Shoshone Summer: Stonecroft Saga Book Eight by Rundell B.N

Author:Rundell, B.N.
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-64734-054-4
Publisher: Wolfpack Publishing
Published: 2020-08-12T00:00:00+00:00

Ezra allowed Gabe the short lead time, then started on the trail over the saddle of the ridge. Cougar Woman and Black Dog followed, but once at the bottom and at the edge of the long flat, Cougar Woman and Black Dog separated, and watching the moon and the clouds, slowly moved when the moon was covered, always at a crawl and staying as low as possible, using the sage and rabbit brush for cover. As they neared some sage, both cut several thick branches to use as cover, for their approach would be in the open with little other brush to shield their approach.

Ezra hugged the steep talus slope, choosing every hump, contour, and tree or shrub for cover. He had removed his tunic, and carried his war club across his chest, always at the ready. His pistol weighed heavy in his belt, his tomahawk and knife close to hand at his hips. There was the line of trees that hugged the end of the talus and shielded him from the camp, but he took advantage of every shadow, every bush, and moved as quiet as a lynx on the hunt. His moccasined feet padded silently as he picked his steps carefully, then dropped behind a low growing juniper as he neared the camp. He was on one knee, unmoving, as he searched the entire camp and the edge and tree line for the guard. He peered into the deep shadows, searching, watching, and slowly began to make out the form of a man standing, leaning against the white bark of an aspen. He had chosen the nearest tree, unmindful of how the bark would make him noticeable, thinking only of comfort during his long watch. He did not think of someone watching him, for he was the watcher, looking for those that might attack the camp or those within the camp that might try to flee. But that assumption was his downfall.

Ezra watched the leaning man, saw him slowly slide down the tree trunk and sit at its base, leaning back against the smooth trunk. Ezra scanned the area around, saw no easy approach, and knew he would be exposed if he started for the man. He could only hope the guard was snoozing as he started from his cover. Staying close to the trees and brush, no quick moves, Ezra glanced occasionally to the camp, and moved toward the guard. He hung the war club at his back, slipped his knife from the scabbard at his waist, and dropped into a low crouch as he came from behind the brush. Still he moved slowly, feeling his steps, and was within striking distance when the guard came awake, looked up at the knife flashing in the moonlight, and started to shout, emitting a gurgling cry as the knife slipped between his ribs and Ezra’s hand covered his mouth. But the guard was strong and kicked, jerked his face to the side and opened his mouth to shout, but

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