Holder was following me back up to town; he didn’t say a word but Holder didn’t talk much anyway. He had started out with us being a quiet one and as he settled in, he seemed to get a little more sparing with his words every day. Meaning in truth that he was fine company to keep. As we topped the bluff on the road into to town he pushed his horse to a canter and took the lead, I followed along while marveling at the progress that had been made in my absence.
We now had three large lodge houses with the skeleton of a fourth in progress. The first lodge house was at the top of the bluff and was obviously for the boat crews. The other two and a half were just past the downtown area in what was surveyed to be our town square/park. They were set back about thirty-five yards off of the road and at each end of the square they created there was a decent sized brick building. I was shocked that we actually had brick buildings already, everybody had been busy.
Holder slowed down and started explaining things, “This first building here is the town hall, that’s where we’re going.
“That building down yonder is the Sheriff’s office and Militia headquarters.” He drawled out in his still thick mountain accent. “We’ve even got a little jail cell in there to throw the drunks in at night.” He seemed quite proud of all that had been accomplished. The was even a raised dais in front of the town hall large enough to hold the council table or even a performing music group. My little refugee camp was starting to look like a town.
I reined in Lunch and looked around at all of the progress and just shook my head in amazement, “Damn Holder, y’all did a really good job here.” He looked to almost have blushed under that tan of his and simply turned his horse and dismounted in front of the Town Hall, “They’re all in here, you got here right after we got the news.”
I tied Lunch to the hitching rail, grabbed my bag and followed him inside. Grand it wasn’t, but a solid building it definitely was; utilitarian was the proper descriptor. The back wall had shelves filled with square wicker baskets and all containing papers of various importance, who needs filing cabinets when the idle portion of your populace could weave baskets (even square ones) for you. I saw Mary’s hand in all of this.
The town council and the leadership team were all sitting at our large table, my chair had even been relocated here and stood empty at the head of the table. A mixture of chairs, stools and benches served the rest of the table and there was a wood stove with a pot of coffee or tea steaming away on top of it. Windows provided daylight to assist the lamps on the table and sconces on the wall, the windows didn’t have glass but they had shutters both inside and out.
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Sonya sat at the foot of the table and with the setup she had there I assumed this was where she normally worked, it seemed an effective use of space to me. The room went quiet when Holder and I entered, only to erupt in commotion as soon as Mouse saw me. She leapt from her seat and practically into my arms. Once captured by her everyone else fell upon me like a wolfpack on wounded prey; I was holding Mouse close with one arm and giving half hugs and handshakes with the other.
Once the storm had started to die off I saw one last figure stand up with a little bit of difficulty. It was Matilda and that previously lithe and able woman waddled over to me obviously in some discomfort, she stared at me for a moment then slapped my face – hard. She then gave me a hug and waddled over to the back door which I later found led to the outhouses. Ahh the joys of pregnancy, well that’s what she gets for sneaking into my bed in the middle of the night. My face stung for a good ten minutes after that slap, Matilda doesn’t do anything halfway.
Mouse towed me over to my seat and Michelle plunked a cup of coffee and a bottle down in front of me, something told me I wasn’t going to like this meeting and I was really glad we had stopped last night and came into town fresh. I sat down and poured a dollop into my coffee cup and then sent the bottle on its first round, I lit a cigarette then sat back and said, “Let’s hear it.”
Sheriff took the lead and simply rumbled, “The Kansa are coming.”
He motioned towards Pete who took over from there, “Kansa had a bad hunt this year, too many of their warriors were injured or killed by us in that great battle. Now they will starve in the winter and worry that we will strike them in the spring.”
Well that was ominous.
Pete continued, “Kansa warriors are better now and have raised a raiding party with help of other small bands. They talk too much and brag that they are coming for our herds and our women. Kansa scouts will cross Nemaha river tonight, raiding party the next night to attack in early morning."
He waited a moment and added, “Kansa warriors talk too much, ears are everywhere.”
The table got noisy for a moment and I sat and thought while the discussion went on. There were several steps that needed to be taken and foremost among them was to get fresher intel and get our boats to safety.
I sat forward and slapped the table bringing the conversation to a halt.
"Holder, please fetch Timmons and Amos immediately!”
He rose from his chair to leave but I stopped him mid-stride, “You might need to take a crowbar with you to separate young Amos from his attentive young wife!”
That brought a smiles and titters from the members, breaking the tension somewhat. We had huge advantages in the coming battle but first we needed to get our people and our boats to safety.
But first we needed Amos because we needed eyes in the sky.