He took one final document.
A ledger.
The names of every official Vance had paid.
They ran.
Outside, horses waited.
The chase began immediately.
Vance's men followed.
Bullets struck rocks around them.
Tazhaa fired back.
One rider fell.
Corvin rode harder.
They reached the narrow gorge just before midnight.
Then Corvin stopped.
Tazhaa looked at him.
"What?"
Corvin held up the ledger.
"We don't run."
She stared.
"We make them chase us."
"Why?"
"Because I know where the canyon ends."
Tazhaa smiled.
"Stone Throat."
Corvin nodded.
"It is too narrow for forty riders."
"And too narrow for eighty cavalrymen."
Corvin looked at her.
"You knew?"
"My father knows every stone."
"Then send word."
Tazhaa raised two fingers.
A scout disappeared into darkness.
Within minutes, another signal returned.
Her father was coming.
Nantan Biche.
And he was bringing warriors.
Not dozens.
Hundreds.
Corvin looked toward the distant horizon.
By sunrise, Cold Springs would become the center of a confrontation that could change the territory forever.
The Apache warriors arrived before dawn.
Corvin never heard them.
That frightened him more than if they had arrived shouting.
One moment, the ridges were empty.
The next, they were covered with riders.
Hundreds of them.
They occupied the high ground around Cold Springs.
At their center rode Nantan Biche.
He was an old man with silver hair and a powerful presence.
He dismounted slowly.
Tazhaa approached him.
She spoke in Apache.
Her father looked at Corvin.
For several seconds, neither man moved.
Then Nantan Biche extended his hand.
Corvin took it.
The old chief's grip was strong.
He said something.
Tazhaa translated.
"My father says the water you gave his daughter became a debt."
Corvin shook his head.
"I didn't give it expecting payment."
Tazhaa smiled.
"That is why the debt is larger."
Corvin looked at the warriors.
"They cannot fight the army."
Nantan Biche spoke again.
Tazhaa translated.
"My father says he does not intend to fight the army."
Corvin frowned.
"What then?"
The old chief pointed toward the south.
Dust was rising.
Cavalry.
Captain Marcus Thorne had arrived.
Eighty soldiers.
The same man named in Vance's ledger.
Corvin understood.
"They'll see your warriors."
Tazhaa shook her head.
"Not if they don't want to."
The warriors disappeared.
Within minutes, the ridges were empty.
Corvin stared.
"How?"
Tazhaa smiled.
"Your eyes are trained to find men."
She looked toward the rocks.
"Ours are trained to find places where men are not."
Corvin almost laughed.
"That's unsettling."
"Good."
They prepared the trap.
Corvin would remain at the ranch.
The ledger would be visible.
The gold would be visible.
The cavalry would assume he had stolen Vance's property.
Then Corvin would retreat toward Stone Throat.
Thorne would follow.
The Apache warriors would wait there.
The plan depended on one thing.
Thorne's greed.
At eleven in the morning, the cavalry arrived.
Captain Marcus Thorne rode at the front.
He was broad, red-faced, and angry.
He looked toward the ranch.
Then saw Corvin sitting on the porch.
A leather bag lay beside him.
Thorne dismounted.
"Where is Vance?"
"Dead."
Thorne's eyes narrowed.
"Who killed him?"
"His own greed."
Thorne drew his pistol.
"You're under arrest."
"For what?"
"Murder."
Corvin held up the ledger.
"Then you'll want this."
Thorne's expression changed.
Corvin opened it.
"Payments to Captain Marcus Thorne."
The cavalrymen behind him became silent.
Thorne's face turned white.
"You forged that."
Corvin smiled.
"Then why are you sweating?"
Thorne raised his pistol.
Corvin mounted his horse.
"Come and take it."
He rode south.
Thorne followed.
The cavalry thundered behind him.
Corvin reached Stone Throat.
He stopped.
Turned.
Then waited.
Thorne rode into the canyon.
"End of the road!"
Corvin looked upward.
"Yes."
Thorne followed his gaze.
His expression collapsed.
Three hundred Apache warriors stood along the cliffs.
Tazhaa was in the center.
Nantan Biche stood beside her.
Every rifle pointed downward.
Every bow was drawn.
Thorne looked around.
His eighty men were trapped.
Corvin spoke calmly.
"Drop your weapons."
Thorne raised his pistol.
Then he looked at the cliffs again.
He understood.
He could not win.
Not here.
Not today.
His revolver slipped from his hand.