“Then you are to be killed instantly.”
“And when is all this to take place?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“Before or after breakfast?”
“You joke about this?”
“Sure,” he said. “The deck is so stacked against me, what can I do but joke?”
“What shall I tell Geronimo?”
“Tell Geronimo it’s his game,” Clint said, “and I’ll play it.”
“Then you agree?”
“Yes,” he said, “yes, I agree.”
“You remain in here until we come to get you,” she said.
“Will I be fed so I can keep my strength up?” he asked.
“You will be fed.”
“Can you send Big Heart in to see me?”
“Why?”
“I want to make sure my horse is cared for if I lose,” he said. “I want to give it to him.”
“Yes,” she said. “I will send him in.”
“Thank you.”
She started to leave but stopped when he stood up.
“We haven’t talked about what happened last night,” he said.
“We cannot,” she said. “It means nothing.”
“Really? Nothing?”
“The way things are now,” she said, “it means nothing.”
“I see. So after this is all over, then we can talk about it?”
“After this is all over,” she agreed, “and you live.”
As she left, he said, “I thought that went without saying.”
FORTY-ONE
Big Heart came into the wickiup and stared at Clint.
“You know what’s going on?”
Big Heart nodded.
“Okay, if either of them kill me, Eclipse is yours. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll take good care of him?”
“Yes, I will.”
“You won’t let anybody eat him, no matter how hungry they get?”
“Never!”
“Good,” Clint said.
Big Heart didn’t move.
“Is there something else I should know?” Clint asked.
Big Heart took out his knife and held it out to Clint.
“Are you offering me that so I can use it tomorrow?” Clint asked.
“You can cut a hole in the back of this wickiup and escape,” Big Heart said.
“Big Heart,” Clint said, “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to escape. I have to go through with this.”
“Even if you kill Stands Tall Man,” Big Heart said,
“you will not be able to kill Many Words. He is a great warrior, and you will be fatigued.”
“I’ll tell you what would be very helpful, Big Heart,” Clint said. “Get me my guns.”
The brave returned his knife to its sheath. “Geronimo would have me killed.”
“I understand,” Clint said. “All right, then. Tomorrow, when I have to face Stands Tall Man, if you still want me to use your knife, I will.”
Big Heart didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded and backed out of the wickiup.
When Clint awoke the next morning to breakfast—some sort of gruel—he knew he had no tricks up his sleeve. In order to get Geronimo to the Canyon of the Funnels to talk with Crook, he had to kill two men—men who probably had more experience knife fighting than he did.
Of course, neither of them knew a thing about boxing, and he did. That was going to be his only chance.
Unless he could get to his guns.
Running Free was the one who came for him.
“It’s time.”
“And about time, too,” Clint said. “I’m tired of waiting.”
He followed Running Free outside the wickiup, squinting against the brightness of the sun. He wondered what the chances were that Tom Horn, Black Jack Pershing, and the buffalo soldiers would find them in time.
Apache men had formed a circle, and inside the circle was Stands Tall Man. He was stripped to the waist and wearing nothing but a loincloth. Off to one side stood Geronimo, Golden Princess, and Many Words.
Running Free walked Clint into the circle.
“Give him a knife!” Stands Tall Man shouted.
He looked around for Big Heart, but it was Running Free who handed him a knife.
“Thanks.”
The brave nodded and went to join the others in the circle.
Clint turned to say something to Stands Tall Man, but the Apache was already rushing him. Clint dropped down and stuck out both of his legs. Stands Tall Man tripped over them and went sprawling.
Clint got back to his feet. The brave was quick and was also up.
“I suppose you don’t want to talk about this,” Clint said.
“There is nothing to talk about,” Stands Tall Man said.
He charged again. Clint stood his ground, waited for an opening, switched the knife to his right hand, and threw a left jab. He hit Stands Tall Man right on the nose. The blow stopped him, staggered him back a step. He blinked as blood came from his nose. Clint switched the knife to his left hand and threw a right cross that landed square on the other man’s jaw. Stands Tall Man went down like a sack of wet sand.
Clint stepped on the fallen man’s hand and removed his knife, then stood straight. He threw the knife as far as he could in the air.
The braves forming the circle were staring at him, wide-eyed. They’d never seen a boxer before. Clint was glad for his experience as a fighter, and a referee.
“You’re next, Many Words,” he announced.
FORTY-TWO
“Kill him!” Many Words shouted.
Clint looked down at Stands Tall Man, who was still unconscious.
“There’s no need,” he replied. “The man is defeated.”
“You must kill him,” Geronimo said. His voice was faint, but all was so quiet everyone heard him.
“No.”
Geronimo walked closer to the circle, which broke apart to allow him to enter.
“Why not?”
“I have too much respect for life.”
“But you are the Gunsmith,” Geronimo said. “You have killed many men.”
“Only when they were trying to kill me.”
Geronimo pointed at the fallen man. “But he was trying to kill you.”
“Yes,” Clint said, “but he is helpless now.”
Geronimo pointed a shaky finger at Clint.
“Could it be you are not who you claim to be?” he asked.
“No,” Clint said, “it couldn’t. Now, do I fight Many Words next?”
“Yes!” Many Words shouted.
“No!” Geronimo said.
“No?” Clint asked.
“You must prove to me that you are who you say you are,” Geronimo said. “If you are lying, then you are a coward for not killing Stands Tall Man.”
“And if I am who I say I am?” Clint asked.
“Then you have respect for life, although you have taken many.”
“And if I am the Gunsmith, will you go and talk to General Crook?”
“I will.”
“All right,” Clint said. “How can I prove it?”
“With a gun.”
“You cannot give him a gun,” Many Words argued, entering the circle. “He will kill you, Great Chief, and then we will be leaderless.”
“I am sure you would rise to be chief before my body was cold, Many Words. Or Nachite.”
“Or Golden Princess,” Clint said.
There was some laughter from the circle, as well as from Many Words, but none from Geronimo.
“Give him his gun,” Golden Princess said, “with only one bullet.”
“He can still kill Geronimo with one bullet,” Many Words said.
“Geronimo is not afraid of me,” Clint said. “Even with six bullets, I could not escape from here alive.”
“But you could still kill our great chief,” Many Words said. “And perhaps that is your real mission.”
/> “If that was the case,” Clint said, “I could have done it already with this knife.”
He stepped toward Geronimo quickly, reversed the knife, and held it out to him. Several men from the circle, as well as Many Words, started forward, but Geronimo stopped them with a wave of his hand.
He accepted the knife from Clint, then said, “Give him his gun, fully loaded.”
“Thank you,” he said to Geronimo.
“Rifle or pistol?” Golden Princess asked.
Geronimo looked at Clint for a reply.
“If you want me to prove I am who I say I am,” Clint said, “I will need my pistol and holster.”
“Give him his pistol and holster,” Geronimo called out.
FORTY-THREE
Clint was aware that all eyes were on him as he accepted his gunbelt from Big Heart and strapped it on. He knew one false move and he’d be the recipient of a barrage of lead or arrows.
“All right,” he said to Geronimo. “What do you want me to do?”
Geronimo turned and said something to Many Words, who smiled and nodded. He left the circle.
“Many Words will set up a target,” Geronimo said. “You must not miss.”
“I don’t miss, Geronimo,” Clint said.
“We will see.”
Clint couldn’t see what Many Words was doing, because he was still inside a circle of Apaches. However, a few moments later he heard Many Words’s voice call something out, and the circle dispersed and became two lines of spectators on either side of Clint.
Ahead of him Clint could see the target Many Words had set up. A double-edged tomahawk had been stuck in a tree, and on either side a piece of fruit had been hung. Clint knew what he was looking at, and was surprised that the Apaches had come up with this. Then again, Geronimo was of an age where he’d remember something like this.
Clint knew that mountain men used to shoot targets like this, but they did so with black-powder rifles that shot a ball of lead. They had to hit the blade of the tomahawk just right so that the ball was cut in half and would strike both targets.
However, doing something like this with a modern-day bullet was different. If you didn’t hit the blade just right, the bullet would probably simply shatter and disintegrate. The pieces might strike one piece of fruit, but probably not both. Also, the mountain men used metal axes, not stone-bladed tomahawks.
Geronimo was either setting him up to fail, or really felt that, for the Gunsmith, this would not be a problem.
Idly, Clint thought that it would probably be easier for someone—not him—to do this with a bow and arrow rather than a pistol. An arrow would split in two very easily, and pierce both pieces of fruit.
“Do you understand?” Geronimo asked.
“I understand perfectly.”
“You can do this?”
“I can do it.”
“Uh,” Geronimo said, and waved for Clint to go ahead.
Off to one side Clint saw Many Words standing with a smirk on his face. Two braves had helped Stands Tall Man to his feet, but Clint didn’t know where they had taken him. He imagined that if the man was awake, he was also smirking.
Everyone waited, and Clint kept them waiting. He’d been lucky to dispatch Stands Tall Man so quickly—something he’d been hoping to do to give him a better chance against Many Words. So he wasn’t out of breath or fatigued at all, which was good. And he could see his target fine, since the sun was coming from his left.
Aiming and firing would do no good. Clint usually depended on his reflexes, and his natural ability with a gun. Speed was not important here, but it might go toward impressing Geronimo and convincing the Apache chief he was who he said he was.
Okay, he thought, time.
Golden Princess watched with bated breath. She wanted Clint to succeed. She did not need him to succeed for her to believe he was the Gunsmith, but he needed to convince Geronimo or die.
Many Words crossed his arms on his chest and kept his eyes on Clint Adams. Geronimo was a wise old fox, after all. There was no way Clint Adams could succeed here.
Big Heart kept his eyes on Clint Adams. Even though the magnificent horse, Eclipse, would be his if Clint failed, he could not help but root for him to succeed—if for no other reason than that it would wipe that smirk off Many Words’s face.
Running Free had mixed feelings. His brother’s death had not yet been avenged. It was something he intended to do next time he came across Tom Horn, but while he felt Clint Adams was a good man and had no desire to kill him, his death would be partial payment for Little Bear.
For the sake of his brother’s spirit, he hoped Clint would miss.
Geronimo, growing impatient, started to ask, “When will you—”
In the blink of an eye Clint drew and fired. No one saw the actual draw, but they all heard the shot. It actually made Golden Princess start, and she looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed.
They all looked toward the tomahawk in the tree, and the fruit on either side. Both pieces of fruit were intact. Many Words noted, with great satisfaction, that not only had Clint Adams missed, he had missed completely.
“A miss!” he shouted.
Geronimo looked at Clint, who was busy ejecting the spent shell and feeding in another live one. He was not going to go down without taking as many Apaches with him as he could.
He holstered his gun, looked at Geronimo, and said, “Check again.”
The old chief turned and walked to the targets on the tree. He leaned in and squinted at the two pieces of fruit. They were the fruit of the nopal cactus called tuna in Spanish and prickly pear in English.
Each piece of fruit had a neat hole in the center of it. Geronimo stared at them. The shot had to have been absolutely perfect to split the bullet in two pieces that would pierce the fruit but not explode it into pieces.
Geronimo turned and waved. Many Words and Golden Princess were the first to join him. Clint came up behind them, with others following.
“That is not possible,” Many Words said.
“And yet you see it,” Geronimo said. He turned to look at Clint.
“I had to do something to impress you,” he explained.
“And you did,” the chief said. “Set your meeting with your General Crook. I will be there.”
Clint nodded. He turned and saw Big Heart walking toward them, leading a saddled Eclipse. The brave was smiling. Golden Princess approached him as he accepted the reins.
“Running Free will ride back with you to the pass where he picked you up.”
“Where I picked him up, you mean.”
She almost smiled.
“Will I see you again?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” she said, and then added, “in a dream—or a vision.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
History shows that a meeting between Geronimo and General Crook did take place in the Canyon of the Funnels, but every promise Crook made to the Apaches was broken by the U.S. government, who wanted Geronimo’s surrender to be unconditional. Instead, the great chief took his Apaches back into the mountains. Crook was replaced by Brigadier General Nelson A. Miles. It took six more months before Miles accepted Geronimo’s surrender in Skeleton Canyon, New Mexico.
Watch for
EAST OF THE RIVER
328th novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series
from Jove
Coming in April!
The Golden Princess Page 11