"Congratulations, Bick," Henry said, walking over to the young outlaw. "Your skill with a carriage has saved your life. Do a good job, and when we get to Denver tomorrow, you'll be a free man."
"Thank you, Sheriff Henry!" Bick said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I'll follow your orders to the letter."
Henry just smiled and walked back to his own tent. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight, nor would he be absorbing the two new green pearls. With a group of women, children, and untested men under his protection, he had to remain completely alert. His current strength was sufficient; he didn't need an immediate upgrade. Besides, he was curious to see what effect an all-nighter would have on his "Health" status.
He could hear the faint howls of predators from the direction of Dead Man's Gulch, two miles away. The beasts were active tonight.
He replayed his conversation with Richard Mellon in his mind. He had revealed the truth about the McKinley's plot for one reason: to convince Richard to back out of his role as an intermediary. He couldn't risk William and Brendan coming to some sort of agreement, which might lead to the Mayor trying to interfere with his plans.
And he didn't want to be forced to "release" Richard, either. The man had stood up for his wife; he had courage. And with his knowledge of mining and banking, he was a valuable potential ally.
The quiet of the deep night was the perfect time to think.
In their tent, Richard and Madeline were also having a late-night conversation.
Though they were newlyweds, they were true partners. Richard saw the exhaustion in his wife's eyes, but also the unspoken question. He knew her family was "old money," and her marriage to him, a "new money" man, was considered a step down in some circles. But he also knew she was far from a brainless debutante. He valued her opinion.
He told her everything Henry had said. Madeline was horrified.
Anyone who had witnessed Henry in action would never willingly stand against him. She remembered the scene with the twenty-two gray wolves. In close quarters, they were more dangerous than forty men with pistols, yet Henry had annihilated them in seconds. Not a single one had gotten within ten meters of him.
"We must remain neutral, at the very least," Madeline said, her voice firm. "And we should do our best to cultivate a friendship with him. Our own mines are not far from his jurisdiction."
"The McKinleys concealed too much from us. They led us into extreme danger. We will keep our distance from them from now on. We'll see what Brendan has to say when we return."
"Regardless," she concluded, "with the losses they've suffered to their private army, and now facing the combined strength of Henry and the Sinclair family, their future in this territory is bleak."
Richard gently stroked her hair. "That is what I was thinking as well. Now, sleep. We have a long ride tomorrow."
An hour later, Henry emerged from his tent. He gathered the nine deputies and Bick.
"You seven," he said, "get some rest. I'll wake you at 4 AM. Bick, Thor, you're on watch with me."
"Bick is one of us for now," he announced to the others. "He will be free when we reach Denver. But if he tries to run, you will shoot to kill."
"If I encounter any outlaws, I will deal with them and return. It may take several hours. You will protect the camp."
The men went to their tents, leaving Henry, Bick, and Thor to stand guard, their positions forming a triangle in the darkness.
The night passed without incident.
At 4 AM, Henry had Thor wake the other deputies. Once they had taken over the watch, Henry set out alone, heading for The Gallows on foot.
He maintained a steady jogging pace, about twelve kilometers an hour. With his night vision, he could run as easily as an ordinary man in daylight.
The pre-dawn wilderness was alive with the rustle and calls of snakes, rats, foxes, badgers, and owls. He ignored them all, running through the vast, empty landscape, reveling in the wild, untamed romance of the West.
His bold, solitary journey did not go unnoticed.
Half a mile from The Gallows, he was forced to a halt. Five pairs of cold, cruel, green eyes stared at him from the darkness, surrounding him in a thirty-meter circle.
Gray wolves. Each one weighed nearly ninety kilograms, with a bite force of 700 pounds. Even a black bear would give them a wide berth. They had ambushed him, appearing from behind the low hills as if from nowhere.
If he used his guns, it would be over in seconds. But the sound would alert any outlaws who might be hiding in the pass. He would use cold steel.
Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish!
Four throwing knives, two for each of the two closest wolves, flew from his hands like streaks of cold lightning.
He estimated his throwing speed was now around forty meters per second. A wolf's reaction time was a tenth of a second. They couldn't dodge completely, but they could try to avoid a fatal blow.
One of the wolves was too slow. A knife buried itself in its eye, and it collapsed. The other jerked its head aside, taking the second knife in the cheek. It let out a furious howl and charged.
The other three wolves lunged at the same time.