Deadman's Lament (The Deadman Series Book 1) Read online

  Mattie stared down the forested slope toward the Indians that fished the river’s shore and despaired. They were too far away to see the trading post through the tall trees. Mattie also knew that the Indians disliked getting involved in “white man’s business”.

  The leader of the gang studied the house and its attached tent with eyes as cold and gray as frosted water. He lifted his upper lip and spat, letting a long, yellow string of chew drizzle from between his two front teeth.

  “Top Hat … Daryl, go in and fetch that fuckin’ Frenchie. Grab the payroll while you’re at it.”

  Mattie’s blood ran cold. Dupre’ almost never let Minette or Marie mingle with the customers. Some of them were downright mean and others were as wild and feral as the beasts they hunted. Still others were so starved for the love of a woman they blushed and panted in almost uncontrollable lust while in mixed company.

  The only customers Jacques allowed in his kitchen were trading company agents; not because he liked or trusted Northwest Traders more, but because a good percentage of Dupre’s income came from the handling of furs. Mattie suddenly realized that the leader of these outlaws must have been in or around the house on company business and was now double-dealing.

  The two men started moving toward the house. One was tall and stick-thin, with dull eyes and long, bucked teeth like a rat; the other was so fat that rolls of flesh oozed out from under his belt and his many chins jiggled when he stepped onto the porch.

  Mattie felt around and pulled his slingshot from his pants pocket. He thought, for sure, that the women would be all right; they were hidden in a dugout beneath an ancient Tamarack just beyond the outhouse. Mattie worried more for Mr. Dupre’. Although Jacques was a good, kind man, he was possessed of a fiery temper and was a bad shot with a rifle.

  The two outlaws walked across the porch and Mattie held his nose as dust sifted down on his head and shoulders. The door was bolted shut but the wood was old and gave away with one swift kick. Almost immediately, Mattie heard rifle fire.

  “Gawd damint!” one of the men exclaimed. “That Frenchie almost took my dang head off!”

  Mattie heard the other man laugh. “That’s what ya get fer makin’ yourself such a fat target. Now look sharp! That varmint is around here somewhere.”

  Mattie started to edge away to the far side of the porch. He thought he might be able to sneak around the east side of the house and fetch the womenfolk away to safety while the others were distracted. Keeping one eye on the leader of the gang, he scooted backward in the dirt. Seeing the sun’s rays near the end of the structure, Mattie was just about to scramble out into the open when a large, rough hand seized his shoulder. He couldn’t help but squeal in fright as he was lifted into the air.

  “Lookie what I found, Boss!”

  Although Mattie struggled and fought with all his might, he could not break free of the hands that held him by the scruff of the neck like a puppy. Twisting around in mid-air, he stared at his captor in shock. The man was enormous with shiny, dark skin and wild, kinky hair. He wore plaid pants that rode high above his ankles but he was bare-chested. Scars crossed his torso and shoulders, his dull black eyes smoldering with dull hatred.

  The boss nodded and said, “Very fine catch, Tulu…extra rations for you tonight.”

  Tulu bowed his head. “Yes, Boss. Thank you, Boss. What do I do with this critter?”

  The leader studied Mattie’s trembling body for a moment. His eyes were a brilliant blue and, although he seemed to be in his mid to late 50s, Mattie could tell that he had once been a fine-looking man…a cool drink of water on a hot summer’s day, as his daddy used to say.

  Now, though, time and trouble had etched the man’s face with scowl marks and deep brackets around thin, downturned lips. Those same lips turned up in a grin and he said, “Tie him to the mule. He’s comin’ with us.”

  “Yes, Suh.” Tulu answered. Despite Mattie’s howls of protest, the boy soon found himself trussed as tightly as a hog, face down on a stinking horse blanket on back of a mule.

  A few moments later, there was another round of gunfire and a hoarse shout of pain from inside the house. Mattie turned his head and watched as the two bandits hauled Jacques Dupre’s limp body out into the front yard. They dumped him face down on the ground at the leader’s feet, kicking him over so that his dead eyes stared up into the sky.

  Then, the man named Top Hat held up a leather sack. “Found this, Randall, with about twenty silver dollars inside. Didn’t find no payroll, though, sorry to say.”

  Randall Penny considered the small sack in his cousin’s hand and cursed. He had heard that the trading company boys were headed down here today but they must not have come by yet which meant the shed was probably rich with furs. Problem was, their wagons were over twenty miles away and, even on horseback, there was no possible way to get the wagons back here in time to load up those furs without being caught by either the company boys or the law.

  “Shitfire,” he muttered, scratching at his beard. Then he grinned and said, “Top Hat, you and Daryl go on around back by that big Tam. There is a trap door just east of the tree. There you will find a hideout. Go and fetch the womenfolk out here.”

  Mattie had watched as his friend and protector, Dupre’, was dumped at Randall’s feet like a dead dog. Tears of sorrow filled his eyes and wet the blanket on which he lay. He had thought—hoped—that Marie and her mother were safe. Now he knew that the young girl he had fallen in love with and planned to marry was doomed.

  “NO!” he howled in anguish.

  A flock of crows lifted as one, staining the sky overhead with inky shadows before dispersing and flying north. The Indians who fished the far shore of the river shuddered and looked away from the sudden, ill omen that darkened their day.

  Chapter 4

  A Crow’s Cry

  “Tulu! Shut that boy up!” Randall snapped.

  Instantly, Tulu’s large hand covered Mattie’s cries. “You hush now afore I eats you for dinner!” he growled.

  Mattie wanted to scream even louder but the man’s hand was so big it covered both his mouth and his nose. Suddenly, Mattie found himself unable to breathe and he whipped his head from side to side in search of air. The hand tightened and Mattie understood that he would suffocate if he didn’t stop struggling; he quieted and lay back down on the woven blanket.

  Tulu stared at him for a moment and asked, “You be quiet now, boy?”

  Mattie nodded mutely and sighed when the Negro tied a dirty bandana around his mouth as a gag. “There now. You be good and Tulu don’t eat you…or worse, Boss don’t give you to his cousin, Top Hat.”

  Mattie looked up into Tulu’s face and thought he saw something. A flash of kindness maybe or the warmth of fear in the man’s dark eyes. He started to speak but Tulu shook his head and walked away.

  Mattie heard a shout in the distance and his heart sank. It was Marie’s mother, Minette, screeching in outrage. Then the two men came around the corner of the house. Daryl was dragging her by one arm while Top Hat carried Marie over his shoulder like a sack of beans. Minette started to scream in earnest when she saw her husband sprawled in the dirt in front of Randall’s horse.

  Mattie saw Marie struggle fiercely but he realized that her wrists were bound with a short piece of rope. Top Hat dumped the young girl on the ground close to her dead father and she crawled, weeping, toward his body. Minette threw her head back and let out a wail of sorrow so profound even Randall looked away.

  Sagging to the ground in grief, Minette crept to her husband’s side. While mother and daughter wept bitter tears, the outlaws huddled together, deciding what to do.

  Mattie couldn’t quite hear what they were saying but, suddenly, Top Hat stepped back, pulled his pistol and shot Minette in the back. Mattie groaned behind his gag and tears clogged his throat. Marie sat up in shock, staring at the woman who had given birth to her now lying prostrate on her husband’s chest. Minette was not dead though…not yet. She whispered so
mething to her daughter who leaned down listening intently to her words. Then she was gone and Marie looked up at the man who had shot her parents for twenty pieces of silver. Her blue eyes were wide with shock and her lips were twisted in a parody of a smile that sent chills through Mattie’s heart.

  The girl who stared at the road agents with a death’s head grin and vacant eyes was no longer the girl he had fallen in love with, Mattie knew. Her heart had just been ripped out and torn to pieces while he watched, trussed up like a piece of meat, unable to help. He hung his head in shame and sorrow and waited for the bullet that never came.

  “Put her on the other mule,” Randall muttered.

  Mattie looked up in surprise. He was sure that Marie would be murdered, too. Instead, she was going to be held captive along with him. He felt his heart swell with hope. Some of his father’s sayings swirled around in Mattie’s head like a flock of birds. Where there is life, there is hope and Where there is a will, there is a way.

  Tulu strode over to a mule that was harnessed close to the animal Mattie was tied on. The big man held Marie gently enough but it didn’t seem to matter much to the girl one way or the other. Her eyes were blank with incomprehension and, although Mattie’s gaze met hers as Tulu tied her to the restless mule, there was no recognition in those blue depths.

  Randall, who had not dismounted while his henchmen laid waste to their world, rode close to Mattie and said, “That little gash will fetch a handsome price at a place I know of in Seattle.”

  He studied the look of rage and revulsion that filled Mattie’s eyes and added, “Don’t you be getting any funny ideas in that pretty head of yours. You will stay with us for a while. We’ve been in need of a hand in this outfit and I think you will do jus’ fine.”

  He spurred his horse, simultaneously pulling the reins back so the mare squealed in pain and reared up, pawing the air.

  “If you do a good job, we’ll take care of you. If not, I’ll gut you like a fish and feed you to my nigger.”

  They rode hard then, for hours and hours, west into the setting sun. Sometime in the late afternoon, the band of outlaws rode into a crevasse. Mattie stared at the tall rock formation in awe. The setting sun reached long, yellow fingers into the shadowy tunnel and illuminated glittering veins of silver and gold running like sparkly ribbons through the granite walls. He wondered if those golden specks were “real” or the fabled “Fool’s Gold” he had heard tales of in the past.

  He looked over at Marie and saw that she was asleep; her cheeks were flushed and her long, black lashes fanned across them like a bird’s feathers.

  The horse’s hooves sounded like rolling thunder as they emerged from the tunnel. Milling around in the cool evening’s dusk, Mattie saw a campfire across an expanse of pasture; its orange reflection made the distant cliffs look like hell’s fire.

  He shuddered in fear as he saw the silhouette of many more men in the fire’s glow. Looking up, he saw an evening star twinkling distantly in a purple sky, and he felt as lost and lonely as that star. Even as he watched, the star was snuffed out, obscured by a cloud or the slant of the Earth’s horizon.

  Then the mule stepped forward with a jolt and they were galloping toward the firelight and whatever evil surrounded it. The band of highwaymen rode into the encampment with shouts of glee. Mattie saw that about a dozen or so men surrounded the fire. An Indian ran up and took the reins of Randall’s horse while he got down out of the saddle. Two more men ambled over and took the reins of Top Hat and Daryl’s horses while the rest came and stared at where he and Marie sat tied to the mules.

  “Whatcher got there, Boss?” A middle-aged man with loose, tobacco-stained lips stood close to Marie and ogled the young girl. He seemed to be simple-minded but Mattie saw that he was rubbing at his crotch with unabashed attention.

  “You leave off staring at that girl, Rooster!” Randall snarled and the man took a stumbling step backward; the other men stepped away as well.

  Tulu slid off his horse, then bent over and untied the ropes that held Marie in place on the mule’s back. Picking her up, the big man walked away and stepped inside a large, canvas tent.

  “Now, this here boy’s name is Matthew. He is our new hand. I want you to make him feel welcome and don’t give him too much grief, you hear me? You share your grub with him and teach him what he needs to know or I’ll hear about it.” Randall put his hand on Mattie’s knee, glaring at the faces surrounding them in the twilight.

  He turned to his left and said, “And that goes for you too, Top Hat. None of your guff with this youngster, do ya hear?”

  Top Hat stared at his cousin’s face for a moment, then at Mattie. Saying nothing, he slapped his dusty hat against his thigh and stalked off into the shadows.

  The rest of the night passed by in a blur of whispered voices, furtive movements and silent fear. Mattie was led to the fire and a plate of some sort of stew was thrust in his face. An old man who introduced himself as Parker sat down on the ground by his side. He handed the boy an old blanket and asked, “Do you know how to handle horseflesh?”

  Mattie nodded silently and Parker said, “You need to speak up, son. I’m hard of hearing. Besides, pouting about your situation will only get you in trouble with this outfit, understand?”

  He turned to the man and answered, “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  “Good.” Parker nodded. “You’re a young’un, I see, and I’m sorry for whatever happened to bring you to this state. You’re in it now, though, and there’s no denying it. So you best work hard and give no call to bring more grief your way. I’ll see you do things the right way but, if you’re too sassy, I’ll be telling the boss.”

  The old man turned to stare at Mattie. In the fire’s glow, he saw that Parker’s hair was yellowish white and one side of his face looked to be melted like candle wax. His left eye was wide open, though, and stared down at him with concern. Mattie knew he had to trust someone and he thought he saw some kindness in the oldster’s remaining eye.

  He nodded and replied, “No sir, I won’t sass you and I promise to work hard. Thank you.”

  Parker stared at his charge for a moment and his crusty heart seemed to crack in his chest. This boy bore an uncanny resemblance to his son, dead so many years now he didn’t have the numbers at hand to count their passing. He remembered his two girls as well…and his wife, all burned up in the conflagration the Blackfoot Indians made of their home in southern Idaho.

  Long-buried memories roared through him, making him feel dizzy with emotions. Then, taking himself firmly in hand, he cleared his throat and stood up. Looking down at the sweet, young boy with green eyes and blond hair that stuck up in tufts on his head, he barked, “You get some shut eye, now. We ride early.”

  With those words, Parker strode off into the shadows and turned away so the others could not see the steady stream of tears that ran like rain down his withered cheeks.

  Chapter 5

  Grace under Pressure

  It felt like only a few moments had passed when Mattie opened his eyes to a gray dawn. Tulu crouched over him and hissed, “Better wake up, boy…NOW!”

  Sitting bolt upright, Mattie rubbed throbbing eyelids and looked around the camp. He saw that four horses and their riders were already trotting off into the rising sun. However, Randall Penny and a few other men stood by the coals of last night’s fire, sipping coffee and smoking.

  “Get yerself some of that brew, son, and then come and help me with these horses and those Gawd-dang mules.” Parker grinned down at him.

  Mattie realized that his new friend was far older than he had thought the night before. His long, white hair fell in one, long braid down his left shoulder. Mattie understood, in the light of day, that most of the man’s scalp on the right side was nothing but burnt scar tissue.

  “Yes, sir!” Mattie mumbled, and yawned. He had lain awake much of the night, worrying over what had happened, Marie’s welfare, and what was to come. He felt like a will o’ the wisp, forever
caught on life’s tumultuous winds, as helpless and ineffectual as a twig floating on rushing waters.

  Standing up, Mattie shook his blanket out and folded it twice, placing it neatly on a nearby rock before joining the others by the fire. He studied the smoke-blackened coffeepot for a moment and then spied a piece of leather stropping in the dirt close to the coals. Picking it up, he used it as a potholder and poured himself a swallow or two of the bitter black brew.

  “Gawd Almighty!” Daryl exclaimed. “It took Rooster twenty tries and twice the blisters before he figured that trick out!”

  “To hell witcha all,” muttered a voice from the other side of the fire to a round of snickers.

  Randall watched the boy sip his coffee and asked, “Have you been to school, young’un?”

  Mattie winced. Somehow, he didn’t think that being educated and knowing his arithmetic and letters would ingratiate him to this crew. Still, he didn’t think it prudent to lie.

  “Yes, sir. My ma taught me to read and write.”

  “Did she, now?” The man’s black and gray eyebrows drew together in a thoughtful frown. “And who are your folks, if I may ask?”

  Mattie could practically see the wheels turning in Penny’s head. Education was often costly and usually meant that the families of educated children had money to spare. For once, and despite what his own heart said, Mattie was glad that his ma and pa were gone, along with the family fortune. Never would they be a victim of Randall Penny’s greed.

  “They are dead now, sir. My pa from a stroke and my ma from the pox.” Mattie didn’t dare mention his sister but then he, himself, had no idea where Maude was or how to find her. Knowing that his eyes were red and hot with wrath, he hoped his demeanor didn’t raise the man’s ire. Looking down, he mumbled, “Please sir, I’m supposed to help Mr. Parker. May I be excused?”