Ole Devil and the Caplocks (23 page)

Or had Mannen Blaze been
aware of his cousin’s arrival?

Considering the behavior
of the man who had accompanied the consignment from New Orleans and
who had remained silent when he should have been protesting or
trying to take control from the bumbling, incompetent redhead, the
Prussian was puzzled. Either the burly lieutenant had been
exceptionally lucky, or he was far from the dullard he
appeared.

However, there was no time
for von Lowenbrau to ponder on the question. Glancing at the rim,
he stiffened. There were several men armed with rifles advancing
from it. They had not been there when he had led his Dragoons into
the hollow. The members of his company were not yet aware of the
new and very dangerous factor which had arisen.

“
Good
morning, Captain Hardin,” the Prussian greeted, hoping that none of
his Dragoons did anything stupid. While the man he was addressing
kept walking, the other two had halted to their rear. “I’m pleased
to see that you have brought more men to help guard the
consignment.”

“Good morning, Major von
Lowenbrau,” Ole Devil replied, knowing that the second sentence had
been a warning to the Dragoons, but he passed without as much as a
glance in their direction.

On arriving at the mule
train, having found Smith there and learning of Mannen’s problem,
the Texian had wasted no time. Borrowing fresh mounts, he, Tommy,
Smith and fifteen members of Sergeant Maxime’s detail had set out
to give support to his cousin. Reaching the vicinity just as the
major was leading the Dragoons into the hollow and realizing that
they were unaware of his party’s presence, he had gambled upon
Mannen being able to keep the Prussian occupied until he was ready
to take over. From all appearances, the redhead had—as on other
occasions—fully justified his cousin’s faith in him.

“Anything to report.
Mister Blaze?” Ole Devil asked, halting in between von Lowenbrau
and the Dragoons, but looking by the major and still ignoring his
men.

“Everything’s set up ready
for moving as soon as the mules arrive, sir, except for the rifles
you told me to have loaded and held in reserve in case of an
emergency,” Mannen reported, with slightly greater animation than
he had shown so far and using the honorific which he had not
employed when addressing the Prussian. “The major was good enough
to have his men stand watch last night, so I called in our
sentries.”

“
Bueno
,” Ole Devil praised, then
turned his attention to von Lowenbrau. “Thank you. Major. The
safety of this consignment is of the greatest
importance.”

“
You
seem to have been taking its safekeeping lightly,” the Prussian
answered. “I arrived to find you absent and your second-in-command
with insufficient men to ensure its protection. If
that’s—”

“Damn it—!” Beauregard
Rassendyll shouted, filled with indignation at such an unjust
criticism of his friend.

“You’re at attention,
Mister Rassendyll!” Ole Devil interrupted, without taking his eyes
from von Lowenbrau. “It appears that they’ve protected it
adequately regardless of their numbers, Major. May I ask what
brings you hereabouts?”

“I’ve been sent to take
charge of this consignment,” von Lowenbrau replied.

“On whose
orders?”

“
Colonel
Frank Johnson’s. He has given me written
authority—”

“With respect, sir,” Ole
Devil put in, although his tones were far from apologetic, “my
orders come from Major General Houston. They are that I’m to
deliver the arms to him and, unless I receive written instructions
to the contrary from him, that’s exactly what I intend to
do.”

There von Lowenbrau had
it, just as plainly as anybody could have asked for.

Being close enough to hear
the conversation, the Dragoons waited—the majority with bated
breath—to discover what their officer meant to do. They were not
unmindful of the danger to themselves if he tried to enforce his
demand. While outnumbering the contingent from the Texas Light
Cavalry, they offered a better target to the men in the rifle pits
than vice versa.

“
The
primary purpose of an officer is to obey his superior’s orders.
Captain Hardin!” von Lowenbrau pointed out, sharing his men’s
awareness of the situation and playing for time in the hope that he
might find a way to gain ascendancy over the tall, ramrod straight
young Texian. One thing was for sure, unlike his cousin, he would
not be frightened by the prospects of committing mutiny by refusing
to obey.

“Yes, sir,” Ole Devil
replied, chopping off the other’s thought train. “Which is why the
Texas Light Cavalry and other regiments are withdrawing to the east
as General Houston ordered.”

Just as the Texian had
anticipated, from what he remembered of von Lowenbrau’s character
from their meetings, the comment was not well received. No matter
what had caused the Prussian to have “gone to Texas,” he still
retained much of the training which was instilled since his early
childhood.
“Befehl is befehl,”
orders are orders, was the creed by which he had
been raised. So he had never been completely reconciled to serving
Johnson. He was honest enough to admit to himself that loot rather
than patriotism, or even strategy, was the main purpose behind the
proposed invasion of Mexico. What was more, it went against the
commanding general of the Republic of Texas’s Army’s policies and
instructions.

“
And
what does that mean?” von Lowenbrau demanded, his face struggling
to remain as impassive as Ole Devil’s Mephistophelian
features.

“Looky here now!” called
the Dragoons’ sergeant, seeing what he regarded as his opportunity
and appreciating how his words would sound when reported to their
superiors on rejoining the regiment. “All this talk’s fine, but it
ain’t getting us them rifles.”

“
You’re
not having them, hombre,” Ole Devil stated flatly, turning to face
the speaker and seeing how he might turn the interruption to his
advantage.

“
Now you
just listen to me!” Sergeant Benn growled, the Texian’s obvious
disdain causing him to forget that the odds were no longer in his
company’s favor. “We’ve been told by Colonel Johnson to take ’em
and that’s what I’m fixing to do.”

‘You are?” Ole Devil
challenged, noticing that the Prussian was not offering to
intervene and, while guessing why, pleased that he had
not.

“
Me ’n’
these fellers here,” Benn corrected, having understood the
implications of the Texian’s emphasis on the word you” but
oblivious of the consternation being shown by the majority of
“these fellers here.”

“You’ll have to kill all
of W5 first,” Ole Devil warned. “And we’ll try to stop you. And
we’re in a better position to stop you than you are to kill
us.”

“
You
don’t reckon’s them boys back of you’d throw lead us’s is good ’n’
loyal Texians same’s them,” Benn countered. “Now do
you?”

“Hombre!” Sergeant Dale
called, before his superior could reply. “We’d throw lead at our
own mothers happen Cap’n Hardin gave the word and we knowed he was
in the right.”

“Which we-all concludes
he’s in the right just now,” announced a grizzled old-timer from
another pit.

“So, happen you jaspers
want it,” went on the youngest member of Company “C,” in the belief
that he too would be helping out, “just come on ahead and try to
take it from us.”

While Ole Devil had been
delighted by the first two comments, he was less enamored of the
third remark. It was too like a direct challenge and there looked
to be a few equally young hotheads among the Dragoons who, despite
their companions’ appreciation of the danger, would want to pick up
the gauntlet. If that happened, blood was sure to flow and, like
Mannen, he was equally aware of the subsidiary consequences of such
a fight.

“
There’s
no call for men who’re needed to help fight Santa Anna to get
killed,” the Texian pointed out, still keeping his gaze on Benn.
“If you’re so set on having the consignment, hombre, I’ll fight you
for it.”

“
What—?”
gasped the sergeant, conscious of the muted rumble of conversation
to his rear.

“
It
should be plain enough, even for you,” Ole Devil replied dryly,
walking forward. “If you can kill me, just us two, nobody else
involved, Mister Blaze has my orders to give it to
you.”

“Stay put, Major,” advised
Mannen, as von Lowenbrau began to move. “You’ve let it get this
far, now see it through. That way, a whole slew of lives will be
saved.”

Assessing the redhead’s
comment and the situation with a gambler’s cool calculation rather
than an officer’s training, the Prussian knew he was hearing the
truth. Having set the stakes in the game, Hardin would have to face
the consequences. If he lost, his own men would insist that the
forfeit be paid. So von Lowenbrau stood still, allowing the events
to run their course without his participation.

As with the case of most
of his regiment’s non-coms, the sergeant had been promoted through
his connections and toughness rather than military qualities and
intelligence. However, he was smart enough to duplicate his
superior’s summation of how his victory would be
received.

And Benn also knew that
there was only one way in which the prize could be won!

Studying the man who had
made the offer, the sergeant found that he did not care for what he
was seeing.

Although Ole Devil had
never heard the term, he appreciated the psychological effect
produced by his hornlike hairstyle and features in times of
trouble. So he had shoved back his hat and allowed it to dangle on
his shoulders by its
barbiquejo.
Unshaven, haggard from lack of sleep, even
without the savage challenge that it bore, his face had never
appeared more Satanic.

To Benn, whose childhood
religious instruction had instilled a hearty fear for the possible
wrath of the hereafter— although it had been many years since he
last saw the inside of a confession box—it seemed that he was
confronted by Old Nick himself all ready, willing and out-and-out
eager to pitchfork him into a fiery furnace.

“Let’s take—” the sergeant
began, just managing to control a desire to make the sign of the
cross as he had been taught by the Fathers and looking to his rear
in the hope of enlisting support.

“
This is
between just you and I, hombre,” Ole Devil snapped, bringing the
other’s head to the front and ending his words. “So either get down
from that horse and make your play, or turn it and ride out of this
hollow.”

“But—” Benn commenced,
staring as if mesmerized at the Mephistophelian face.

“Count to five. Mister
Blaze,” Ole Devil ordered, still staring with awesome intensity at
the sergeant. “And, hombre, if you haven’t done one or the other by
the time it’s reached, I’ll kill you where you sit.”

“One!” Mannen said, as
soon as his cousin had stopped speaking.

“Hey now—” Benn growled,
realizing the position in which he had been placed.

“Two!” Mannen went on
unhurriedly, but ignoring the interjection.

While the redhead was
counting, he knew without needing to be told what his cousin
wanted. So he did not hurry his words. While Mannen did not doubt
that Ole Devil would carry out the threat, he guessed that the
other would prefer that the need to do so did not arise. So he
intended to give the sergeant time to back off.

Waiting for the count to
continue, Benn considered his position faster than he was used to
thinking. On the face of it, he held the advantage. His rifle lay
across his knees, not yet cocked but more available than any weapon
carried by the empty-handed young man in front of him. However,
even as he was on the point of turning the barrel forward, doubts
began to assail him.

Would Hardin be taking
such a chance unless he was completely confident of
surviving?

Knowing that he personally
would not, the sergeant based his answer upon his own
standards.

If the young Texian had
accepted the risk when making the challenge, he must be certain
that he would win!

“Three!” Mannen drawled,
seeing the perturbation on the sergeant’s face.

Would Hardin kill another
member of the Republic of Texas’s Army?

Ben did not doubt that,
under the circumstances, the answer was “yes!”

“Four!”

Inexorably, if
unhurriedly, the count was going on!

Standing as rigidly as if
waiting to be inspected by the Emperor of Prussia, von Lowenbrau
watched and waited without offering to intercede. Like his
sergeant, he felt certain that Ole Devil would carry out the
threat. Faced by something which was endangering the consignment he
had been entrusted to deliver and aware that it might make all the
difference when the time came for the Texians to make their stand
against Santa Anna’s Army, he would deal ruthlessly with anybody
who tried to stop him.