Devon Monk - Cold Copper

“Where did you get these?”

“Some from the church, some from the Madders’ supplies,” Mae said. “I took you and Wil to the church first. Miss Dupuis met me there and told me the news. I assumed we’d need guns to work our way out of this.”

“You are a practical woman,” Cedar said with a smile.

“I can hold my own in a pinch.”

“They’re set to hang at noon?” Cedar asked.

“Yes,” Miss Dupuis said. “We have a few hours.”

“And no plan.” Cedar rubbed his face again. Hunger and a lingering ache were stealing his thoughts away. He needed food. “Do we have water?”

“Yes,” Mae said. “I’m sorry, Cedar. I should have told you that first. I brought you some food.” She walked around the front of the wagon and returned with a saddlebag. He could smell the hardtack and jerked meat even through the leather.

“I didn’t have time to make anything,” she said, opening the bag.

“It’s fine,” Cedar said. “More than fine.”

Mae handed him the bag. His hands were shaking from the hunger, but he managed to chew before he swallowed. Mae also gave him a canteen of cold water in which she had steeped some dried tea leaves. It was a humble meal, but more than a feast for his needs.

He saved half the meat and water for Wil, but finished all the hardtack, which he knew Wil wouldn’t eat in wolf form.

His hunger temporarily abated, he went through the things at their disposal: guns, dynamite, the wagon, horses.

“Maybe in the middle of the night,” Cedar said, “we’d have a chance. But to break them out in broad daylight, just the three of us, and somehow make it to the wagon with an injured man, and then get out of a town this size without being stopped…I don’t know.”

“Perhaps Wil could be a distraction?” Miss Dupuis suggested. “A wild wolf in the middle of town is sure to draw attention. And the law.”

Wil must have heard his name. He lifted his head, then stood and stretched. He walked to the end of the wagon. He didn’t step outside of the shadowed interior, but he was listening now.

Cedar quickly repeated the situation with the Madders and Father Kyne, and told him Miss Dupuis’s suggestion.

“You could get into the jail,” Cedar said, “lure out the lawmen. We could go in behind you, take out anyone else who was left, then get Kyne and the Madders out. We’ll need to have the wagon close by for Father Kyne, and once we’re out of that jail, we will need to leave town as fast as we can.”

“It seems our best chance,” Miss Dupuis said.

“There is one other thing,” he said. “I know where the Holder is.”

“What?” Miss Dupuis said. “Where?”

“In the river not too far from here. At the bottom of the river under ice,” he clarified.

They were silent a moment, and Miss Dupuis closed her eyes and whispered something in her native French.

“You must retrieve it,” she said.

“It’s under ice.”

“But you must. If it falls into the wrong hands, the world will suffer.”

“Maybe the world’s going to have to suffer a bit until spring. The lives of our traveling companions and Father Kyne are more important than a piece of a weapon no man can reach.”

“Men will reach it,” she said. “Men always do. The Holder must be contained.”

“Not before we save the Madders.”

She took a breath, held it, then said, “I believe they would think otherwise.”

“Well, then, they can tell me I’m wrong while I’m dragging their hides out of this town and away from the gallows strung up for three.”

“They will come with us if we break them out, won’t they?” Mae asked Miss Dupuis.

Miss Dupuis shrugged. “I have known the brothers Madder for many years. But I still do not understand their ways. There is one thing I am certain about, however. They will risk anything, and anyone, to see that the Holder is gathered up and securely, permanently locked away.”

Cedar started around to the driver’s side of the wagon. “Well, we’re about to tell them they’re going to risk leaving it behind. Let’s get this done.”

“Mr. Madder?” Rose said. She walked to the farthest side of the cell bars so she could look down the hall toward where she’d heard his voice.

At the end of a hall was another cell. And standing with one elbow resting on a crossbar, holding several playing cards, was Alun Madder.

Rose had never been so happy to see him in her life.

“What trouble have you gotten yourself into now, Rose Small?” he said with a smile and a wink. “Always knew you were a spirited woman.”

“Trespassing, apparently,” she said. “Do you know they mean to hang you? You and your brothers?”

He nodded. “Building a gallows in our honor, I’m given to understand. Did you come in alone?”

“No, Captain Hink is with me, and a Mr. Thomas Wicks.”

“Wicks?” Alun said. “Thin fellow, curly hair, tends toward bowler hats and books?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“We’ve made acquaintance.”

She couldn’t tell by his tone of voice whether they had met on good or bad circumstances, but made a note to herself to ask him, if they ever got out of this place.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Came into town two nights ago. And were thrown in jail yesterday morning or so.”

Bryn Madder and Cadoc Madder both walked up to the bars and gave her a wave.

“Good to see you, Miss Small,” Bryn said.

“Hello,” Cadoc added.

“Hello,” Rose replied. “Why did they throw you in jail?”

“That’s a long story,” Alun said. Then, to Bryn, “It has been a full day and night now. I suppose that’s long enough for Hunt to find what we’re looking for, don’t you think, brothers?”

“Should be,” Bryn agreed. “Cadoc?”

Cadoc stared at the ceiling. “Lots of cracks in that mortar.”

“There is, isn’t there?” Alun said. “Rose, you’ll want to stand back a bit.”

“Rose!” one of the other prisoners called. “Is that your name, sweetheart? When I make bail, I’ll come and get you and show you what a man can do for a woman.”

“Or at least as much a man can do with a broken neck,” Hink said placidly.

That got all the men in the cells riled up, and threats, the like she’d never heard before, sprinkled with more than a little blue language, filled the air.

Rose ignored the taunts and whistles, and moved away from the bars of her cell as the Madders had told her.

But the noise brought the lawman back to the hall. No, not just the lawman, the sheriff himself.

“What’s all the racket back here?” He ran a nightstick against the other prisoners’ bars, then headed down the rest of the hall. “You.” He pointed at the Madders. “Stand away from the bars and shut your yaps.”

Rose could hear the scuff of the Madders’ boots as they each took one step backward.

“I said get away from the bars.”

“You know, Sheriff,” Alun said conversationally. “These bars are pretty strong. Solid steel. Good quality too; the mayor does not disappoint. I don’t think even three men could break them down.”

“However,” Bryn added. “Stone is another matter.”

“A Madder matter,” Cadoc echoed.

“Don’t make me shoot you, gentlemen,” the sheriff said. “Mayor would hate for you to bloody up the new gallows before your necks snap.”

“There’s no need for guns,” Alun said.

Rose snuck up to the front of her cell again. The sheriff had walked past her cell and was standing just out of arm’s reach in front of the Madders’ cell.

Just as she’d thought, each brother had stepped away from the bars. As a matter of fact, Bryn and Cadoc were even farther back in the cell, each of them leaning one hand against the stone wall there, as if loitering in front of a saloon.