The Wild Hunt (A Claw Western #3) by Matthew Kirk

Author:Matthew Kirk [Kirk, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Angus Wells, Edge, George G. Gilman, Spaghetti westerns, Western ebook, Western series, Wild West
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 2022-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

Time passed slowly, the shadow thrown by the saguaro gradually shortening until he calculated one hour had gone by. He climbed to his feet, staring off to the north. The badlands were a faint blur in the distance, dark through the shimmering heat haze. He could see no sign of movement, and he thought of rejoining the column. Then he decided to wait a spell longer, cold sense overcoming his impatience: if the Apaches were trailing the cavalry, he would stand a better chance backed by the troopers.

He hunkered down again, staring northwards.

More minutes dragged slowly past. The air got hotter, the sky empty of cloud, marked only by the black specks of wheeling buzzards. Wyatt got back on his feet, deciding that he had given Tyree long enough. That maybe the hostiles had given up.

And he saw them coming through the shifting light.

Over the distance they were no more than a dark line moving steadily south against the yellow of the sand. Individual details were impossible to pick out, but it had to be the war party from the badlands. He waited longer, calculating their numbers as he wondered why they were not moving faster. There were around thirty, he decided, and they weren’t hurrying the way he expected. It looked more like they were taking their time, intent only on keeping pace with the column, rather than start a running fight.

And they were spread out. Almost like drovers herding cattle.

He loosened the paint stallion’s legs and watched the animal lurch upright. When he climbed into the saddle and heeled the horse to a gallop southwards, he had to be visible to the Indians. But they didn’t come after him.

He tried to understand it as he rode after the column. It didn’t seem to make any kind of sense: if the hostiles wanted guns, they should be chasing at full speed. Seeing a galloper take off in front of them should have brought a few out in pursuit, hoping to catch him before he could give warning. But there was no pursuit. The line of horsemen just kept on moving at the same relentless pace, ignoring him as though they were confident of taking him in their own time.

He remembered Kincannon’s words about Salvaje’s tactics: Salvaje ain’t yore usual renegade.

Damn right, he thought. What kind of crazy game are they playing?

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