by Greg Dragon
***
New Hope’s men were less enthused the next morning. The slingers had difficulty moving their arms and the pikemen massaged their aching backs. They fell into their assigned units slowly with lots of groans and curses.
Austin sent the slingers away to practice and took the pikemen. He taught them how to stretch out and then began putting them through drills, harder and faster than before. It was not long before men began to quit.
Austin ignored them until he had about ten such men, laggards who feigned injury or simply lay down. Once the first had given up, others followed fast and furious. He knew it wasn’t simply the heat and the fatigue. It was fear and futility which plagued their minds. The ranger stopped the training and gathered everyone around the ten men who had stopped without permission.
“Let it be known,” cried out the ranger, “in years to come when they speak of the names of those who fought here, let them also remember those who did not do their part...especially the families of these men for generations to come. Let their shame never be forgotten.”
Austin had them spellbound, he knew he was a remarkable presenter. The ten men looked at him with a mixture of shame, horror, and fury. He let the moment hang in the air, “...but let us pretend this never happened. A little joke here amongst comrades-in-arms, never to be spoken of again to anyone. Let us know that the man to our left and to our right will never let us down while we still live.” The atmosphere was pregnant with anticipation and even the wind stilled.
“Yes,” said the smith from Austin’s rear. “Jerry, Hector, you other girls, stop goofing around and get back over here with the rest of us before we take it personal.”
Edgar’s strong voice broke the men’s paralysis and they walked over and pulled their comrades to their feet and back into formation, thrusting pikes in their willing hands, eager to be rid of their shame.
Austin smiled inwardly. “Master Rodrigo, please continue drilling the pikemen while I check on those lazy slingers.” The smith nodded resigned to his role.
The ranger strode towards the crossroads, but he had no intention of interrupting the target practice which he could tell was proceeding with vigor now that the men had worked out their soreness. Instead he walked up the front steps of the mayor’s house, now unguarded by the huge goon who was one of the pikemen. Antonia must have again been watching through the window, she opened the door as he approached. She was more remarkably beautiful than he remembered and this annoyed him for an unknown reason.
“I see the training proceeds,” she smiled and bowed slightly. “You appear to have a way with the men.”
“Why are you here?” asked the ranger angry. “You should be in Devon’s Valley.”
Antonia’s fine lips tightened. “I have a responsibility here as does the mayor.”
Austin grunted. “I can’t fathom what that responsibility could be, you don’t support us or encourage us. If you’re not going to fight, you need to go so you don’t cause the men to lose heart.”
“Yet,” replied Antonia tersely, “you allow the reverend to stay and he also has no part in the fighting.”
The ranger was caught slightly off guard. “He would say he had another role to play in all of this.”
“As do we,” replied Antonia. “You see, we understand that this will not be one glorious battle, but the beginning of a painful and costly war. You will kick the hornet’s nest and leave. We are here to pick up the pieces and bind together that which you scatter.”
Austin stared hard at her. He wanted to argue, but she was right. He hated her at that moment for her honesty and insight.
“Was there anything else?” she asked.
“Actually you can play a part in this,” said the ranger suddenly.
Antonia was all courtesy again. “I am at your disposal Captain Reynolds.”
“My plan requires a bit of well...how to say it...bait. I’ll need the mayor to draw the Red Horde into the kill zone while we prepare the trap,” explained the ranger visualizing the scene in his mind.
Antonia shook her head. “No ranger. The mayor is far too valuable for such a dangerous mission. I said I was at your disposal.”
Austin glared at her his fists tightening at this infuriating woman. “So be it,” he finally grated, “these raiders will likely not be able to resist the temptation of utterly ruining such a lovely rose as you.”
The ranger said these words with bitterness, hoping to scare her, but as he turned away from her, he thought he saw the briefest of vulnerability in her eyes and possibly...sadness.
***
They kept watches constantly. In the past, the raiders had come the third day after the full moon before the harvest festival, but Austin did not want to be taken by surprise. He figured he could only count on one more day of preparation and knew he had to make it count.
Austin had all the men run through a complete rehearsal several times, faster and faster. They moved in groups and as individuals. Pikemen learned how to move forward to replace wounded and how to ignore hurt friends in order to focus on killing the enemy. He drilled them hard until noon and then called them together.
“We are ready,” said the ranger. “You will be afraid, but that is normal and right. Realize that once we spring our trap, these raiders will not stand a chance and will know fear themselves. All we must do is stand together...and know that I will stand with you.”
He knew they needed a little more. They needed magic, they needed to believe. Austin turned to the wooden slinger targets arranged around the well. He could only see the fronts of two of the targets, but it would do for his purpose. The ranger saw the targets and let his mind become clear and empty. He sensed the eyes upon him, but felt like they were a thousand miles away. In one smooth motion he drew his revolver and placed three incredibly tight shots in each of the two bull’s eyes and returned the smoking revolver to his holster. It had been like slow motion to him, but he knew what these men had seen was to them supernatural.
When he turned back to these simple folks they moved back away from him as one. They had been afraid of him when he arrived, but over the last week had lost their trepidation. Maybe the legend of these rangers wasn’t all it was cracked up to be they told themselves over beer. Maybe these guns were like anything else. Maybe they didn’t even work. Maybe this ranger is just another man like any other. These thoughts were now obliterated in all their minds. They had seen something only the old tales spoke of in whispers. They had heard the thunder and seen the lightning. Hell, they could even smell the death smoke as it still drifted on the gentle breeze. Who were these barbarian riders compared to this giant of a man in their midst?
Austin saw and understood and felt a little sad. He wasn’t like them, but it was comforting to pretend for a few days. They would not see him as mortal again. So be it, he told himself. It’s all part of the role. “We will kill these animals who dare to come against us. They will not stand a chance. We will be victorious...if you believe.”
It started with a nod followed by another and then a word of affirmation. The mood became contagious and spread. They wanted to believe, had to believe and Austin had helped them. Otherwise they would run for their lives in the night.
On a mischievous impulse Austin yelled out, “Drinks on me!”
The men roared out in approval jogging towards the bar. Mister Elder would not be happy thought Austin and chuckled to himself.
***
They could see the cloud of dust rising to the north hours before the riders arrived. Men with sweaty palms avoided eye contact with each other as they milled about aimlessly, waiting for the confrontation they were not ready for in their hearts.
Austin’s heart on the other hand soared. He would not say that he craved battle and bloodshed, but he appreciated the simplicity of life when it boiled down to kill or be killed. In such situations all of his life’s hopes, fears, disappointments, and loss shrunk to miniscule points of insignificance. The ranger cleaned his guns w
ith cheerful serenity to the concern of those around him.
He checked the horizon and figured the riders were perhaps a half hour away. Austin directed the men to drink water, rest, and void their bowels and bladders. In battle, especially when wounded, the body had other things to worry about and tended to judge bowel and bladder control relatively low on the list of priorities. He then calmly directed the men to their hiding places and reminded them not to move until he gave the signal.
Once the men were in their assigned places, he went to get Antonia and saw she was waiting for him. She looked more relaxed than any of the men and Austin understood she had the heart of a lion, neither seeking death nor fearing it. The ranger hesitated in his steps realizing this woman was playing a dangerous part. There was a good chance she could get hurt or even killed.
“Not too late to back out you know,” said Austin feinting nonchalance, “plenty of others to play this part.”
Antonia’s smile was stunning. “It is my part to play and none here can do it better.”
Austin grunted. “I have no doubt of that. If you can get these dogs to just roll over and let you scratch their bellies it will save us all a lot of trouble.”
She laughed. “I will do my best, but I suspect these dogs have run wild too long to accept any master without force.”
“Yes,” answered Austin, “now remember what I said and what to do if things go badly.”
“I do and I will,” she said. “I have no interest in either dying or spending the rest of my days as a sla...” Antonia stopped in midsentence and frowned at Austin. “...as a concubine of the Red Horde. How about you, ranger? Do you know your part?”
“I most certainly do,” answered Austin his hand caressing the worn handle of his revolver.
He held his hand out to her and after a moment’s hesitation she descended the steps of the mayor’s house and placed her hand in his. Austin looked up and saw the mayor standing in the open doorway, his face serious and hard. The ranger turned away and led Antonia to her place in front of the well before making one more visit to each of the men’s locations.
After confirming they were all ready, or at least as ready as fear would allow, he climbed up to one of the slingers high vantage points to watch the enemy’s approach. They were much closer now and he could distinguish individual riders and horses. He counted about thirty horsemen along with about the same number of re-mounts. These were serious riders he could tell. Likely born and raised in the saddle hunting and raiding from youth and used to danger, hunger, and victory. He looked back at his men shaking and uncertain. They would have to do, he decided.
The barbarians were nearly naked, painted in red and white as were their small sturdy horses. All carried numerous short javelins and multiple horrific scars were clearly visible even from such a distance. Austin felt tightness in his stomach and a slight weakening in his knees and he welcomed it. Fear was normal and part of the process. His father had told him the day he stopped being afraid was the day he needed to hang up his badge because death was certainly around the next corner. Austin clenched his fists and breathed in and out slowly making his heart rate slow and turning his trepidation into focused anger.
He recognized the leader immediately from barroom tales. Stormbringer was larger and more muscular than any of the other wiry riders. He rode on a large horse with a haughtiness that implied he was the lord of all he saw or soon would be. The raiders slowed at the outer ramparts and then stopped to examine the trenches and earthen walls.
Austin signaled to Antonia and she walked out in front of the well at the crossroads. There was a long straight open path along the north road straight from her to the fierce riders. Stormbringer’s head jerked up immediately and saw her. They stared at each other motionless for many tense seconds. The leader finally made a signal and gave orders to his men. Five of the riders stayed at the edge of the town while the remainder rode forward at a gallop.
“Damn,” hissed Austin. He needed them all to come into the trap. The riders bore down on Antonia like a wild wave. She stood there unmoved and beautiful, attracting their complete attention. There was only one way to do this, but it was now going to be touch and go.
The ranger waited until the last of the galloping riders passed a predetermined marker on the ground and then pulled up his rifle sighting on one of the five at the edge of the town. The signal to spring the trap was supposed to be a rifle shot, one he’d hope to use to kill the leader first, but that was not to be now. He aimed down his rifle and relaxed his breathing. It would be a hard shot, three hundred yards at least. Austin picked a stationary target and squeezed the trigger slowly and steadily.
The rifle jumped in his hands with a loud report and the target at the edge of the town fell from his horse. Austin chambered another round and looked down to see the four groups of pikemen emerge from hiding in formation and block the roads, pinning the riders in the kill zone. He also saw Antonia jump down onto a wooden platform in the well out of sight as previously instructed.
“Fire damn you!” screamed Austin at the stunned slingers. They looked at him and then down at the whirling riders who were beginning to throw javelins at the pikemen. The slingers fitted stones into their slings and after a few shots started firing with rhythm. The riders in the center began taking heavy casualties. Riders fell from their horses and were then trampled by panicked steeds. They tried to charge the pike formations, but the long pikes either jabbed out at them or the horses, driving them back with grievous injuries. Some of the horde attempted to ride around the formations, but all the side paths and exits had been blocked. They were trapped.
Austin turned back to the riders on the edge who were now galloping towards the unprotected rear of the northern pike formation. He aimed at the lead rider and shot him down. One of the pikemen in this threatened formation turned and saw the approaching riders and turned to face them, urging others in the formation to do the same.
“No, you fools!” screamed Austin. “Keep your pikes pointed towards the center,” but they either couldn’t hear him or chose not to listen. Some of them ran, others turned to face the new menace leaving their backs unprotected to the more formidable threat. The riders in the center sensed the change and focused their attacks on this vulnerable position. Austin fired his rifle as fast as he could into the crowded horsemen, not caring if he hit rider or mount. When the weapon was empty, he didn’t bother trying to reload, but dropped it and ran to the stairway in the back. Taking the steps five at a time, he ran around to the beleaguered pikemen and drawing his pistol began shooting the raiders at close range.
The sight of this apparition with deadly thunder unnerved the riders and their horses that shied away from the unusual noise. Even so the riders in the middle were about to break through the pikemen and would be free any moment. His pistol now empty, Austin holstered it and picked up a fallen pike. He ran directly towards Stormbringer.
The big man saw him coming and grinned, raising his arm to throw a javelin. Austin was faster, he lowered the pike point and drove it deep into the horse’s breast. The animal rose up on hind legs with a scream and then fell back pinning Stormbringer to the ground. Austin rushed forward, leaping over the struggling horse to pounce on the leader. He drew his pistol and whipped the man across the face several times until movement stopped.
The ranger looked up and saw that the pike formations had broken up in disarray, but not in retreat and fear. They were rushing about in order to capture or finish off dismounted riders. Their horses were killed, wounded, or no longer inclined to be ridden.
Austin sat on the slowly dying horse and reloaded his pistol out of habit. Stormbringer moaned and opened his eyes, but Austin ignored him for now. All of the raiders were now either dead or prisoners and the men seemed too stunned to even celebrate. The ranger as always was surprised at how fast it was all over.
Movement to his front caught the ranger’s eyes. He looked towards the well and saw Antonia’s beautiful head emer
ge, but with a wicked face behind it holding a knife to her throat, his other hand wrapped forcefully in her long hair. He smiled confidently at Austin.
“I have your witch,” yelled the painted man. “Let us parley.”
Austin stood and walked slowly towards him with his pistol hanging loosely in his hand. The rider tightened his grip on Antonia and a thin line of blood began running down her neck from the knife.
“Parley!” cried out Stormbringer with surprising force behind Austin. “I call for parley. You dirt men have earned it, now let’s parley.”
“Yes,” cried the mayor coming down the steps from his house, “we will parley. You have sanctuary until we reach an agreement. Now let her go!”
Austin looked at the mayor in shock. He turned back to the man holding Antonia. The raider had relaxed his grip on Antonia with the mayor’s words.
Austin raised his arm swiftly and shot him in the forehead. The surprised man fell back dragging the knife edge along the beautiful woman’s cheek as he dropped leaving a thin red line.
“No parley,” Austin said simply.
The mayor looked stunned and stammered incoherently.
Stormbringer’s eyes shone fiercely before he screamed at Austin in frustration.
The ranger strode over to him and stomped on the man’s face as hard as he could with his boot heel.
Antonia climbed calmly out of the well holding the sleeve of her dress to her cheek.
Turning on the mayor Austin pointed his still smoking pistol at the pale mayor. “No bloody parley you shithead!”
The mayor shrank back and Austin turned and walked away to finish the job.
***
They tied up the prisoners and put them in the cellar of the mayor’s house to be executed at dawn. The dead horses were butchered and cooked as part of a giant celebratory feast. The remaining horses were a magnificent prize for this small town. Dead Red Horde bodies were piled in a great heap and burned in the night while exuberant drunk survivors danced and sang.