Beyond Fort Mims by Lauran Paine

Author:Lauran Paine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
Published: 2017-10-17T20:28:05+00:00

Chapter Nine

Stalemate

Davy had a choice—run to the road and signal for the cavalcade to halt, or lie behind this deadfall tree until the renegade scouts appeared. The decision was made for him when the bear-built scout appeared out of the gloom. If Davy jumped up and raced toward the road, a renegade could easily shoot him in the back.

The second scout appeared. They halted, facing in the direction of the road where wagon sounds were clearly audible even through the forest.

Davy was not going to be able to reach the road but he had an opportunity to do something that might provide a warning to the wagoners and their soldier escort.

He settled Betsy atop the deadfall, took careful aim, and fired. Pipe Smoker’s old leather hat took wing like a wounded bird and disappeared among the trees. Both scouts dropped. One said, “Yonder’s the smoke,” and fired his rifle. It was a clean miss. As this scout settled around to reload, his hatless companion took long aim, which provided Davy with enough time to roll clear so that when the musket ball struck punky wood the man who had shot from behind the log was two yards away.

There were startled shouts from the roadway, but Davy’s warning had brought other renegades in an angry rush.

They had been anticipating a successful ambush since the previous evening, and, although they had no idea who had fired the first shot, they wanted to find him. He had destroyed their element of surprise.

Davy had no time to reload. He scuttled northward until he had sufficient forest cover, then got to his feet and ran, dodging around trees, heading for the roadway, fully aware of the danger. Renegades would be ahead where they had infiltrated the forest.

He was swerving to avoid a big wood rat’s nest when a man on the far side shoved out his leg. Davy saw the obstacle too late.

As he fell, the renegade scrambled to his feet and leaped with his sheath knife raised. Davy rolled, fetched up against a large rock and so could roll no farther, and swung his rifle. The renegade took the blow in the middle and briefly staggered. Before Davy could get clear of the boulder, the renegade jumped at him, slashing with his knife.

Davy felt the cut. It was as if he’d been branded with a hot iron. He closed with the knife wielder, who was a tall, sinewy individual with pale eyes and a gash for a mouth.

Davy blocked the descending knife hand, rolled the man half over, and straddled him. His antagonist was strong. The knife had been halted in the air but its descent seemed inexorable regardless of how hard Davy fought to stop it.

The renegade’s breath hissed out as he fought to dislodge Davy. Cords stood out in his neck. Davy struck the renegade with his fist. He might as well have struck rock. The renegade blinked and fought like a tiger. Davy leaned, got his forearm across the man’s throat, and bore down as hard as he could.

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