The journey grew harsher as the terrain sloped upward. Their breathing became strained. Their bodies had not recovered, but neither of them complained. By midday, the weaker girl stumbled, nearly falling. This time, she did not say, "Leave me behind."
She only clenched her hand tighter. The gunslinger stopped. He handed her a canteen, the last of their water. She shook her head. "You need it more."
He did not respond. He simply placed it in her hand. A small gesture, but it said everything. Evening approached. They stopped by a rocky outcrop to rest.
For the first time, the two girls spoke on their own. "We are from the Chiricahua tribe," the stronger one said. "My father is the chief." The gunslinger did not react. "They ambushed us on the way back, killed our escorts, then took us."
Apache, she looked straight at him. "You know, if you had not shown up..." She left the sentence unfinished. She did not need to finish it. "Why did you do it?" she continued.
"Why did you save us?" The gunslinger looked out into the distance where the horizon was swallowed in white. "Because no one should be sold." Nothing grand, nothing philosophical, just something simple that this world had long forgotten. The wind began to rise again, but this time they were no longer alone.
Three people, three fates, walking forward together, and for the first time, this was no longer an escape. It was a journey home. Evening fell faster than usual. The sky hung heavy and gray. Warning of another wave of snow about to strike.
The three of them had just made it over a rocky slope when the sound of horse hooves echoed from behind. Not far anymore, the nameless gunslinger stopped. He turned to look shadowy figures slowly emerging through the snow. At least seven of them. Armed, mounted men of Corven Hail.
"They are here," one of the girls whispered. The gunslinger quickly scanned the terrain. A narrow pass ahead. Steep rock walls on both sides. A natural trap.
He turned to the two girls. "Keep going. Do not look back." "What about you?" the other asked. Her voice no longer trembling, but filled with concern.
The gunslinger did not answer. He simply drew his gun. The two girls hesitated, then moved on, step by step, until they disappeared behind the rocks. Now he stood alone. The wind howled louder.
Snow began to fall heavier. The sound of hooves stopped. Seven men stepped into the path, their guns ready. "Come out!" one of them shouted. "You cannot carry both of those women."
No answer, only the wind. The first shot rang out. One man fell from his horse. Chaos erupted. The gunslinger moved like a shadow appearing, disappearing, then reappearing from another angle.