Iron Eyes, no. 1 (7 page)

Dawn crept
across the now calm Rio Grande river, sending the sunlight flashing
around the two brothers who were huddled together. No longer raging
in fury the water was now little more than three feet deep. The
bright rays woke Tom Hardy first, and he scrambled to his feet to
stretch the cramp out of his aching joints. It had been cold during
his sleep, and he felt older than his years as he paced around,
trying to get his legs to loosen up before waking his drunken
brother.

Then he saw
them across the water.

It had been the
glinting of sunlight upon their lances that first caught his eye.
He tried to make out what he had not previously noticed — the band
of Apache sitting astride their painted ponies — and his brain
desperately attempted to figure out what he should do next.

His mouth was
dry from the crippling sleep, but now it was getting worse as fear
raced through his body He kneeled down next to the snoring Whit and
shook his brother feverishly. It was never easy waking Whit at the
best of times, but somehow the urgency in Tom Hardy’s hands
penetrated Whit’s blurred mind, managing to get him out of his
drunken dreams. The whites of the younger Hardy’s eyes were raked
with red veins as he gazed up in befuddled apathy.

‘
Apache’
Tom whispered. His voice was
shaking so much that he had barely been able to say that one simple
word.

His younger
brother got on to his elbows and gave Tom a confused stare.

‘
What about them“?’ Whit asked, rubbing the sleep and sand from
the corners of his sore eyes.

Tom indicated
with his head at the group of men across the river.

Whit focused on
the Indians and then looked up into Tom’s face for answers.

‘
What we gonna do?’ he asked in a lowered tone, as if the
braves might be able to overhear their conversation across the
breaking waves of the wide river.

‘
I don’t know,’ Tom croaked.

‘
I wish Dan was here,’ Whit said, as he slowly turned over on
his side and searched for his gun.

‘
So do I.’ Tom kept his back to the river and the band of
curious braves. ‘He was a better shot than either of
us.’

‘
Reckon they are friendly?’ Whit checked his pistol to see if
he had remembered to load it. To his surprise, he had. Although he
had no memory of when and where he had done so.

Tom Hardy rose
to his feet, still clutching on to his blanket as he moved toward
their horses. He studied the Indians more closely from the cover of
the bushes and tree.

There were only
five men, dressed in a combination of styles that ranged from
Mexican farmer to native tribesman. Their hats gave their
identities away though. Only Apache wore feathers in their
ten-gallon hats. Only Apache had long black hair that always seemed
to have been sheered in a straight line at shoulder-length. The
lances too bore eagle feathers tied with dyed grass from just below
the sharpened steel points.

Unlike the
tribes to the north, who frequented the vast, endless plains, the
Apache never seemed very intimidating by the way they dressed, but
these were probably the most dangerous of Indians that any white
men could encounter. They were not easily fooled by trinkets, and
would fight to the death. These were the men who sat watching the
two Hardy brothers from their small ponies.

Tom indicated
to his brother to join him behind the cover of the tree, which Whit
duly did.

‘
I can’t see any rifles,’ Tom said, pointing at the quintet of
Apache braves.

‘
That don’t mean they ain’t got any’ Whit sniffed as he too
watched the silent observers.

Tom raised his
eyebrows as he rested his arms on the back of his brother’s horse.
His belly was grumbling for breakfast and coffee but this was not
the time or place to consider getting domestic.

‘
But it might.’ Tom rubbed his rough hairy chin as he tried to
get his brain around their problem.

‘
Apache without rifles?’ Whit shook his head. ‘I think you’re
crazy. Dang crazy.’

‘
Start to saddle up,’ Tom said, as he grabbed his younger
sibling by the ear. ‘Try not to let them see you doing
it.’

‘
What you going to do, Tom?’ Whit enquired, as the older man
stepped toward the two saddles upon the ground by the
bushes.

Tom slid his
Winchester out of its sheath and pulled out a box of cartridges
from his saddle-bag.

He started
forcing the shells into the rifle, cranking its lever with every
insertion.

‘
I’m going to sit by this tree and give us some cover whilst
you get them saddles on to them horses, boy,’ Tom replied. ‘So get
them saddles on to them horses fast.’

‘
How come you get to cover me and I gotta do all the
work?’

‘
Maybe because I can shoot straighter than you,
Whit.’

‘
Only a tad straighter,’ Whit grumbled as he folded the
blankets and tossed them over the backs of their horses.

Tom Hardy knelt
down by the tree and leaned into its trunk as he held the fully
loaded repeating rifle in his sweating hands.

The Apache
looked like statues as they sat upon their ponies watching the two
men. Only their long black hair moved as the breeze off the
fast-flowing river blew it around their shoulders.

Twenty miles away in the warmth of the room within Dwan José
Valdez’s
hacienda
,
Iron Eyes awoke in terror. He lay for an instant upon his back on
the soft, clean bed, staring at the white ceiling above his head.
His steel-grey pupils studied the cracks in the plaster as his mind
raced.

His head felt
foggy as he lay upon the bed, then he recalled the wine. The
ever-flowing wine of the previous evening.

Then his highly
tuned senses became aware of the reason he had woken so suddenly
from a deep slumber.

The aroma of a
cigar had drifted across him, filling his nostrils.

Iron Eyes knew
that he was not alone.

Turning his head slightly, he focused upon the seated figure
of Valdez. He had two
vaqueros
standing behind him, holding their .45s across
their hearts. They were emotionless as they stood guard over their
master. Only their blinking black eyes moved as they watched the
prostrate man.

They were ready
for action even if he was not.

Iron Eyes moved
his hands toward the handles of his Navy Colts, but they were no
longer tucked into the sash around his slim waist. Sitting upright
in one quick movement, his eyes searched around the bed for the
missing guns.

For the first
time in a long while, panic raced through Iron Eyes. Without his
guns he was just another tall, thin human being with a pitted
face.

Valdez raised
his hands from his lap and waved the two Navy Colts in the air.

‘
Looking for these, my very tall friend?’ the elegant man asked
as his white teeth gripped the long cigar.

‘
How did you get my irons, Valdez?’ Iron Eyes growled. ‘No
living creature can touch my guns without me knowing.’

‘
You did drink the wine that was left by your bed, did you
not?’ Dwan José pointed at the empty bottle on a stand next to the
bed. The bottle was almost empty.’

‘
Sure, but I wasn’t drunk enough for you to get my guns off
me.’ Iron Eyes swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and
planted his bare feet upon the cold, tiled floor. Apart from his
socks and boots, the bounty-hunter was still fully
dressed.

‘
That was no normal bottle of wine, Mister Iron Eyes.’ The
smart man smiled at the confused bounty-hunter.

‘
It was drugged?’ Iron Eyes ran his hands through his long hair
as he stared at the trio before him. ‘You drugged my booze and I
was dumb enough to drink it. Great.’

‘
Just a little sleeping potion, my tall friend,’ Dwan José
shrugged.

‘
I knew it.’ Iron Eyes shook his head angrily ‘I knew that it
was some sort of trick. I ain’t no outlaw so you’ve caught yourself
someone with no price on his head, Valdez.’

‘
What?’ Valdez seemed offended. ‘What do you mean?’

‘
The kindness. I knew it was a trick.’ Iron Eyes cupped his
head in his wide, bony hands as he tried to console himself at
being captured, not the hunter, for once in his life.

‘
My generosity is not a trick,’ Valdez stood in fury ‘I did not
trick you. I am the most generous man in all Mexico.’

Iron Eyes also
stood up, but was too wise to make a move on the three men who had
not only their own guns but his too. ‘Then how come you got my
shooting irons?’

Valdez seemed
suddenly sad as he tossed the Navy Colts on to the bed beside the
tall man. Iron Eyes looked at his guns which were now within his
reach with a confused expression upon his face.

‘
You steal my guns then give them back?’ Iron Eyes narrowed his
eyes as he stood watching the man. ‘I don’t get it.’

‘
Do not worry my friend. They are not loaded. I am not a fool,’
Valdez said as he puffed on his cigar. ‘I have a favour to ask of
you.’

‘
Favour?’ The word did not rest easy in Iron Eyes’ guts. He had
a code that required payment for everything he did.

‘
You are well known to my people.’ Valdez seated himself back
down and watched as the bounty-hunter followed suit. ‘You are the
famous hunter of men. You are the man who can kill without any fear
or regret. We have no such person here.’

‘
I’m Iron Eyes, if that’s what you mean.’

‘
Exactly You are Iron Eyes.’ Valdez flicked ash on to the
floor, and then stared hard into the eyes of the stranger before
him. ‘I require your services. I shall pay you much gold coin for
you to do a job for me.’

Iron Eyes found
himself grinning in expectation. ‘You want someone killed?’

‘
Not exactly Although I think that your skill in that area
might be called upon.’ Valdez ran his fingers nervously over the
long moustache as if trying to find the words he
required.

‘
I ain’t no gunslinger. I ain’t no hired gun,’ Iron Eyes
informed the man. ‘I hunt bounty on varmints. Dead or
alive.’

Valdez leaned
forward. ‘You are a man who can face other men and overcome all
odds, my tall friend. You are a man like no other. This is what I
require.’

‘
I’m good at what I do.’

‘
I knew you were heading for the Rio Grande before you left
Texas,’ Valdez said bluntly. ‘I have my spies. I have something for
you to consider.’

‘
Spit it out.’ Iron Eyes rubbed his chin as he concentrated on
the neat Mexican.

‘
My daughter was taken by bandits over ten days ago.’ The man
was unashamed of the tears which swelled up in his mature eyes and
started to roll down his face as he spoke.

‘
Taken?’ Iron Eyes sat upright. ‘You mean that bandits
kidnapped your daughter?’

‘
Yes, my tall friend.’ Valdez pulled in on his cigar and then
blew the grey smoke at the floor. ‘My only daughter Maria was taken
from my personal coach. My
vaqueros
were outnumbered, and all but two lost their lives
trying to protect her. My men are as brave as lions but they are
not killers.’

‘
How many
vaqueros
were guarding your daughter?’ Iron Eyes was becoming more and
more curious.

‘
Ten.’ Valdez shook his head at the floor, sending a shower of
tears descending to his feet.

‘
The bandits killed eight of your men just to get your
daughter? Iron Eyes spoke in a tone that spelled his disgust for
the bandits.

‘
Yes.’

Iron Eyes
rubbed his neck. ‘You know who these men are?’

The older man
nodded. ‘I have received a ransom letter with a lock of Maria’s
hair. They want gold.’

‘
Why not pay them instead of hiring me?’ Iron Eyes
asked.

‘
Because they will simply do it again and again.’ Valdez seemed
to know something about these bandits that he had not yet conveyed
to the bounty-hunter. ‘You will stop them ever doing it
again.’

‘
Then I’ll get your daughter from them.’ Iron Eyes stood as if
suddenly charged with energy He picked up his saddle-bags and
emptied their contents upon the bed. The boxes of bullets were
quickly swooped up by his long fingers. He started to insert them
one by one into his Navy Colts. ‘How much money do you want, my
tall one?’

‘
Half of whatever those varmints demanded in the ransom note,’
Iron Eyes grunted.

‘
Only half?’ Valdez stood and offered the man a cigar, which
was accepted.

‘
Half will be fine.’ Iron Eyes bit off the end of his cigar and
rammed it into his mouth as he accepted a light from the smaller
man.

Dwan José stood
and bowed his head. ‘I am sorry about drugging your wine, my tall
friend, but I had to ensure that you would still be here this
morning. I required time for us to talk.’

‘
That wine tasted pretty good,’ Iron Eyes almost smiled as he
took in a lungful of the strong smoke.