Ring of Fire II(227)

"And now, we must dig two graves. Mr. O'Connor, perhaps there is some tool in the wagon that might serve."



"We didn't bring any shovels," said Allen O'Connor uncertainly. His voice was a little shaky, maybe, but not much. He certainly didn't seem stricken by grief. Leaving aside the shock of the sudden blood-letting, Denise didn't think many of the defectors—leaving aside the cretin Billie Jean and Caryn Barlow—had any serious personal attachment to the two dead men. Simmons' wife was a down-timer, a widow he'd married the year before. But she wasn't in the group. Mickey must have decided to abandon her when he defected.



And the baby they'd had a few months ago. And his two step-children by his wife's first marriage.



The shithead.



Qualifying that, the now-dead shithead. And good riddance.



O'Connor's son Neil started digging amongst the goods piled in the wagon. "I'll find something."



Marina Barclay swallowed. "Are you sure, Mr. Drugeth? I mean, you were saying we needed to move as soon as . . ."



Her voice trailed off, as it must have dawned on her that she was perilously close to "obstruction and dispute." Nervously, she eyed the sword.



But either Drugeth was inclined to be lenient toward women—Billie Jean, still gasping for breath, supported that theory—or he was simply not given to bloodshed for the sake of it. That theory was supported by everything else Denise had seen.



Including his next words.



"They are not animals, to be left to scavengers. Time presses, yes, but God created time also. Everything we do is watched by Him."



Noelle got off her horse, holding a small spade that she'd retrieved from her saddlebag. "Let's get started," she said. "Officer Drugeth is right." She seemed quite calm, although with Noelle you never knew. She was the kind of person who clamped down her emotions under stress. She didn't so much as glance at Drugeth.



Less than half a minute later, having found a good spot, she started digging. Drugeth came up and offered to replace her. But, still without looking at him, she shook her head.



"You can spell me when I get tired. This'll take a while."



Denise started digging alongside her—more like just breaking up the ground—with a heavy stick she found in the woods. Meanwhile, the two male O'Connors and Tim Kennedy dug the other grave, with some tools they'd found in the wagon and a spade that Gardiner had in his own saddlebags.



When Noelle did relinquish the shovel to Drugeth, maybe half an hour later, she finally looked at him.



"What is your rank?"



He was back to that sad-eyed sorrowful-look business. "It is quite complicated, and depends mostly on the situation. For now, 'captain' will do."



She nodded, still with no expression. "Why did you kill him, Captain Drugeth? You'd already disarmed him."



"Literally," muttered Denise; again, having to fight off a semi-hysterical giggle.



"I am not certain," was the soft reply. "I fear some of it was simply ingrained reflex, although I strove to contain it. First, because it would have been a struggle to keep him alive on the journey, with such a wound, and would inevitably have slowed us down. Second, because I decided if I didn't kill one of them now, I would have to kill one of them later. Perhaps more. They are undisciplined people, prone to emotional outbursts. That was bad enough before you appeared to make it worse. Clearly, they have an animus against you."



He took a long breath. "And, finally, because he was not essential to my mission. Not even important, really. Neither was Simmons."



The two of them stared at each other.



"Just like that?" she asked abruptly.



"At the time, yes. Just like that. In the time to come, of course, it will be different. I will spend many hours of my life thinking about the deed. And praying that I did not transgress His boundaries."



Noelle looked away, for a few seconds. "Yes," she said. "I understand."



She handed him the shovel and climbed out of the shallow pit. "I will give you my parole, Captain Drugeth."



"The others?"



"Eddie will too. So will Lannie and Keenan, probably, but I wouldn't believe Lannie or Keenan if they told me the sun rose in the east. It's not that they're dishonest. Just . . . forgetful."



He smiled. "Much like several of my cousins."



Now, he looked at Denise.



"You can take her word for anything," said Noelle. "If you don't mind it coming with vulgar qualifiers."



Denise scowled. "Well, thank you very much."



Drugeth just looked at her, saying nothing.