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Coal Island
Seventy six

Seventy six

Lying in the snow, Robert was protected from the heat of the explosion. Debris rained down around him sparing injury, his only complaint a loss of hearing that robbed the thunder of the explosion from the effects of his work.

Rolling to his back, he watched the flames and smoke strip the snow storm of its potency in the immediate area. He waited for one or both of his enemies to walk from the pyre.

Slowly his hearing returned, and he climbed to his feet, seeking a view of the fire within the gutted walls. Through shattered masonry, Robert could only see the wreckage, finally spotting what might have been a man’s leg covered in flames.

He backed away from the fire, realizing there would be no certain answer to the many questions that had plagued his mind for weeks, but what in life was certain? The older he had grown, the less Robert had possessed certainty.

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Searching the surroundings, he realized he was missing four soldiers. He made a desultory check of the area but knew there would be no men or bodies; there was still one Robber King left on the island.

The Colonel’s hut beckoned. Robert walked uphill and entered the small cabin, brushing snow from the base of the door before he pulled it open.

Pace had never truly occupied the hut, his belongings still in two bags on the floor by the foot of the bed. It was cigars Robert sought; hopefully, the Colonel’s supply remained undisturbed.

He found his treasure in a top drawer of a small dresser next to the fireplace, Robert smiling when he found a supply of matches as well.

He exited the cabin, brushed snow from the Colonel’s chair and sat with his back to the cabin as he watched the warehouse burn. Lighting a cigar, Robert luxuriated in the moment, in the relief of release from guarding his thoughts.

The snow eddying in the light was actually pretty; a good deal of the northlands was enjoyable, natural beauty that was never seen in the south.

The northern lights came easily to mind as Robert waited for his guest.