Old Guns: 2 - Through The Gorge

by Cvent

Tags: Science Fiction,

Desc: : His holding destroyed and his people dead Gloria's father goes on a quest for an honorable death.

The Gorge

Nathan, my old friend, insisted that he come with me when I left my daughter Gloria and her new husband. I think he knew that with my people gone, my holding destroyed, and my daughter married, there was nothing here left for me. A warrior and a warlord can't just fade away and still remain true to themselves, and there is no honor in taking your own life through the sharpness of a blade or the dullness of drink. Better to die fighting, or even freezing on a mountain pass or starving in an empty desert than for an old warlord to fade away in the holding of another man.

So we left, the two of us, to seek adventure, to seek out an honorable death.

The road we traveled followed a large river. Before we left, Teacher drew us a map of the course we should take that would send us through a place called the Gorge. We spent two weeks making our way through the place while our horses tried to pick out the road that Teacher said should be there, all the while wind blasted against us and howled in the trees.

After days of struggle, the land opened up below us into a gently sloping valley that spread in great rolling hills to the east. Small stands of trees dotted the valleys where there was the promise of water.

"This is good land," Nathan said. "I wonder if people lived here before the dying."

I coughed and sneezed, then answered, "Hard to say. Doesn't much look like it though."

He nodded. "Lots of open land and no scars left from a broken down city."

I coughed again, and felt the tightness, like a fist, deep in my chest.

He peered at me then and said, "How are you feeling today?"

"Better a little," I lied. I had slipped and fallen down a shallow ravine two days before and landed in a pool of ice cold water that caused a chill to set on me. My breath rattled in my chest, and my head pounded in my temples and behind my eyes.

Nathan nodded, and then led us down to a small stand of fir trees.

"We'll stop here to rest, and gather some strength." Nathan said.

While he unloaded the horses I started a small fire and then huddled myself next to it. Nathan disappeared into the trees, and returned carrying a large armful of wood for the fire.

"Sir, I'll be back in a few hours. We need food, and you need rest."

I could barely nod my head back at him. He stood there for a moment, added some more wood to the fire, and then walked back into the trees.

The hours passed, and the pounding in my head began to affect my vision. I could still see the fire, but everything else was a silvery, shimmering mystery. I raised myself up long enough to carefully add wood to the fire now and then, and then flopped back down where I shivered so hard my teeth rattled.

I expected Nathan back before the sun set, but he didn't come. I wasn't completely sure if the sun had really set or not because my eyes were growing so dim, so I stayed where I was, patiently adding bits of wood to the fire, and then there was no wood left, and I fell asleep, cold and shivering on the ground.

My dreams were brief, and filled with violence. I saw the faces of my dead children crowding around me calling my name and crying out in fear. Then they were all gone and there was nothing but a wide open plain, as flat as anything I had ever seen with a dark, muddy sky overhead. I walked onward, in my dream, searching for something, but I couldn't remember what it was, and all around me was the nothingness of the empty plain.

I woke slowly, my bones stiff and aching. The fire beside me was dead, and Nathan wasn't anywhere nearby, but my vision was clear, and the throbbing in my head was nearly gone. I still felt pressure in my chest, but nothing like it had been. I felt really pretty good considering that I thought I might die the night before.

I pushed myself up off the ground, hobbled over to the horses, and dug in a pouch for some jerky. It was heading toward late morning, and the sun was warm on my back when it peeked itself out from among the clouds, and I started to worry about Nathan.

I remembered him walking into the trees to look for food, but I had no memory of him since then.

I walked over to the trees and quickly found his footprints. The trees grew close together with only light undergrowth at their feet. I stood there considering them for a moment, wondering if I should head in and search for him or if I should stay put and wait for him to return. I pursed my lips in thought, and just as I was about to turn back to the horses I heard the single report of a gunshot far off through the trees. I froze then and waited, listening for another shot, but none came.

Nathan and I both carried guns with us that we took from our fight with Davidson holding. We each carried a pistol and a rifle with a reasonable amount of bullets for each, and while they may have been handy for hunting food, we had determined that they were too precious and rare a thing to be used up by lazy hunting. We would hunt for food with our bows and save our bullets for killing people when it was needful.

Nathan may have used his gun because he thought I was sick and dying, but I doubted it. He was an excellent hunter with his bow, and the land around us had an abundance of game.

No, the sound of the gun told a different story. Nathan was either dead now, or he had just killed someone.

I jogged back to the horses, gathered up our gear, and guided the horses into the trees following Nathan's tracks as closely as I was able. The stand of trees was large, but it only took me an hour or so to make my way through it, and once I was out in the open again, I would have lost Nathan's tracks in the grass, but there was not need any longer to follow them.

I stood on a hill overlooking a small holding that roiled with activity. It had log walls thrown up around a cluster of houses, two of which were on fire, belching out thick black smoke. Around the holding, wherever I looked, I could see movement. Cattle were being driven away from the holding in one direction, horses were heading another, and I could see the little dots of men running back and forth, but I was unable to judge their intent.

Teacher always said, "Fools rush in." and I believe her. Something was happening around the holding below me, and I had no doubt that Nathan was involved somehow, but if I rode down there at top speed with my guns blazing, I very well might end up shooting the people on the wrong side. I decided not to announce myself, but I would keep myself hidden and find out a little more about what was happening down there.

I left the horses hidden in the trees, and crawled my way through the grass toward the holding. As I made my way there, a third building began to burn, and I heard another gunshot. Whatever was happening, someone was sure to be unhappy about it.

About half way down, I ran into a small gulley than headed down toward the holding. Once down into it, I was able to get up to a low crouch and jog forward. I kept myself alert, stopping every few feet to listen and watch for people, but I didn't meet anyone until I was almost all the way down the hill. The gulley bottom was soft, muddy in places, and had a few shallow pools in the more level places. It was at one of these pools that I found a wounded girl, naked and covered in blood, lying half way in the water.

I crouched over her, ready to help, but saw there was no need. Her neck had a rope tied around it, and under the knot of the rope, her throat had been cut with a knife. She was all used up in the most horrible fashion; raped, beaten, tortured, then killed. The person or people who did this to her deserved to have their life removed, and I raged against them remembering the blank, unseeing eyes of my own dead family. She looked to be about Gloria's age but without the benefit of Gloria's lanky, muscular body. This girl was soft and had once been very pretty. Now she was dead.

I crawled up to the edge of the gulley, ready for war. I was facing the back of the holding. Its walls showed a blank, gateless face, without openings of any kind. I slowly worked my way around it to the front just in time to see a large party of soldiers marching away down a dusty road. I appeared to be too late.

On either side of the gate there was a long line of wooden crosses with people hanging from them. I waited for the army to march away, and then I crept up to the nearest body hanging on the cross. The man was old, maybe sixty, and he had a stab wound in his shoulder that coated most of his body with blood. He was attached to the cross with spikes through his wrists and feet, and he looked to have died in complete agony.

I saluted him, and was about to follow the soldiers to kill as many of them as I could, when I heard a soft call for help. I ran down the line and quickly found that not all of the people were dead.

"Help me, please," gasped the first man I came to. He was skinny, but strong, with corded muscles that writhed as he tried to push himself up to catch his breath.

I was at a loss. I had a sword, but that wouldn't chop down the post he was attached to, and even if I did chop it down, the fall would probably kill him. I had to find a ladder or something similar to climb up to the man.

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