began to fall in every direction. Ruth was at first stunned by the ferocity of the bombardment, but then her senses became dull and a stark fear gripped her. Some shells landed so close that the gravel and dirt shooting through the air stung her face and hands. She pressed herself into the western wall of the trench and pulled her legs close to her chest. The sound was deafening, and for a while she actually thought that she had lost her hearing. The sounds faded away, but the shells continued to drop and she could feel the force of the concussions as they battered her. She began to feel a sense of panic and she looked up and saw Piggy watching from just above the ridge of the trench. He looked down and saw her, and then slipped down beside her. Saying nothing, he reached into his pocket and pulled out some cotton, which he tore into two pieces and balled up into his hand. He indicated to her that she should put them in her ears, and as he did so a shell exploded inside the trench somewhere to the north of their position. Piggy was tossed over her, and debris rained down heavily for several moments. When he got off of her, she quickly checked to see that he was not wounded, and she was grateful that he was not.
Then, just as quickly as the firing had begun, it stopped. Several minutes passed by in silence before Piggy poked his head up to see what was happening. He slid back into the trench, motioning The Hood and Troy to gather around.
The Last Pilgrims Page 32