Chapter 2

Alonzo pulled Angelica up short, his heart plummeting to his stomach. Their prey wasn’t an animal. And not something to be put out of its misery.

Scrub brush dotted the landscape, roughening the surface of the earth in spite of a dusty trail that wound distinctly toward the darkening sky. There weren’t many trees here, but on a slight rise some fifty feet ahead stood a tall yellow oak, its light gray bark almost silver in the setting sun. Gnarled limbs reached for the heavens, while the long, coarse leaves fluttered in the slight breeze. Its lowest branch had to be a good eight feet off the ground. Apparently, that hadn’t stopped someone from stringing a man from it. Upside down.

His long, sun-darkened body dangled from the ropes binding his feet to the thick branch, while heavy chains manacled his wrists together where they hung below his head. He was stretched to his limit, the weight of the irons keeping him from pulling up to work on the knots around his bare ankles. All he wore was a pair of dirty trousers. The finely corded muscles of his arms and shoulders gleamed in a wet sheen.

Alonzo swallowed the bile in the back of his throat. The dampness wasn’t just sweat from exposure to the sun. Rivulets of blood streaked down the man’s back, dripping steadily onto the thirsty ground below him.

Alonzo dug his heels into the Angelica’s ribs, kicking her into a run. Or as close to a run as the old, white donkey could manage. The man barely acknowledged him as he stopped just short of his hanging body. He wasn’t dead, though. His muscles still quivered every time a fly landed on a stream of blood. But he would be if he didn’t get cut down, soon.

“?Se?or?” Alonzo hunched down beside him, taking a white handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the blood coating his mouth and nose. “?Se?or?”

Though the thick lashes flickered, they didn’t part. His lips did. The tip of his tongue appeared to moisten the cracked skin, and the muscles of his throat worked as he tried to swallow. A groan escaped him, as rough and ragged as his breathing. But he didn’t otherwise acknowledge Alonzo’s aid.

Alonzo straightened and studied the knots at the man’s ankles. He would be able to cut through the rope without too much trouble, but that wasn’t his real concern. He didn’t want to drop the poor man on his head, but he wouldn’t be able to support the man’s weight.

He returned to Angelica and took the knife from her saddlebags. He had his rain slicker rolled up on the back, and he grabbed that with his canteen of water. He unfolded and laid the coat down on the ground beneath the man, so at least he would not land on anything sharp or that could cause further damage.

The knots were tight, but the rope wasn’t as thick as it could have been. Alonzo cut the first cleanly. The second was more difficult, the strands pulled taut from the man’s weight. When it gave way, the man cried out, loud enough to startle Alonzo into stepping back.

“Wait.” The deep voice was hoarse and halting. Alonzo crouched down to see the man had finally opened his eyes, blinking more than once to clear the dried blood that had stuck some of his lashes together. “Give me…moment.” He tried to take a deep breath, only to wince in pain. “Can…help.”

Alonzo opened his canteen and wet the corner of the kerchief with a dab of the precious water. He wiped it across the man’s lips, smearing the liquid across the dry skin. His tongue flicked out, clearly seeking more water, but Alonzo knew he couldn’t give him more. Not yet.

“I’ll not let you fall,” Alonzo promised. “Are you ready?”

“Wait.” The muscles in his arms tensed. Though the chains forced his arms straight anyway, the man stretched the rest of the way to brace his hands against the dusty ground. His breathing became audible, but he did not otherwise make any sound of discomfort. “Now.”

Alonzo wrapped his arm around the man’s knees, holding him tightly as he brought the blade to the rope. He sawed into the rope’s fiber, freeing it a strand at a time, until the last one finally snapped. Alonzo nearly stumbled beneath the sudden weight of the man, but he kept his feet. With the stranger’s help, Alonzo managed to gently lower him to the rain slicker.

Alonzo immediately knelt at the man’s shoulder and cradled his head, lifting it slightly so he could put the canteen to his mouth.

At first, the water ran down his cheeks, but within a few moments, the stranger managed to tighten his lips around the mouthpiece and swallow some of it down. The sharp angles of his jaw and nose were more acute in a supine position, but the skin stretched over them—while blood-stained—was unmarked. All the blood came from his lower body. Alonzo could do nothing more than glance at the raw stripes crisscrossing his flesh.