This excerpt is from chapter two in the third book of the Sundowners series; Tyler and Fivehawk encounter an uncommon cloth-swaddled fighter on a snowy mountain pass...

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For a split-second, Tyler hesitated as his mind filled up with images of huge wolves with eyes like red embers, and then the attacker was on the Indian, crashing into him and barrelling Fivehawk over. It was a human figure, swaddled in rags and cloth strips against the cold, with a bandage-concealed head that reminded him of an Egyptian mummy.

Fivehawk felt all the air leave his lungs in a painful whoosh as his assailant landed feet-first on his torso; dazed, he tumbled and rolled into a heap, wheezing. The raggedy figure turned on its' heel and sprang at Tyler like a cat.

The cowboy's hand flashed towards his gun and drew the weapon, but he was a heartbeat too slow - Raggedy's arms spun up at him like sword blades and connected with his pistol arm and his chin, sending his Peacemaker up and out of his grip. The impact was enough to set the weapon off, and a single shot broke through the cold air like thunder.

Tyler stumbled back a step and swayed, fighting to keep his balance - perhaps they'd been caught unawares by this dirt-bag, but he wasn't about to roll over nice and easy for him. The cowboy shook off the pain in his arms and raised his fists, boxer style.

"Put up your dukes, Rag-man! Let's have at it!"

Then Raggedy did something Tyler had never seen before, in a hundred different fistfights and punch-ups; he pivoted on a heel like a can-can dancer and brought his other leg up in a spinning kick. Tyler tried to block it and missed by a country mile. The canvas sole of Raggedy's shoe connected with his temple and he twisted away, dropping like a felled tree with bright lights exploding inside his skull.

Fivehawk was back on his feet by now, and he shrugged off his long coat as the attacker turned back to face him. From a pocket in his buckskin jacket, the Indian drew the stubby shape of a tomahawk and spun it around his hand. He advanced, eyes never leaving his foe. Raggedy's expression was invisible behind his shroud of cloth, but Fivehawk swore he could see the glitter of sharp eyes behind two rough rips in the mask. He seemed to nod to himself, and then his hand darted into a pocket and emerged again with a length of pole, no longer than Fivehawk's forearm.

Raggedy flicked it and it fell open to twice its' length - there were actually two poles, connected to each other by a short span of chain. The Indian had a split second to wonder over the manner of this weapon before Raggedy flicked it up and spun it around his head, over his arms and out, twirling the end so it spun like a windmill. Fivehawk kicked at a clump of snow by his feet, and flicked it into the air; at the same moment, he lunged with his axe and slashed downward. Raggedy blocked with his weapon and the blade sang as it glanced off the spinning pole.

Fivehawk tried again and cried out at the weapon cracked across his knuckles. Still, he held the tomahawk firmly, and cut outward, across the attacker's chest. The lip of the axe blade sheared through a quarter-inch of the cloth on Raggedy's chest, making some of it drop away into the snow. He replied with a hit on Fivehawk's chin that staggered him backward, and then Raggedy moved in to deliver the coup de grace. The Indian saw it coming and brought up the tomahawk. Raggedy flipped the weapon over into an X shape, and the chain met the axe head with a flash of sparks; suddenly Fivehawk and the cloth-wrapped assailant were locked in a test of strength.

A well-oiled click gave them both a moment's pause. Staggering to his feet, his recovered Peacemaker in his hand, Tyler aimed the pistol carefully at the fighters. He wobbled slightly, the foot-in-the-head still having robbed him of some balance.

"Okay, playtime is over, Rag-man. Why don't you reach for the sky and drop that…uh, whatever it is?"

"Tyler!" Fivehawk hissed, "Miss and you'll hit me!"

The cowboy blinked. "Oh, p'shaw. I can shoot the wings off a fly at two hundred yards, so plugging this guy right between the eyes will be a piece of cake."

If Raggedy understood, their attacker gave no sign; but then Fivehawk felt the tension relax and the figure stepped away, still holding the pole-chain weapon, ignoring Tyler's demands.

The Indian studied him for a moment. "He kicks like a mule…but he doesn't smell like one. Whoever this is, he's not one of Drache's outriders."

"Holy Cats, you mean we got another set of bad guys to be worried about? We gotta beat the outriders and a bunch of tree-hiding snow mummies?"

"You fight outriders?" A muffled voice emerged from the bandaged figure.

"We do." Fivehawk said warily. "Are you their ally?"

Raggedy's body tensed. "No! I am revenge! I am the living storm that will wipe them off the face of this mountain!" The smothered voice was angry and sharp.

"Then we should not fight. Our path is one shared." The Indian put away his tomahawk and spread his hands in a gesture of peace. "I am Fivehawk, a wanderer of the Ulanutani tribe. The Paleface is Tyler."

"Pleased to meet ya." Gabriel interjected, holding the gun steady.

Raggedy pocketed the weapon and reached up, unwinding the cloth strips. They fell away to reveal a shock of unkempt, shoulder-length black hair and a pale, golden face with almond-shaped eyes. "My name is Yu Lim."

"A woman!" Fivehawk said in surprise.

Tyler dropped his pistol back into the holster. "Yeah, and let's not forget, a woman who just kicked us up and down the mountain."

Fivehawk opened his mouth to speak, but a distant sound came to his ears; the baying of wolves. "Guardians." He hissed.

"What?" Tyler's eyes darted around. "Now?"

"Perhaps word of our arrival spread faster than we thought. We must find a place to conceal ourselves, or else they will trap us up here."

"But what about the horses? We can't just leave them to be found..."

"I know a place." Yu Lim interrupted. "A cave, not far from here."

The two men exchanged glances.

"Can we trust her?" Tyler asked. The sounds of the wolves were closer now, and there were the rough-voiced shouts of men among them.

"Do you have a better idea?"

Tyler scowled then gestured to the Chinese woman. "Well, then. Lead on, Miss."

© J.Swallow, 2001.

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