wanted him to know it.

Howie dozed through the whole morning, ignoring the stifling heat rising off the plains. When he woke near noon he felt worse than ever. His body was covered with sour sweat and his head was full of dark dreams. Lew Renner was there, staring up blindly out. of death. Only sometimes it was Cory’s face on Lew’s ruined body. Once, he was on a bright beach with Kari Ann, and he knew right off it was Silver Island, because his sister was there— only it wasn’t his sister as he’d ever seen her. She was Kari’s age, a breathtaking young girl with swelling breasts and laughing eyes. Her face, though, was just the way he remembered. When he looked at her, Howie was ashamed of what he was thinking, but she winked at him mischievously and slipped Kari’s oversized shirt off her shoulders—and showed him the raw, ugly wounds on Lew Renner’s body…

In the kitchen, he poured cold water over his head, scrubbing his chest and arms until he could stand to smell himself. He was hungry, but there was nothing in the cabinets worth eating. He wandered through the main room and out to the porch. There was no one around except Harlie and Jake, and neither had anything to say. He could go upstairs; see if Kari was in her room…

He cast the thought quickly aside, and was angry at himself for even thinking about her. It was mostly her fault he felt as bad as he did. Getting him all worked up and everything, then just leaving him hanging. A man couldn’t take stuff like that, not without going plumb crazy. And if Kari didn’t know what a girl was supposed to do when she took her clothes off, there were plenty of others in Roundtree who did. He’d found two or three without any trouble and they damn sure knew what he wanted. And by sunup, when he’d dragged himself back to the Keep, he swore wearily that he didn’t ever want to even see a female again.

That had been last night, though. He could hardly remember the girls in Roundtree, but Kari was right back in the middle of his head again.

Lordee, what was a man to do, he thought miserably. What if he didn’t ever get her, what then? That wouldn’t happen, though, he promised himself. He’d have her. He just had to.

Pardo’s arrival tore the lazy afternoon wide open. Harsh war cries shook the Keep’s foundation and brought armed, half-dressed men stumbling down the narrow stairs. Pardo, Klu, and Jigger grinned up at them from under a ponderous collection of crates, casks, cotton sacks, and crockery jugs. The three looked more like traveling junkmen than seasoned raiders, and it was plain they’d sampled the clay jugs more than once along the way.

Pardo took one look at the bewildered faces and threw back his head and howled. Klu and Jigger near fell to the floor.

Godamn if you all ain’t somethin’ else!” Pardo roared. His smile suddenly faded and he scowled fiercely at the crew. “Why, we could’ve burned the place down and wouldn’t one of you woke up to see the fire! Ain’t I taught any of you nothin’? Jerry? Bo? How ’bout you, Jon?”

No one spoke for a long minute. Then Pardo’s grin broke through and they all laughed with him.

“All right,” he said sourly, tossing the sacks at their feet, “you lazy bastards kin dig in and eat ’til you pop a gut fer all I care, but I’m tellin’ you straight…” he held up a warning finger, “you best get yourselves movin’ proper by sundown, ’cause I’m going to work you all night and ride your asses off come morning!”

Nobody understood for a moment, then the whole crew burst into a loud cheer all at once.

Pardo showed his teeth. “Didn’t figure you’d mind too much, seein’ as how you’re ever’ godamn one going to be rich as Old Kings ’bout this time next week.” He punched Jigger harshly in the ribs. “Git that stuff out where we can see it man, and let’s hop on it!”

The party didn’t take long getting underway. Free food and whiskey was news in Roundtree, the same as anywhere else, and it wasn’t fifteen minutes before a curious crowd had gathered in front of the Keep. No one got in who wasn’t supposed to, which meant riders who worked full-time for Pardo, and whatever women were available. But there was plenty to eat and drink and more on the way. Soon there was just as big a party outside as in.

Good white corn was on hand for the asking and a few special crocks aged in the barrel, if you knew the right people. There were sacks of new potatoes to toss in the big pot over the kitchen fire, fat loaves of hot bread, and green heads of cabbage brought in from Rebel country, east of the mountains. Best of all, there were great baskets of fresh, hot meat, some of it young colt no more than three or four years old, roasted whole on the spit. Not one slice of that cut found its way out of the Keep and into the crowd.

Howie knew something was up, for certain. When Pardo treated everybody in the Keep and half of Roundtree, you could bet somebody else’d be paying for it soon.

He glanced up once and saw Kari at the head of the stairs. She took one look at the brawl in progress below and fled back to her room. Howie wished glumly that he could join her. Not that anything’d come of it, but at least he’d be out of the mess downstairs. He tried his own room, but one of the crew had already taken a girl in and locked the door behind him. For a moment, he thought about rousting them both out and giving the man what for.

Instead, he wandered down to the kitchen and found himself a hot slab of meat and a piece of bread. Most everyone had gotten their fill and the kitchen was empty, so he settled down behind a big barrel to chew his meal. The noise came in loud as ever, but at least all the people had drifted out to the other room. The eating time was over, and serious drinking was getting underway. It’d last until the whiskey was gone, or a good fight put everyone on the street.

Again, Howie wondered what in all hell Pardo was thinking about. Maybe he had gone plumb crazy, filling half of Roundtree with food and whiskey. By sundown, every-: one in town would know they were riding out in the morning and no one would have to guess what they were up to. Colonel Monroe and every Loyalist trooper in the Territory’d be just licking their chops and waiting. Then, what? Howie thought miserably. He felt vaguely sick inside and knew it wasn’t the meat. The whole business gave him the shivers.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The steep trail twisted like a dry river through a tumble of giant boulders worn by wind and weather. From the top of the ridge he could look back and see the long column winding up to meet him. It was hard going and taxed the best that men and mounts had to offer. Loose stone turned slick as ice under a horse’s hooves and threatened to send mount and rider sliding off the path. Men below cursed and held their breath as rock and choking dust clattered down to meet them.

Howie decided no one could have mistaken the band for anything but what it was. There wasn’t a man afoot in Par- do’s hire—only heavily armed raiders on horses. Even the precious cargo of weapons was slung across the backs of a dozen sturdy mounts.

Not one of the riders had ever seen that done before—a horse was for carrying a man, and much too valuable for hauling heavy loads about.

But wagons were too slow for Pardo. In this war party a man carried what he needed on his back. When he ran out of that, why, he’d just have to do without.

Harlie reined up beside him and rubbed the mask of sweat and dust from his face. “I’ll be godamned if I ain’t wishin’ I’d of got a lot drunker’n I did,” he growled. “Last night I had a right good idea what I come on this trip for, but I sure can’t remember what it was.”

“You were goin’ to be rich as one of them Old Kings,” said Howie.

“Oh, yeah, I do recall.” He screwed up his weathered face and scratched his chin. “’Bout when you reckon that’ll be?”

“I don’t reckon nothing ’til I see it, Harlie. And I ain’t real sure about it then.”

“Uhuh.” Harlie thought a minute. “That’s sound thinkin’ in a outfit like this.” He took a long swig of water and wiped his sleeve across his mouth. “Ain’t hardly nothin’ a man can do but take the breaks as he sees ’em, and hope for the best. But I’ll tell you certain, the more I put my mind to it the more I wish I was back under some fine shade in Roundtree with a big, cool cup of corn close by. Lordee!

Howie laughed. “Harlie, you want to be poor and drunk all your life?”

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