The Lawless (19 page)

C
HAPTER
F
IFTY

Savannah St. James rang for her maid, who appeared in her nightgown, her hair in curling ribbons and her dark face shining with night cream. “I'm sorry to call you so late, Leah. You must think me most inconsiderate.”

“Not at all, Miss St. James,” the maid said. “It is no trouble.”

“Please sit, Leah.” Savannah motioned to the sofa.

The woman sat on the edge.

“How long have you been with me, Leah?”

“Fifteen years, Miss St. James. Ever since you were a lovely young thing living in London town.”

“You've been a good and faithful servant, Leah.”

“Thank you.” The woman looked puzzled.

“You know I attack the Kerrigan woman and her vile clan tomorrow morning, don't you?” Savannah asked.

“Yes, ma'am. And a wicked, wicked woman she is, murdering poor Mr. St. James like that.”

“Indeed she is. Leah, I asked you here because I want to give you this.” She pulled a bloodred ruby ring from her finger. “It's the only thing of value I have left.”

Leah looked stricken. “Miss St. James, are you dismissing me?”

“Yes I am, Leah. All my money is gone and I can no longer pay you.” Savannah laid her derringer on the table beside her. “When this is over and I watch Mrs. Kerrigan die, I will use that weapon to take my own life.”

“But why, Miss St. James?” Leah couldn't understand. “You will have the herds.”

Savannah smiled. “Ah, yes, the herds. But I have no money to pay cowboys to see cattle through the winter and round them up come spring. No money to drive them north.” Savannah smiled. “I very much doubt that I have enough pennies in my purse to see myself through winter. I'd probably starve to death. I rolled the dice, you see, and I lost.”

“Your brother could have saved us,” Leah said loyally.

“Yes, he could, but now he's dead, and the only thing remaining to me is to avenge his murder. How I long to kill that Kerrigan woman.”

Leah shook her head. “I'm not leaving you, Savannah. I love you as though you were my own child. If we die, we die together.”

“No, Leah, you must leave. Save yourself.”

“This is the first command from you I have refused to obey. I will not leave. I will remain at your side until the end. If we both must die of starvation, then so be it.”

Savannah rose from her chair and took Leah in her arms. “You are all I have left. Later, we'll talk about the old times and we'll laugh and cry and remember.”

“Perhaps we'll find a way,” Leah said. “You'll find a way to live and love again.”

“I can't be young again. And I won't let you suffer with me.” Savannah reached behind her and found the derringer. “Farewell, Leah. I love you so much.”

The derringer roared and Leah died instantly.

Savannah lay the woman out on the couch and sat back in her chair. She sat in silent vigil over Leah's body until sunrise, when Marmaduke Tweng called out for her.

 

 

“I thought I heard a shot in the night, Miss St. James,” Tweng said. “Was it the Kerrigan woman?”

“No, Mr. Tweng,” Savannah said. “Leah took her own life. I wanted to dismiss her, but she couldn't bear to be parted from me.”

“Where is she? Oh, I see her,” Tweng said. “She looks so peaceful lying there.”

“Yes, she's at peace now. We will bury her in the spot where the Kerrigan cabin stands and put Kate Kerrigan at her feet.”

“Poetic justice.” Tweng wore his goggles. His leather coat was buckled to the neck and he wore a pair of leather gauntlets.

“I want everyone dead,” Savannah reminded him.

Annoyed, Tweng said, “Yes, and I assured you that the
Emperor Maximilian
has that capability. I have not changed my mind since. I believe that, properly handled, it will cause great slaughter.”

Savannah went back inside and dressed for war. She wore her tight leather corset, Mexican army officer's campaign pants, and high boots. Across her chest hung a bandolier of .44-40 rifle shells for the Henry she'd propped against her chair.

Tweng appeared at the door again. “I will lock the doors and windows and open them again when we're ready to finish off the wounded.”

Savannah nodded. “Can I depend on you, Mr. Tweng? Can you kill?”

Tweng smiled. “Dear lady, I am only the engineer. The
Emperor
will do the killing, and very efficiently. Remember, he is invulnerable to gunfire.”

“Then let's get it done.”

A few moments later, she heard the
click-click
of the doors and windows locking in place and then a great bellow from the drive train as Tweng gave full throttle to the steam engines. His cabin was in front, fully enclosed by reinforced glass, and on each side of his seat was a system of heavily oiled levers that guided the
Emperor
.

Marmaduke Tweng was very excited. Hitherto, he'd considered the
Emperor
as merely a conveyance, but finally it would prove its worth as a weapon of war.

He smiled. Steam would see him through.

C
HAPTER
F
IFTY-ONE

Long before dawn, Kate Kerrigan and Jazmin Salas had coffee on the boil, bacon frying, and biscuits in the oven to feed the hungry men.

They stood around outside and ate in silence, each busy with his thoughts. Frank Cobb started out surly, still angry at being wakened by Brown when he was dreaming about Kate, but coffee helped. By the time he was ready to move onto the grass, he was almost cheerful.

Kate wore a canvas riding skirt, then becoming fashionable, boots, and a man's shirt. On her head was a battered hat and black gloves covered her hands to reduce the impact of the Henry's recoil. Even at that early hour of the morning, she was dazzlingly lovely. The gallant Count Andropov declared her to be “a vision of Celtic beauty.”

Marco Salas carried no weapon since he was proficient with neither rifle nor pistol. He wore his leather blacksmith's apron and a pair of goggles as eye protection should his cannon decide to blow up on him.

An unexpected recruit to Kate's little army was Pete Slicer. Although still gaunt and in constant pain, he insisted on joining in the defense of the ranch.

Cobb was not impressed. “Pete, I see you make one fancy move, I swear to God I'll gun you.”

“I'll stick,” Slicer said. “I'm not doing this for you or for Kate Kerrigan. It's for Dr. Fullerton. She saved my life and now I'm going to help save hers.”

Henry Brown grinned. “Sweet on her, huh?”

“You could say that.” Slicer glared. “But don't say it again.”

“You're a mite touchy on that subject, Pete,” Cobb said.

“Yeah, well, I don't think Mary is sweet on me,” Slicer grumbled.

“Oh, I don't know,” Brown said. “Stranger things have happened.”

Slicer glared again. “You're a pushy man, sonny. It's gonna get you shot one day.”

 

 

Kate and the others were in position while it was still dark, strung out across twenty-five yards of prairie. The only people not in the firing line were Marco, who left to tend to his cannon, and Dr. Fullerton, who held herself in reserve to treat the wounded.

Cobb had decided to stay on the ground and join in the rifle fire. He lay on the grass next to Kate, Trace on her other side.

“Do you see anything, Frank?” Kate asked.

Cobb shook his head. “Not a thing.”

“Trace, you and Quinn have young eyes,” Kate said. “Keep a sharp watch.”

Count Andropov turned to Henry Brown at his side. “This reminds me of the Russian 345th Regiment of Foot waiting for the French cuirassier cavalry charge at the Battle of Borodino.”

“Did the Russians win?” Brown asked.

“No. They were wiped out to a man.”

Brown stared. “Count, go lie down beside somebody else, huh?”

 

 

Marco Salas kneeled beside his cannon and for the third time in a few minutes checked that the fuse was still in place. Not trusting commercially made lucifers to light when needed, he'd made his own matches that were about as unstable as sticks of sweating dynamite.

He could see nothing in the darkness around him but ten minutes after he'd taken up his position he heard a distant rumble. Something was coming and Marco prepared himself. He said a prayer to Our Lady of Guadalupe, then polished the iron cannon barrel with an oily rag. The cannonball nestled inside the breech ready to inflict great damage to the enemy cavalry, and Marco's hands trembled with excitement as the hour of battle drew closer.

 

 

“Ma, can you hear that?” Trace questioned.

“Yes I can.” Kate pushed a wayward curl off her forehead. She turned to Cobb, “Frank, what is that?”

“It sounds like horses. But, damn it, could Savannah St. James have that many? It sounds like a cavalry regiment.”

 

 

“The Cossacks are drawing closer, Mr. Brown,” Andropov said. “We must meet their charge with bravery and determination before they wipe us out.”

“Count, git the hell away from me.”

 

 

The distant rumble became a roar and in the distance, still far off, the beams of four large reflector lamps probed the darkness.

Kate was the first to recover from the shock. “That's not horses. It's a machine. It's Savannah's steam carriage.”

“Traveling in style, isn't she?” Cobb said sarcastically.

Filled with a sense of foreboding, Kate said, “I hope that's all it is.”

C
HAPTER
F
IFTY-TWO

Marmaduke Tweng halted the
Emperor Maximilian
to let the morning light catch up with him. He was well pleased with
Emperor
's performance on flat ground. It was more nimble than he'd thought, with a top speed as fast as a man on a galloping horse. Fitted with fire guns, the great machine would be a formidable weapon indeed. When this nasty Kerrigan business was settled, he'd work on arming the
Emperor
with guns fore and aft and perhaps on the sides.

The speaking tube above Tweng's head hissed into life. Savannah's voice sounded tinny as she said, “Why have we stopped, Mr. Tweng?”

“Waiting for the light, Miss St. James.”

“I think we should press on, Mr. Tweng.”

“If I can't see 'em, I can't mash 'em, Miss St. James. We'll only be a few minutes. The darkness is already fading.”

“A soon as possible, Mr. Tweng.”
Thunk.
Savannah replaced her end of the speaking tube.

Tweng sighed. How little people knew about the plight of the steam engineer. Even the great, sooty ironclads that patrolled the world's oceans did not fight in the dark. Come sundown, they were blind as bats.

As it was, the morning light arrived with agonizing slowness and it was almost thirty minutes before Tweng drove the
Emperor
forward. He adjusted his goggles and settled his top hat more firmly on his head. Hissing, clanking, throbbing in every bolt, the mighty
Emperor Maximilian
was going to war.

 

 

“Leah, when I kill the Kerrigan woman, I'll prop you up at a window so you can see.” Savannah smiled. “Would you like that, dear?”

Leah's dead eyes stared at her, her head bobbing with every movement of the
Emperor
.

“Yes, I thought you would. You're such a treasured friend.” Savannah reached for the speaking tube and blew into the mouthpiece. “Mr. Tweng, can you hear?”

“Loud and clear, Miss St. James.”

“When will the killing start? Miss Leah is most anxious to know.”

“Soon, Miss St. James. The
Emperor
is on the scent.”

Savannah sang, “A-hunting we will go, a-hunting we will go . . .” She stopped. “The morning seems fine, Mr. Tweng. It will be a sunny day.”

“That is also my opinion, Miss St. James.”

Savannah's voice continued to carry through the speaking tube. “Did you hear that, Leah, darling? It's a fair day for killing Mrs. Kerrigan. Mr. Tweng, will she scream much when crushed under the
Emperor
's wheels?”

“That entirely depends on where she's crushed, Miss St. James,” Tweng said. “The head now, that would kill her instantly.”

“Well, we don't want that, do we, Leah?” Savannah said. “Avoid the head at all costs, Mr. Tweng.”

“I certainly will,” Tweng said. “This is proving to be a most interesting experiment.”

 

 

As it rolled across the prairie, the
Emperor Maximilian
was a beautiful sight, an engineering masterpiece of steel, glass, bronze, copper, and green and gold paint. Its massive wheels, each as wide as an axe handle, were the height of a tall man and driven by massive pistons. As it neared Kate Kerrigan and her band, the
Emperor
looked more predator than machine, a fiery nightmare dragon from another age.

Forward in the driver's cabin, looking like a malevolent gnome, Marmaduke Tweng heard a
Ping!
as someone tried a long-range rifle shot. He immediately checked his dials and gauges and ascertained that no damage had been done. He smiled. It would take more than rifle fire to turn the
Emperor
from its just and rightful course.