Benedict and Brazos 15 by E. Jefferson Clay

Author:E. Jefferson Clay [Clay, E. Jefferson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: westerns, heroes, gunfighters, the, Old, west, Piccadilly, publishing, wild, western, ebooks, James, Reasoner, Ron, Schwab
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 2023-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

The firelight painted crimson patterns over Benedict’s lean features as he watched Bandiera ride from sight in the direction of the pass. Some distance off to his right, a fat bandido in a greasy shirt was plucking an old Spanish ballad from a guitar, and a fellow with a surprisingly good tenor voice was singing. Further up the slope, he could see Parada, tall, slender and erect, talking with a runty, bow-legged Mexican who held a bottle in his hand. Beyond the campsite, two mounted bandits were circling the big horse herd that was grazing on the lush, high country grass that covered the basin’s floor.

The chill night air was filled with the music, the murmuring whisper of the wind, the rich greasy smells of Mexican cooking, the breath of distant snows on the high peaks of the Sierra Indios.

Benedict’s roving gaze was caught by movement atop the ridge to the south of the caverns. He watched the powerful figure there as the man paused to light a cigar, but it wasn’t until the bandido moved down the steep slope towards the fires on thick, heavily muscled legs, that he identified Virgil Guardia.

So that was who had been up on the ridge with Bandiera.

Deep thought shadowed Benedict’s eyes as he watched Guardia make his way to a group of squatting men who greeted him boisterously and offered bottles of tequila.

With little else to occupy himself since their arrival at Santa Clara Basin several hours earlier, Parada’s prisoner had taken keen note of his surroundings, absorbing every detail.

Seeing everything with fresh eyes, he’d noted things that might have escaped the attention of the bandidos. What had struck him most forcefully was the fact that not all of the bandit force was delighted to have Parada back safe and sound amongst them; there were some whose reaction to their leader’s return could have been classified as lukewarm at best.

The most noticeably indifferent of this group seemed to be Virgil Guardia. Benedict had noted the powerful Guardia standing off to one side, chewing on a dead match while his companions had flocked around Parada to shake his hand and pound his back. Later, he had seen the big Mexican talking quietly and it seemed to him, grimly, to a small bunch of men who sat apart some distance from the rest. It had been obvious that Parada had been too full of his triumphant return to notice this, but to a desperate man whose survival might depend on the smallest of details, it had seemed significant.

Parada was not a hero to every man here. That was important. And now that Benedict realized it had been Guardia up there on the ridge with the sinister Bandiera while Parada had been addressing his men before his cave, he found himself speculating on the strength of Bandiera’s loyalty to Parada. It seemed to be taken for granted that Parada and Bandiera were dashing leader and devout disciple. But if this were the case, he asked himself,

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