Chandler rode at a slow pace. He wasn’t in a hurry, and he didn’t feel the need to tire his horse out. It had served him well over the years, and he liked to think that he did a good job of taking care of it when he could.
He decided to bypass the mining camp. He didn’t want any problems with the miners, and he didn’t have a reason to stop there. It was best for all concerned if he kept riding and didn’t have to break some idiot’s face for him.
Chandler knew there was something inside of him that wouldn’t shy away from trouble. He had decided long ago that he didn’t need to look for it. It would always find him wherever he went.
It was the burden of being the King. You lived life after life after life but they weren’t peaceful lives where you died in bed surrounded by the family that you helped create. Instead you took on one last stand and died in a blaze of glory until you were born and found your sword again.
Chandler spotted the tents and cabins of the mining town off to his right. He kept an eye on it as he rode up stream from Last Stop. He doubted any one miner would load up his wagon to come out and ask him questions, but he didn’t want to deal with that if they did.
The King watched the ground ahead after he safely passed the miner camp. He was sure that whatever was blocking the water would give something to him as a warning. He doubted a giant beaver had dammed up the river flow.
Of course, it could be a giant beaver. He had seen enough examples of weird things in the world not to rule it out.
And he had never seen a beaver that could take a bullet and walk away.
He found traces of the posse from Last Stop after a few more hours of riding. They had set up camp a few days ago north of the mining camp. They had pressed on the day after from the signs.
That looked good. The group had been able to ride on without problems. He might find them trying to deal with the blockage if he kept on their trail. Once the water started flowing, they could return to Last Stop as heroes.
How far did they have to travel upstream before they found the problem?
Chandler thought he might find them in a few more days of riding. They hadn’t seemed to be in that much of a hurry. He wasn’t either.
He figured to take a job on a wagon train heading into California if he caught up with the posse and nothing was going on. The pay was decent, and people needed a scout to lead them along.
Chandler briefly considered what he would do when he reached California. There were ships to China. Maybe he could sail on one of those to another land. He felt that one of his other lives had walked through that continent at one point, or another.
He might have crossed the world thousands of times just in being reborn every time he died.
Too bad it left him with a hazy memory of lives long abandoned.
He decided to put it out of his mind for the present. He could look back on his lives when he settled in for some shuteye. Dreams allowed him to do that much when he couldn’t quite grasp things when he was awake.
He could check on places he had been. If China had been one of those places in a former life, he could try for some other continent where he had never been. He didn’t mind that at all.
He wondered if that was an effect of his unique being for the millionth time. He decided it didn’t matter. If he felt like traveling, then he could travel as long as he had a way to get around.
Chandler realized that he had ridden miles while thinking of the future. He supposed that was what happened when you were all alone in the middle of nowhere. He decided his horse needed a rest if they were going to keep riding north.
He had automatically followed the signs of the riders from Last Stop as he traveled. He was pleased about that. They had kept going past where he was stopping his own ride.
He might catch up with them if they slowed any. If that happened, he had to find a place to send word back to Last Stop.
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Then he could think about where he should go from there. California beckoned to him.
Chandler made camp and cooked dinner over a low fire. He fed his horse and
unsaddled him. He rubbed the beast down before tying his reins to an outcrop where his mount could graze on the sparse grass around. He ate his own dinner, and then went to sleep.
The next day was bound to be more of the same thinking while letting his body do the rest without worrying about what he should be doing.
Eventually he would catch up to the posse either at the obstruction, or on their way back to their town. He wasn’t worried about that. He doubted he would have trouble as far as that went.
He should be able to cut through any obstruction, as long as there wasn’t a bigger piece moving on the pile of problems.
He dismissed the thought the posse might already be dead. That did him no good, and he had to see for himself instead of just thinking it.
Chandler woke as the sky started lightening in the east. He made breakfast and some coffee before watering his horse. He put the saddle back on and readied for another long day of riding.
He looked in the distance in the direction he was riding. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He should be catching up with the other riders today, or tomorrow. He couldn’t remember a town out this way, but that didn’t mean anything.
Towns sprang up around gold and silver and when the material was gone, they crashed. Finding the remains of a place was not out of the question.
He watched the road ahead as he let the horse trot by the dried riverbed. He didn’t see signs of any other people using the road through the plain. He supposed not many wanted to ride north when they had every other direction they could go.
He spotted a loose horse as he was looking for a place to camp. He stood in his saddle to use the extra height to look around. He didn’t see a rider.
He frowned as he dismounted and started toward the strange horse. The animal pawed the ground as he approached but settled when he talked to it. It had been scared by something.
That didn’t really mean anything. Horses were skittish by nature. They preferred to run from bigger animals, and kick smaller ones. It still had on its tack, so it had run from its owner and left him behind.
Chandler went back to his own horse and poured some water from his canteen into his hat so the strange horse could have something to drink after being out in the desert for so long. He did the same for his own horse.
He supposed that the posse had run into some kind of ambush ahead. Should he go ahead before dark, or wait until daylight? He decided that waiting until he could see was better at the moment. There were plenty of things that hunted in the night that could see better than him.
It also meant he would have to be on guard for the next few nights until he found out what happened. He put the thought away. He knew that was bound to happen if there was trouble.
People didn’t disappear without some kind of reason.
Chandler decided to have a cold dinner out of his supplies. He didn’t unsaddle his horse, or the strange horse either. He might have to ride out at a moment’s notice. He didn’t want to fool with a saddle in an emergency.
He doubted a person was involved unless they happened to miss the horse as it ran away. He supposed that was possible, but thought the horse had just ran away when it could. That meant something scary was ahead.
He decided to go ahead. He debated leaving both horses behind. There might be a need for one ahead, but he didn’t want to run into something and lose the horse.
He had to risk it. A fast getaway was better than being stuck on foot and running for his life. He hated thinking that this might get his horse killed. He had got the horse years ago and it had been a trusted companion ever since.
“We’re going to try to sneak up on this problem,” Chandler told the animals. “Then we’re going to see what we can do.”
He expected the problem was more serious than what he had thought when he had stopped in Last Stop. Finding a horse without a rider qualified as something going on in his opinion.
Something lay ahead. He hoped that the posse had not been killed to a man just trying to find out what had shut off the water to the region.
Chandler loaded his pipe and smoked the tobacco up before he tried to get some sleep on the blanket from his saddle bag. He made sure he could draw his pistol and sword without too much effort before settling in.
Things happened in the night. He wanted to be ready just in case.
Chandler woke the next day. Both horses were where he left them, cropping some grass. He cooked a small breakfast for himself, then fed and watered the horses. He cleaned up the camp and made ready to ride. He had time to think as he continued along the dried up river bed.
Chandler watched the area around him. Signs would point out things to him so he could be careful. An ambush made sense to him. He just didn’t see any place where it could happen.
The terrain had some slight hills but for the most part lay flat. Vegetation was just as scarce as the variety of ground. He saw some rocks but he didn’t see any sign of horses around them.
The strange horse grew nervous the more they rode along the river. He found some grass and left it to crop what it wanted. He didn’t want a horse that would cause problems while he was trying to figure out what was going on.
His own horse seemed a little nervy, but had gone into enough situations with him that it trusted him to get them through whatever lay ahead.
Chandler pushed forward, scanning the area. A pile of rocks drew his attention. They were right where the river should be flowing. He doubted a landslide had caused that.
He found the mummy next. He dismounted to get a better look. Something had dried out a man in his clothes, and dropped him to the ground when it was done.
Chandler twisted his wrist and the bone white sword of the King dropped into his hand. He needed to look around before there was trouble for him that he couldn’t overcome.
The King marched forward, sword in hand.