by Greg Dragon
The casualties in the town had been relatively light. Five men were dead, three had serious wounds that might result in death or amputation, one lost an eye, and a dozen others had minor wounds which they carried now with great pride.
Austin was in the mayor’s house at his invite. Tel had apologized profusely to the ranger for his interference and offered a drink of conciliation. Austin wasn’t interested in the drink, but he did want an opportunity to see how Antonia was faring.
The wound on her cheek was superficial. Any scar would be light and not detract from her beauty and likely only accent it. The mayor’s giant goon was back at his side. Austin nodded his head to the man in respect, he had fought well and killed at least three of the enemy himself. The man nodded back and then turned away with a look of...what, guilt? Austin wondered if the man felt conflicted somehow in supporting Austin over his master. It was of no matter; he would get over it with time and be a legend in this town. In a year from now the stories would tell of how he slew fifty.
“Captain Reynolds,” said Tel, “I understand your position, and will certainly defer to your judgment as a representative of the governor, but are you sure we want to throw away a chance at parley so quickly? We have never put the Red Horde in such a position before. We might secure a treaty with them that could bring peace here for lasting generations.”
Austin chuckled and shook his head. “They would say what you wanted to hear to get away and then return in massive numbers to catch you by surprise and burn you to the ground.”
“But they could still do that!” insisted the mayor.
“They could,” admitted the ranger, “but without their leader and more hesitant, maybe even fearful. Also, a treaty would steal your town’s courage at exactly the time it has discovered it. The hope of peace is a temptation you cannot afford. You will likely have to fight again, but you now know how.”
The mayor said nothing for a moment and then motioned to Antonia who began preparing drinks at a sideboard. “I suppose you are right,” he said. “Let us toast our great victory Captain Reynolds.” Tel took a small glass of deep red liquid from Antonia and handed the other to Austin.
The ranger took the glass and turned to Antonia, but she turned away quickly before he could catch her eye. The mayor raised his glass. “To you, Captain Reynolds, the Texas Rangers, and the New Texas Republic.”
“To those who have fallen in defense of their homes and family,” answered the ranger solemnly.
“Yes,” said the mayor and clinked his glass to Austin’s. He drank slowly and Austin followed suit.
Austin only took a few sips before he knew something was wrong. His head began to spin and sound came from far away.
He dropped the glass and began to draw his pistol but the big goon grabbed him, pinning his arms to his sides with great force. Austin was held up and faced the mayor whose serene face was now filled with fury and malice.
“This is my town you, piss ant,” panted the mayor. “We will write the governor and tell him how you died gallantly in battle. Good-bye, Captain Reynolds.” Tel picked up a short heavy club from behind a chair and struck Austin on the forehead.
The ranger descended into darkness, his last thought was to wonder what would happen to Ginger.
***
Someone was shaking Austin. He instinctively reached out to grab the person, but his hands were bound close to his body. He opened his eyes slowly and with difficulty, it felt like weights were on his head. The first thing he saw was Antonia leaning over him and he instantly reacted by trying to reach out and choke her, but he couldn’t move.
“Save your strength, ranger,” said Antonia. “You’re going to need it.”
Austin bared his teeth at the woman and he noticed her hair was pulled back in a tight braid and she was wearing tough-looking britches and warm dark clothes. There was a large strangely shaped pack nearby. “I think I finally understand what an obayol is,” growled Austin.
“As usual you know little and understand even less,” answered Antonia. “There is no time, so you must listen carefully.”
The ranger started to speak, but she put her hand over his mouth and looked around furtively. Austin noticed they were in the mayor’s cellar where they had placed the Red Horde prisoners. The prisoners were nowhere in sight.
She turned back to him nervous. “The mayor has set the prisoners free after they concluded a treaty. You are to go with the Red Horde, likely to be burned alive at their camp in celebration. Tel is dealing with some issues right now regarding a distraction I’ve created, but he will miss me soon enough.”
“What are you talking about woman?” Austin’s head felt fuzzy.
“We don’t have time to discuss things. If I cut you loose, will you refrain from killing me...at least until I can get you out of here?”
The ranger nodded, his lips tight. “I will control myself.”
Antonia cut his bonds with a knife and helped him to his feet. She put the oblong pack on her back and handed him his pistol belt. “Tel will be very angry over this, your pistol was going to be the centerpiece in his display case.”
“Where’s my horse and rifle?” asked Austin.
Antonia began leading him carefully up the ancient stone stairwell. “Edgar snuck the horse and your gear out of town past the trenches. He’s awaiting us there.”
Austin wanted to ask more questions, but he could hear loud voices and yelling. Now that freedom was a possibility, he did not relish falling into the hands of the Red Horde.
A clear and unmistakable voice pierced the night, “...the prophet Samuel said, ‘Although you were once small in your own eyes, did you not become the head of the tribes of Israel? The Lord anointed you king over Israel and he sent you on a mission saying, go and completely destroy those wicked people the Amalekites; make war on them until you have wiped them out. Why did you not obey the Lord? Why did you pounce on the plunder and do evil in the eyes of the Lord?”
Austin looked out the cellar opening and saw a crowd in the street, Reverend Timmons facing down the mayor and the leader of the Red Horde. Tel looked angry, but Stormbringer was laughing and clearly drunk.
“What in the hell is this?” asked Austin.
“Our diversion,” whispered Antonia. “Now, let’s move, quiet and fast.”
“Old fool’s going to get himself killed,” said Austin already moving off into the night.
Antonia grabbed his hand. I suppose that would please him very much...now shut the hell up!” Austin did and she led him surefooted south into the darkness.
They walked swiftly, jogging sometimes when the moon came out from behind a cloud allowing them to see more clearly. After nearly a half hour, the spiked earthen wall materialized in their path. They climbed carefully over the hill and down the other side through the trench and back onto flat ground again. Austin knew it was silly, but he felt relief to be out of the town. Danger still stalked them, he could fell it.
Antonia stopped and looked around. She cocked her head and listened and after a few moments made an owl call. Almost immediately a similar call answered far to their left. She took off at a run in that direction pulling Austin behind her. The ranger drew the pistol out of its holster and held it ready.
Ginger must have smelled him because she nickered affectionately far before Austin could see the horse. She was just an animal, but hearing his horse lifted a weight from his heart and he smiled in spite of himself. Ginger’s tan head appeared out of the darkness and she stuck her nose right in Austin’s face. He petted head and saw Edgar standing nearby. Austin was suddenly furious.
“What the hell happened?” Austin asked Edgar. “After all of this, how can you people let these jackals free?”
Edgar started to answer, but Antonia jumped in. “The people are accustomed to obedience and Tel is their leader until we have another. Edgar wanted to resist, but I convinced him otherwise.”
“Why?” asked Austin.
She strapped her pack to
the back of Ginger’s saddle. “Because Tel’s plan was already in place and if he had sensed Edgar’s resistance he would have eliminated him making Edgar useless to us.”
“I’m so very glad I didn’t let you down,” said Edgar with dripping sarcasm.
Austin with a start thought of his rifle and scrambled to check the scabbard under the stirrup. The rifle was there secured. “Thank God, “said Austin with genuine relief.
“I went up to the roof and hid it from them,” said Edgar.
“I owe you my thanks for that,” replied Austin with feeling. “And for your help here.”
Antonia swung up behind the saddle gracefully and looked down at Austin expectantly.
“What in the name of Texas do you think you’re doing?” asked Austin. “I’m guessing your plan is for me to run and let the Red Horde chase after me, ridding your town again of this plague.”
“It is,” answered Antonia, “but Tel will know of my treason and will kill me. I’m dead unless I come with you. No one knows of Edgar’s part yet, he’s safe, but they will come after us in the morning once they sober up and learn of our escape. We have to go now.”
The ranger hesitated for a second. “Oh hell!” he said and climbed up into the saddle in front of the woman. Edgar was handing something to Austin and only then did he realize the smith had been wearing the ranger’s hat.
“You might need this,” said Edgar.
Austin took the hat and clasped hands warmly with the smith. “I will be back,” said Austin and Edgar nodded stepping back.
The ranger turned Ginger south and began riding towards the dark dead silhouettes of Amarillo.
***
Austin initially headed towards the ancient city only to keep his bearings, but Antonia insisted they actually go into the city. She said in the open plains the raiders would have the advantage whereas in the confined ruins, their superior numbers and speed would be negated. “Besides, they’re superstitious and will be scared of ghosts.”
“Aren’t you?” asked Austin seriously.
She laughed. “No such thing, which is ironic because my disbelief in spirits and ghosts is why they think I’m a witch. I know the ruins of this old city well.”
Austin wanted to resist her plan but couldn’t think of a good reason to do so and remained silent, shuddering at the thought of riding into that old tomb.
Antonio directed them through long dead and deserted streets. Austin soon lost his sense of direction and felt uncertain. Antonia and Ginger both by contrast seemed relaxed and relieved. The ranger gritted his teeth and pulled his hat down tighter.
They proceeded slowly, the long dead streets were paved in dust and weeds, but numerous holes and mounds made Austin cautious of breaking one of Ginger’s legs, so they dismounted and led her further on foot.
The heart of the old city filled Austin with awe. He had never been this deep into one of the ancient ruins. What manner of man built these immense structures and for what purpose when plenty of land to build upon lay ready and unused? Where they gods as the stories said or just crazy? Austin saw movement to his left and drew his pistol in one fluid movement, but realized it was simply a coyote chasing after prey.
Antonia pointed to a dark building to their right. “We’ll settle in there for the night,” but she kept walking down the street.
Austin started to ask why they were continuing on further, but realized with surprise her plan. The Red Horde would follow their tracks. They would put the horse someplace safe and then wait for the riders in ambush. Austin saw she was watching him expectantly and smiled when she saw he had gotten it.
“You are a very smart woman,” said the ranger in genuine admiration.
She laughed in pleasure. “I know! It’s one of many remarkable qualities I possess.” Her voice was teasing and not arrogant.
Austin was serious as a thought crossed his mind. “I would have killed you for what you did to me.”
“I know that,” she answered softly, “but I saved your life. Not just by the escape, but by drugging you. Tel’s methods are blunter, more final. I wanted you alive.”
Austin stopped the horse. “And why exactly is that? What is this game we’ve been playing?”
The woman’s jaw clinched and she hesitated before pulling the horse forward again. “You asked if I was a slave once. That question infuriated me and I couldn’t figure out why. I realized it made me so angry because it was true. I was sold by my father to Tel and have been cared for and mostly treated well, but a slave nevertheless.” Tears tracks appeared on her face outlined by moonlight. “I wasn’t born in bondage and I don’t intent to die that way.”
She turned to Austin and smiled with tears still running down her face. “I used you, ranger. To get free. I didn’t care a lick for the town or those pitiful people. Aren’t I something?”
Austin yearned to hold her, to comfort her, but didn’t know how. It had been so long since he was close to anyone. He patted Ginger instead and said, “No more than anyone else, your motives bother you, but nothing you’ve done has harmed anyone.”
She turned forward again. “That remains to be seen,” she replied simply. They walked into an enclosed space with hard stone surfaces all around and covered with an intact roof. There was a depression in the grassy ground filled with clear water which ran down in a multitude of tiny rivets from up above.
“Your horse will be safe and content here,” said Antonia, “we’ll pull that piece of metal across the entrance. It will keep her here until morning, but not trap her permanently should we never return for her.”
Austin nodded in appreciation. He marveled at her calm and willingness to face potential disaster without fear. The ranger pulled the saddle and bridle off of the horse. He collected his bedroll, saddlebags, rifle and ammo, and filled his canteen. Antonia took her pack. Austin patted and nuzzled Ginger and then pinned the content horse in the makeshift stable.
They walked quietly back the way they had come. At one point Antonia reached out and took Austin’s hand. His initial reaction was to jerk away, but he held fast, his heart racing much faster than it had in the previous battle. He still distrusted this woman, but he also wanted to trust her, was drawn to her in a strange way. Maybe she was a witch after all.
She led him confidently up crumbling and alien stairs. After several twists and turns in the dark confined spaces, she led them into a larger room. It was open to the street below and pale moonlight spilled onto the hard dusty floor. Austin walked over and looked down on the street. The fields of fire would be superb. They might actually stand a real chance, he thought.
Austin pulled out his rifle and practiced sighting it along the path the Red Horde would come from. Antonia was doing something strange around her pack in the dim light. She had something in her hands which looked familiar, but Austin couldn’t seem to place the image. After a moment, it snapped into place. She was stringing a sturdy compact horn bow. Antonia brought the beautiful weapon over beside Austin and laid out a dozen straight arrows with metal arrowheads.
“You know how to use that?” Austin asked with real curiosity.
She pulled the string back testing the draw. “When I was a girl in the east, we hunted with bows all the time. A few years ago, one of our herders went after a stray sheep and went way too far north. He finally made his way back with the sheep...and this bow and quiver filled with arrows. He had found the dead body of the plains folk, not Red Horde, but one of the others.”
She notched and arrow and pulled it back gazing down on the street. “No one in the town had any knowledge or interest in the bow and I was able to obtain it and practice when I could. They had no idea how priceless this weapon was. How many years it took to cure the wood and bone over fire, how much care and effort went into making these arrows. They had no idea, but I did.” She caressed the wood and with the bow in her hand Austin thought she looked like a fierce warrior, not entirely of this world.
He reached out and felt the wood
and her hand where his touch lingered. She looked back at him openly without pulling away. On a sudden impulse, he handed her his rifle. “Hold this for a second.”
The look of horror on her face was immediate. “I could never...a true gun...like from the olden days!”
Austin pushed it into her hands. “It was made in Cooper in the days of my grandfather, it is not haunted...unlike this tomb of a city.”
She took the rifle reverently after setting the bow and arrow aside. Antonia touched the metal carefully and even placed her face against the cold surface. Austin watched for a moment before laying out his bedroll beside her. Now that they were not moving, the night’s chill was noticeable. He looked at her pack for something similar, but didn’t see any blankets or rolls.
Antonia saw his eyes. “Wasn’t real high on the priority list when I was packing.” She set the rifle beside her bow and took off her boots before climbing into his bedroll and then opened the top flap for him. “Come on in, I won’t bite. Besides, we’ll both freeze otherwise and can’t afford a fire.”
The ranger hesitated. She said it like lying down in a bed with her was nothing, a matter of no consequence. She did not move, staring at him patiently as if she could read his thoughts.
“Take off your boots, ranger,” she said playfully.
Austin did as he was told in addition to taking off his gun belt and hat. He climbed carefully into the warmth of her willing arms and they comforted each other in the dead city of the ancients.
***
Both of them woke the next morning hungry and tired, but neither spoke of these discomforts. They were warm and filled with the nearness of each other. Aloneness had been such a constant companion and expectation to that the love of another was shocking to both of them. They were awkward and uncertain even as they caught themselves staring and smiling at the other. Austin felt especially ridiculous and was oddly unconcerned by this.