Part Eight

Once more onto the Breach

Ezra had no intention of returning to the Barrens so soon.

When he and Mary rode out of the place the night before, the gambler had sincerely prayed it would be the last time he ever set foot in the harsh wasteland. He knew he was being ridiculous, that what he had done to free Mary Travis was a means to an end not some deep seeded part of himself that he had no idea existed, until now. Something about Julius made him feel fear the way nothing had in too long. Oh Ezra had known his share of pain, he had known his share of vile, sadistic men but this was the first time he felt genuine fear. Mostly, he felt contempt for what they were but Julius had struck a nerve he did not believe could be reached.

He spent his life being able to read people, to look into their eyes and know immediately what they were thinking, he could see the presence of a soul or the lack of one. In truth, it was very comforting to know that the gift he possessed would always give him some kind of edge over the people he associated with. It was one of the reasons why he was apart of the fellowship of seven men guarding Four Corners.

He knew in the beginning that Chris Larabee had not trusted him and Ezra could not blame the man for that assertion considering their first adventure together had seen him turning tail and running. However, while he saw the lack of trust in Chris’ eyes, he could also see something else and it was the something else that made him stay because Ezra could tell that the gunslinger believed he deserved a second chance. As cynical as he tended to be about most things, Ezra would gladly follow Chris Larabee into hell if it was required because he rarely met anyone willing to give him a second chance and it was even more rare, when he wanted the opportunity.

Reading people was his trade and as astute as his observations were about his friends, Ezra knew the reason for his apprehension with Hannibal Julius was because for that very reason. Understanding Hannibal Julius by being able to read him was what struck cold fear into his heart. There were many things that could paralyse people with fear and he had chanced upon men several times in his life to know that there was always something in the core of them to inspire savage brutality. Whatever form or shape it took, it was there, festering in the darkness, growing strength with each act of murder or cruelty.

There was nothing in Julius.

No fear, no conscience, not even a soul. There was no history to make him what he was, he had come into the world simple being as such. It frightened Ezra beyond belief because there was no way to reason with a creature like this because nothing mattered enough to him personally except filling the void with his most baser impulses. What made the whole thing worse was that Julius was able to draw others into his insanity, until they fell into the void as well and became part of a larger evil that had now had the name, Citadel. Ezra did not voice to his companions as they rode into the Barrens that even if they stopped Julius from carrying out his plans for the railroad, the movement would still exist and the seven would be known to the enemy.

"Do you hear that?" The tracker suddenly interrupted their short break with that statement and put his two friends on immediate alert.

Their journey had been broken in order for the tracker to examine the main trails that led out of the Barrens to the places displayed in the map. They needed to see if a convoy had come through in the last few hours. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how one looked at it, the convoy had yet to make its departure from the mining facility that served as the Citadel base of operations. They had been travelling most of the morning and paused long enough to get some rest and to water the horses, not that there were many places in this area for such an endeavour. They had stopped at the banks of what was fast becoming an ox-bow lake. Time and erosion was choking the life out of the estuary, turning it eventually into a pond and finally into a swamp before the heat dissolved it completely. In the here and now, it still gasped uncertainly with life and provided a temporary oasis in the Barrens.

Chris immediately went for his gun as did Ezra as they strained to listen what the tracker with his acute sense of hearing picked up before they did. The voices was so distant that Chris could not even be sure that it was indeed human speech and not the sounds of nature that came with being so far out in the wilderness. He could hear birds flapping their wings in the air, lording over their human neighbours with a cry of triumph as they soared overhead while some other creatures just as native to the land made their noises but little that could be distinguished as human life.

Ezra was not so selective. Mr Tanner had proven time and time again that he was not to be ignored when he issued such warnings. Ezra immediately rose to his feet and pulled on the jacket he had divested off himself during the interlude, undoing the flap of his gun holster at the same time. He looked over the flat terrain, seeing nothing but shrubs, rocks and horizon but no sign of life. At least not yet. "I think it would be prudent to assume that if anyone was approaching this location that it would be for the purpose of partaking of this pool the way we had." He gesture to the cache of fresh water.

"Saddle up," Chris did not need to hear the sounds to know that they were there. Vin had said they were coming and as far as the gunslinger was concerned, that was more than enough for him. He glanced at Vin and was soon collecting their belongings and eradicating any signs of their presence before falling into stride with the tracker. "Vin, make sure that there are no tracks of any kind for them to find. If Bellison is with them, we don’t want him to know that we were here."

Vin nodded in understanding while Ezra looked about anxiously. Chris noticed something had spooked the gambler but for the life of him could not imagine what that might be. "You okay, Ezra?" He asked as he led his black gelding away from the watering hole while Vin took the precautions necessary to mask their presence.

"I am fine Mr Larabee," Ezra asked tautly. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem kind of tense." Chris pointed out as they put some distance between themselves and the oasis. When Chris was certain that they were far enough away for no one to be looking for tracks, they could mount their horses and widen the gap.

"We are about to engage idealistic fanatics armed with too much nitro glycerin, preparing to kill innocents and you wonder why I have reason to be tense?" Ezra looked at him and became aware that Vin was also listening closely even though he made no comment. Obviously, the tracker had also noticed what Chris had in the odd behaviour being displayed by Ezra.

"Yeah." Chris nodded simply. "We’ve been in worse situations."

"When?" The gambler looked at him incredulously.

"Something I ought to know Ezra?" Chris asked, deciding that gentle inquiry was not going to do it and subtlety performed on a master like Ezra was a pointless effort. Ezra was too slick to answer anything but a direct question. He would side step everything else easily and avoid giving anything away.

"Nothing." Ezra said shortly. "Nothing that effects our present circumstances."

Chris wanted to know more but could see from Ezra’s manner that the gambler did not wish to discuss it further and Chris had enough issues about privacy to not pry into someone else’s. Still, he could not help feeling some curiosity as to what could shake the cool, deliberate image of the professional con man that Ezra Standish wore as comfortably as his fancy clothes. Chris suspected more went on then Ezra was prepared to tell him and while he believed the man when he claimed that his silence had nothing to do with the situation at hand, Chris could not help wondering what the gambler found so difficult to reveal.

It did not help he supposed, that Ezra was forced to bring him news about Maria. In the light of Mary’s safe return, Chris had almost forgotten about the warm, sultry woman who had shared his bed before Mary and felt slightly ashamed about letting her death slip his mind. Inside him, there was a place where he kept his grief and knew that when he got his hands on Bellison and Julius, Chris had every intention of making the bastards pay for Maria’s death. She had been the soft voice and warm body that gave him comfort when he was ready to drink himself into oblivion whenever the pain of Sarah and Adam became even too much for him to cope. That she met her end because of him was unforgivable and made Chris swear an oath to mount the heads of those responsible for death on tall pikes as an example to any others that might be so frivolous about taking an innocent life.

He was about to answer in response to the gambler’s cryptic declaration when the sounds that he and Ezra had been unable to hear earlier became more acute. All three lawmen dug their heels into their mounts, causing the animals to hasten their departure and concealing their presence to the new arrivals.

There was something of a hill in the nearby distance which would provide for a good vantage point while they determined who was coming. Although no one made mention of it, the Barrens were barely inhabited and if someone was coming, there was really no doubt as to whom they could be. The trio of riders quickly made their way up the rocky incline, moving their horses from the line of sight as the reached the top and waited behind the scabs of rock running along the peak of the ridge, to await their appearance of the voices.

From the height, they were able to see the approach that Vin had warned them about using the senses hones from years of skill and tracking ability. The voices carried clearly across the flat terrain below them Chris was able to discern after several minutes that there were a lot of them coming towards the watering hole. He counted at least twenty men on horse back, all heavily armed, rifles tucked in their saddles as they neared the edge of the water. The reason for the armaments was clear to the lawmen as they spied the same wagons they had guarded so fastidiously until the army had arrived, travelling with the enemy.

"Can you make the shot from here?" Chris asked even though he was certain that Vin was trying to make that determination himself. It was quite a distance away, almost 800 yards by his reckoning and the ridge offered a clear line of sight but it was going to take extremely precise shooting. Vin could not afford to waste a single bullet to detonate the nitro before Bellison and his men close the distance between them and cut them to pieces. While he was confident that they might survive those odds, he knew that the engagement at the railway camp could not afford to be without them and so getting hurt here or worse yet, dying was something they could not afford.

Vin stared at the convoy moving obliviously to the lake, unaware at this time of their existence. When he pulled the trigger all that would change and there would not be many locations where he could make the shot before they guessed where he, Chris and Ezra were holed up. There were five wagons and he had to make five long range shots which he hoped would be able to set off the nitro at first attempt, if not he would have to try again which meant more time. Vin took all this into consideration before finally nodding slowly.

"Yeah, I reckon I can." He nodded.

Chris took a deep breath and faced the convoy once more. He thought quickly as to how they would proceed, recalling the plan he had in mind prior to their departure from Four Corners. He would have preferred better terrain to make the attempt and but decided that it was always up in the air where the engagement was going to be. Chris knew Bellison well enough to say for certain that if they succeeded in destroying the nitro, the former Indian scout would hunt them down until he had bodies to bring back to Julius for the blunder of allowing such a disaster to befall the mission. It was the only way Bellison could save his neck because even though the years had changed Julius into believing he was a demi-god, he was also a deity who did not look upon failure well.

"Get ready Vin," Chris ordered. "As soon as they get comfortable, make your shots."

Whether or not they destroyed the nitro using Vin’s sharpshooting skills, there was a deeper agenda that all three men were perfectly aware. None of the men accompanying the convoy could be allowed to return to Julius to warn him that the plans for his grand scheme was not progressing as it should. Whatever took place now, Julius had to make his move against the camp for the Citadel to be vulnerable.

Which meant win or lose, no one was walking away from this fight.

************

News of a coming massacre did not go down well with the powers of be, particularly on a construction site that had workers numbering in the hundreds who had difficulty comprehending the language of their employers. While Chris, Ezra and Vin were dealing with the status of the nitro, the general led the men normally devoted to his son to carry out their part of the plan, that is assisting in the evacuation of as many workers from the site as possible. The army had been wired for assistance but even Larabee was realistic enough to know that help was at least two days away and with an attack due sometime tomorrow, their assistance when it arrived would be too late.

Considering that most of the Chinese workers had family and the site had become the impromptu location of the local Chinese community with an infrastructure of a small town consisting of bazaars where peddlers sold their wares and exotic foods, gambling houses and opium dens. The last time the lawmen had visited it had been an exotic blend of the mysterious orient and the burgeoning industry of the new West. Now it was starting to become a town in its own rights, whose lifespan would last just about as long as it took for the construction work to complete with no fixed location. When the railway line continued deeper into the Territory, this patchwork community would pick up its roots and follow it along until it reached the inevitable conclusion of disappearing however when the work was done or settling down permanently.

As Josiah Sanchez allowed his gaze to sweep across the crowds of workers, moving with the precision of an ant colony, he realised what a Herculean task lay before them. There were so many people he could barely count them all and it was not exaggerating when their number was believed to be in the hundred. They were not merely of Chinese extraction but also Mexicans and any other race that had crossed the ocean in the belief that America was the land of opportunity. Perhaps it was, Josiah could not say rightly for sure, knowing that the journey had been tragic for many people.

McPhee the rail boss was presently arguing with the general who was putting across his argument that to ignore the warning about the attack would be a fatal mistake for everyone present. Josiah knew that until the general had arrived here and seen women and children living in the makeshift shanties that made up the bulk of the camp, the scope of much devastation could be caused had not fully impressed itself upon him. McPhee himself, was a reasonable man but he was bound by the limitations of what he could do to move so many people in so short a time.

"I’m telling we can’t move all these people out of here by tomorrow!" McPhee continued to debate with the general. It amused the rest of the seven to no end to see that the general was handling things the way Chris handled them, with the same obtuse manner and force of will that made most people flinch whenever they had to look into the powerful gaze of his dark eyes.

"I’m telling you, this is not a request." Larabee said firmly. "In 24 hours, you’re going to have close t a hundred men on horseback riding into this camp with the sole purpose of killing every living thing they can lay their hands on. We’re going to have a tough enough time keeping those men at bay without having to worry about women and children!"

"Listen, I hear you." McPhee tried to reason with the general but was starting to have a strange idea that this was never a request to begin with but an order that the man expected obeyed without any argument. "But I’m telling you, even if we could begin the evacuation, we couldn’t get them far enough for it to be any good. We don’t have enough horses or wagons in the entire camp to move that many people!"

"Well we better think of something," Larabee declared sharply, trying not to let his temper get the better of him. He looked about the camp, seeing old faces intermingled with young ones, going about their business with no idea that Armageddon was about to come down on them in less than a day. Neither was his mood improved knowing that his son was out there somewhere, battling it out against great numbers where it was possible for him to lose the boy again. "The men coming are fanatics. They believe they’re killing for a cause, which means they won’t have any difficulty killing everyone in sight if they can."

"Maybe there is a way around this." Buck added aware that the desperation of the situation was provoking the tempers of both men.

"Like what?" McPhee asked. The workers in his camp were not just paid labourers, some of them were his friends and he cared about all of them. Prior to his assuming the role of rail boss, his predecessors had been nothing less than criminally abusive of the Chinese workers under their yoke, stealing their wages and killing anyone who dared to speak out. Since those men had been vanquished by the very men who had brought him the terrible news of what was coming, McPhee had tried to do right by the workers, treating them as more than just cattle but as human beings. He would not revert to type by moving them like livestock when there was nowhere to go.

"Look," Buck said trying to be the voice of reason since he was well accustomed to playing the role for Chris when Vin was absent. " We can’t move all of them but maybe we can get the women and children out."

"That could be done." McPhee nodded, thinking how many there were exactly and while it would take the entire day to accomplish such a feat it was possible to move that many people. "But we’d still have a lot of workers here by the time these raiders of yours show up."

"I think we ought to see how many are willing to stand up and fight with us." Nathan suggested. "After all, it’s their necks we’re trying to save, their families."

"That’s something," the general nodded and then looked up at McPhee. "Alright, get started on evacuating the women and children immediately, I want them on wagons out of here by sundown. Meanwhile, we’ve got to set up some kind of fortifications for this camp, make it as hard as they can to get in here. You’ve got explosives I take it?"

"Yeah," McPhee replied, glad that they had come to a compromise and moved past the point of bickering to get some work done. He had to pray that this general and the lawmen knew what they were doing. "We used it for the construction." He answered.

"Get your powder man here," Buck replied. "We’re up a reception committee for those boys when they come around tomorrow."

**********

The convoy had come to a halt at the watering hole with no signs that they were aware of any visitors to the place prior to their arrival.

Chris, Ezra and Vin watched carefully as the enemy started to make camp for at least an hour or so as they took the time to water their horses and allow both man and beast to get some rest before resuming their caravan out of the Barrens. Chris saw Bellison barking orders to his men, having picked up no signs of their tracks and confirming to the gunslinger that Vin was still better than the former Indian Scout when it came to art of tracking and reading the land.

Speaking of Vin, the sharpshooter was stretched out on his stomach, resting on his elbows as he prepared the lengthy projectiles with their full metal jackets in a neat row as he set up for the sniper barrage he would soon deliver upon the enemy. As of yet, the Citadel fanatics had no idea that they were being watched and Chris wanted no more time to pass than required to give them the chance to make the discovery even though the lawmen from Four Corners were discreetly hidden. While Vin made his own preparations, Chris and Ezra did the same with their own weapons, keeping their ammunition within easy reach while ensuring that all the guns they carried were fully loaded, down to the derringer tucked away under Ezra’s crisp white sleeve.

"How you doing Vin?" Chris asked again, glancing across the landscape to whatever was transpiring at the enemy camp. So far men had been dispersed around the wagon and he could tell that despite their relaxed manner under the afternoon sun, it would take little more than a nudge to coax them into full alertness if they thought trouble was in the air.

"Almost there pard." Vin said with no hint of anxiousness despite the fact that their entire plan relied upon his skill. However both Chris and Ezra knew that his unflappable demeanour was for their benefit only. They could tell by the taut line of his jaw and the tension in his manner that he was concentrating fully on the momentous task he had before him.

"Mr Tanner, I hope your skills are as lauded as we think they are or this is going to end badly." Ezra drawled.

"Thanks," Vin cast his gaze over his shoulder at the gambler. "I’ll remember that the next you want to borrow one of my scarves after you lose everything at the gambling tables."

"Excuse me, I think we ought to clarify that I only had to borrow you scarf once," Ezra said with great dignity. "The other time, the proprietor of the establishment was good enough to make that donation and thus saving my honour, not to mention my modesty."

"Saving your honour my ass," Vin retorted and then said with a smug smile. "Or maybe he just want to spare his customers from seeing yours like half the town did when you had walk out of there." The tracker chuckled, knowing how much Ezra had to be reminded of the unfortunate incident when he had become obsessed with defeating a fellow gambler (who turned to be cheating) until he had lost just about everything, including his shirt.

"At least I had a table cloth to cover my nudity," Ezra smirked at him. "If I recall the last time you were caught in a similar situation, you had to run ‘buck naked’, pardon the pun until you found your clothes."

"True," Vin retorted not about to cry defeat yet since he had an addendum to that statement he was certain Ezra was also going to hate hearing about. "Still come the next night I could and you didn’t."

"That Sir," Ezra bristled, "was an underhanded trick. Potassium nitrate should be made an illegal substance...."

"Will you two cut it out!" Chris growled in a low voice but with enough intensity to make them both sit up and pay attention. He would rather his comrades remain focussed instead of indulging in this juvenile bantering when so much relied upon them. "Your usual comedy act can wait."

"I’ll have you know that our ‘comedy act’ as you put it is the toast of four states." The gambler said with a perfectly straight face, exchanging a slight snigger of mischief with the tracker who returned it with a sparkle in his blue eyes.

Chris shook his head and wondered why he bothered. Despite the two men being diametrically opposed as any two human beings might be; Ezra with his polish and refinement and Vin who was more rustic in his ways. The duo seemed to have the same strange sense of humour and could always be counted on, usually with Buck, who made the last part of their triumvirate to playing practical jokes that was more suited to ten year old boys.

Just to prove that they were not completely unmindful of the urgency over their present circumstances, Vin positioned his rifle and raised himself to his elbows, his eye lowering to the sight to take aim. "I’m ready as I’m every gonna be pard."

"Okay," Chris nodded, forgetting everything else now that the moment was upon them. He glanced in Ezra’s direction and offered the gambler a slight nod as he retrieved his ivory handled peacemaker and cocked the gun with an audible click. There was no need to speak since everything that needed saying passed between their eyes in a secret language that was far more effective than the spoken word.

Ezra unsheathed his own guns and depressed the trigger just enough for the hammer to pull back in readiness for action when it finally came time to shoot. While his face showed no signs of apprehension, Chris spied his Adam’s apple bobbing once or twice so slightly that no one else would have noticed other than Chris and the rest of the seven. It was not often the mask wavered but when it did, it was still enough to conceal the fact from most people except those who knew him very well.

"We ready?" Chris asked, just to make certain, since there was no going back once they began.

"Yep." Came Vin’s short reply.

"Once more onto the breach, dear friends. Once more." Ezra muttered softly.

"Henry the Fifth," Chris surprised him by responding. "Before the battle of Agincourt." A slow smile stole across his face in the wake of Ezra’s surprised expression. "Good choice, Ez."

"Let us hope we win the day like they did." Ezra remarked and face front.

"All right Vin," Chris said finally. "Do it."

Vin nodded and took a deep breath and aimed the long barrel of the gun in the direction of the farthest wagon from his line of sight. He aimed to make the most difficult shots first and then move onto the ones closer. If he missed, he would have more time to reload and try again before hell broke loose and Bellison’s men came after them. He was well aware even though Chris had not made mention of it, that none of those wagons could be allowed to escape with its cargo intact.

It took less than two seconds for the bullet to escape the long barrel of the rifle and strike its target once the trigger was pulled. The sound was so loud that Chris and Ezra had to retreat a few away as the roar filled the air and alerted everyone on the lonely plains to the muzzle blast from that first shot. The roar that followed the release of the chemical reaction made the gunshot pale as the bullet tore through the canvas and struck home. The wagon seemed to ignite in a ball of fire as the nitro glycerin was ignited and a surge of flames shot through the blue sky. The three men who were guarding the wagon at the time did not have time to scream before a wall of flames enveloped them even if they had not already been killed by the shock wave.

The small camp immediately went into disarray as terrified and angry voices followed the eruption. The fire burned so hot and fierce that Chris and Ezra could hear the rumble of flames as it consumed everything that was the wagon. Chris could see Bellison running towards the wreckage with the rest of his men, disorientated by the sudden attack, however he was recovering quickly and in doing so, his began surveying the terrain, trying to discern where the attack had originated. Chris knew it would not take him long to make that determination. Bellison began shouting and although Chris could not hear exactly what was being said, he was certain it was an order to move the nitro before they lost any more of it.

Unfortunately, Vin was not about to let them happen and Chris shifted his gaze long enough to see the sharpshooter taking aim once again, his face intense with concentration as he readied his rifle to make the second shot. Chris closed his ears, having no wish to be deafened by the blast when the bullet was fired. Vin seemed to be oblivious to the noise since the bullet was travelling away from him, taking the sound with it. As he pulled back the trigger of the gun and fired again, the spent casing clattered to the ground next to him.

The second shot more or less told Bellison where the shooting was coming from and Chris could make out the former Sargent and Indian scout pointing towards them as he started running towards his horse, beckoning men to follow as they scurried away from the nitro. Those who were guarding the nitro were not prepared to remain by it after seeing what had happened to their comrades following the first shot. When the second struck home with just as much precision and the following detonation lashed out with such force that the custodians of the wagon that had been hit, whom had been fleeing at the same time was given no chance of escape. Chris watched in horrific fascination as their bodies were flung forward with such force that when they landed, he was certain that the ground had snapped their bones like kindling.

In the meantime, Bellison and a large group of his men had mounted their horses and were galloping towards them at top speed. It would take no more than a few minutes for them to reach the ridge and there was still three wagons left to destroy. Somehow, he and Ezra would have to hold them off and allow Vin to finish what he needed to get the job done.

"Vin," Chris said firmly as the tracker’s fingers were moving nimbly and with rapid speed as he reloaded his rifle to continue the sniper assault. "Whatever happens, keep shooting." The gunslinger ordered.

"I hear you pard." Vin nodded in understanding, pausing long enough to offer his best friend a look of acknowledgment, not merely to the instruction but to the necessity behind that order. "Good luck." He said quietly. "If not, I’ll see you both in hell." With that, he went back to his task and prepared to take aim again when he slid another projectile, with its smooth metal jacket into place and performed the lever action trigger that readied the bullet to fire.

Chris and Ezra kept their heads down and skimmed along the other side of the ridge, seeking the optimum firing position to defend themselves when Bellison and his men arrived. They found the most direct route leading up to the ridge and took position flanking the top of the passageway that allowed horses to traverse up the steep incline. Chris took refuge behind the rock just as he heard a third shot being fired, followed by the powerful boom of another rifle blast. He saw Bellison reacted to the shot, turning around long enough to see whether or not the bullet had struck home and swore when it did. The result of it meeting its target could not be masked when another wagon was laid to waste. Fragments of wood and fabric scattered across the plains, strewn amongst dead body and fiery embers of debris.

Chris saw Bellison’s expression harden with black hatred and knew that the man was going to take no prisoners when the day was done. This was only going to end with one of them dying.

"All right Ezra," Chris met the gambler’s gaze one last time before they faced the enemy. "Here they come."

Chris took aim and waited until the riders came into range of his weapon, unwilling to waste any bullets by firing prematurely simply because his adrenalin was up. Bellison and his men thundered across the ground, the furious pounding of hooves against the earth was starting to make the ground tremble. Behind them, the backdrop of the horizon started to take on the appearance of a battlefield, with bodies everywhere and fire burning black columns of smoke into the clear blue sky. Bellison could not see them yet but Chris was certain that the sergeant had a fair idea of who had perpetrated the destruction of their precious cargo.

The barrage of gunfire that came at them the moment Bellison and his men were close enough to fire was so fierce that it drove Chris and Ezra back behind the scab of rock as bullets impacted on its surface, sending sharp fragments in all directions. From his hiding place, Chris could see Vin pausing long enough to look at them with concern when he barked at the tracker to continue. "Keep shooting!"

Vin nodded and turned his attention back to the wagons as Chris aimed his guns at Bellison and started firing. The bullets that escaped his gun took down two of the large gathering advancing towards them. Bellison himself hardly batted at an eye at the death of his men and shouted at them over the sound of gunfire to keep going when suddenly another explosion roared through the air and brought their horses to a sudden stop from the violence of the noise. The animals reared up on their hind quarters, giving Chris and Ezra enough of an opening to sent a murderous hail of bullets at them.

Both lawmen were deadly shots and were aiming carefully instead of firing wildly as Bellison and his men were doing. The enemy had the ammunition to spare while Chris and Ezra did not and the lawmen made every bullet count. A host of bodies tumbled from their horses, causing more discourse with the animals made a desperate attempt to avoid trampling the humans as conditioning had forbade them. However, in their efforts to do, they collided with other horses still carrying their riders.

The destruction of the fourth and last wagon had effectively ended the threat of the nitro and with this task completed to utter satisfaction, Vin turned the rifle in his hands towards the men who were struggling to reach them. The others, who had been guarding the wagons and had wisely fled when the explosions had started, were now riding to meet up with Bellison to join his numbers in taking vengeance upon the lawmen that had shredded their plans for the railroad tracks. Without needing time to draw breath, Vin changed the direction of his aim and pulled back the lever action trigger of his rifle.

Ezra saw Bellison’s reinforcements falling into the dirt as they attempted to breach the distance between themselves and their leader. The gambler glanced over his shoulder long enough to see the tracker taking up the slack and felt some admiration for the man’s skill. The shots that destroyed the wagon were truly beautiful, if such violence could ever be labelled a thing of art which Ezra felt this was very close to being. He paused a moment and reloaded his gun, while Chris continued to fire at the horde that was less than two hundred yards away. There were at least six of them approaching, with Bellison leading the charge.

Ezra rolled back onto the rock, his chest pressing hard against the protection as he aimed and fired, using as much cool deliberation in shooting as he did when playing cards. He squeezed the trigger almost gently, mindful at the danger looming forward with each powerful stride of the horses galloping towards them. The shot took down the man at Bellison’s side and Chris maintained the barrage on his end, taking down the man at the far end. Bellison’s look of hatred started to wane slightly as he realised that his men was being cut down around him. However, his uncertainty had not asserted himself to a point where he had considered withdrawing.

One hundred yards. Ezra swallowed, seeing the four men starting to climb up the incline. Once they crossed the steep hill and were upon himself and Chris on horseback, there would be no place to hide. Chris and Ezra offered each other a quick glance in an unspoken agreement that Bellison could not be allowed to reach them. The time for the finesse of marksmanship was over. Now it was a straight out fire fight, brutal and swift. The two lawmen emerged and started shooting, creating of wall of bullets that allowed nothing to penetrate and more of Bellison’s men met their deaths, signalling their end by the unceremonious dislodgment from the saddle before the tumbled down the slope, taking dirt and rocks with them. Very soon, Bellison found himself the only one leading his charge and he realised half way through the journey upwards that he was alone.

"Sargent!" Chris shouted and rose to his feet, emerging from the rock and daring the man forward. "So much for the revolution!"

Ezra did not know what Chris was doing and decided that it was really unimportant for him to have that question answered because Bellison was alone and Chris was more than capable of handling himself. Instead, he turned his attention to the reinforcements that Vin working through steadily, using his rifle to deadly accuracy until only two or three men had manage to escape the barrage of sniper fire. Ezra turned his attention to them and took them out with as much efficiency as he and Chris had despatched the rest of their comrades a short time ago.

Bellison was still approaching. Chris knew he would after he had offered that derisive remark at the man. In a shot, actually one of two really, that Chris had waited the last sixteen years to make, he cocked his gun slowly and took aim. This was not just for two months of hell inside a military hospital, wondering if he would ever walk again. This was the kidnapping of his wife, for dragging her out of her house in the dead of night and frightening his son with the terror of possibly losing another parent. And this was also about the murder of a young woman who had been his lover, more importantly his friend. Maria had been his anchor when despair had threatened to claim him. Without her loving touch and soft voice in the night to tell him there was things that were worth living for, he might not have ever told Mary how he felt and everything since then might never have been. When Bellison had taken Maria’s life, he had sealed his own doom and erased any doubt in Chris’ mind that he would survive their final meeting.

Bellison did not falter in his progress, perhaps believing the same thing as he prepared to kill the man that had seen him languishing inside the confines of a hellish military prison for so many years and also readied himself to shoot. However, of the two, it was Chris who did not flinch while the closer Bellison approached, the more uncertain he became that he might not be able to accomplish what he intended. Unfortunately, by the time he came to that realisation and felt his resolve falter, he had reached the top of the incline and the end of his opportunity to escape.

Chris pulled the trigger and fired only one shot.

One shot was all that was required really. The bullet slammed into the centre of Bellison’s forehead, exiting through the back of his head and erupting his scalp in large gruesome fragments of meat as the life drained from the man’s eyes. He seemed mostly surprised as everything that he was splattered across the back of his horse and on the ground before the animal reared up in fear of the death it could scent heavily in its nostrils and panicked. It threw Bellison’s body out of the saddle and the corpse rolled down the slope a ways before coming to a stop.

Chris watched his body come to a halt dispassionately, feeling no remorse or satisfaction, just the partial closure that would only reach completion when Julius joined Bellison in that same grisly pose. The gunslinger regarded the dead man for a moment before he whispered softly under his breath.

"For you Maria."

**********

Until the lawmen and the rail boss actually began the process of evacuation, none had realised just how monumental a task was set before them. Language difficulties aside, most of the families had not been happy to be pulled apart even for a day and for reasons of safety. Most were willing to brave the danger that was coming just to keep their families intact. Josiah could well understand why this was. Most of the Chinese workers had nothing else to bind them to this world except the families that they had brought with them from the orient. To lose that was to be completely alone and like so many people, oriental or not, that was a difficult thing to bear.

Fortunately, Josiah enlisted the aid of Wo Chin who in the past year and a half had metamorphosed from an angry youth mourning his father to a young man discovering his own identity in the new world. Along with the family friend who had assumed responsibility of the young man since his father’s death, Chong Soon and Wo Chin had acted as translators, attempting to convey to the workers what would be the deadly consequences if they did not make haste and depart. Josiah felt a little like Moses heralding the Israelites out of Egypt as he saw families gathering everything they had into small parcels, bound by cloth as the wagons were readied to ferry them away.

Mostly and women and children went first, with a good many able bodied men remaining behind and offering to take up the task of defence. While Josiah and JD took charge of the evacuation, Buck and the railway company’s powder man, an elderly gentleman named Horton, prepared to surround the camp with explosive mines to give Julius’ Citadel a surprise when they made their arrival the next day. Horton who had been in the business for so long that he probably started when Buck was in diapers, had been adding some refinement to the lawman’s skill. While Buck knew how to set up dynamite and detonators, the others knew he was not all that much of an expert and could appreciate why he was so eager when Horton offered to teach him the tricks of the trade.

In the meantime, Nathan was preparing for the wounded that would inevitably follow any gunfight, especially the one with the scale they would be facing the next day. The healer had wished that he could have summoned Alexandra Styles but knew that Vin Tanner would not appreciate his future wife involved in this action. Thus he enlisted the aid of the local healer, Doctor Soong whom apart from having unsuccessful love potions, did know something about treating more physical wounds like the ones they were expecting tomorrow. With the Doctor’s aid, the two men had established something of a first aid station in one of the shanty’s that was some distance away from the fighting.

The general was just as busy, coordinating with McPhee and the rest of his men, where to position themselves when the attack came and what area was defensible and was needed to mined with obstacles where men could not successfully keep the invaders out. Everyone was in agreement that with the absence of Chris Larabee, it was quite comforting to have his formidable father around, directing things. Josiah could see where Chris had acquired his own leadership skills even though his conversations with Larabee indicated that Chris had no taste for soldiering. Josiah supposed that being able to do something and wanting to do it were two different things.

Josiah and JD escorted the wagons far away from the camp, to piece of land that was well hidden and not frequented by most because its position had it far from the main settlements in the area. As a temporary refuge, it was rather Spartan and had a small creek not too far from it that would serve as a source of water until it was safe for them to return to the camp. Fortunately, a lengthy stay was not anticipated. One way or another, the next day would decide that with no room for doubt. The caravans of women and children continued most of the day as the lawmen moved everyone who was in danger or unable to defend themselves into the temporary refuge.

By evening, Buck and Horton had set up the defensive perimeter and Wo Chin had aided with the construction of fortifications not unlike those they had built when they were defending the Seminole village and more recently, Four Corners, during its siege. No one was certain how much effect this would have on Julius’ men but any advantage was welcomed. Buck and Nathan then began the task of distributing any spare guns there were kept in the weapons cache railway office among the men who had volunteered to fight with them. Most had limited awareness of guns and such and a few hours was expended familiarising them with the use of the weapons for them to be effective against Julius’ men when the attack came.

The preparations continued into the night until finally, all that could be done had been undertaken. With nightfall there was little to be done until morning. Sentries were posted in strategic locations around the perimeter to ensure that Julius did not catch them unawares by launching premature attack in the middle of the night. The mood was tense. When the last of the preparations had concluded, the seven gathered around a campfire Josiah had made, trying not to notice the silence that moved through the place in the wake of the evacuation. Although there were still a large number of people in the camp, it was still a pale shadow of what it had been when they had first arrived that morning.

As twilight descended over them, the lawmen took supper of whatever the camp cook had prepared, trying not to think about the odds that they would be facing tomorrow, or how their other comrades were faring on their part of the plan.

"How do you think they’re doing?" JD asked as he wolfed down the food before him, displaying his youth in his voracious appetite while the others picked at their meal.

"Probably on their way back now." Buck said confidently, always the internal optimistic and being especially so on this occasion because Chris’ father was present. Although the general had remained mostly silent during the meal and remained impassive, it was not hard to see that in his silence, his thoughts were with his son.

In some ways, Buck envied Chris having a father to worry about him when most of their number was lacking in that privilege. He had no idea who his father did and sometimes wondered if his mother had any idea herself. Almost nothing was known about Ezra’s father except that he existed enough to provide Maude Standish with his name and a son, while Vin did not even know that much, uncertain whether or not the name Tanner was from the paternal or maternal side of his family. From what Buck knew of JD’s life before he came here, the youth had only vague memories of his father and was mostly raised by his mother. Nathan’s own father had retired to the Seminole village since his arrival in Four Corners and the healer occasionally went to visit the old men there, since he preferred a place where the world could forget him. Meanwhile from all descriptions, Josiah’s relationship with his father was antagonistic to say the least.

"I think we got a good chance of giving those Citadel boys something to remember." Nathan remarked, pleased with the progress they had made today and especially so because they had managed the feat of moving the women and children out of the camp to a place of safety.

The general seemed to agree. "We need to take Julius," he said in his gravelly voice, joining in the conversation for the first time. "If we can take him, the rest of them will be disorganised."

"That’s true," Josiah nodded. "From what Ezra told us, it seemed that Julius kept control to himself and Bellison."

"Chances are that’s who Chris ran into." Buck replied. "Blowing up the rail way tracks is an important job, he wouldn’t trust that to any one than the good ol’ sarge." He snorted, not hiding his dislike.

"Yeah," Nathan agreed. "They do seemed joined at the hip." The healer pointed out, recalling what Buck had told them about the man previously.

"He’s a sycophant." Larabee said shortly. "He’ll follow his master like a dog."

"Not any more." The younger version of that same voice responded breaking the pause that had followed.

"Chris!" JD said euphonically as he saw the gunslinger entered the amber light of their campfire. The others immediately rose to their feet and offered similar welcomes to the three weary travellers who had ridden and fast after their confrontation with Bellison so that they could return to the railway camp and stand with their friends when the attack came the next day. The general did not show his joy as exuberantly as Buck and JD, merely giving his son a slight nod before the entire group sat in front of the fire once again, allowing the heat to warm their bones as they caught up with each other over the day’s events.

"So I am assuming Bellison is no longer a problem." Larabee asked as he waited for Chris to down his cup of coffee as Buck volunteered to go get them some food.

"Neither the nitro or Mr Bellison will be causing us any further difficulty by their continued existence." Ezra drawled as he rested his back against his bed roll and took pleasure in being able just relax for a short time until the next crisis came along which in this instance, would be at dawn.

"That nitro is all gone?" Nathan inquired.

"Yeah," Vin nodded. "Every last wagon." The tracker confirmed, feeling no need to go into detail how the shots that had ended their threat had almost been perfect. He was rather satisfied that he had managed to accomplish the task without endangering his companions with the inconvenience of a misfire.

"Nobody got away alive to warn Julius." Chris added. "We saw to it." He did not need to clarify what those measures entailed

"So they’re still coming." Buck sighed, not relishing the fight, especially when they were expecting large casualty numbers with the workers who had volunteered to stay and fight at their side being so green.

"Julius has a point to make," Ezra said with a hint of bitterness in his voice that was not lost upon the others and secretly, they wondered what on earth had transpired between Julius and Ezra to warrant so much personal dislike from the gambler. "He will do so sacrificing all his men if necessary just so that us peons know that the right hand of god had spoken."

"He actually say that?" JD gasped, somewhat horrified by the description and the motivation behind such callousness, not to mention his delusions of grandeur.

"It’s a step up from military genius." Chris remarked.

"Well," Larabee said with a loud sigh. "Tomorrow, we’ll find out how right he is about that."

************

Time.

There had seemed a lot of it in the darkness. The moon above them had illuminated much of the night and followed through hours until dawn finally arrived. No one could sleep really, even though they were all exhausted from the day’s preparation, hoping everything that done in readiness for the attack the next day would be enough. Eventually some of the seven drifted off into slumber but their dreams were uneasy and sporadic and eventually, they found themselves awake and awaited the morning together.

In the light of dawn, there was no signs of the previous night’s anxieties, just the grim determination by the seven to survive the day and keep the people around them in a similar state of health. Even though the women and children had been evacuated, their husbands, their father and their brothers, were still here and though ready to fight were not warriors by nature. Despite proving they had the heart needed to defend themselves against Julius’ fanatics.

It had not been that long since Chris Larabee had been apart a battle like this. When Selina Quint had led Mexican bandits to lay waste to the town of Four Corners in order to clear the land for the likes of Guy Royal and Stuart James, Chris had been forced to plan the strategy that allowed the town to prevail against that threat. This situation was not much different than that terrible affair although this engagement worried Chris a great deal more. With the exception of the men working for McPhee and the rest of the seven, very few of those called on to defend the settlement had any established weapons training.

The majority were simple Chinese workers, who in most likely hood had never even seen a gun let alone acquire enough skill in 24 hours to defend themselves with any real capability. What was worse, the men who made up the bulk of Julius’ Citadel were men who followed a cause for which they were prepared to die for. As Ezra had told them, Julius had seen to it that the men who followed him were trained to kill. The man had wanted an army that would become a singular force of terror that would shake the foundations of the government and strike fear into the hearts of people by the very mention of their name. Julius kept them mean and hungry so they'd always have an edge and it was edge that gave Chris reason for concern. Still when it was all said and done, there was no use worrying about things he could not change. They had asked for leadership and the seven had given had given it. He had to believe that was enough.

The seven had been dispersed around the length and breadth of the camp in preparation for the attack. Chris and his father were situated in the most obvious place where Julius would select to penetrate the camp when he eventually arrived. Buck and Horton had mined the area intensively, intending on killing as many of the enemy when they made their initial charge. Having established a minefield of sorts strategically around the camp, the big man had gone to oversee the detonations, while Vin had been assigned to utilise some of McPhee’s men as snipers. After what had happened with the nitro, Chris could safely say that sniper fire could be an extremely effective weapon in the right hands and as far as he was concerned, those hands could not be more capable than Vin Tanner’s

He paced up and down space where Ezra was poised over one of the detonators with a slew of McPhee’s men who were awaiting for the invaders with their guns. Larabee watched his son walking back and forth and knew that Chris was working himself into an ever-tightening knot of tension that was ill advised at this time.

"Relax." He ordered.

"I can’t." Chris frowned and continued pacing. They had set up a defensive perimeter and the men stationed along the precarious border seemed to grow more impatient by the waiting game that had started the moment the sun had risen this morning. Chris wished Ezra’s intelligence was more specific, he hated waiting for the moment as much as they did and wanted it over and done with.

"You’re making me nervous, knock it off." His father said with just enough edge in his voice to demand obedience.

"You know I’m not a kid any more." Chris pointed, unaware that Ezra was finding great amusement in the observation of this exchange between a father and son whose disposition was so similar it was like watching two great rocks slamming into each other, it was just a question of odds who would crumble first. If Ezra were actually fool enough to lay such a bet, he would put the odds on the senior Larabee prevailing.

"I noticed." Larabee remarked. "If you were, I’d smack you around and before I gave you that piece advice. You’re working yourself up and making your men nervous."

"I am not." Chris retorted and turned to Ezra. "Am I?"

"Mr Larabee, there is not enough money in this world to make me answer that question." Ezra said with a dimpled smile. "I am afraid you boys will have to settle this matter on your own."

"Coward." He retorted.

"That’s not a nice to say to the man," Larabee said sternly. "Apologise to Mr Standish."

Chris opened his mouth to say what he thought about that when suddenly, the loud whine of a bugle from the lookouts who had been stationed at the highest points they had been able to find, delivered irrefutable proof of the inevitable news of trouble with its braying. The loud penetrating sound moved through the group of men stationed at this beachhead like a ripple through water and immediately, everyone raised their guns and readied himself to begin shooting at a moment’s notice.

Before he could question the specific of what their sentries had seen, the silence was shattered by a new sound. Around him, his father and Ezra had yet to pick it up, only Vin could have such acute hearing and he was up on that ridge with a dozen men who were readying themselves for their part of the fighting. Everyone else was still oblivious to it which was hardly surprising since Chris had trained himself to detect such things.

"I hear gun fire." Chris spoke up.

Immediately Larabee stood and listened closely. "I hear it." He said after a moment. "They’re trying to take down the lookouts."

"Are you sure?" Ezra asked staring into the line of the horizon trying to focus on the sound. "I don't hear anything."

"Wait for it." Chris responded coolly.

The gunfire approached like a whisper, carried on the waves of a rolling breeze. It tickled the ears as it started to rise in momentum. Very soon, they were all hearing it.

"Hold position!" Larabee ordered the men who were at the perimeter, looking as if they might run, now that the sound of many riders was approaching. His voice seemed to jar them back to their senses and he hoped that would be enough. They had mined this area because it was the more vulnerable to attack and because Julius was not fool enough to forgo the golden opportunity of exploiting such a tactical advantage.

"Here they come." Chris said the second time in as many days.

It was difficult to see how many of them were coming because when they peaked the crest of the horizon, Chris could only see an endless line of horses, thundering towards them, dragging hell with them as the crossed the battlefield and closed in on the prey. He could not see Julius and Chris was uncertain if the man was even here since he rarely led the charge personally in the battles during the war. No doubt, Julius was where it was safe, offering his men up as cannon fodder for his bloody victor.

As Chris took a deep breath and tried not to feel apprehension at the enemy forces closing in on them, he hoped the men who were standing with him had the same resolve. Even Ezra’s facade of calm deliberation had faded somewhat and there was just enough dark in the gambler’s eyes for Chris to see he slightly afraid. His father, remained impassive but then the general had seen much worse in his time and Chris had to admit that there was enough of his father’ s blood in him to keep his own fear at bay as well. Still, the enemy was impressive as they thundered forward, appearing well armed and ready to battle to the death as they raised their guns and prepared to kill in the name of their cause.

"Lord." Ezra found himself saying as he saw the full might of the Citadel bearing down on him and his friends.

"Don’t let them spook you," Chris said coolly, his eyes fixed on the enemy as they closed in. He did not see superior numbers or the possibility of death. He saw only that after sixteen years, he and Hannibal Julius were going to have their moment of reckoning.

"I will try but unlike you, I left my iron stomach in my other suit." Ezra said sarcastically.

"Well think of this way," the general remarked. "They can kill you only once."

"Now why didn’t I think of that?" The gambler rolled his eyes. "I used to be such an optimistic soul."

Chris did not respond, instead he looked at Ezra and soon calmly. "Get ready."

Ezra nodded quietly, all business now as the riders started to approach the kill zone where the mines were waiting for them. Resting his hands on the handle that would set off the charges when he depressed it, Ezra kept his eye trained on either of the Larabee’s awaiting them to give the signal. He glanced long enough at the men behind him to see that they were waiting with similar anticipation for Chris to give the signal and Ezra prayed that Buck Wilmington’s lesson under the tutelage of Mister Horton had improved his skill as a powder man.

Or this was going to be much of a defence.

Chris did not pay much attention to Ezra, focussed instead on the men approaching and undoing the flap of his holster so that his gun would be easily retrieved when the hurricane of riders and guns finally rolled on top of them. His eyes skimmed over the faces of the men who were stationed there with him and he could see their fear in their eyes. Good, he thought to himself. A little bit of healthy fear was a good thing. It might just make them take that extra bit of care to stay alive when the shooting started and the real fighting began.

He could see the faces of the men who were coming to kill them and knew that this was the time. He glanced at Ezra and immediately issued the order the southerner had been awaiting.

"Now!" He barked unaware that he had shouted until the sound escaped him.

The roar of the explosion seemed to fill the air as the earth trembled from the mortal wound delivered upon it. Geysers of heat and earth blasted forth from the ground, knocking men off their horses, killing mount and rider in some instances, as bodies began falling like the debris that was scattering throughout the minefield that had been prepared for them. As expected, the charge scattered in disarray as the riders attempted to gain some equilibrium in the face of the violent eruptions. The formidable line of invaders had become an ant colony after someone had smashed a rock through it.

However, their numbers were too many to call this action a victory just yet and while the invaders in this tiny theatre of the war was suffering their first defeat of the day, Larabee instructed the men with him into the next phase of their battle. "Rifles!" He ordered.

Guns were simultaneously raised across the defensive perimeter. Even Chris and Ezra had now unsheathed their guns and were ready to take advantage of the confusion that had been caused by the minefield. It was not going to last indefinitely and to make it work, they had to act fast.

"Cut them down!" Larabee ordered.

Gunfire erupted simultaneously, creating a concussion of sound so loud that it was almost painful to hear it. The riders who had been reeling from the minefield were not assaulted by what appeared to be a wall of bullets from guns with varying degrees lethal power. Some managed to escape the torrent of projectiles but most were cut down as they tried to close the distance between their prey and themselves, stupefied in some respects by the formidable defence they were encountering. There was no break in the firing, the rotation of gunfire had been prepared before this so that there would be no pause while someone paused to reload to order to shoot again. While Chris paused to refill the empty chamber of his gun and discard his spend cartridges, Ezra took up the slack and so it continued like this for what seemed an eternity, even though only minutes had passed by.

The space before the line they were defending was now covered in bloodied corpses and those who still lived were starting to reconsider the notion of dying for a cause when so many around them had paid the price already. Their horses were becoming more panicked with the continued onslaught of ammunition. They were rearing up on their hind quarters, toppling their master and spinning further and further into the chaos as they attempted to evade the gunfire fire that seemed to be coming from all around. It was hard to say who was more distraught of the two, master or beast but in the end, the dying was the great equaliser.

Chris had been hoping that this might happen and when he saw the some of the riders turning tail and running, he felt a flood of relief wash through him. Exchanging glances at Ezra and the general who was sharing his understated elation, he let a small smile curl at the corner of his lips when a slight ripple of cheers broke out amongst the men who were fighting with them. Still the victory at their front was only of many that had to be won and the war was by no means over.

*********

Across the camp, Vin Tanner and the men who were assigned the task of providing sniper support were laying waste to the enemy attempting to breach the perimeter through the gully that ran along the northern border. As they stationed themselves along the peak and stared down at the advancing force, Vin loaded his gun again and continued firing into the thickest part of the riders trying to breach their defences. The general had stated the night before that Julius was of the belief that surprise and large numbers would take the place of military strategy. With the fortifications installed by the railway workers doing their worst, it was obvious that it was going to be a fatal mistake for the would be demi-god.

Obviously, Julius had counted heavily on the element of surprise because no self respecting commander with an ounce of sense would send his men into some a vulnerable position with high walls on either side and only one visible means of escape. They would have to traverse the length of the gully in order to reach the camp and with snipers established on either side, they were effectively penned in. Vin remained dispassionate about the men he was sending to their deaths each time he pulled the trigger and pinned his target, since, it was Julius who was far more responsible that he. As the barrage of bullets continued to rain down on the helpless soldiers of the Citadel cause, bodies began to cover the ground in a carpet of flesh. Horses bolted away from the scene of the carnage, their animal senses detecting the scent much too prolifically for them to fight their natural instinct to flee.

Vin saw the remaining riders below them starting to panic, barking orders amongst themselves as they attempted to salvage the situation but the dead around them was making it difficult to adhere to reasonable thinking with any effectiveness. If this was to be ended without further blood shed, the sharpshooter decided he had to act now.

"Hold you fire!" He shouted to the rest of his companions, consisting of McPhee’s men and the workers on the railway who had prior rifle expertise. Slowly, the discharge of gunfire came to a slow halt and the enemy below looked up in question at the sudden cessation.

"You men down there got a choice on how you want this to end," Vin said loudly to them, hoping they would take the offer and walk away. "You can drop your guns and go or we can keep firing until you’re just pile a corpses like your friends down there."

"How do we know you ain’t gonna shoot us once our back is turned?" One of them retaliated.

"You don’t." Vin retorted, wanting there to be no mistake on this. "It doesn’t matter one way or another whether you give it or not. We’ll cut you down before you even get to the camp, let alone make it out of this gully alive. It don’t matter any to us how you leave here, dead or alive, just as long you leave."

Vin held his breath as he waited for their answer although to look at him, one could not hardly see that there was anticipation in his eyes. The sharpshooter wore the same unflappable expression as always, hiding how he felt beneath a well practised mask of indifference. He could see the riders arguing their decision amongst themselves, raised voice and frightened ones blending in a mix of debate until finally, an answer emerged from the mire of choice.

It came in the form of a gun being dropped to the ground, followed by another and another after that, until the dirt beneath disappeared under a cache of weaponry that ranged from small derringers to long barrelled rifles like the one he carried himself.

"This ain’t over!" One of the men yelled as they prepared to leave the gully, the sour taste of defeat in their mouths was evident by the anger in their faces. "The Citadel takes care of its enemies, not today or tomorrow, but we’ll be coming for ya!"

Vin’s voice was ice cold when he spoke. "Get going." He said, pulling the lever action trigger of his rifle just to make his point.

The man who had spoken glared at the tracker before digging his heels into his horse and gestured to what remained of his comrades to follow. A dark storm cloud followed them as they rode away and Vin felt a slight chill run through his spine as he saw them disappear into the distance because he believed them.

The Citadel was not done with them, not by a long shot.

************

Similar engagements continued throughout the next few hours with some breaches being made when some of the invaders broke into the camp. With the combined efforts of the seven, McPhee’s men and the Chinese railroad workers to repel them, Julius’ men were soon killed or fleeing. It became apparent that Julius had established his entire campaign on taking the camp by surprise, believing that Ezra had only learnt about the destruction of the railway tracks and not about the massacre he had planned to carry out. While there was death on all sides, JD had taken a bullet to the shoulder, Josiah’s had been hit in the leg and the seven had suffered a slew of other minor abrasions and lacerations from close quarters fighting in one form or another. However, at the end of the day, it was the invaders who suffered the worst of the combat.

By nightfall, the battle was more or less ended with their efforts directed towards the cleaning up of those who had fallen and the destruction that had taken place during the day. The camp had suffered much but as McPhee pointed out, nothing destroyed could not be replaced. The dead that remained in the wake of the battle more rightly distressed the rail boss and one of the more despised jobs of the evening was the gathering of the dead in preparation of burial. Nathan remained in his medical tent with the doctor he had enlisted for his cause and spent most of his time tending to injuries on either side. The rest of the seven took the task of rounding up the last of Julius’ men who had not been killed, merely captured.

There was no sign of Julius himself.

Chris had been right when he assumed that Julius would not take active part in the engagement. He supposed demi-gods did not wallow in the trenches with the rest of their men. Of course, it was possible that he had been killed in the fighting over the course of the day. Unfortunately, there was so many bodies to deal with that it would take some time to make that determination and Chris was not holding his breath at finding the man among the dead. Julius was most likely back in the Barrens, waiting for his men to return with news of victory and Chris smiled with a certain amount of satisfaction knowing that the defeat would sting more than any revenge he could deliver upon this former captain.

There was much cleaning up to do in the wake of the battle and the decision to return to Four Corners with the prisoners was postponed until the morning because most of the seven were too exhausted after the past two days to make the trip. They needed to recoup their strength and allow injuries sustained, time to heal at least for the evening. No one argued with Chris when he made that suggestion and were grateful to their leader for the consideration. Although they would be taking turns guarding the prisoners throughout the course of the night, no one was eager to get going anywhere.

After the past three days, Ezra Standish had come to the firm conclusion that he needed a drink.

The gambler made his way to where the horses were kept in order to retrieve a metal flask he kept in Chaucer’s saddle for emergency use. Unlike the swill enjoyed by most of his comrades, Ezra was in the mood for something finer and decided that surviving the day had definitely earned him some smooth malt whisky. The gambler made his way across the camp, feeling a pang of remorse as he saw the bodies of Chinese workers under sheets, tended to by their stoic country men and wished it had not come to this. He thought of Li Pong and was glad he had sent her to San Francisco because he would not have been impressed if she had been present during this situation.

Of course, if Li Pong was still here, a lot of things would be different.

Strange how coming back here had brought the memory of her back to his mind when he had hardly given her a second thought in almost a year and a half. He supposed with Julia in his life there was little reason to do that and Li Pong was happy with her family for him to feel any regrets about what she could have meant to him and his life had she remained in Four Corners. Upon leaving the noises of the camp when he neared the outskirts where the horses were corralled, he looked up at the sky to marvel at the beauty of the stars overhead. It was hard to believe that things could be so peaceful now when just hours ago, this had been nothing less than a battlefield.

Ezra sighted Chaucer amongst the other horses and immediately hastened his pace to reach his trusted companion. The animal nickered upon seeing him, recognising its master and taking a step forward to greet the human who stroked its lengthy nose on arrival. "Hello old friend," Ezra spoke out loud, soothing the animal with his smooth and refine voice. "Its been quite a day, has it not?"

Chaucer seemed to agree, nuzzling into his pocket, in search of sugar or some other treat that Ezra often brought it when the gambler return to his horse.

"Sorry," Ezra apologised as he pulled away and went to his saddle. "Nothing today but I promise you a feast when we return to Four Corners in the morning."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, something struck at his knee, buckling his legs from under him and driving him straight into the ground immediately. He let out a soft grunt of pain as he felt the digging of sharp rocks and grit into his flesh when his knees hit the dirt on the ground. Chaucer neighed in disapproval and backed away, causing discourse among the other horses who had to move in order to accommodate the sudden shift. Ezra went for his gun but never got the chance to reach it. Before he could even graze the butt of the weapon with his fingers, he felt the sharp blade of a knife pressing into his neck. Freezing immediately, he swallowed as he felt a hand holding his head poised over the knife he could not see but definitely felt.

"Mister Standish." The voice said coolly and Ezra knew immediately that it was Julius.

"Mr Julius." Ezra said confidently, trying to hide his fear and responded in the same voice he used whenever he was about to put down a straight flush and takes someone’s money. To show fear was to give Julius more power over him that he already had since their last encounter and Ezra was not going to do that again.

"I trusted you." His gloved hand moved over Ezra’s cheek and caressed it, making Ezra stiffen with revulsion at the man’s gentle touch. He lowered his lips to Ezra’s ears and whispered softly with the same seductive tone. "I could have given you the world and everything that you have ever wanted but you chose to betray me. I can only believe that you did not fully understand what you were being offered, so I make it again."

"You have nothing that I want." Ezra said firmly and pulled his head away, daring to risk being cut if it meant giving Julius a clear indication of where his loyalties remained as well as his sexuality for that matter.

"I do not believe that is true," Julius continued, unperturbed by Ezra’s intense words of refusal. "I believe that there is apart of you who knows better, that has different ideas about what it wants. I trusted that part of you and you betrayed me and destroyed my plans to strike a blow towards the regime that has enslaved us all. I have to assume that you are misguided."

"I am hardly misguided Julius," Ezra snapped, feeling the knife breaking skin. "I just do not believe a damn thing you say! Your campaign is in tatters and you have as much chance of conquering the world with your genius as I do of ever responding to your advances! So if you are done with your attempt to sway me, I suggest you either kill me now and be done with it or else scamper back under the rock from which you emerged. Either way, you are boring me with your diatribe."

Julius offered a short laugh of amusement. "You wound me Ezra," he said with a smile that Ezra could not see but was certain he was displaying. "This campaign is one of many and what you discovered in the Barrens is only one of my enclaves. I have such places scattered throughout this country and the loss of life today is merely a temporary setback. You and the lieutenant have inconvenienced me, nothing more. As for killing you?" Julius paused a moment as his lips brushed against Ezra's cheek, daring the gambler to move.

"Get your hands off me!" Ezra exploded but could not offer much resistance when Julius reminded him of the situation when the blade bit into his skin and he felt warm blood oozing from a slight cut that was enough to sting but not to kill him.

"I have no intention of killing you Ezra," Julius continued smoothly after he had put down Ezra’s effort to break free. "I do intend however on having you one way or another. I would have preferred you come to me of your own will but rest assured that we are far from done. You may tell your master that for this encounter, the day is his but I swear to you Ezra, you and I will meet again and the next time, you will be mine."

With that he planted a firm kiss on the gambler’s cheek and released him. Ezra went for his gun and spun around ready to shoot the bastard dead but Julius was gone, disappearing into the night like a mist. Ezra searched the shadows to catch sight of the man in his retreat but there was nothing to see but dark looming shadows that seemed more prolific in the light of Julius’ brief appearance.

Ezra took a deep breath and was grateful that no one was present because he would not have like to have been seen so shaken and he was shaken. Something about the threat that the man had made suddenly told Ezra that Julius no longer considered Chris his hated enemy. He had not killed the gambler this time because he had some terrible revenge planned after he had taken sufficient time to lick his wounds and address his losses. Ezra wiped the blood from his neck where the blade had cut and knew the wound was minor but the warning Julius had made was not.

Ezra had a feeling that if he were to fall into Julius’ power again, he would not come away so unscathed.

TO BE CONTINUED