The Pythagoras Curse Part XI
The Dutchman
As we reached the stone wall which almost spanned the basin Johannes raised his fingers to his lips and produced a piercing whistle.
The sound of it echoed throughout the canyon. As the sound began to fade a man perched atop the wall stood and waved a rifle above his head.
We rode through a narrow opening where the wall had eroded and traveled around behind it, up a steep trail until we reached a log cabin.
As I reined in my mare I noticed smoke drafting out the top of a chimney. If these men were outlaws they didn’t appear to be concerned with someone discovering their position.
I understood why.
The ride through the canyon had been arduous. Long Feather and I were only able to ride one behind the other most of the time. It was impossible to approach this place without being spotted then picked off by shooters from the top of the mountain walls.
A corral to the west side of the cabin contained at least a half dozen horses. Another structure which appeared to be a small barn sat on the other side.
As far north as I could see was a mesa of grassland. I witnessed at least a hundred head of cattle slowly meandering about, feeding on the grass at their feet.
When we dismounted Johannes held out his reins to a young cowboy sitting on a bench in front of the cabin.
“Lonny, take the horses and see to it they’re fed proper and watered.”
“Ah damn Dutchman that ain’t my job. Get somebody else to do it.”
“You know Lonny, I believe I’m going to kill you one of these days. And I’m guessing your big brother Harvey won’t even shed a tear about it. One day you’ll be breathing the air God gives us and the next I’ll take your soul.”
Something about the way Johannes said that pierced my body with numbing sensations of cold.
“Damn Dutchman, can’t ya see I was jus’ joking with ya?”
“I don’t joke Lonny. You know that.”
I watched the young outlaw steer clear of Johannes and gather the reins of our horses. Grumbling beneath his breath he stalked toward the corral.
“Come Petra, your friend as well. We shall sit and talk for awhile before supper. Tom O’day cooks up a stew which will melt in your mouth. Come, come.”
We followed Johannes into the cabin, a spacious one room affair with a long square wooden table in the center. Benches sat along the length of the table. Beside the chimney hearth rows of wall shelving held scores of supplies.
Tom O’day, the man Johannes mentioned stood busying himself over a large cast iron pot hanging from a hook above the flames.
Johannes took a bottle from one of the shelves and three glasses. He sat, pulled the cork from the bottle with his teeth and proceeded to pour into each glass.
“This is bourbon sour mash, not that swill they serve at most saloons. Picked some up on our last adventure.”
Long Feather reached out and picked up a glass. I clasped my hand over his wrist and guided his hand and the glass to the table.
“You’ll not begin this affliction today boy. If you are thirsty fetch my canteen.”
Johannes smiled, tossed his drink back then poured another.
“Some things never change eh Petra?”
“I do not take your meaning.”
“All these years have done little to take away your pious civility, your desire to bring others to purity.”
I took the bottle of whiskey and carefully returned my share of liquor to the bottle then Long Feather’s as well.
“There is harm in that?”
“I suppose not. You were always swayed by the teachings of the church.”
“We all believed in the holy sacrament of our mission did we not?”
“Perhaps some more than others.”
I watched Johannes finish his drink and pour another. His lust for drink I’d witnessed hundreds of years ago when we fought alongside each other. As he said, some things never change.
“You know why I am here do you not?”
“Honestly brother no.” He snatched the bottle from the table and waved it at Long Feather. “I also do not understand your choice of traveling companion.”
“Shaman brought me back from spirit world. I ride with him on his quest.”
Johannes snorted with laughter.
“And what kind of quest are you two on?”
“Hold boy. I’ll speak now. Johannes I have been seeking to find you and Gerung since La Forbie. I seek a way to break this curse.”
“You speak of that night? The old man in the cave?”
“Yes.”
“You were mortally wounded that night my brother and unconscious. You did not see.”
“Did not see what?”
“When the old man blessed us. He gave Gerung and I eternal life.”
“Impossible Johannes. He bestowed the same upon me that night. I, like you and Gerung, must celebrate the anniversary of that night. Each year I must give up a soul, never knowing if it will be my last and I will die from the giving of it.”
“No, no my brother he did not.”
“Did not what?”
“Bestow the same. With me I only have to take a soul each year. Imagine brother. To stay alive all I have to do is reach out and touch someone, transfer their very existence into me. How ironic. You must give of yourself a soul. I must take one. Each of us finds balance in the other’s action.”
It never occurred to me my brothers would experience this curse in a manner different than I. I gazed across the table at him. He was not smiling, his gray eyes fixed on me.
“What of Gerung?”
“I know not. I received my blessing from the old man and was led away to be ransomed back to my family. It is safe to say the old man did to him as was done to us.”
“Which, the power to give or to take?”
“Again I know not. You seemed distressed brother. Pray tell me what concerns you.”
“After all these years Johannes you have not changed. You reveled in the slaughter of those people, thrilled in the gore of the battlefield and the cruelty of killing those who stood against you. And now you do the same, you take life in order to keep yours.”
Johannes slammed the bottle against the table and stood. His complexion deepened into a ruddy crimson hue.
“On the morrow Petra we attack the Union Pacific railroad. You shall ride with us. Then you will understand why killing is necessary to survive in this savage land.”
“I shall not. I believe Long Feather and I will be on our way.”
Johannes lurched over the table and grabbed Long Feather by the arm, yanking the boy to his feet as he curled his arm around the boy’s neck.
“I do not have to wait to celebrate the anniversary of my gift Petra. I can take this boy’s soul anytime I wish. I can take yours as well.”
“I’ll not be so easy to conquer Johannes.”
“Ah, you know I was always the better fighter Petra. It’s your lack of desire to kill which has always been your enemy. I unlike you have no issues with taking the life of another.”
“Then here is my bargain. I propose we fight. You fight to take me and the boy’s souls. I fight for me and the boy’s safe passage from this place.”
Johannes smiled and nodded.
“Then we shall fight and before you die, you will watch me take this boy’s soul and then I will take whatever you have left in you my friend. Tom, take this boy into the barn and tie him up. Then round up the men. I want them to witness this.”
READ ON — THE PYTHAGORAS CURSE PART XII
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part XIV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part VIII, Part XIX, Part XX, Part XXI, Part XXII Part XXIII, Conclusion
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