“Well, I see your point,” the colonel said.
Maggie blurted out, “If you take any stallion, you should take Ulysses. He’s the most beautiful.”
Toby was overcome by an urge to put his fork into her ear, when his mother said, “Ulysses is Toby’s. He raised him from a colt.” She was like that, keen on keeping up appearances and all the refinements, but there was a sense to her, a hard sense that could never be shaken.
Wesley said: “Mother, let’s not be hasty, if Toby is fine with it, I don’t see the harm.”
“Ulysses is a one-man horse. He’s too temperamental when others ride him. No good for pulling cannon, anyway,” the colonel said.
The following morning the family clambered aboard the wagon and headed out to the ranch. It was a long ride from town and took the better part of the day. Wesley sat on the leader board with Father and along the route pointed out various landmarks that he had remembered despite his long time away.
Late that afternoon, the Walkers crested the rise before the ranch house and Wesley said, “I thought it burned two days ago. You had it framed out already.”
The colonel said, “No, it’s the neighbors. They must have caught wind of it somehow.”
Wesley viewed a commotion in front of the house and said: “It looks like the good folks building the barn are about to lynch that boy on horseback in front of the house.”
CHAPTER NINE:
TOBY RIDES
* * *
Seth had ridden hard and now screamed out from behind the mastodon for the farmers to clear his path. The farmers were around Seth astride his stallion, and Raif could hear angry voices from the throng swearing oaths at the boy, “Watch your mouth, boy”; “there’s no call for that talk”; “I’ll take you off that horse if you don’t curb that tongue . . .”
Seth kept at it. “You all got no fight in you, chickenshits, clear out.”
Tom Burke came out of the fold and said, “Now, that’s about enough out of your trap I can stand,” and reached up with his powerful hands and grabbed the reins of Seth’s horse.
Seth pulled back but Burke’s strength was too much for him.
Raif watched the tug-of-war and reached for the buck knife that lay sheathed on a bale of hay.
Jed said, “Ain’t seen no reason yet to be skinn’n some splitter.”
“I don’t plan on it. But I’m not rolling around in the dirt with some ham-handed pig-pusher. This’ll keep ’em from getting any hero notions. I’ll wear it prominently so if it comes to that afterward I can tell his kin his demise came a surprise to me too,” Raif said.
Raif wound his way toward Seth, traveling along the seams in the throng of folks that were watching the altercation. Seth was wheeling his horse back and forth, but the farmers continued to close in, and Burke wouldn’t let go of the reins. Raif pushed the knife down in his belt, concealing it as much as he could so that little of the hilt showed. He knew Burke’s strength, so he was going to rely on speed and slash Burke across the throat. Raif closed toward Burke with no quick motions. As he flowed toward Burke, he caught glimpses of him on the far side of Seth’s stallion and channeled his path so that his movement was shadowed by the steed’s neck. He wanted to be blind to Burke. It would look like it was all Tom’s fault. He would come up from behind Burke and grab the reins out of his hand hoping Burke would flail before he knew it was him. Once Burke put his fist to him, Raif was going to carve his apple from his neck. As he approached, his thoughts all seemed so logical to him.
Jed turned to Abner, “Grab the shotgun and the pistol we brung, Raif’s found himself an excuse to kill Tom Burke. I don’t think they got the nerve, but we may have to blast a few if they go for Raif.”
Abner said, “How do you know it’s trouble?”
“Brother’s got that crazy eye thing going. Git ready.”
The farmers sensed a predator and like a freshly lit candle that splits the darkness, a path opened for Raif. Burke sensed the odd movement of a cluster of so many and looked over to see the blank lifeless eyes fixed upon him, Raif’s hand caressing the hilt of the knife in his belt. Burke’s flee instinct triggered, and he melted back into the folds of the farmers on the opposite side, disappearing like an ebbing wave back into the sea. Raif sensed the loss of the prey as it fled back into the fold and the fire of the hunt melted in his chest. He shambled to Seth in a partial daze. With the moment gone his sense of his surroundings slowly surfaced and he understood once again the depth of his madness.
Seth saw him and exclaimed, “Raif, there you are. I rode past the ranch and looked for you. Gabriel said to find you, Raif—they’re all dead.”
Raif grabbed the horse’s reins and squeezed Seth’s knee hard and said, “Easy does it, brother, don’t show these fools nothing, Seth, steady up.”
Raif led the horse and rider over to the porch; a few farmers followed a short distance until Raif stared back but they still tried to cluster within earshot.
“Who’s dead?” Raif asked.
Seth started sobbing and the words came out in fits, “Mama, Uncle Eli, Tyler, Luke—Clara and May are gone. There’s fifty of ’em with a cannon.”
A collective gasp went up from the farmers. Raif turned to them and said, “You all need to wait for the colonel. He’ll be back shortly to give orders.”
The men dispersed, hurrying toward the mastodon, and gathered in a large group to discuss the situation.
Raif turned to Seth, “Jed and Abner and me are gonna gear up. Where’s Gabriel?”
“He said to meet here at Walker’s. He told me to tell you to bring all you got, Raif.”
“That’s right, Seth, we’re gonna ride. What about Caleb?”
“He’s with Joe, and they’re tracking ’em. We’re to meet at the Old Mission.”
“We’ll be back in four hours, Seth. We’ll kill every last one of them. We’ll get your kin. Stay steady.” Raif headed back to Jed and Abner.
Jed asked, “What’s all the fuss about?”
“The McCallums been butchered by a war party of fifty—a cannon took out the front door, killed the ma and uncles; war party took the nieces—Gabriel and Joe was hunting the black with Seth and Caleb. We ride.”
Jed spat and said, “Fifty and a cannon, shee-it! I will tell you what, though, since we’re in such a hurry, I’ll get that half buck to you when we get back.”
Colonel Walker and his family rode up in the wagon as the Hansons were mounting their horses. Raif rode over to the colonel and told him the news, and added, “You best see to Seth, Colonel, before he opens fire on them farmers. We’ll be back ’fore sundown.”
“Who’s the advance guard?” the colonel asked.
Raif knew the colonel was taking command. “Caleb and Joe’re at the Old Mission, trying to see if they’re running the Flats or going for the Crossing.”
“How many days they have on us?”
“Joe thinks two, more or less. Ma’am, Seth’s taking it hard. I put him on the porch.”
Molly jumped down from the wagon and climbed the short steps to the porch.
“Colonel, maybe you can get more out of Seth. Be back in a few hours.”
“Seth can stay at the house until we get back.”
Raif reined up, and said, “Seth says he rides.”
“He’s a boy.”
“He’s fifteen, nearly sixteen, Colonel, but I’ll leave it to you and Gabriel.”
“That boy’s in no condition to ride,” the colonel said more to himself than Raif.
“It’s his kin been butchered, but like I said I’ll leave it to you and Gabriel.”
Raif reined his horse, and the Hansons galloped off to fetch fresh mounts and their killing kits.
As they rode Jed said, “He’s balk’n ’cause he don’t want Toby to ride.”
“No, he don’t, but if Seth rides, Toby’s rides. The colonel ain’t one to give up command,” Raif responded.
Molly was on the porch with her arm across Seth�
��s shoulders. Wesley and Toby gathered around. Molly had listened to Raif and her husband talk, and she watched Walker closely as he climbed the porch steps. The colonel placed his hand on the back of the boy’s neck and bent down and said, “Seth, son, I’m sorry, but I need to know if Gabriel said for you to tell me anything more.”
Seth responded, “No, sir, he said I was to tell Raif to bring all he had and to tell you fifty with a cannon killed our kin and that my sisters is nowhere to be found.”
The colonel stood and looked off to the south scanning the horizon and said, “Fifty and a cannon.” He said it without fully comprehending it. Even in the early years he couldn’t recall a raiding party of more than fifteen. In the last five years, it had been nothing but the one or two that crept down at night from the mountain to steal horses from the flats. Fifty with a cannon, fifty with a cannon, he rolled the fact in his head but couldn’t fathom it.
“Seth, I don’t want you to worry, we’ll find your sisters,” the colonel said.
“That’s right, Seth, we’ll bring them back,” Wesley added.
The colonel looked at his elder son. It was the first time he realized his son was a soldier, and an officer.
Seth looked back at them from one to the other and said, “I ride, Colonel.”
“Seth, son, I’ll talk to Gabriel; we’ll work it out.” The colonel tried not to sound harsh.
He turned to Toby and said, “Saddle Bull and pick a horse for the lieutenant.”
Toby said, “Yes, sir,” and ran to the horse shed out back that was being used as the temporary barn.
The colonel turned to Wesley and said, “There’re Colts and Winchesters in my study. The key for the gun case is under the quill holder by the letter stand. My irons are on the right side; you can take your pick of the rest, but make it a .45 pistol and a .30 rifle. We need to keep the cartridges as simple as possible. If we need to resupply those two will be the easiest to find down there. Bring a good amount of ammo, but don’t weigh the horse down. Time is against us.”
Seth looked at the colonel. “Sir, they took near everything, I didn’t have no ammo from the house. Can I borrow cartridges?”
Wesley said, “Seth, fella, we need you to stay here with Toby to guard the women; not everyone should ride.”
The colonel liked the tack and said, “The lieutenant’s right, Seth, I need you here.”
“It ain’t my call, Colonel, Gabriel told me straight I ride,” Seth said.
The colonel looked at the boy and saw that his face was as smooth as a marble statue’s. He remembered Toby when the fever almost took him and how his face had splotched. When the fever broke, he recalled Toby’s face smoothing out again and regaining its luster and as he looked at Seth’s face, he thought of his son. He looked over at his wife, and Molly’s eyes were fixed upon him.
She hugged Seth closer to her bosom as she stared at Walker.
The colonel said, “I’ll be right back. I need to organize the folks and farmers.”
Wesley went to the case and selected the two newest pistols and grabbed a Winchester rifle. He pushed his way out the back-door shutter and strode to the old shed looking for a saddlebag to stow ammunition. He entered the shed, and his eyes adjusted to the darkness so that he could see that it was Toby and three saddled horses. Wesley looked at the black and knew it was Bull, because it looked like one. The second was a roan, well-proportioned and tall. He caught sight of Ulysses and was floored by the horse’s amber coloring and the power that radiated out of the animal. He moved toward Ulysses.
Toby had his back to the door and didn’t hear Wesley’s approach.
Wesley reached for Ulysses’s reins, and the horse shimmied and reared back to strike.
Toby wheeled and drew his Colt pistol in one smooth reflex action thinking a snake had crawled in the barn. He holstered it with the same dexterity when he saw it was only Wesley. He grabbed Ulysses’s reins and put a hand to the horse’s muzzle and said, “Easy, boy, easy.” The horse calmed. Toby turned to Wesley and said, “He don’t take to being handled by someone he don’t know. I reckon he only been rid by me and maybe Jed a couple times.”
“He’s magnificent. Do you mind if I try to work with him when I get back?”
“Let’s see if he takes to you on the ride. For now, you can take Vengeance, he takes to anyone.”
“Toby, why is Ulysses saddled?”
“If Seth rides, I have to,” Toby responded.
“Seth’s not riding, Toby. Father . . . I mean the colonel won’t allow it. He’ll talk to Gabriel.”
“We’ll see,” Toby said.
“Toby, Mother will never let it happen.”
“We’ll see. Vengeance pulls to the left if you try and start him at a gallop; you need to ease him into running.”
Toby handed Wesley the reins to the roan, and Wesley led him out to the front of the ranch house. He tied him to the hitching post. The women had taken Seth inside, and he could hear them giving the boy supper. He looked at the house and wondered what if it had been his family. It could as easily have been here as the McCallum’s, maybe easier because the Nottoway was farther south. McCallum’s was more remote from town but it was better prepared for a raid than this ranch house. The colonel’s original had been a fort, but the new one offered no special protection; it was nothing but a stately home, a miniature of the one the colonel had quit back east.
Wesley had visited Sommersville on a military summer assignment two years back and knew this was a poor attempt to capture the grandeur the family once knew. McCallum’s was still the original bunkhouse, a fortress upon the land. Wesley wondered how he would feel if he had gotten off that train and everything he knew had been destroyed, his sisters being dragged to the wastelands. Would he chase or would he board that train and head back? He went in to eat without answering the question.
Three hours later, Gabriel and the Hansons converged on the road and entered Walker’s property. The colonel strode out onto the porch. He went to speak but heard the door unlatch behind him and saw Seth running to mount his horse. Seth leaped up and reined the steed around until he sat tall in the saddle next to Abner. The colonel looked at Gabriel and before he could speak Toby came running up leading Bull and Ulysses. The colonel took Bull’s reins and mounted.
Toby stayed on the ground, but he was dressed to ride. He was adorned with three pistols, the butt loops tied by strings to his riding coat so he could empty them and drop them while riding hard without needing to reholster; a fourth pistol was holstererd with a cord to a belt loop and a Winchester rifle sat in the saddle holster—adorned in the killing trade as he’d been schooled by Gabriel.
Wesley ambled down the porch, looked about slyly, and mounted Vengeance.
The colonel looked down at Toby and said, “What are you waiting for? Mount up! Daylight’s burning.”
Wesley was struck and blurted, “Father, you can’t be serious?”
The colonel wheeled around on Bull. “I’ll not have my orders questioned, Lieutenant. If I want your counsel on this mission, I’ll ask for it.”
Wesley responded, “Understood . . . sir.”
Molly was out on the porch, and she was shaking. She raced to Walker with three quick steps and grabbed the reins of his mount and motioned him to come closer. He leaned down to her and she whispered, “When I was inside feeding that boy, I looked at Maggie and Peg and knew if it had been them taken that Gabriel, bastard that he is, would be sitting here like he is now and Seth with him. And I knew in my heart that I wouldn’t have tried to stop Seth from going if it was Maggie and Peg, so, John, I can’t stop you from taking Toby.”
The colonel responded, “Molly, if it were Maggie and Peg, Toby would ride.”
“I know, John, that’s why I won’t stop it. But you gave me a promise once, do you remember, John, do you remember?”
The colonel stared at her green eyes, and he remembered looking down from his horse at her an age ago.
�
�I remember.”
“You promised me you wouldn’t let go of the rope. You’re going to promise me something right now, John Michael, or Toby goes over my dead body.”
CHAPTER TEN:
JOHN MICHAEL WALKER
* * *
Walker’s grandfather still wore the uniform of a cavalry lieutenant when he went riding—the simple blue coat, tan breeches, and leather boots that folded over below the knee. Sommersville had one knoll of any real height and it held the stone markers of three generations of Walkers. John followed on his mare behind his grandfather’s lead to the top of the knoll and dismounted. Despite his age and rheumatism, his grandfather still dismounted in a single thrust down from the fifteen hands of his dapple gray, landing on two feet.
The two looked out over the growing fields of the plantation. The porch and large pillars had been built a generation ago, but the main house’s entire rear wall had been removed and John could see the scores of carpenters milling about and hear the knock-knocking of their hammers driving home pegs and flatheads to join the wood. The main house would double in size in a month’s time.
The field hands were crossing the rows harvesting the cotton, and John could see the overseers high in the saddle on their black stallions trotting back and forth along the red earth of the paths that ran among the fields.
“Johnny, do you see this one here, the simple stone marker?” his grandfather asked.
“Yes, sir,” John responded.
“It’s my father’s daddy. We called him Pappy. He was the first Walker to come to this land, but you know that already, don’t you?”
“I do, sir.”
“No one knows where he really came from. My grandmother used to spin yarns he was the last of five sons born to a duke. There were land for only four in the old country. The fifth in line had to find his own way in the world and he yearned to be free in a new world. Grandma’d tell he come to this land with nothing but a handful of guineas and a bushel of grit. I guess it does not matter where a man comes from but what they say about him when he leaves. John, I care for your father very much. He doesn’t seem to like to do much good other than attending balls and dancing; but he does have a head for commerce, I’ll give him that; credit to his mother—she was smart as a whip. I think I’m near’n eighty now, give or take, my time should’ve been finished long ago. Your daddy criticized me t’other day saying my days riding and shooting with you was interfering with your tutoring; that you had schooling to accomplish.”
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