Pushing on through the Australian desert, they kept wary eyes out for predators, human or animal. Neither of them spoke, keeping their own counsel. Trust had not been firmly established between them, or the comradery that forms between battle partners.

They were still in the saddle when dawn came, catching brief cat naps as their horses moved steadily northward. As Lane caught his turn at forty winks, Wilkins was the first to spot something.

"Rueben, heads up," was his soft warning.

Instantly alert, Lane looked up and around, his eyes scanning the terrain. What he saw was a large herd of horses, roughly estimating over four hundred head, all grazing quietly as they covered the landscape. As his surprise wore off a new feeling took its place and he grinned, wickedly delighted. He had the means for his diversion.

Reining Indigo in he studied the herd carefully, seeing if there were any riders out watching them. He noticed Wilkins doing the same, without having to be prompted, and his respect for the younger man popped up a notch.

"Seems like they're out here alone," he commented quietly.

"Seems so," was Rueben's response. "It's a shame too, having all this horseflesh out here for any nefarious individual to take for his own purposes."

Wilkins saw the glint in Lane's eye and grinned.

"Perhaps we should take all these horses back to the station, so those boys won't have to work so hard to round them up later."

"Wilkins, you are a most considerate fellow," chuckling drily he gestured toward the herd. "After you,"

With gentle care the two men approached the herd, the heads of the nearest horses going up as the strangers approached. Like a wave of flowing manes and long faces, the land seemed to ripple as every horse lifted its head to watch them. So as not to stampede them, the two riders separated and came in slowly from an angle to flank the herd. With an almost effortless switch, the large group of animals began to move, allowing themselves to be driven by two strangers.

As the morning progressed the men made their careful trek across the blooming grasslands, leaving the red desert behind them. The large herd was easy enough, seeming well accustomed to being driven back and forth by only a few hands. Staying at least fifty yards apart the two riders were never in direct line with one another, just in case they were spotted.

When sunlight glinted off a large body of water ahead, he hailed Wilkins softly and waved him around. He wanted to scout ahead a little to see what might be awaiting them. Water had a way of attracting life of all kinds.

Indigo moved with the easy stride of a horse accustomed to going silently and he made no noise as they approached the shining waters. The large body of water was a blue diamond as Rueben cautiously rode toward the bank, his eyes scanning the terrain looking for any sign of movement. There were very few trees here, the ground layered in various long grasses and shrubs. There was constant low chatter in the air and he turned his attention to the lake itself.

Pelicans and Ibises were squabbling over feeding rights; their bodies making the banks seem to ripple with moving feathers. Other waterfowls such as ducks, egrets, terns, magpie geese, and painted snipes added to the general din and movement. It was a beautiful spot.

When Indigo shifted beneath him, he stiffened slightly, turning to look where the gelding's ears pointed. A rising dust trail was coming.

"Good boy," swinging from the saddle he pulled Indigo down, gently forcing the roan to his side on the cool grass. Though he did not like being manhandled, the gelding allowed himself to be laid low, but he eyed Lane with retribution.

Slowly reaching over the horse, he pulled a telescope from the saddle bags Abbott had put together for him. With care he lifted the scope to his eye, focusing on the dust cloud. Two riders took shape, riding with the blatant carelessness of overconfidence, engaged in conversation with one another. His smile was grim. It was almost too easy.

Putting the telescope back he tugged a Wo-mur-rāng from his belt and the shaunie from the open saddle bag. They were heavy but comfortable in his hands. Settling easily into the tall grasses, Rueben waited for the riders to come closer. The few days among the aborigines had made his confidence grow.

With patience bred of knowing he had one chance, he waited, perfectly silent and still. Keeping his gaze to one side, he did not directly watch the riders, not wanting to arouse that suspicion all people possessed of being stared at. Instead, he watched their mounts, occasionally glancing up at their faces to make sure they stayed in ignorance of his presence. When they crossed an invisible threshold that put them within range, he rose smoothly. With the force of powerful muscle and fierce determination not to miss, he sent the wooden Wo-mur-rāng spinning.

The nearest rider heard it coming but saw it too late. It hit with a solid thunk and he left the saddle with an agonized cry. Startled, the second rider hesitated a fraction of a second too long. His gaze landed on Rueben as the bone shaunie sailed straight at him. Turning to flee, the heavy bone weapon struck the rider squarely across the back of his neck, dropping him from the saddle. His horse ran a few more paces before slowing, tossing his head in nervous anxiety.

Taking the keen blade of the dagger from his belt Rueben let the roan up and slowly approached the fallen men. He had no idea if they were dead or alive, but he hoped at least one was still alive. Any information gleaned about what awaited him would be invaluable.

The first man lay gasping and wheezing in the grass where he had fallen, clutching his torso with an agonized expression. When he saw Rueben, his eyes widened a little.

"I... I...di-didn't be-believe..." The effort of speech was too much and the man's voice faded though his eyes stayed open.

Glancing at the other, he noted the rider hadn't moved or made any sound. Cautiously making his way to him, Rueben knelt. A brief check for a pulse indicated life was no longer pumped through the body, so he felt along the back of the man's neck. An uneven ridge indicated a broken spinal column. He had been dead before he hit the ground. Retrieving his weapons, Rueben went back to the live man and knelt at his side.

"You work for Prescott." The man nodded weakly.

"S-so do you..." the injured rider's voice was barely above a whisper and Rueben leaned forward, keeping a wary eye on the man's hands.

"What's your name, buster?"

"No-noah said y-you was actin' f-funny..." the man swallowed painfully and tried to take a deep breath, coughing violently. "Name's Ty-Tyrone Mahler..."

"Then you got what was coming to you, Mahler. You should have made sure I was dead before you left me in the dirt."

"Th-thought you wa-was," grimacing, Mahler coughed. "W-won't make th-that mistake ag..." He stopped breathing before he finished his sentence, his eyes glazing over as the light behind them went out.

Standing, Rueben dusted off his pants before he approached Indigo, ready to swing into the saddle. A soft hail turned his head, seeing Wilkins approach warily as he eyed the fallen bodies.

"Was wondering what kept you so long, is that everyone?" Wilkins indicated the two.

"Yes, got no information at all from that one, the other was dead on contact." Lane gestured, reaching for the saddle horn.

An abrupt movement preceded a sharp pain that bit into his arm. Flinching with an oath, Rueben glared at his mount. Indigo stood quietly, but his ears were laid back as he stared directly at him.

"What was that for?" Irritable, he fingered the hole in his shirt, checking to see if the gelding had broken skin. "Blasted horse!"

Indigo merely tossed his head and snorted loudly. The look on the roan's face as he had been made to lie down flashed to Rueben's mind. The gelding had made his point and taken a little revenge. He did not like being manhandled.

"You onery piece of horseflesh."

Wilkins knew better than to laugh, but he could not keep the wide smile from his face. Rueben muttered a sullen oath and swung into the saddle.

"Shut up."

"Not saying a word." Jim managed to keep a straight face, following Rueben's lead.

The two made their way back to the herd and continued their drive, letting the horses' water at the lake before moving on. Lane wanted to reach the station before Mahler and his partner were missed. Wilkins was silent for a long while then he spoke.

"I think you should let me in on the secret,"

The sun was beginning to dip toward the western horizon as evening approached. Reining in, Rueben turned to face the younger man.

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning, how do you intend to get to Prescott?"

Taking off his hat, Rueben wiped his brow and then the sweatband before answering. His gaze stayed on the horizon as he spoke.

"Words out that I'm alive. Prescott knows, so whatever plan I had is no longer viable."

"Which means?"

"I have to wing it."

"Wing it?" Tone sharp, Wilkins stared at him, incredulously. "Against Quinton Prescott and all his men, you're going to wing it?"

"I'm out of time, Jim." Lane settled his hat back on and glanced at Jim briefly. "He's got a woman in there who's better than the lot of them, and I intend to see her set free unharmed. You can still back out, no hard feelings."

Silently considering that for a moment, he sighed meeting Rueben's gaze.

"I'm in. How can I help?"

"I need a layout of Prescott's station and where Olivia might be held. Then we use the herd as a diversion so I can get her out before they realize what's happening. I'll get your payment while I'm in there."

"While I can understand your single-minded approach, exactly what am I supposed to do while you start a war at Prescott's front door?"

"Once I get Olivia out, you get her away from here, as far as you can go. Keep her safe until this is over."

"You want me to run?" Wilkins bristled a little, feeling slighted. "I'm no coward!"

"No one is saying you are, but this is my fight. I don't want any more lives lost because of me. I'm the one Prescott is after, so I'm the one to face him."

"You don't expect to live through this, do you,"

"The thought had occurred to me," Shrugging casually, Rueben kept his face blank. He wanted to live; he wanted to go back to Harmony. Deep inside, he had a feeling he would not. The tides of his life were changing, he could feel it.

Watching him, Jim Wilkins was beginning to understand what was driving his companion. It was a powerful need to understand what kind of man he had been and to find redemption for all the atrocities he had committed but could not remember.

"I'll help you, Rueben. Even if it means running away." May Matt rest in peace.