38

BEYOND THE CROWD they broke into a jog, trying to catch up with Garza on the trail, but he had either outpaced them or gone via some other route, and as deep twilight settled over the valley they arrived at an empty encampment.

They headed directly to their tent, and there Gideon paused.

“Are the supplies ready?” Imogen asked.

“The saddles are outside the tent, and I gathered the last of the saddlebags just before the ceremony.”

“Good. You assemble everything while I grab the camels.”

“And Garza?”

“He knows what this means. He’ll show up.”

She went off while Gideon went into the back of the tent, to the corner where he’d been stealthily assembling getaway supplies. He threw back a coverlet, exposing goatskins he’d filled with water the day before, along with some dried meat and dates in leather sacks. He carried the waterskins and food to a sheltered area outside the tent, then fetched the three crossbows and all the bolts they had fashioned. Imogen was right: whatever was happening in the Home of the Dead wasn’t going to last long. Violence was brewing. They had to be gone before the populace returned.

Suddenly Garza appeared at the tent, exhausted and covered with dust.

“Where have you been?”

“I…I had to think. This is so sudden. We were planning to wait a week—”

“The time for waiting is over. Imogen’s getting the camels. Help me with the last of these supplies.”

A strange look came over Garza’s face. “Gideon, you saw those people—they don’t want Blackbeard to lead them. He’s a tyrant!”

“None of our business.”

“Yes, but…” Garza seemed reluctant to say more. “What if Jelena—and that hulking bastard…?” His voice trailed off.

Gideon could hardly believe this. What a time for Garza to grow a conscience, he thought. “Now that she’s been married, Blackbeard isn’t going to bother her. Besides, she’s the daughter of the dead chief. She’s still a princess.”

“She stood up for me. You heard her. I’ve never run away from anything, I’ll look like a coward—”

“You had to marry her. Remember? As I recall, you weren’t too keen on the idea.”

Garza didn’t reply. He just shook his head.

“Look,” Gideon said, his voice softening. “I get it. I can understand why you feel guilty. Maybe you’re even a bit fond of her. But all we’re doing is moving up our plans a little—plans that we’d already agreed on. You don’t really want to stay here—you just don’t want to look like a coward. And face it: you don’t know the first thing about leading this tribe. These people have centuries of experience in this harsh environment. For better or worse, Blackbeard shares that experience—the beliefs, the rituals, that collective memory. The hard truth is that these people will be better off without us. And you know it. We don’t belong here. If we stay, all we’ll do is start a civil war. Your wife will die—and so will a lot of innocent people. If you go, they’ll settle their differences and all will be well.”

“Until they find the tomb’s been looted, you mean.”

“For God’s sake, Manuel! Will you put your pride aside and listen to me? They’re going to blame us for that—and by the time they find out, we’ll be far away. This is all happening too fast and you’re not thinking clearly. Remember: this whole thing was your idea. ‘If it has value, we’re gonna steal it’—your words to me, back at that bar on Thirteenth Street. We’ve come halfway around the world to realize your ambition. Now you can resurrect that Duesenberg factory, live that dream. You’ve got years—I have weeks. If I thought you were going to wimp out at the last minute, do you think I would have spent my last months on earth digging ditches and dying of thirst?”

He stopped, breathing hard. Garza’s face was twisted in an agony of indecision. They had both raised their voices, and now silence fell. Gideon made an effort to calm himself, to gather his thoughts. Then he said, quietly: “Manuel, loyalty is both your greatest strength and your greatest weakness. You were loyal to Eli—and he screwed you. Now you feel loyalty to your wife of four days. To a dead chief whose language you barely speak. How about being loyal to yourself for a change? Your future is out there, just a few canyons away.” He laid a hand on Garza’s shoulder. “We’ve been through so much. Don’t throw it all away now, partner—please.”

In the silence that followed, Gideon saw Garza’s face lose its indecisive look and become an expressionless mask. He drew a long, shuddering breath. And then he shook his head.

“You’re right,” he said. “Me and my misguided sense of morality. I don’t belong here—even when I’m with Jelena, especially when I’m with Jelena. I understand that. Eli owes me a debt, and I intend to collect…or die trying.” He took Gideon’s hand from his shoulder and grasped it firmly just as Imogen arrived with the camels out of the gathering dark.

“Bonding time, boys?” she asked as she expertly couched the four animals in the dirt before the tent.

“Just agreeing how much we’re going to miss this paradise.” Gideon hefted a saddle pad, threw it on the back of one of the camels. “Let’s load up and get out of here.”

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