The defenders themselves consisted of thirty-six people, nineteen men and seventeen women, none under the age of fifteen or over the age of fifty. All of them had lived many years on the frontier, and Ryan saw no need to drill them. The rest of the citizens were either too old, too young, too infirm or not inclined to take part. They were confined to hastily erected shelters near the boneyard.
The night wore on, with Autry and Ryan supervising the Amicans’ appointed tasks. The hills on either side of the pass worried him more than he let on. Barricade or no barricade, he knew that the Red Cadre would split its force, some sweeping through the gorge and others scaling the hills. There weren’t enough people to defend both hills and the pass.
Krysty, who had been helping to build the barricade, called to Ryan. In a voice low enough so the others couldn’t hear, she said, “With that gren launcher of his, Hatcher could stand out on the plain and pepper the town to pieces.”
“I know, but he’ll be firing blind. We’ll have blasters on the hilltops to keep them from climbing. They’ll have to come through the pass.”
Glancing at the gorge, she said, “If there was only some way to bring the walls down when they’re jammed in there”
“Mr. Cawdor!”
Felicity jogged up to them, rifle cradled in her arms. She wore a brace of flintlock blasters in a sash at her waist, as well as a long-bladed knife. “I need to ask you something.”
“What?”
“No matter what happens, Hatchet Jack will be coming after you, right?”
“I’m counting on it.”
Felicity took a deep breath. “If you can, will you spare his life?”
Ryan’s eye narrowed. “Why?”
“So I can have it.”
“Revenge for your husband?” Krysty asked.
Felicity shook her head. “Not revenge. A reckoning of the spirits. It has to be done, or Spotted Hawk’s spirit will never rest.”
“I can’t promise anything. I’ll do what is necessary, even if that includes sparing his life for you.”
Felicity’s lips compressed, and she turned and walked away.
Ryan shook his head in bewilderment. “I never heard of that spirit-balancing belief before.”
“It’s not too different from balancing Gaia’s earth energies,” Krysty commented. “They’ve got to be maintained on a certain level, or one side will tip and cause a negative- or positive-power avalanche.”
“Avalanche,” he echoed.
Taking Krysty by the arm, he rushed back into the ville, fetching Doc, J.B., Mildred and Jak along the way. Ryan sent Jak and Mildred to the tavern to collect every jugempty, full or otherwisethey could find. Micah was out building fortifications and wasn’t able to object when they poured the acrid contents of some of the jugs onto the ground. They joined the others in Hasslich’s workshop and examined the ten one-gallon jugs for punctures or cracks. All of them were whole.
Prying up the lids of two kegs of gunpowder standing against the wall, Ryan explained his plan. If it failed, the supply of powder would either be inaccessible to the defenders or literally up in smoke.
“If we fill these jugs with gunpowder, drill holes in the corks and if a fuse can be run from each of these jugs and braided and linked to make one long fuse,” Ryan said, “do you think the bang will be big enough to drop the sides of the gorge down on the heads of the Cadre?”
Eyeing the kegs, J.B. replied uneasily, “If the powder is of halfway decent burn quality, yeah. If it isn’t, we’ll just have a fizzle and no way to retrieve the powderunless Hatcher finds it and uses it himself against us.”
“That’s a chance we’ll have to take.”
Hasslich had the proper material for a fuse in the workshop, and Jak and Doc set to work puncturing the corks of the jugs with knives. Mildred and J.B., with the use of a funnel, carefully poured the gunpowder into the jugs. Ryan and Krysty busied themselves partially unbraiding the long loop of fuse, Sprinkling powder along its length, then entwining it again.
When the jugs were filled and the corks punctured, Ryan bound the containers together with rope so if one detonated prematurely, the others wouldn’t be hurled away by the explosion. Putting them all in a big burlap bag, he and Krysty made their way back to the pass. According to his wrist chron, it was nearly five o’clock.