On the Hangman's Trail by Wesley Ellis

Author:Wesley Ellis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2010-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Even though she was worried about Ki, Jessie had her own problems at the moment. The biggest problem she had right then was keeping the General’s desire on a leash. If he touched her, he was dead, she determined, and she’d take her chances, fighting her way out of the palace with every bit of savage determination she could command. She knew Ki and the Captain would come back for her; she only hoped it wasn’t too late when they returned.

A few minutes ago, she had heard the muffled din of weapons fire from beyond the walls of the palace. General Alfredo had sent a soldier out to investigate. It had sounded to her as if a savage but short battle had raged somewhere in the streets of San Pedro.

“I am a man of my word,” the General told Jessie, then sucked down more pulque. “Should a citizen of San Pedro be hurt or killed by this Captain Frederick and his soldiers, then you will see me at my worst.”

Jessie could believe that.

Time dragged. The General obviously wanted to keep the banquet table for himself and his “honored guest,” as he referred to Jessie. Divans and smaller tables were clustered in corners of the hall for the General’s other, obviously less important guests; the American pistoleros, the federales, and the whores. Jessie picked at some food, but she wasn’t really hungry. The General tried to engage her in conversation, but she wasn’t interested in the man or the stories he wanted to tell her about his past feats of bravery in battle. She answered whatever questions he put to her in monosyllabic grunting. He was trying to steer the conversation in the direction of a possible liaison between them. She ignored his sexual overtures, which only seemed to make him more insistent that they “amuse themselves to pass the time,” as he put it. He was a braggart and a drunk, and he disgusted her.

And she also felt the eyes of every man in the room boring into her. The whores regarded her with resentment and jealousy. She expected trouble.

Trouble showed in the form of a white pistolero. He walked up to the banquet table, a bottle in his hand. He was drunk and he leered at Jessie.

“General, seems to me you got all the good stuff right up here,” the pistolero said, slurring his words. “Somehow, that don’t seem quite right. You need to learn how to share the wealth, General.”

“Johnson, I have an honored guest here at my table. Show some respect.”

Jessie tensed as Johnson walked up behind her. He was a tall, skinny gunman with long, stringy hair. He smelled to Jessie as if he hadn’t bathed in years.

“Respect,” Johnson snorted. “She’s just another whore, General. I pay you good money. Least you can do is let me have a little fun with her. All the goddamn whores you got here smell and taste like shit. This gringita here looks like some fine sweet stuff. When I want something, General, I take it.

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