Shadow of the Eagle Read online

  He feared that if he surrendered to sleep, when he woke up he would no longer remember recent events, so he fought to stay awake, but his eyes closed. A timeless period later a man came closer and stood over him.

  The man frowned and he resembled the man who had examined Boyd’s body outside the saloon earlier. Gideon was no longer lying in his cell although he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. A part of him told him this was a dream, but he felt no urge to wake up.

  “You’ve got two slugs in you, but I’ve never lost a man and I don’t intend to start with you,” the doctor said.

  “I’m obliged, Doctor Wainwright,” Gideon said sleepily and when the man smiled confirming he’d identified him correctly, in his dream he closed his eyes.

  He felt at ease, even though he could hear the doctor moving around and clinking metal objects together. In his dream he let sleep claim him. Some time later he opened his eyes. It was now dark and he was back in his cell.

  The dream of the doctor helping him felt as unreal and as distant as his dreams usually did, but unlike with others dreams he didn’t struggle to recall the details. Even better, he could still remember the gunfights and the appearance of the double eagle in the sky, and that meant they couldn’t have happened in a dream either.

  “DOES THAT FEEL BETTER?” Doctor Wainwright asked, stepping back from Gideon’s cot.

  “It does,” Gideon said. He fingered around the bump on the back of his head and found that whatever the doctor had done, his head no longer felt so sore.

  “Sheriff Osbourne says you were feeling strange earlier.”

  “I was.” Gideon rubbed his jaw. “In fact I still am. I remember things differently than what the sheriff says happened.”

  Wainwright shrugged, appearing as disbelieving of this story as Osbourne had done.

  “Knocks to the head can do strange things to a man. Just rest up tonight and if you still feel strange in the morning, I’ll see you again.”

  Wainwright turned to the cell door and craned his neck as he tried to gather Osbourne’s attention.

  “I’ll do that and I’ll stop worrying. After all, you’ve never lost a man and I’m sure you don’t intend to start with me.”

  His repeating of the words that he’d heard the doctor utter in his dream made Wainwright flinch and turn to him.

  “Have we met before?”

  “Not that I know of. I only arrived in Empire City around noon.”

  “So how do you know I always say that?”

  “Until just now, I didn’t.” Gideon stood up, but when Wainwright edged away from him he backed away to the cell bars, making Wainwright relax. “Tell me, could you save a man who had been shot twice in the chest?”

  Wainwright frowned and then rubbed his jaw, his skepticism about his story clearly battling with his professional obligation to help someone in need.

  “It’s impossible to answer that without examining the man, but I’ve helped men survive worse injuries than that and I’ve seen men die from far more minor wounds.”

  “And you’ve never helped me after I’d been shot twice in the chest?”

  “No. I’ve never seen you before.” Wainwright moved closer. “The only man I’ve tried to help recently who had been shot twice in the chest was Boyd Macardle.”

  “Boyd was only shot the once.”

  Wainwright narrowed his eyes, his resolute expression suggesting that for the first time he was seriously thinking that he might not be feigning his confusion.

  “If you’re not lying, it sounds as if right now you really are remembering things differently than what happened. I feel sure that’ll pass.”

  Gideon doubted that, but he offered Wainwright a placating smile so the doctor gestured at Osbourne to let him out of the cell.

  “I hope so.” Gideon sat down and rubbed fingers through his hair. He didn’t speak again until the sheriff had put a key to the cell door. “While you were outside the saloon examining Boyd, what did you think about the strange cloud in the sky?”

  Wainwright frowned. “I examined Boyd in the saloon and I didn’t see any strange clouds today.”

  Gideon shrugged. “Perhaps you did examine him in there and perhaps you didn’t see anything strange in the sky. After all, I seem to be remembering things differently to what happened.”

  Wainwright nodded, although Osbourne snorted as he held the cell door open. When the doctor had slipped outside and he’d clanged the door shut, he walked to the office door with Wainwright.

  At the door they talked quietly, and Wainwright gestured at the cell several times while shrugging suggesting he was at least not discounting Gideon’s story. Once Wainwright had left the office, Osbourne came over to the cell and frowned, as if he were trying to decide something, but he didn’t ask him any further questions.

  He returned to his desk where he sat back with his hat drawn down over his eyes. Presently his deputy, Howie Troughton, arrived and took over the duty of minding the law office. Troughton didn’t speak to him so Gideon tried to sleep, but he failed.

  His earlier sleep had rested him and he figured it was still early evening as sounds of revelry drifted to him from down the main drag. The noises were sufficiently lively to make Troughton go to the window several times and when a distant gunshot sounded he opened the door.

  With a satisfied grunt he dismissed the matter and turned to head back inside. A dull thud sounded and Troughton groaned. He stumbled a pace into the office before dropping to his knees and then keeling over on to his chest.

  Gideon got up off his cot and hurried to the front of the cell as a man slipped inside. This man stayed hunched over and turned away from him as he dragged Troughton aside and then closed the door. The newcomer went to the window before turning to Gideon.

  “Have you spent enough time in that cell?” he asked.

  Gideon rubbed his jaw as he weighed up the potential problems that breaking out of jail would give him against the chances of him being on the receiving end of rough justice.

  “Sure,” Gideon said and then pointed out where the cell keys were hanging.

  The man hurried across the office and collected the keys. Then in short order and while working quietly he opened Gideon’s cell. While Gideon’s savior returned to the door and checked it was quiet outside Gideon kneeled beside Troughton and confirmed he was breathing calmly.

  Then he headed to the door and followed his savior’s directions. They slipped outside and with their backs to the wall they edged along keeping to the shadows. When they’d moved away from the law office and reached the bank, they stopped acting cautiously and walked on in a natural manner.

  As they were heading for the stable Gideon delayed asking questions, but then another round of distant gunfire sounded. It appeared to be coming from the opposite end of town, but the man still drew his gun. Nobody else was visible outside, but he still ushered Gideon into the shadows beyond the bank.

  “I don’t think that gunfire had anything to do with us,” Gideon said.

  “Perhaps it didn’t,” the man said. “But Sheriff Osbourne will either be wondering why Deputy Troughton hasn’t come to help out, or he’ll have prisoners, so he’ll find out what I did before long.”

  “Which is all the more reason to get out of town quickly.”

  The man rubbed his jaw. “Maybe you’re right. Perhaps I should end this quickly.”

  Despite his comment, the man still didn’t move so Gideon stood before him.

  “I’m obliged for what you did, but I still don’t know why you did it or who you are.”

  “The name’s Joshua Macardle.” He waited until Gideon registered the significance of his reply with a wince and then snapped up his gun to aim it at Gideon’s head. “Boyd was my brother and only I can deliver proper justice for what you did to him.”

  Gideon faced Joshua. “I didn’t kill your brother. Warner Gray did it.”

  “I know Boyd came to Empire City to find someone, but everyone says it was you
who killed him.” Joshua raised the gun a mite. “Have you got anything else to say before you get what Boyd got?”

  “I don’t know what I can say to stop you pulling that trigger. I couldn’t convince the sheriff or the doctor that I’m innocent, as I seem to remember everything differently to what others say happened. As far as I can remember it, Warner shot Boyd when your brother challenged him to a showdown in the First Chance saloon. I followed Warner outside aiming to kill him, but then there was this distraction.”

  Joshua tensed his gun arm. “What distraction?”

  Gideon sighed, figuring that repeating the truth as he remembered it was his only chance of earning a reprieve, even if it was unlikely that Joshua would believe him.

  “This golden cloud that looked like a double eagle appeared in the sky.”

  Joshua flinched. Then, after a moment’s thought, he lowered his gun.

  “Perhaps I should postpone shooting you until later, after all,” he said.

  Chapter Five

  GUNFIRE WAS STILL RATTLING away in the distance and the sounds of a commotion were coming closer, but that didn’t hold Gideon’s attention as much as Joshua’s lowered gun.

  “You believe me about the double eagle in the sky?” he asked.

  “I don’t know yet,” Joshua said. “Perhaps you only heard Boyd ranting about it, but I’m prepared to hear you out.”

  “Boyd saw it?” Gideon spluttered, his surprise making Joshua nod, as if his reaction had bolstered his case.

  “Just before the end, he told me that he once saw a strange golden object in the sky. I didn’t believe him, but something must have happened to him because he never talked sense again.”

  “But he still joined the hunt for Warner Gray?”

  “He didn’t tell me the name of the man he was after.” Joshua sighed. “Boyd was a railroad engineer. He and his friends were enjoying a drink in the saloon in Kendall’s Pass when a gunman came in and splayed bullets around. Boyd only survived because he fell over and knocked himself out. As he was the only one to survive, he swore an oath to get even.”

  “When did he see this object in the sky?”

  “He said they all saw it earlier that day. That’s what they were talking about just before they were killed.”

  “So perhaps Warner killed them because they saw it,” Gideon mused.

  Joshua shrugged. “I don’t see why he should do that.”

  Another gunshot sounded in the dark, this time closer than before.

  “Neither do I, but it sounds as if last year something strange appeared in the sky and afterward Warner killed most of the people who saw it. Now I reckon I saw something strange and there’s a whole lot of shooting going on.”

  “Except I’ve not heard nobody here talk about strange things in the sky, and I’ve heard nobody talking about Warner either.”

  “Warner had three men with him. They might be behind the shooting.”

  Joshua edged closer to the main drag and then winced. People were moving out of the First Chance saloon in an agitated state.

  “Boyd said that he thought the killer had three accomplices. He called them the Shadow Riders.”

  Gideon wondered where he’d heard this term before. Then he snorted.

  “The same name as the gunmen in the stories about Liberty?”

  “The same.”

  Gideon struggled to find a reply, as he’d never thought that Warner’s actions in Kendall’s Pass might be connected to the gunfight in Liberty. The one thing he did know for sure was that it was often said that Liberty had been forged with gunfire and it had died with gunfire.

  Six years ago five prospectors struck it lucky while exploring an outcrop of rock to the north of Diamond Springs. The outcrop was a popular place to visit as it had fascinated people ever since the discovery of a rock-carving of an eagle on the summit.

  The work was intricate and lifelike and as the statue had yet to weather, it must have been made recently. Nobody knew who had carved it, but the outcrop had been named Eagle Heights.

  This time, what lay beneath the rock gathered the prospectors’ attention, but the friends soon quarreled over the gold they dug up. They turned on each other and only man, Thomas Gaunt, survived to return to Kendall’s Pass and stake his claim.

  It didn’t do him any good as the claim-grabber Emerson Hall soon seized control from him. Emerson set up the Eagle Heights gold mine and founded the town of Liberty. He employed as many miners as he employed guards to control the miners and ensure he maximized his profits.

  After the way the original prospectors had fallen out many reckoned the mine was cursed, but for a while it was successful. There was talk of the railroad heading to Liberty, but despite Warner’s efforts to stop it, in the end the project was abandoned for more practical reasons when, after the initial success, the seams dried up.

  Tensions grew and arguments raged between Emerson’s men and the miners culminating six months ago in a terrible night of violence that left fifty men dead, both miners and guards alike. Nobody was ever found responsible for the deadly gunfights that were waged that night, so wild stories filled the gaps, some of which were clearly just tales to pass around a campfire at night, while others hinted at the truth.

  The legends that grew up avoided placing blame on Emerson or the miners and instead spoke of a mysterious band of men who had ridden out of the mine to lay waste to anyone in their path. These men had killed from the shadows and when they had completed their dark deed, they had returned to the shadows, earning them the name of the Shadow Riders.

  The truth was probably more straightforward. With the riches many hoped to make failing to materialize, those that had lost the most were angry and they took out their anger on others. Afterward, the killers had slunk off and avoided justice.

  “Why would the men who could have been involved in those terrible events be helping Warner?” Gideon asked.

  “I don’t know, and Boyd never explained,” Joshua said.

  Joshua turned to him, his eyes troubled, but with it no longer looking as if he’d shoot him immediately and with the need to move on growing, Gideon reckoned he’d heard enough details for now. Outside the saloon, most people had now turned toward a hotel several buildings away. Gideon reckoned they could leave town without going past the hotel, but he dismissed that plan with a determined shake of the head and turned to Joshua.

  “Nobody but me remembers seeing something in the sky, or for that matter remembers seeing Warner shoot your brother, but I reckon some people did see more than they’ve remembered and their lives are in danger.”

  Joshua’s eyes were still troubled, but he mustered a brief nod.

  “We need to track down those people. Do you know anyone who you’re sure saw this double eagle?”

  “The doctor should have seen it as did the undertaker.”

  Joshua frowned and then with a kick at the ground as if he’d made a decision he pointed at a building between them and the stable.

  “Bartholomew Grant’s the undertaker and I saw his workshop earlier. Come on.”

  With that they hurried on. As it turned out Bartholomew was already standing outside his workshop while rubbing his hands in expectation of more business.

  “It’s a busy night indeed,” he said as they approached.

  “Hopefully it won’t be,” Joshua said.

  “Unfortunately it already has been.”

  Bartholomew frowned at Gideon as if he was sure he’d met him before but he wasn’t sure where.

  “I know all about Boyd Macardle’s demise,” Gideon said cautiously hoping to alleviate Bartholomew’s concern.

  Bartholomew sighed, seemingly dismissing the matter of whether he recognized him.

  “If only it’d have ended with Boyd.”

  Bartholomew moved to go back in his workshop, but Gideon raised an arm and blocked his way.

  “Who else has died today?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I’m wor
ried that your life might be in danger, so I need you to help me so I can help you.”

  “Like I said: why do you care?”

  Gideon frowned, but the debate had already irritated Joshua and with a grunt he pushed past them both and headed into the workshop. Bartholomew shrugged and then followed him inside, and when Gideon traipsed in after them the sight of Bartholomew’s latest reluctant customer made him come to a sudden halt.

  Lying on a table beside Boyd’s body was Doctor Wainwright’s body. Joshua also stopped, although presumably due to the sight of his brother.

  “That man is Boyd, my brother,” Joshua said making Bartholomew’s aggrieved expression soften. “Take good care of him, and I’ll pay for the best you can do for him.”

  “I always give my customers the best.” Bartholomew backed away with his head bowed letting them approach the bodies.

  Gideon gave Joshua a few moments of quiet and then pointed at Wainwright’s bloodstained jacket, the blood still bright and damp.

  “When was the doctor killed?” he asked.

  “There was gunfire around ten minutes ago. Sheriff Osbourne brought him here, but before he could explain what happened there was more gunfire and he ran off.” Bartholomew frowned. “Are you saying you know who did this?”

  “I reckon so. Some men are killing everyone who was near the First Chance saloon today when Boyd was shot.”

  Gideon reckoned mentioning the apparition in the sky would only weaken his explanation if, like the doctor, the undertaker didn’t remember seeing it, and it appeared to work as Bartholomew jutted his jaw.

  “Doc Wainwright got to Boyd before me, but he was already dead. I don’t reckon Boyd said anything before he died and he didn’t have anything valuable on him.”

  “And you didn’t see anything?”

  “No, so nobody should be hunting down those who were there.” Bartholomew narrowed his eyes. “Those men include you. You were lying on the ground outside the stable.”

  Bartholomew sighed as he pieced together the situation. Unfortunately he must have formed the pieces into the wrong shape as his mouth fell open in shock.