The Last Pilgrims (43 page)

Jonathan and Timothy were not there. The
area was searched and their bodies could not be found anywhere in
the vicinity. Troy explained that this was good news. “They
wouldn’t have wasted time on their bodies if they were dead, Ruth.”
Perhaps
. Maybe that was true of Timothy—that thought gave
her hope for him—but they would certainly have taken her father’s
body, dead or alive. Parading a dead Jonathan Wall through the
streets of New Rome would have a sobering effect on anyone
harboring thoughts of insurrection. She steeled herself.
Timothy
is alive…
at least he was when the battle was over. Maybe her
father was still alive too.

She knew that she should grieve over them
and let it be done, and that keeping hope alive was probably not in
her best interests. It would be painful to hold on to hope, and
then have to grieve all over again if it turned out that both of
the men were dead. She could not help herself, though. Timothy was
alive, and she had to hope that her father was worth more to Aztlan
alive than dead. Nobody wanted a martyr.

Piggy grasped her firmly by the shoulders.
“No one can tell you how to feel, Ruth. Death is a reality in war.
I can’t tell you to grieve, or to wait, or to forget. I need to
tell you though, that both your father and Timothy had
purpose
. They both wanted to live in peace, and to be good
and honest men. They both made choices that brought them to this
place. Your father taught that God was sovereign, and that all
things come to be according to the divine decree of God. I respect
that, and I agree with it. Whatever you feel, you must bow to the
knowledge that this is God’s will. Since we know that God is good
and right, we must acquiesce to His decision. However you feel,
that is what you must do.”

They all stood in silence, and they began to
notice the buzzing of flies called forth to the bounty of so many
bodies. Ruth lifted her head and nodded at Piggy. “We should bury
Marbus and Rob.”

“We will, Ruth. Why don’t you go find some
shade and maybe pray for the safety of Timothy and your
father?”

“I want to help bury them.”

“As you wish. Then let’s do that,” Piggy
said, and for the second time in just a few days, they found
themselves digging graves in the desert.

Several hours later they approached the
vicinity of Harmony. A great battle had evidently been fought
there—this they could see—and a cloud of dust still hung heavily in
the air. The bodies that littered the ground were coated with
fallen debris, and, just as in the earlier battle, the flies here
had been summoned to the corpses that lay strewn around the area.
As they rode silently, Piggy signaled loudly to the militia, and
the party entered the battlefield unmolested. Miltiamen, both
Vallensian and otherwise, busily dug out and reinforced an
extensive trench system on the northwest side of the battlefield.
Ruth saw a group on horseback and recognized Enos Flynn, Pachuco
Reyes, and Tyrell of Terrell. Piggy signaled to them and the three
rode over and joined them.

“Hello Piggy,” Pachuco said with a slight
bow of his head. “As you can see, part
one
of the great
battle is over. The armies from El Paso and Louisiana have been
utterly destroyed, but Phillip believes a larger force is headed
this way from New Rome. We’re digging in. There are too many of us
to move fast, so we’re going to have to fight here.”

Piggy smiled, “So Phillip lives! This is
excellent news!” The smile didn’t last long, and his features
quickly regained their reflection of the seriousness of the moment.
“Our greetings, brothers,” he said. “Yes, we believe that Phillip
is correct. Aztlan is on the way. We had a skirmish with a scout
team from that army not three hours ago,” he stopped and removed
his hat. “I hate to be the one to report that Rob Fosse and Marbus
Claim were killed. Young Timothy and Jonathan Wall were
captured.”

“Jonathan Wall? Captured? I thought they
already had Mr. Wall,” Enos said, then, noticing Ruth, he took off
his cap as well. “My apologies about your father, Ruth.” Ruth
nodded almost imperceptibly.

“We have a pretty long report for Phillip,
Pachuco, and I’d really rather not tell the whole story a dozen
times. Where can we find him?”

“The command tent is behind that low mesa,”
Pachuco replied, pointing to the southeast. “Our enemy doesn’t know
that Phillip and Prince Gareth are alive. We would like to keep it
that way.”

“Gareth lives too? That is excellent news,”
Piggy replied. Looking around, Ruth perceived the emotion and
tightness that had instantaneously passed over the faces of the
three militia men. “And David Wall?” Piggy asked.

Pachuco looked at Ruth and remained silent,
and for a moment it seemed that all of the air was sucked out of
the area, before Longbow interrupted with a reply. “Miss Wall…
we’re so sorry… your brother David…”

“…
was killed,” Ruth said,
finishing the sentence.

“Yes, ma’am,” Longbow replied while lowering
his eyes.

“Was it Rollo?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Did my brother suffer?”

“No ma’am. He died instantly.”

“Has he been buried?”

“Yes, ma’am. There was a full Vallensian
funeral just days ago. Your sister saw to it that everything was
handled.”

Ruth paused and looked out over the
preparations that were being made for another, larger battle. “We
won’t keep you if you need to prepare. I thank you for the news and
for your prayers and assistance to my family. We need to go report
to Phillip. You are welcome to accompany us if you wish.”

“We will,” said Pachuco, and after another
heavy and quiet moment, the party rode silently out towards the
command center of the militia.

She didn’t talk while Phillip and Piggy
briefed one another on all of the recent happenings. Phillip was
obviously saddened by the news of the deaths of Rob Fosse—his best
friend and second in command—and the young militia fighter Marbus
Claim. In like manner, Phillip seemed particularly distraught when
he had to tell Ruth about the death of her brother. The heaviness
of the moment was only interrupted when Piggy reported to Phillip
that Jonathan Wall had been seized by Rollo and the Aztlani
army.

“Oh no, Piggy,” was all Phillip could
say.

“I know, sir,” Piggy replied.

“No… Piggy… I don’t think that you do know.
Jonathan in the hands of New Rome is a disaster for us.” Phillip
looked at Ruth, apologetically. “Perhaps you ought not to be here,
Ruth.”

“I will stay,” she replied forcefully,
“speak freely.”

Piggy raised his hands in order to indicate
that he wanted Phillip to listen. “Phillip, I had a split second to
decide to try to save Jonathan… which was my duty… or Ruth.
Jonathan was down on the field, either dead or seriously injured,
and I could not tell if he was dead or alive. So I chose to try to
save Ruth. It was a split-second decision, and I did what I thought
was right.”

Phillip walked a few paces away, then took a
deep breath and turned back to Piggy. “No. Piggy. You did the right
thing. If you had tried to save Jonathan, we might have lost both
of them… and you as well. You did the right thing. I apologize for
second guessing you. I wasn’t there. You were, and you did the
right thing.”

“Thank you, Phillip.”

The group stood in silence for a long moment
before Phillip finally spoke. “New Rome is coming. Probably close
to 25,000 men are only miles away. We can’t run. We’ve always been
able to flee, but we have almost 7,000 men now, and we’re not as
spry as we once were. We’re digging in.”

“This isn’t good, Phillip,” Piggy said,
looking at his leader with his head cocked to one side.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Do you have any tricks in your bag?”

“I have some cheap parlor tricks, but
nothing that will sufficiently help us here. They think that Gareth
and I are dead. We’ve got that. That might surprise them for a
moment, but it won’t last. We’re going to have to fight them the
old-fashioned way.”

“We don’t like that way,” Piggy said. “That
is
not
Piggy’s Way!”

“Well if you come up with something, you let
me know, Piggy,” Phillip replied.

“Each of us will just have to kill four of
them,” Ruth interrupted seriously.

Phillip eyed Ruth, and then nodded his head.
“Yes, young lady, you are right. Each of us will have to kill four
of them.”

“I don’t see where that is a problem,” she
said, looking out towards the field of battle.

Phillip stood looking at her for a moment.
“Well, Ruth, then that is what we will try to do.”

She was heartened a bit at the thought of
the coming battle. She didn’t feel any fear at all. Piggy had taken
charge of their unit, and she trusted him completely. He found them
a spot in the trenches towards the center of the defensive line.
Weapons were brought in, and Piggy saw to it that she had several
quivers of arrows.

“Listen, this isn’t going to be much of an
arrow kind of battle, Ruth. The Aztlanis will have guns, and a lot
of them. You need to stay down, and don’t even think about getting
involved unless there is a clear shot that you can take.”

“I will do as you say, Piggy.”

“This is going to get frightening. You will
be more scared than you have ever been. Aztlan will have guns,
cannon, and all kinds of things,” he paused while he looked out
over the battlefield. You have to listen to me… all of you.” Troy
and the Hood both nodded in agreement. “If I give a command, you
have to do what I say instantly. You can’t hesitate. We’re all
counting on one another. If we have to retreat, the horses are tied
to a post over east of the command tents. Make your way there, and
we’ll ride around to the east of San Angelo and then head north. If
we get separated, leave plenty of sign and I’ll find you.” They all
nodded in agreement as they checked their weapons.

“Ruth,” Piggy continued, “I cannot tell you
how important it is that you keep your senses. If we are bombarded
with shells, it can become very disconcerting and confusing. If you
feel you are starting to lose it, just look at me… ok?”

“Ok, Piggy,” was all she could think of to
say.

They didn’t have long to wait. Soon they
heard the rumble of the approaching enemy. Then it grew quiet.
After about 30 minutes of near silence, shells began to fall in
every direction. Ruth was at first stunned by the ferocity of the
bombardment, but then her senses became dull and a stark fear
gripped her. Some shells landed so close that the gravel and dirt
shooting through the air stung her face and hands. She pressed
herself into the western wall of the trench and pulled her legs
close to her chest. The sound was deafening, and for a while she
actually thought that she had lost her hearing. The sounds faded
away, but the shells continued to drop and she could feel the force
of the concussions as they battered her. She began to feel a sense
of panic and she looked up and saw Piggy watching from just above
the ridge of the trench. He looked down and saw her, and then
slipped down beside her. Saying nothing, he reached into his pocket
and pulled out some cotton, which he tore into two pieces and
balled up into his hand. He indicated to her that she should put
them in her ears, and as he did so a shell exploded inside the
trench somewhere to the north of their position. Piggy was tossed
over her, and debris rained down heavily for several moments. When
he got off of her, she quickly checked to see that he was not
wounded, and she was grateful that he was not.

Then, just as quickly as the firing had
begun, it stopped. Several minutes passed by in silence before
Piggy poked his head up to see what was happening. He slid back
into the trench, motioning The Hood and Troy to gather around.

“They’re coming. This is it. Pick your
targets. Shoot slowly and deliberately, and no indiscriminate
firing. One shot, one kill. Aim for center mass. If they break
through the lines, don’t panic and keep firing. Ruth, you stay
down. Hand us ammo if you see we need it, and if anyone gets behind
us, or into the trench, you do your thing with the arrows… and
don’t miss.”

“I won’t miss, Piggy.”

“I know you won’t, Ruth. Just take your time
and stay calm like you did before.”

The three or four minutes that elapsed
between Piggy’s instructions and the arrival of the enemy seemed
like an eternity. Ruth crunched herself back up against the wall
and waited for the firing to start, but it seemed like it never
would.
Why aren’t they firing?
Then, she realized that the
militiamen were holding their fire so that they would have better
and more effective shots. The enemy was out in the open, and they
needed every bullet to find a home.

She looked up to Piggy and he smiled at her
as if he was just going to be target shooting.
Piggy is in his
element
, she thought. Then she wished that Timothy was here
with her; but, before that thought could fully coalesce, she put it
out of her mind.
Can’t think about Tim right now
.

Then the firing started, and she had never
heard anything quite like it in her life… even through the cotton
in her ears. The distinctive
whizz
of each bullet could be
heard independently, and she could feel the thud of bullets
slamming into the earth at the top of the trench. She dared to look
up again, and she saw The Hood, Troy, and Piggy firing slowly and
calmly, picking out their shots.

A few moments later, she heard Piggy shout,
“They’ve broken through!” and she looked down the line and saw
Aztlani soldiers pouring into the trench. She pulled out her bow
and kneeled down, facing northwards. She let each arrow fly
deliberately, and watched as man after man tumbled into a pile in
the trench. As more men began to climb over their dead comrades,
she picked them off with kill shots every time.
When will they
all just die!