A few hours into their journey, the pleasant banter faded away and Émile felt the air between him and Gauthier chill a little. The sun was up and he could see, not too far off now, smoke rising into the clouds from a smattering of chimneys. A populated area. Maybe Perth. The breaking point.
“Where you heading from anyway, Mr Deschênes?” asked Gauthier. “You never said.”
“You never asked,” said Émile, with a pleasant smile.
Gauthier’s face was not so pleasant. “And now I am.”
Émile cleared his throat, trying to draw the conversation out long enough that they might turn another corner, get a little closer to whatever village they were approaching. Maybe Gauthier wouldn’t kill him in front of witnesses.
Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
“By the river,” he said, knowing his answer wouldn’t suffice. “The Ottawa.”
“Bytown, maybe?” asked Gauthier, watching him closely.
“Near there, yes,” said Émile. “How about you?”
“How long have you lived there?” Gauthier asked, ignoring his question completely.
“Not long,” he said. “A year, maybe more.”
“Interesting. Interesting.”
They rode in silence for a minute. Émile could hear the sounds of children playing in the snow, laughing and screaming as snowballs pelted walls and coats up ahead. He couldn’t see safety, but he could tell it was there.
“You heard of Peter Aylen?” Gauthier asked, and Émile flinched. Gauthier grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“He’s…he has quite the reputation.”
“Not good reputation,” said Nowak.
Émile smiled nervously. “No, not good at all,” he said, and—
///
Aylen slammed Maggie’s back to the wall, bearing down on her with a sharp, menacing scowl. “Mrs Kelly,” he said. “You and I’ve been out of sorts lately.”
Bowen’s cottage was empty but for the two of them, with dozens of soldiers rushing around outside as her sudden arrival had thrown their already-rushed production into disarray. Her hands were tied tight, leaving her completely at his mercy. The only question was whether he was so confident in himself that he would risk killing her in such a public way.
She got her answer a moment later when, with his free hand, he slid a thick-bladed knife from his belt. “I hate being out of sorts,” he growled, and—
The door opened and Bowen stormed in with two of his lieutenants, dragging Colleen in behind them. Her face was bruised, blood crusted on her lip, a noose already looped around her neck. She looked terrified and traumatized, but when she saw Maggie there, it got even worse. She started to cry, trying to break free—but the soldiers held her steady with ruthless efficiency.
Bowen pointed a warning finger at her. “You, behave yourself. And you…” He turned to Aylen, staring very clearly at the knife. “How stupid are you? We need a hanging, not a murder. Put that thing away.”
Aylen did as he was told—but not without a sneer—and paced back across the room, giving Maggie a chance to breathe. She nodded toward Bowen, spoke softly: “Thank you, Cap—”
“Don’t bother,” he snapped at her. “You’re only in here because leaving you out there would invite more scrutiny than I have patience for. You’re very brave, Mrs Kelly, but your friend still dies at noon.”
“But she wasn’t even there! We were!”
This caught Bowen’s attention. “We?”
She seemed tormented by the words she had to say. “Liam was with me.”
Colleen’s eyes went wide at the mention.
“Liam who?” snapped Bowen.
“Kelly,” said Aylen. “Her brother-in-law. Constable Kelly’s brother. Wanted for murder—”
“Murder-murder? Or convenient-for-you murder?” asked Bowen.
Aylen’s jaw creaked, it was so tight. “Your men saw it happen, remember?”
Bowen’s eye twitched at the memory. He turned his fury toward Maggie. “Alright then, Mrs Kelly, convince me. I might reconsider the day’s events if you tell me where to find your brother-in-law…”
Maggie took a sharp breath, because—
\\
—the sun was almost set when Liam came running down the lane, face switching from worry to elation the second he saw her. He raised his hand to wave—and only then noticed Colleen. And Rían. And the look on Rían’s face.
Liam’s run slowed along with his happiness.
“Th-there you are…” he said, with a fraction of the confidence he’d had before.
Maggie felt the violent twist of the day’s events take an even bigger turn as she realized the smile on her face was split between two men, two brothers…and in a few short moments, she risked losing them both.
Colleen felt it, too. She took a step back, aiming to stay out of the fray.
“Oh, you’re here!” said Rían, blissfully unaware. “Maggie, this is—”
“We’ve met,” said Maggie, and Rían still didn’t understand what he was in the middle of.
“I…” Liam croaked. “I was afraid you’d gotten lost, after—”
“Colleen found me, so—”
“And then I found her, too,” said Rían. “When did you meet, exactly?”
“Earlier,” said Maggie and Liam, as one.
The silence was unbearable.
“Maggie, we should get going,” said Colleen, trying to fracture the mood. “It’s getting dark, so—”
“I’ll walk you,” said Rían.
“We’ll walk you,” said Liam, face tense with a confusing mess of emotions. “Safer that way. Bytown after dark can get a bit—
///
—dangerous, since Aylen showed up,” said Gauthier, keeping his horse moving at a leisurely pace. “Replaced lawlessness with something worse.”
Émile shrugged, trying not to look like he was counting the steps until they were in sight of the town. “I try to keep to myself,” he said. “Stay out of trouble.”
“Smart decision,” smiled Gauthier. “Though sometimes, staying out of trouble isn’t an option. Sometimes trouble finds you no matter what you do.”
Émile smiled, meekly. “I do my best not to—”
“Sometimes,” Gauthier said, pausing his horse and looking directly at Emile, “evil finds you anyway.”
The other men took up positions all around Émile. None had weapons in their hands, but based on recent experience, he knew that could change in a heartbeat. He did his best not to let his body communicate his unease. He was not entirely successful.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t—”
“Once was, there were five of us,” said Gauthier. “Topek’s brother, Charlie. Brains of the family.”
“Harsh but true,” said Topek.
“Charlie was your quintessential grifter,” continued Gauthier. “He could talk the badge off a magistrate—”
“And did,” said Dexter.
“—without breaking a sweat. So when a trio of troublemakers caught up to him in the woods, aiming to rifle his pockets, Charlie spun a tale wild enough to make a redwood dizzy. Had ‘em believing they’d all get rich if they let him be.”
Émile’s horse was impatient to keep moving; it turned slightly, giving him a peripheral view of the short distance left ‘til the town. So close…
“He might’ve made it, too, except for one thing,” said Gauthier. “Peter Aylen came along and burned the whole story down. Saw right through Charlie’s lies, had his men rifle those pockets anyway. Stole his gun and his horse and his coat and his boots, and beat him ‘til he couldn’t tell which way was up.”
Émile glanced at Topek, whose eyes were downcast, but furious and hurt.
“And then when poor Charlie had nothing left to give, Aylen took the pistol he’d stolen, and he aimed it on down, and he shot Charlie—
\\
—dead,” said Maggie. “He’s dead. Liam’s dead.”
Colleen blinked in surprise. She stumbled back until the soldiers caught her, jerking her forward again, keeping her still. “What?” she gasped. “No…no, he can’t be…”
“His leg was badly broken—”
“But he was walking! He was walking and he was—”
“—and he lost too much blood,” Maggie said, trying not to look Colleen in the eye while she told this most horrible of lies. The memory of Mr Crowley was so fresh, she worried she might come apart at any moment, no matter what the subject was. “I tried to save him, but I…”
“No!” cried Colleen, legs giving out beneath her. “No, God, no!”
“I’m sorry,” Maggie whispered, then leveled her gaze toward Bowen, more determined than ever. “I’m confessing to the burning of Corkstown,” she said. “You need someone to blame, so blame me. Colleen is innocent—”
Colleen got the fury back in her spirit. She lurched forward, like she was going to break free. “And so are you! Jesus, Maggie, don’t do this to yourself! Liam died for—”
“Liam died for nothing,” said Maggie, then glared at Aylen. “He died for no reason at all.”
Bowen shook his head. “No,” he said. “No, I’m not in the business of helping mourning widows commit suicide. I’ve my doubts as to Ms Crowley’s guilt, but I do not believe you, Mrs Kelly. Living is hard, but you have to get on with it.”
He snapped his fingers and the soldiers dragged Colleen toward the door. She screamed and thrashed, trying to get free, but there was no way—
“Wait!” shouted Maggie. “I’ll confess!”
“You have, and I rejected it,” said Bowen.
“Not about the fire. About my husband. I’ll confess to murdering my husband.”
Every head in the place turned toward Maggie. Colleen was horrified, Bowen bemused, and Aylen…intrigued.
“You need a villain, I’ll be your villain,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I’ll admit to whatever you want. I’ll swear on my husband’s grave—”
“The husband you killed?” scoffed Bowen.
“The husband I’ll say I killed,” she said. “If you let Colleen go.”
Bowen looked to Aylen. “This is your mess. You decide.”
Aylen observed Maggie carefully, watching every blink of her eyes, every twitch of her head. Like that night in Lowertown, when she’d come to him for help and reassurance, and left worse off than before. That night, she’d looked emboldened, ready to fight. This time, she looked defeated, ready to let everything go for a chance to rest.
“A hanging’s a hanging,” he said. “If the bitch wants to die, who am I to stop her?”
“No!” screamed Colleen, trying to get free. “No, you can’t—”
“I have two conditions,” Maggie said.
“You’re in no position to—”
“I have two conditions,” she repeated, glaring at Aylen, then turned to Bowen. “First, that you have a soldier escort Colleen home.” She thought of Mr Crowley, dead against the gravestone, and felt like she might retch. “Blindfolded.”
“Blindfolded?” laughed Bowen. “Why—”
“So no one recognizes her, and questions why. But it must be a soldier. Not one of his men.” Aylen laughed, but Bowen shot him a warning glare.
“Done,” he said. “And your second condition?”
\\
“Wait a second,” whispered Liam, catching Maggie’s arm. Rían and Colleen, deep in conversation, kept strolling along, but Maggie let herself be slowed, despite knowing exactly what the result would be.
“Liam, I…”
“What did I do wrong?” he asked. “Because I’ve been trying to figure it out since you left, and I just can’t—”
“It wasn’t you,” she said, trying to think of how to tell him something easier than the truth. “It was…there are things in my past that just—”
“Your husband?” he asked. She tried to leave, but he stood in her way. “I don’t need to know, Maggie. But please don’t punish me for trying to protect you. I didn’t mean to—”
“I’m not punishing you,” she said. “It’s just not that simple. Nothing is that simple.”
“Yes it is,” he said, taking her hand in his. She shot a nervous glance toward Rían and Colleen, but they didn’t see a thing. Liam rested a hand on her cheek, bent down so she couldn’t avoid his eyes. “You feel it, too,” he said. “The thing between us, you feel it, too. I can tell.”
“I can’t—”
“Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll leave it be,” he said. “Tell me I’m crazy, and I’ll never say another word about it.”
Maggie couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, but knew she couldn’t avoid it any longer. She met his gaze—his passionate, mournful eyes, and felt the words on her tongue dissolve into the air between them. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, that there was nothing there, that there never could be anything there…but in that moment, him standing so close, so near…
“I’m not—
///
—telling you this for pity’s sake,” said Gauthier, moving his horse right next to Émile’s, so there was nowhere to go, nowhere else to look. “God knows Aylen’s own mother cursed his existence, too. Another begrudged soul won’t change a thing in the grander scheme of things.”
Émile heard the children playing. Salvation so close at hand.
“Rumour has it there’s a horse thief on the loose,” Gauthier said, and Émile worked so very hard not to react. “Took off from Bytown in the night, headed west. Somewhere west.”
Nowak petted Émile’s horse, held onto its reins.
“Rumour has it this horse thief is mixed up in a murder or two. Dead constable. Missing wife. Carnage far as the eye can see.”
“Monsieur, I don’t—”
“Rumours, rumours, rumours…” Gauthier said, hand on the butt of his pistol. “Rumours spidering out from the mouth of Peter Aylen. Which makes you wonder, doesn’t it? If Peter Aylen’s this desperate to catch one lonely horse thief…what’s that horse thief know that’s best left to a grave?”
He peered over his shoulder at the last bend before Perth.
“Gotta be something really impressive, to ride through the night like that. That horse thief’s gotta be real certain that a judge’ll be swayed by what he knows. Real certain.”
Émile felt the last dregs of hope crumble away, and he shook his head and said:
\\
“What’s the second thing? Your second demand?”
Maggie let out a raspy breath, then looked past Aylen, to Bowen and demanded instead of requesting: “A public trial,” she said. “In Perth.”
“Out of the question!” snarled Aylen. “She confessed—”
“And I’ll do it again. In public. In Perth.”
Aylen looked ready to explode. “Hang her. Today. Now. There’s no reason—”
Bowen was enjoying the theatrics. His smile said it all. “There’s no reason not to, either. What’s the harm in having her confess under oath?”
“She could lie!” Aylen roared. “She’ll say—”
“Something you’d rather not be said? Oh, I’m sure she’s smarter than that.” Bowen turned to Maggie, gave her a sly grin. “Your conditions are accepted, Mrs Kelly. My men—my men—will ship you off to Perth at once.”
“Thank y—”
“But don’t think for a second you have friends there,” he said. “The justices there enjoy a peaceful existence, so if you’ve any sense at all, you’ll say—
///
—I have no evidence regarding Peter Aylen,” said Émile, his whole body tensed to the point of agony. “God knows I wish I did, but that’s not why I’m going to Perth.” He looked to Topek, shrugged sadly. “I’m sorry for your brother. I wish I could help. But I’m just a weary traveler, and nothing more.”
He couldn’t read their faces. He couldn’t tell what they thought of it. He hoped it had worked, at least a little. He didn’t need a miracle, he just needed to get those last few yards into Perth. Just a few more yards.
“Well, I had to try,” said Gauthier, with a long sigh. “Sorry for the misunderstanding. We hate that bastard with such a passion, we leap at any chance we get to poke a stick in his eye. Maybe we got ahead of ourselves on this one. Maybe the horse thief’s just a thief, and that’s all there is to it.”
He moved his horse aside, giving Émile a clear shot into town.
It was a trap. He knew it was a trap, but there was nothing else he could do.
Nowak was too at ease. Dexter was distracted by the wind through the trees. Topek seemed indifferent to it all.
Gauthier was giving him his exit.
He knew he’d never make it, but he had to try all the same.
Émile nodded his head politely. “Thank you for the company,” he said, and nudged his horse into a trot.
“Hold up, Mr Deschênes,” said Gauthier, and Émile heard the faint click of the hammer on a pistol being lowered. He turned, very slowly, to see all four of them training their guns on him.
“I swear I don’t know anything,” Émile said.
“Well that’s the thing,” said Gauthier. “If you had something we could use against Aylen, you’d be worth your weight in gold to us.” He shrugged, aimed his gun at Émile’s face. “But the bounty on a horse thief ain’t nothing to sneeze at neither,” and—
\\
—Maggie squeezed her eyes shut as Colleen hugged her, holding her so tight she thought her ribs might break. The soldier who’d freed Colleen’s wrists was hovering nearby, ready with a sack to put over her head. He seemed impatient to get on with it. Bowen shook his head and waved him off a ways. He wasn’t a kind man, but he wasn’t a cruel one, either.
Aylen stalked back and forth by the door, sneering.
“You can’t do this,” Colleen sobbed, still not letting go. “You can’t let them win.”
“I’ll be fine,” said Maggie. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Don’t worry about—!”
Maggie leaned in closer, lips right up against Colleen’s ear, and whispered: “Keep him from going over the edge.”
When she moved back, Colleen was frowning, confused. “Wait, who?” she mouthed, before Maggie snatched the sack from the soldier and pulled it over his friend’s head.
“Get her home safely,” she said, choking back tears. “Just get her home.”
\\
Liam caught up with Rían just as Sapper’s Bridge was coming into view. He gave Colleen a playful wink—though it wasn’t quite as playful as he thought—and gestured back toward Maggie.
“Miss Maggie!” Colleen called, heading on back. “Let’s plan our tomorrows.”
Liam paced his brother in silence for a moment, trying to find the right angle to come at the problem. He was smitten with this mysterious woman, though he couldn’t explain why, and he knew he couldn’t let her go. It wasn’t a question of seeing her first, or wanting her more…it was an imperative he couldn’t quite define: his life would be wrong without her by his side. He’d heard of love at first sight, but until today, it had seemed a quaint notion. The stuff of poems and syrupy songs.
And now…
He took a breath, then another, then reached out for Rían’s arm: “Brother, about Maggie…”
Rían turned to him with a look on his face that was everything Liam was feeling, and more. He wasn’t the kind of man to be struck with emotion: he’d learned the hard way to deal with his troubles with words, not fists. Liam still struggled with that. A lot. Every smart choice the two of them had made along the way had been because Rían had thought things through and found the smartest path forward.
And now he looked like none of that mattered, and everything was pure bliss.
“Isn’t she…just…” Rían said, trying to find the words. “Special, you know? She’s just…I can’t even describe it. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, Liam, but she’s…”
Liam rested a hand on Rían’s chest.
“She is,” he said. “And I think… I think she fancies you, too.”
The sleigh shook as they went through another dip in the frozen dirt road. The soldiers, two of them, jostled this way and that, keeping their gazes out the sides like they expected an ambush. Maybe they did. Maybe they just needed somewhere else to look.
It was an open-top sleigh, and not a very good one. One soldier sat next to her, and the other across from them in the centre of the bench—because there wasn’t enough room otherwise. Maggie’s hands were bound, hands frozen in the open air. She leaned against the edge of her seat, staring back down the road, back toward Bytown, back where it had all gone wrong.
The sun was setting on another day, casting long shadows behind them that would soon blur into the dim colours of a January night. They’d been riding for hours, and would be many hours more before they stopped.
The soldier opposite her pulled a flask from his pocket, unscrewed the cap with uncertain fingers. He took a swig, then offered it to his comrade. Got a half-hearted shake of the head in return. He made eye contact with Maggie, seemed to think about a small mercy for a second, and then closed the flask back up.
“People could’ve died,” he said, a little louder than he needed to.
Maggie said nothing.
“People did die,” said the other soldier.
The sleigh slipped again, fishtailing as it tried to take a corner a bit too fast. Branches cracked against the sides, and the soldier flinched away, shouting up to the driver: “Hey! Better late than dead, mate! Take it easy!”
The horses whinnied, and the sleigh shifted back the other way, just as suddenly. They were at the edge of a cliffside now, with a steep drop right at the side of the narrow road. Tall trees dotted the terrain below, disappearing into darkness and death. The sleigh was dangerously close to sliding right off. Dangerously close.
The soldier slapped and angry fist down and climbed past Maggie, out onto the driving deck, where he yelled all kinds of profanities, and vented his soul.
Maggie ignored them, because her mind was already too busy with actions and reactions, possible outcomes and tragic ends. She had to stay focused, or Aylen would win.
She had to trust Ada would find Colleen, the second she heard about Maggie’s deal. With Colleen in the house, there was a decent chance Liam might be persuaded to stay put and heal. She had to hope Ada’s obscurity would keep them all safe until things were resolved. There was nothing to do with that but hope.
Just like with Émile, and Perth. There were two possibilities, two realities she might be riding into. In one, Émile had failed to make it west as planned—for one reason or another—so when she arrived, she’d be nothing more than a confessed criminal trying to shift the blame before they put the noose ‘round her neck and ended the whole thing for good.
The second possibility, while less stark, would be even harder to overcome. If Émile had made it there before her, even if they didn’t believe him at first, he—
Maggie heard the sound of a pistol being loaded.
She turned, drawing in an endless breath, to see the other soldier aiming his weapon straight at her. And without a moment of pause, he fired.