CHAPTER 30
Allingham’s anxiety grew worse as the minutes dragged by that morning. Preacher could understand why. If more warriors from the Pawnee band had massacred Simon Russell and the other members of the rescue party and taken the horses, it would take days for Preacher and Allingham to catch up to their quarry on foot. Preacher didn’t know if the senator was even up to such a trek, although he was sure Allingham would insist on going forward.
With the lives of his wife and daughter at stake, he couldn’t really do anything else.
So it was with great relief that Preacher spotted the riders approaching in the distance. Allingham didn’t seem to notice them, and Preacher didn’t say anything until the men on horseback were close enough for him to recognize Simon Russell in the lead. Everything appeared to be fine.
“Here they come, Senator,” the mountain man said.
Allingham had been sitting on the ground, looking depressed. Animated by Preacher’s comment, he leaped to his feet and peered to the south, exclaiming, “Where—Oh, thank God! That’s Russell, isn’t it?”
“Yep,” Preacher agreed. He took off his broad-brimmed hat and waved it over his head. He knew Russell was almost as keen-eyed as he was and would see the signal letting him know it was all right to come on in.
“We have a chance to save them now,” Allingham said.
“We always had a chance. But we’ve got a better one with the horses, that’s for sure.”
Dog ran to meet the newcomers and then led them in, wagging his bushy tail as he did so because he was happy to be reunited with Horse. The two animals had been trail partners and genuine friends for a long time.
As they rode up with the rest of the rescue party, Heinrich Ritter and the two servants, Ludwig and Egon, stared at the Pawnee corpses. Russell didn’t look particularly shocked to see the dead Indians.
“Looks like you had a little trouble here,” he commented to Preacher as he dismounted.
“Not much to speak of,” Preacher said. “Just a few varmints coverin’ the rear. I was worried that you might run into more of ’em, though.”
Russell shook his head and said, “We didn’t see hide nor hair of any Pawnee.”
“That’s good. Roderick and the rest of that bunch pulled out a little after sunup. We’ll let the horses rest a while and then get started after them.”
Preacher could tell that Allingham wanted to mount up and gallop after the kidnappers right away. He would just have to figure out a way to be patient, though. A lot depended on those horses, and they had to be taken care of.
After a half-hour that probably seemed a lot longer to Allingham, the men swung up into their saddles and Preacher led the party northward on the trail of the kidnappers. They were several hours behind their quarry and likely wouldn’t catch up before the sun went down.
Roderick had said that he wanted to reach their destination by that night, however, and when they did they would stop. Preacher and his men would push on. A showdown was coming, and the sooner the better as far as Preacher was concerned.
The inside of the British post was as primitive and crudely furnished as Stahlmaske would have expected here in this American wilderness. The floor was made of tree trunks split in half and roughly fitted together. The tables and benches were equally rough-hewn. Shelves loaded with trade goods—rifles, pistols, knives, axes, powder horns, shot pouches, food staples—lined the walls of the main room. In the back was a counter where trappers could barter with the man running the post, and to one side was a rough-and-ready bar made of splintery planks laid across whiskey barrels.
At gunpoint, the prisoners were herded in on legs shaky from fatigue. Rothfuss, the man who seemed to be in charge here at the post, was tall and almost painfully thin, with a pair of pince-nez perched on his nose.
“This is the lot you were after, then, eh?” he said as he looked at the captives.
“That’s right,” Battersby replied.
Rothfuss counted, pointing to each of the prisoners in turn, and then said, “There are only four of them. There were supposed to be five.”
Roderick stepped forward and said, “There’s no longer any need for the masquerade, my friend. My own role in this is now common knowledge.”
“You’re him, then,” Rothfuss said. “The Prussian turncoat.”
Roderick’s face flushed angrily at the description. Stahlmaske let out a scornful laugh.
“I see that this man is well acquainted with you, brother,” he said.
Roderick snapped, “I’m simply doing what’s best for everyone concerned.”
“Except those of us who are going to be murdered. Face it, Roderick. You’re doing this to further your own cause, and no other reason. You’re going to be responsible for the deaths of three women and your own brother because you’re nothing more than a spiteful, greedy little swine.”
Roderick’s face twisted. He stepped closer to Stahlmaske and swung a vicious backhand that cracked across the count’s face. It was an awkwardly thrown blow, but it landed with enough power to snap Stahlmaske’s head to the side.
“I don’t have to take your arrogant abuse anymore,” Roderick said, panting a little from the rage that possessed him. “I’m in charge now, Albert, not you. You’ll never run roughshod over me or anyone else, ever again.”
Stahlmaske held up his bound hands and said, “It would be very, very different if I were free, eh? Then you wouldn’t be so brave. You’d be a mouse again, instead of a bear.”
“You think so, do you? I should—” Roderick stopped short, frowned at his brother for a second, and then shook his head. “No, you won’t trick me into setting you free, even for a moment. You’re going to remain helpless for the rest of your life . . . however long that may be.”
“Speaking of which,” Rothfuss said, “how do we know that senator fellow will actually show up the way we’re counting on?”
“We have his wife and daughter. He’ll come after us.”
“Plus we made arrangements to have some of the Indians watch our back trail as well,” Battersby added. “If they see a good opportunity, they’ll capture Senator Allingham, kill whoever is with him, and bring him straight to us.”
Gretchen spoke for the first time in hours, saying, “You’re forgetting something, all of you.”
“What would that be, my dear?” Roderick asked her.
“If he’s alive, Preacher will be with the senator.”
“A minister?” Rothfuss said as he frowned in confusion. “Why should we be worried about a minister?”
“He’s not that sort of preacher,” Roderick said, and now he was frowning, too.
Not in confusion, though, thought Stahlmaske. His brother was worried.
And as much as Stahlmaske might despise Preacher personally, he found himself hoping that Gretchen was right.
That uncivilized, unwashed mountain man might be their only real hope for survival.
Preacher pushed the party as fast as he dared without wearing out the horses. He could tell from the sign left behind by the men they were trailing that the kidnappers weren’t hurrying. Preacher knew that his group had cut into their lead.
He didn’t want to catch up to them in broad daylight, though, so he called a halt from time to time even though those delays chafed at Allingham.
He would probably feel the same way if a couple of women he loved were in the hands of that bunch.
As the sun began to go down and Preacher stopped again, Allingham finally burst out, “We have to keep going! We should have caught them by now!”
“We don’t want them to see us comin’, Senator,” Preacher explained. “The darkness is our only chance of takin’ ’em by surprise.”
“We can’t surprise them. You heard Roderick. They want us to find them. They’ll be expecting us no matter when we attack them.”
“The surprise will be in the way we attack ’em.”
Allingham took off his hat and ran his hand over his head before he sighed in exasperation.
“I know. You’ve gone over the plan. And I hope it works. This waiting is just dreadfully hard. I wish we’d never left Washington. Margaret and Sarah would be safe now if we were still there.”
Preacher had seen more bad things happen in cities than he had out here on the frontier, but he didn’t figure the senator wanted to hear anything like that right now. So he just ambled over to the three Prussians and asked, “Are you boys doin’ all right?”
Ludwig grimaced and said, “I did not know that riding horses would cause one to hurt so much.” He reached down and rubbed the insides of his thighs.
Preacher chuckled. He said, “Yeah, it’ll get to you after a while if you ain’t used to it. You fellas will be good riders by the time this is over.”
“If we survive,” Egon said.
Heinrich Ritter said, “Nothing will stop me from freeing my sister and avenging poor Hobart’s death. I would pursue those men all the way to the very gates of hell.”
“Well, we shouldn’t have to go quite that far,” Preacher told him. “But it’s good that you feel that way, Heinrich. Just keep your head and do what you’re told when the time comes, and you’ll be all right.”
“I do not care about myself,” Heinrich said with a shake of his head. “Only Gretchen and Hobart.”
Preacher clapped a hand on his shoulder for a second and then moved on to Simon Russell. The former trapper had taken his hat off and hunkered on his heels, peering northward over the prairie in the fading light.
Preacher knelt beside him and said quietly, “They ain’t far ahead of us now.”
“I know. I can still read signs, even after spending too much time in town the past couple of years.” Russell looked back over his shoulder at the others. “Still plan on using the senator as a distraction while you and I get in amongst the enemy?”
“Unless you have a better idea.”
Russell shook his head.
“No, that stands more of a chance of working than anything else. But the odds are still going to be stacked pretty high against us, Preacher.”
“I know.”
Russell narrowed his eyes and asked, “If it comes down to it, do we save the women or the count?”
“I reckon you know the answer to that.”
“If anything happens to the count, it could mean war between the United States and Prussia.”
“We’ll just have to risk it,” Preacher said. “But we’re gettin’ those women out safe and sound, no matter what else happens.”
Russell nodded and said, “All right, then. For what it’s worth, I see things the same way.”
“Never doubted it,” Preacher said.
The other man chuckled, then said, “You know, I started to say that I was sorry I asked you to come along and got you mixed up in this mess. But I’m not sorry, Preacher. Hell, if it wasn’t for you, we never would’ve stood a chance in the first place. So it’s a good thing I decided to ask you for a favor. For old time’s sake, you know.”
Preacher nodded and told him, “Believe it or not, I’m glad I’m here, too, Simon.” He grinned and added, “Shoot, if I hadn’t come along, I probably never would’ve had the chance to have a swordfight with a Prussian count!”