The towering fortress gates remained open just long enough for the black prison wagon to leave the remote cavalry outpost and then they were closed and secured. Two guards rode to either side of the departing wagon as its driver used his reins to whip its matched pair of horses into a trot. The curious vigilante stood upon the parapet watching the wagon as it headed north at ever increasing speed. Hoof dust hung in the hot desert air and marked a trail across white sand.
‘Who in tarnation is in the prison wagon, trooper?’ Moon asked as he struck a match and lit the twisted cigarette between his lips. A sentry beside him looked up at Moon as smoke drifted from the vigilante’s mouth.
‘Why, that’s Capt. Ward,’ the trooper replied. ‘He’s going to be court-marshalled for messing up our rifles. I thought you knew that, seeing as it was you that figured out why we suddenly became such bad shots.’
Uriah Moon nodded. ‘You’re right. It was me that figured out that he must have meddled with the forts rifles. I hope they’re all fixed now.’
The trooper lifted his rifle to his mouth and kissed its wooden stock. Moon could not hide his amusement by the soldier’s action.
‘They sure are fixed.’ The trooper grinned and slapped the body of his rifle and winked. ‘I could shoot the eye out of a vulture with this baby now.’
Uriah Moon shrugged and then shook his head as he failed to find the right words to reply with. It had only been a hunch but he had guessed correctly why the troopers had failed so miserably to hit their targets even when the warriors circled the fortress and were sitting ducks.
‘How’d you figure it, Mr. Moon?’ the sentry asked.
‘It just seemed obvious to me that you and your fellow troopers would never miss that many times,’ Moon answered and then added. ‘Plus it was a darn lucky guess.’
‘You keep guessing like that,’ the trooper smiled. ‘I might live a little longer.’
The vigilante stared down on the vultures who had been attracted to the blood stained sand and the Apache corpses who had unfortunately lost their lives during the frenzied attack the previous day.
There was nothing to compare with the sickening sound of the powerful birds ripping dead flesh from bones. Nothing apart from the sight of feasting birds relishing the human flesh that hung from their hooked bills.
Moon wanted to draw one of his six-guns and start shooting the feasting birds to stop the horrific sound, but then realized that the hunchbacked birds were at least saving the battle-weary troopers the back-breaking job of burying the corpses.
He then flicked the spent remnant of his cigarette at them instead. To his surprise the vulture ate that as well without any ill effects.
The tall vigilante had seen and heard far worse in his time, he thought. He diverted his eyes from the horrific sight and pulled his golden pocket watch from his vest pocket, opened its lid and checked the time. He then sighed heavily with disappointment. Moon then snapped it shut and returned it to his pocket. His slim fingers than withdrew his tobacco pouch and swiftly started to roll himself another cigarette.
The sentry had watched the tall man and was curious.
‘You going someplace?’ the trooper asked his tall companion as he stood watching the prison wagon and its escorts disappearing into the heat haze.
Moon tossed a spent match over the fort wall and then filled his lungs with smoke.
‘What you mean?’ Moon asked.
The trooper knew that he had to be careful talking to anyone who happened to look the way Moon happened to look. This was probably the most dangerous person who had ever visited Fort Hook and not a character to underestimate.
‘That must be the tenth time I’ve seen you checking your time-piece since you came up here onto the parapet,’ the sentry said.
Moon raised his eyebrows. ‘It is?’
‘You meeting somebody later?’ the trooper asked through a broad grin. ‘Seems like you don’t wanna be late. Must be a female by my reckoning.’
The vigilante turned away from the soldier.
‘I just like checking the time,’ he lied.
The trooper laughed out loud and continued on his walk around the fort walls. Moon could still hear the laughter as he descended down to the parade ground and walked across its expanse to the steps which led to the colonel’s office. As he mounted the steps, three at a time, Moon wondered if his cousin had yet worked out what he was going to do with the Hooper girls.
At the top of the steps, Moon paused and cast his unblinking eyes upon the heavens. He glanced across at the sun and knew that it was making its way down toward the distant horizon as was its nightly ritual.
Another day was dying.
The trouble was that it was taking a hell of a long time to die, he silently cursed.
Soon the sky would darken as it always did. Blue would be replaced by black velvet. But not quite yet, he thought. There was still a little life left in the dying day.
Too much as far as Uriah Moon was concerned.
Moon smiled to himself and wondered about the handsome female who had invited him to supper. Was June Marcus simply a kind hearted widow woman or perhaps she was a hungry man eater who wanted to feast on him. Either way, the vigilante was more than willing to take the risk.
Uriah Moon chuckled and stroked his beard. If there was a good way to die, then it had to be in the arms of a beautiful female, he reasoned. If there was a better way, he could not think of it.
The vigilante swung on his heels and faced the office door before grabbing at its brass knob. He twisted it, entered and to his surprise found his cousin was not alone. Moon halted a few paces into the office and studied the situation.
Major Sylas Carter was stood to attention as Colonel Ambrose sat behind his desk giving orders in a way that only commanding officers can do.
Both men turned and stared at Moon as he dragged a chair away from the wall. They watched as the vigilante sat down and gestured for them to continue their discussion.
‘Carry on with your soldier talk, gentlemen,’ Moon said with a disinterested expression on his face. He folded his leg and continued staring at them.
The colonel cleared his throat.
‘That’ll be all for now, Major,’ Ambrose said. ‘Go get yourself some dinner. It must be about that time.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Carter saluted, turned and walked toward the door. He nodded at Moon and then departed swiftly. Moon sat smoking his cigarette as his cousin exhaled heavily and moved a mountain of papers around on his desk.
‘Haven’t you got someone to kill, Uriah?’ Ambrose asked coyly before smiling to himself.
‘Not at the moment, Ambrose,’ Moon drawled. ‘But I’m working on it.’
The colonel pulled a handkerchief from his tunic and mopped his sweating brow. He then looked from his chair through the large window at the still blistering sun which cast its rays upon the glass panes. He silently glanced at his cousin as he started to organize the papers on his desk.
‘How come you ain’t sweating, Uriah?’ he asked the vigilante. ‘It’s hot enough to melt the gates of Hell.’
‘I hadn’t noticed,’ Moon retorted.
‘You hadn’t noticed?’
‘Nope.’ The keen eyes of the vigilante had noticed that most of the brandy was now missing from the bottle upon the desk. He did not mention it as he got back to his feet and paced toward the seated officer.
As the tall frame of the vigilante reached the desk, Ambrose looked at him and spoke wearily.
‘You ready for dinner, Uriah?’ he asked as he poured the last of the cognac into his glass. ‘It must be time by now. We can go and eat together.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ Moon stated.
‘Suit yourself, Uriah.’ The colonel sighed dismissively.
Moon sat down on the chair opposite the one Ambrose was seated upon. He tilted his head and looked hard at the troubled officer. Moon was still concerned about the Hooper girls and what fate awaited them should they be sent to Cougar’s Bluff.
‘I see you’re another three men down, Ambrose,’ the stated.
‘What?’ Colonel Ambrose looked up at his cousin.
‘I just watched the prison wagon carrying Capt. Ward off with a two-man escort and a driver,’ Moon noted as he dropped the remains of his cigarette on the floorboards before crushing it underfoot. ‘That means you’re now a further three troopers down.’
Ambrose nodded in agreement. ‘I had another wire from headquarters ordering me to send Ward for trial. They don’t seem to understand the situation here and how we need urgent replacements.’
Uriah Moon glanced at the wall clock.
‘Is that clock right, Ambrose?’ he asked.
The colonel glanced at the wall clock and then returned his attention to his cousin. He frowned.
‘Check it with that gold time-piece in your vest pocket, Uriah. I don’t know if the damn thing is right or wrong. I don’t actually give a damn. Why do you?’
The vigilante shrugged.
‘I’ve an appointment at seven, Ambrose,’ he admitted.
The officer raised his bushy eyebrows and grinned from ear to ear. He looked long and hard at the expressionless Moon and leaned toward his cousin.
‘Who with?’ the colonel pushed a cigar into his mouth, bit off its tip and spat at the floor. ‘I didn’t think you knew anyone here at Fort Hook. Who in tarnation do you have an appointment with, Uriah?’
The vigilante chose not to answer.
‘I’m amazed, Uriah,’ the colonel smirked. ‘You are a mysterious critter and no mistake. You’re out blowing Apaches up with dynamite one minute and then hours later you find yourself a woman in Fort Hook to have an appointment with. You are utterly amazing.’
Moon neither confirmed or denied his cousin’s theory. His face remained expressionless. He rose to his feet and walked to the wall map and studied it carefully. It was clear that whoever made the map had never been anywhere near to Satan’s Spell. It was a work of pure imagination. There was no sign of the huge forested area which the vigilante knew for a fact existed as he had been there.
His eyes looked back at the colonel.
‘Tell me something, Ambrose,’ he said as he tightened the leather lace around his long beard. ‘How many guards are you sending to escort those young Hooper girls?’
The colonel stood and walked to the side of the vigilante. With smoke billowing from the cigar between his teeth he looked straight at his cousin. He was as worried about the girls as Moon was and it showed.
‘I can only spare four guards to protect them girls,’ He snapped angrily before shaking his head and staring at the floorboards. ‘I know it’s not enough, but what can I do?’
Uriah Moon eyed his cousin. He could smell the hard liquor on his breath but knew that Ambrose only drank when he was deeply concerned. Concerned about transporting the girls safely to their aunt’s home in Cougar Bluff.
‘You could let them remain here, Ambrose,’ Moon suggested calmly as stared at the map. ‘At least until you get the replacements and the fort is fully manned again.’
The colonel sighed heavily.
‘That’s exactly what I would do,’ he revealed. ‘The trouble is that the army has different ideas. They’ve ordered me to send them girls to Cougar Bluff right away.’
‘Why,’ the vigilante wondered. ‘Why the urgency? Surely a week or two wouldn’t make much difference.’
Ambrose shook his head. ‘The bigwigs at army headquarters want them girls out of here. I don’t know why but they’ve given me orders and I have to obey them.’
‘I reckon you do,’ Uriah Moon said. He knew that Ambrose had been in the army too long to knowingly disobey orders, but was also aware that his cousin secretly agreed with him. ‘I sure wish I could advise you but I can’t.’
‘If I did send ten or twenty troopers to escort those girls to Cougar’s Bluff it would leave us seriously undermanned here at the fort,’ the colonel said. ‘There might be more survivors in Lucifer’s Lair than we think. If we came under attack then, I don’t reckon Fort Hook could survive.’
‘You might be right,’ Moon agreed.
The colonel tilted his head back and stared hard at his cousin. Ambrose could see one way that his problem might be resolved but knew that it depended on the expressionless Uriah Moon.
‘What if you joined the escort, Uriah?’ he suggested. ‘What if you rode with the girls and my troopers?’
The notion did not sit well with Moon. The vigilante shook his head and turned. He strode across the office toward the door. He grabbed its brass knob, twisted it and pulled it toward him. Before the vigilante could exit the office, the colonel’s voice stopped his cousin in his tracks.
‘Uriah.’
Moon paused and glanced back. ‘This ain’t nothing to do with me. I’ve done my bit. I rescued them females, killed the smuggler named Spangler Brough and a whole bunch of Apaches that were trying to kill me. I even blew the Lair apart. I’m finished here and I’ll be heading out as soon as my mustang is rested up.’
‘Come on, Uriah,’ Ambrose said humbly. ‘You can’t just up and leave. I’m depending on you. Those young girls are dependent on you. You know the lay of the land around that place and that knowledge could be the difference between life and death. You are the equal of ten of my troopers and I’ve a feeling you’ll get them girls safely to their destination.’
Moon knew that every single word his kinsman had uttered was true but he wanted nothing to do with this scheme to send the sisters into the hostile land known as Satan’s Spell.
As far as he was concerned it was insane to even consider it and Uriah Moon was not insane. He narrowed his eyes and glared angrily at Ambrose.
‘Not on your life, Ambrose. I’m going to check my mustang and when it’s rested up, I’m riding out of here,’ he said. ‘Find yourself another fool. I’m through.’
The door slammed and the sound of Moon’s descending boots rang out around the office. The colonel walked back to his desk and lifted up his glass and downed the contents in one swift swallow. As the brandy burned a trail through his innards, he rammed the cigar back into his mouth and started to puff like a freight train.
Removing the cigar in order to catch his breath, the colonel buried his head on to his folded arms. Suddenly the door opened and Ambrose looked up at his sergeant. Potter stood holding a tray with a pot of coffee upon it with two cups.
‘Oh, your cousin has gone already?’ he said. ‘I fixed him some coffee. Guess I’ll take it back to the cook house.’
The colonel sat bolt upright and waved his hands at Potter.
‘No,’ Ambrose said. ‘Don’t do that. Leave it here with me, Tyler. I’ll drink it.’
Sgt. Potter had never heard his commanding officer request a pot of coffee before and was stunned. He leaned over the colonel to double check.
‘Are you sure, sir?’ Potter questioned.
‘Of course I’m damn sure.’ The colonel cursed and beat the ink blotter with his hands. ‘Put the coffee pot down here and pour me a cup, Tyler.’
Potter placed the tray on top of the desk blotter and poured his superior a cup of the black beverage as demanded. Steam rose from the strong brew as the officer took hold of it and inhaled its vapors.
‘Make sure I drink every drop of this muck, Tyler,’ he ordered. ‘I need to get my wits together and that brandy sure hasn’t helped me.’
The sergeant realized what his superior was talking about but had never felt it was his place to mention it. He hovered beside the desk and nodded.
‘Yes, sir,’ Potter quietly said.
Colonel Ambrose Moon started to drink the coffee as quickly as he could while Potter replenished each cup with fresh hot coffee. The officer had been embarrassed that his last surviving kinsman appeared to be capable of working this problem out better than he himself could.
‘Why are you doing this, sir?’ Potter asked as he handed the colonel another cup of coffee. ‘You don’t even like coffee that much unless it’s to swill down your vittles’.’
Ambrose cast his eyes in Potter’s direction.
‘I’ve gotta figure out this problem,’ Ambrose admitted.
‘But why drink coffee?’
‘To get as clear-headed as Uriah obviously is, Tyler,’ Ambrose answered. ‘That bearded galoot can see things that I simply cannot see. Maybe it’s the brandy that is slowing my thinking up or maybe it’s the coffee that’s sharpening his wits.’
‘Is this to do with those young Hooper girls, sir?’
Ambrose downed his third cup of black coffee and nodded. His watery eyes looked as Potter refilled the cup.
‘I need to find a way of sending them youngsters to Cougar’s Bluff safely, Potter,’ he announced. ‘Maybe if I wash myself out with this strong coffee, I’ll be able to find an answer. A safe answer that so far keeps eluding me.’
Potter continued to pour and the colonel continued to drink.
Both became determined to find an answer.
The correct answer.