Derelict

The Mighty are Afraid

Chapter Twenty

Her back ached but not as much as her thighs burned. She had long ago forgotten the misery of riding a horse, of the constant tension required to remain planted on the back of the malicious animal. Horses and humans moved in rhythms at odds with each other and she remained convinced it intentionally walked with a gait designed to inflict as much discomfort as possible to any who dared climb onto its back. Bouncing along the road like a bag of rocks, Rison grumbled every step of the way, further irritated that Caddo rode with a natural ease like he had been born in the saddle.

It seemed there was nothing the man did in which he did not excel. And while normally she found this fascinating, today she found his expertise galling.

They pushed the horses as fast as they dared in the brutal heat and Rison could tell Caddo was willing to ride them into the ground in his quest to get to Wyatt. He said nothing that did not need to be said, he just continued to forge ahead with a relentless determination.

The road before them shimmered in the heat, blurring the line between road and sky. Distant hills, barren of any sign of life, rose and fell across the horizon. Rison gazed across the desolation and longed for the comfort of Blanchard Springs where water flowed from deep underground, cool and delicious, where plants and trees grew in abundance surrounding the cavern, nourished by the endless supply of water and lovingly tended by the clan. She wanted to see Wyatt's expression when he first saw the home of the Griff clan. His face would glow with wonder and amazement.

That is, if they could save him, if they could arrive before Rusk let his convoluted sense of devotion to the Mandu overcome what shreds of humanity he had yet remaining. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized what a stretch that was.

An outcropping of rock loomed ahead, just to the side of the road. Caddo walked his horse into the shade and slid from its back, pulling one of the bulging skins free and filling his hat with water. The horses guzzled at the hat, both competing to drink and each pushing the other away to claim the water for their own.

Rison fell from the saddle. That's how she would have described it had she been able to observe her own dismount. Everything hurt and under her breath she cursed the stupid horse and the day it was born.

"Drink some water," said Caddo. His eyes never quit scanning the horizon. She couldn't figure out for what he could be watching. Nothing that couldn't carry water would be able to survive out here.

She pulled the water skin from her own horse and drank. A thin trickle snaked its way down her face and neck and she again found herself longing for the comfort of Blanchard Springs.

"How far ahead do you think the caravan will be?" she asked in between sips.

Caddo held his hand to his eyes and gazed across the landscape. "Not more than a couple of days, I suspect."

"You think Wyatt's gonna be okay? We've got to save him."

He looked at her and a chill crept up her spine. She had seen that same look put fear into many a man who thought they could challenge him.

"He'll be fine as long as Bono does his job."

"Bono?"

He turned back to the horizon and she could see him flash a grin that could only be described as predatory. "Of course. You don't think I'd let the boy go unprotected, do you? How long have you known me and you still don't have a clue, do you?"

She considered adding Caddo to the same category as her horse.

After a moment of grinding her teeth in silent frustration she continued. "And then what? We catch up to the caravan but Wyatt will still be what he is and Rusk will still be what he is."