“They won’t bother us anymore,” Audie added anyway. He was holding Elizabeth. The little girl was amusing herself by reaching over to tug on Audie’s hair where it stuck out under his broad-brimmed hat. “But the possibility of pursuit from Ozark’s men remains as likely as ever.”

  “So we’d better get movin’ if we’re gonna go on headin’ toward that spot on the map Jonathan Collins left.”

  “Yes, we can still cover more ground today.” Audie frowned in thought. “If fortune smiles upon us, we ought to reach that location late tomorrow.”

  “Let’s ride, then,” Preacher said.

  The strain of everything they had gone through showed plainly on the faces of Annie and Little Bear. Even Audie was starting to look tired, although Nighthawk’s features were as stony and expressionless as always. Preacher put his own weariness aside and set a brisk pace during that day’s travel.

  Nightfall found them camping in a canyon that angled to the northwest, deeper into the mountains. Preacher had recognized the canyon as soon as he saw it, late in the day. He knew it led to a pass that would take them even higher, to the level where they needed to be in order to reach the spot marked on the beadwork map.

  During the day, Nighthawk had dropped back several times to make sure pursuers weren’t closing in on them. Each time, he had reported seeing no sign of Ozark’s men.

  “They’re still back there, though,” Preacher mused the last time Nighthawk had delivered that information, during a brief stop to rest the horses. “I can feel it in my gut, and in my bones, too.”

  “Umm,” Nighthawk agreed.

  Audie was there listening to the conversation while Annie and Little Bear checked on the twins. The former professor said, “Doesn’t it seem as if Ozark’s minions should have at least made an attempt to catch up to us by now?”

  “Seems likely,” Preacher said. “But the fact they haven’t has set a new thought to percolatin’ in my head.”

  “That perhaps they’re not trying to catch up?” Audie said. “They might be content to simply follow us instead until they can figure out where we’re going. Or, failing that, follow us to our destination, whatever it may be, and make their play against us there.”

  “That makes sense,” Preacher said. “And it sure explains why they haven’t jumped us yet.”

  “So, if that’s true, what are we going to do about it?”

  Preacher grinned. “Ain’t much we can do, as far as I can see. But we can’t afford to let our guard down, neither, since we don’t know for sure that’s what they’re plannin’.” He lifted his gaze to look toward the higher mountains to the northwest. “We’ll keep goin’ and play out the hand the way it’s dealt.”

  Their camp that night had an oppressive feeling to it, probably because of the way the canyon walls loomed over them. The thick shadows didn’t help.

  Preacher was tempted to let them have a fire; if Ozark’s men didn’t intend to close in until Preacher and his friends reached their destination, then it didn’t make any difference if the varmints knew where they were.

  But as he had told Audie and Nighthawk, they had no guarantee of that. He’d hate to get this close to where they were going and then make a mistake that would cause them to be captured—or worse.

  Despite the gloom, the night passed without incident. Everyone was still tired the next morning, but a little rest was better than none.

  Audie approached Preacher that morning and said quietly, “Our supplies are getting low. You and I and Nighthawk can live off the land, of course, but I’m not sure the others can. And since we don’t know what we’ll find when we get to this place, we’re going …”

  “It’s a problem, all right,” Preacher allowed. “Chances are, we ain’t gonna find a stockpile of supplies.”

  “I don’t see how that’s likely.”

  “There ain’t no settlements for a long way, either.”

  “Ozark’s compound is the closest we’re going to find in these parts, I’m afraid.”

  “But there are probably some Indian villages where they’d be friendly to us,” Preacher said.

  “Friendly, yes, but would they protect us from Ozark and his band of outlaws?”

  The mountain man shook his head. “Not likely. They’d figure that was a white man’s problem, and it’d be up to us to solve it.”

  “So, eventually, we’re going to have to return to that compound.” Audie’s voice was grim as he reached that conclusion.

  “Yep. But I’m hopin’ by then we’ll have found somethin’ to use as leverage against him. Or there’s one other possibility.”

  Audie looked interested. “What’s that?”

  “All this time we’ve been thinkin’ that Ozark sent a search party after us because that’s what he did when the young’uns disappeared the first time. But he could’ve come along, too, chasin’ us his own self this time instead of leavin’ it to others. When we get where we’re goin’, he could be right behind us, champin’ at the bit for a showdown.”

  “Then, if that’s the case …”

  “I hope it is, because I figure if we kill Mack Ozark, most of our problems go away,” Preacher said.

  The canyon grew narrower as it climbed higher into the mountains. The babies were unhappy because they hadn’t gotten much to eat that morning, and their crying echoed back from the stone walls pressing in from the sides.

  Those echoes mixed with each other in a weird melody that reminded Preacher of Wailing Woman Pass, far back to the southeast, where this adventure had gotten started. That seemed like a long time ago, he reflected, as he listened to the eerie sound. More like months than the mere weeks that had passed.

  In addition, the slope increased. Eventually, it seemed as if they were traveling up a long, narrow ramp with nothing at the top except a cold, gray mountain towering above them.

  “I don’t like this,” Annie said. “It seems like we’re climbing toward … death.”

  From where he rode on the other side of the horse carrying the infants, Audie said, “Think of it as more like we’re climbing toward Asgard.”

  “The realm of the Norse gods?”

  Audie smiled. “I thought you might be well read enough to be familiar with the name.”

  “Yes, I’ve read about it. I’ve read Thomas Gray’s poem ‘The Fatal Sisters’ and Laing’s translation of Snorri Sturluson’s work.”

  Audie looked at her in surprise. “Those volumes of translation by Samuel Laing are very recent. I believe they only came out last year.”

  “Yes, they were among the last batch of books Jonanthan brought me before … before …”

  “It’s all right,” Audie said as her voice trailed off. “I understand. You know about Asgard, then, and the Rainbow Bridge … and Valhalla.”

  “The hall of the dead,” Annie said.

  “I prefer to think of it as the place where heroes celebrate glory to the brave.”

  “Either way,” Annie said, “the hammer falls. The ending is written.”

  Preacher’s keen hearing had picked up enough of the conversation to follow it. He hipped around in the saddle and said, “A while back, I met some real Vikings, and they talked about those things all the time. I don’t reckon there was a one of ’em who was scared to cross that bridge if it was his time … especially if he could cross it with a sword or a battle-axe in his hand.”

  Nighthawk contributed a grunt.

  “Indeed,” Audie said. “Your people sing their death songs as they go into battle because they welcome it, if such is the fate the spirits hold for them on that day.”

  Annie said, “You’re talking about warriors. I’m not a warrior, and neither are my children.”

  “That’s why you have us with you,” Little Bear told her. “We won’t let anything happen to you or the babies.”

  Preacher hoped that was a promise they would be able to keep.

  Before they reached the end of the canyon, the slope became so steep that they had to dismount and lead the horses again. Finally, they made it to the top, and when they did, the view improved slightly. They could see the pass ahead of them, a couple of miles away on the other side of a wooded rise that wasn’t nearly as precipitous as the canyon through which they had just traveled.

  They stopped for a short time to rest and allow the horses a breather, too. Annie took Edward out of his cradleboard sling and said, “I think I’d like to try feeding them again.”

  “We’ll see if we can find something for them,” Audie said.

  Annie’s face reddened slightly as she said, “No, I mean I want to try, well, feeding them. Myself.”

  She looked down at her chest.

  “Oh!” Audie’s face was a little flushed, too. “I didn’t think that was possible once you’d stopped, uh, nursing.”

  “Maybe not, but I’d like to try.”

  Preacher said, “You can go in that brush over there for some privacy, ma’am. Nobody’ll bother you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Annie came back a short time later with the little boy, gave him to Audie, and took Elizabeth into the brush. When she returned, Preacher could tell she was upset.

  “Didn’t have no luck, eh?” he asked.

  “No, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. And at least I tried. That has to count for something.”

  “Yes, ma’am, it sure does,” Preacher agreed.

  They had a little of the mush left. Audie split it between the twins. The adults gnawed on strips of jerky. They had only a few of those, but plenty of game roamed these mountains. Preacher could find some fresh meat for them—assuming things didn’t take a turn for the worse with Ozark.

  Preacher sent Dog ahead to scout before they moved on through the trees. The big cur came back wagging his bushy tail, indicating to Preacher that he hadn’t found anything threatening. They all mounted up and moved on.

  By midafternoon, they reached the pass. Sheer granite cliffs reared up on both sides, towering a hundred feet or more above the trail, which was no more than twenty feet wide.

  Annie shuddered as they rode into the forbidding passage. Preacher understood her discomfort. The air here was cool and clammy. The blue sky was just a narrow line far above them. The place reminded him of a gigantic trap, the jaws of which were poised to slam shut and crush the life out of them.

  Because of that, they felt more relief than they might have otherwise when they emerged once more into the open air. It was only about a mile from one end of the pass to the other and it hadn’t taken them long to ride through it, but to Preacher it felt as if they had been in there a long time. More than likely, it had been even more disquieting for the others, especially Annie and Little Bear.

  Edward and Elizabeth were fortunate in a way, because they would never remember this or any of the other hardships that had befallen them in their short lives so far.

  Preacher, in the lead, reined in at the head of the pass and waited for the others to come up and join him. As they did, Annie said in a hushed voice, “Oh, my. This is lovely.”

  She was right. The landscape that spread out in front of them was beautiful. There was a gentle slope leading down into a parklike high mountain valley, covered with lush grass and dotted with pine trees.

  Beyond the valley, a snow-capped peak rose majestically into the deep blue afternoon sky. White clouds floating in that sky seemed to mirror the snow on the mountain.

  “Is this where that map Jonathan left has been leading us?” Annie went on.

  “Not quite,” Preacher said. He lifted his arm and pointed across the valley at the mountain. “Unless I’ve gotten mighty turned around, the place we’re lookin’ for is over yonder somewhere, part of the way up that mountain.”

  Audie reached into one of his saddlebags, brought out a spyglass, and extended it. He lifted it to his right eye and peered through the lens for a long moment.

  Then he handed the spyglass to Preacher and said, “Look about halfway up, where those outcroppings resemble a human face.”

  Preacher studied the distant slope with his naked eyes for a few seconds to orient himself to what Audie was talking about, then raised the spyglass and used it to take a better look.

  The spot was easy enough to see, especially through the glass. Rocks jutting out from the slope looked like eyes, a nose, and a jagged-toothed mouth. Some clumps of brush even formed eyebrows. It was only a rough resemblance, but close enough to attract attention.

  Preacher could tell that the whole thing was completely natural; nobody had done anything to increase the similarity to a face. It was just one of those striking coincidences that could be found in nature more often than most folks would expect.

  But something about it seemed off to Preacher, so he looked closer. A few more moments of keen study told him that his first assumption was a mistake.

  “I thought that dark spot under the rock that makes the nose was just a shadow,” Preacher said as he passed the spyglass back to Audie. “But it ain’t.”

  “It’s not?” Eagerly, Audie looked through the lens again. “What is it?”

  “It’s the mouth of a cave,” Preacher said.

  “Good heavens, you’re right!” Audie lowered the glass. “Do you think that’s the spot Jonathan Collins marked on that makeshift map?”

  “I got a mighty powerful hunch that it is,” Preacher said. He nodded toward the slope across the valley. “And whatever it is that he wanted somebody to find, it’s right over yonder in that cave.”

  CHAPTER 27

  They took advantage of the opportunity to rest the horses again for a few minutes before starting across the valley toward the snow-capped mountain.

  While they were doing that, Preacher asked Annie, “Your husband never said anything to you about stashin’ anything in a cave?”

  The young woman shook her head. “No, not that I recall. What could it possibly be?”

  Audie said, “The most likely answer is obvious. He could have hidden some of the gang’s loot there. Or was it always share and share alike as soon as the men returned to the compound, or even before?”

  He looked concerned and put a hand on Annie’s arm as he added, “I know these are uncomfortable questions for you to consider. I’m sorry.”

  Annie shook her head and said, “No, I’m fully aware that Jonathan was an outlaw. It won’t do any of us any good for me to deny that or try to ignore it. If we’re going to get through this, we have to be able to speak plainly.”

  She looked back and forth between Audie and Preacher and went on, “Jonathan never divided up the spoils from a raid until everyone was back at the compound. And he was solely responsible for that division.” She swallowed. “So it’s possible that he could have been, well, less than totally truthful about how much was taken.”

  “Did he ever go off on his own without any of the other men?” Audie wanted to know.

  Annie nodded. “He did. He always said that he could think better in the wilderness by himself, and that was where he planned the gang’s next moves.”

  Audie looked at Preacher and said, “That could have been when he visited that cave and hid part of the loot in it.”

  The mountain man nodded.

  “The other fellas were never suspicious of him?” Preacher asked Annie.

  “Some of them were.” Annie made a face. “In fact, that was how Mack Ozark was able to generate the resentful feelings against him. Ozark hinted numerous times that Jonathan wasn’t being completely fair with them. Most of the men didn’t go along with that—they liked Jonathan and respected his leadership—but enough of them felt that way, obviously, and eventually that led to his downfall.”

  “So if Jonathan was keeping more than his share,” Audie mused, “there could be a considerable amount of money and other valuables hidden up there.”

  “There could be a small fortune,” Annie admitted.

  Preacher said, “That sounds like somethin’ Ozark would want to get his hands on. If he had any idea that your husband had hidden a clue to the location in that map, it’d make those blankets important enough for Ozark to want ’em back. He made it seem like he was more interested in the young’uns, though, because he didn’t want the others knowin’ about that cache.” The mountain man nodded slowly. “It sure seems like we might be onto somethin’. There ain’t but one way to find out, though.”

  “Umm,” Nighthawk said.

  “You’re right, my friend,” Audie said. “We have to go up there to that cave and find out.”

  The horses had rested long enough while they were talking. They mounted up again and Preacher led the way down the slope into the beautiful valley.

  Audie moved up alongside him and said quietly, “A man could settle down in a place like this and spend the rest of his days just enjoying all the splendor around him.”

  “I reckon so, but it could get a mite lonesome after a while if he was here all by his own self.”

  “Yes, to be truly happy, most men need a … companion.”

  “Like a wife,” Preacher said with a grin.

  “Well, yes, I suppose that would be the best arrangement.”

  “A fella would have to have somebody he could get along with, though. Somebody he had somethin’ in common with. Like, say, if he was an hombre who enjoys readin’ books, it’d probably be a good idea if the gal he got hitched to liked that, too.”

  Audie looked over at Preacher with a frown and said, “That’s just common sense. What are you—” He stopped short, and his eyes widened. He glanced back over his shoulder. “What are you suggesting? Surely you don’t think that I should—I mean—with Mrs. Collins?”

  “She’s a widow woman,” Preacher pointed out. “She’s young enough, though, that she’s likely to want to find another husband one o’ these days. You and her seem to enjoy talkin’ to each other and spendin’ time in each other’s company, and you been workin’ side by side with her takin’ care of those infants. You’re a mite attached to them, too.”

  “Everything you say is true, Preacher, but for heaven’s sake, I’m much too old for her!”

  “She might think of it more like you bein’ seasoned and experienced. Some gals like it when the fella they’re with is older and wiser.”