The day had begun badly for Matti. First, as his cavalry troop broke camp, one of the ties that was supposed to hold his bedroll on his saddle broke; and then the spare broke, too! So, by the time he finally got his gear stowed he had to join the rear of the column instead of being at the front in his usual place as a scout. And now, as they were charging up the hill to attack the Croats by that odd-looking building, after working hard to get back to his rightful place near the head of the column, his horse had stepped in a hole, broken its leg, and thrown Matti head over heels to the ground. But that didn't seem to be the worst; Matti had just finished putting his horse out of its misery when a bush had risen out of the ground and aimed an arrow at him. An arrow nocked to one of the strangest bows Matti had ever seen. An arrow three of whose companions were protruding from the backs of three dead Croats not far away.
For the first time in his adult life, Matti Antinpoika, of Captain Gars' troop of cavalry, felt like crying.
"A bush," Matti said to himself, "can't aim an arrow at anyone, so this must really be a person . . . I hope." By this time the bush was making an unmistakable motion for Matti to raise his hands. Not being a fool, hands and arms went as high into the air as he could reach.
Behind him Matti heard his brothers in arms make first contact with the Croats with their cries of, "Gott mit uns! Haakaa päälle!" In front of him he saw that the arrow was no longer aimed at him.
It was the noise that roused Curtis Maggard from a sound sleep. The whuffing, grunting sound of a hog at the slops trough. Except Curtis and his mother had neither trough nor hog. Curtis lay there for a moment, then, as realization of what he was hearing penetrated, he flew out of his bed with a shout. "Mutti, in unserem Garten war ein Wildschwein!" Curtis got the front door of the house open just in time to see a curly tail disappearing into the woods on the other side of their garden as dawn was breaking over the hilltop.
"Damn and blast! Three months getting that garden up to Mom's standards, and now it's all gone in one night." As he surveyed the damage, Curtis marveled at the amount of damage one boar could do. He also decided there would be a substitute to the menu in the Maggard home for a while. Pork for veggies!
As Curtis put on what he thought of as his tree suit, he considered the irony of life that had returned his mother and himself to the land of their birth. Even if it was almost four hundred years early. He also thought about how much better his mother's state of mind had become now that there were so many people to whom she could talk since, for whatever reason, she had never been able to comprehend the English language and very few people in Grantville could converse with her in German. The Ring of Fire had wrought a great change in Hilda Maggard's life.
Finished with both his rumination and his dressing, Curtis picked up his bow as he headed out the door a few minutes later. The bow, in the Mongol style, was one that he had handcrafted as his masterpiece only two years ago. Quiet, with a draw of well over one hundred pounds, this bow, or its earlier, less well-made kin, had kept the Maggard family in food for the nearly five years since the disappearance of Henry Maggard, Curtis' father.
As Curtis entered the woods in pursuit of the hog, his other talent soon became apparent. He made no sound that would be out of place in the forest. In the woods, Curtis Maggard was a wraith. His stealth in the woods gave Curtis a certain reputation in Grantville and its environs. He always got his deer, or pig, or anything else he hunted. He also had never been caught getting his deer, pig, or whatever, despite having never gone through the formality of licensure or worrying about a potential meal being in season or not.
Ninety minutes after he began tracking the big boar, Curtis came upon the bodies of three men and a woman. The woman had been decapitated. After a quick look around, and determining that a large number of horses had gone by at about the same time as people had been killed, Curtis took off in a long-legged lope toward the nearest phone. At the high school.
It was only a few minutes before the realization came that the mysterious riders and Curtis had the same destination. With knowledge came action, and action was a change of path. After following game trails that paralleled the track of the horsemen, Curtis slipped over the top of the ridge above the high school just as the shooting began. He watched with grim satisfaction as he heard five rapid shots and saw five saddles suddenly empty. Hah, he thought to himself, Julie must be down there. Let's see if I can't help out just a bit.
In his camouflage clothing it took little time for Curtis to approach to within a hundred yards of the milling riders in the school parking lot. Three times he nocked an arrow and drew his bow, and three times a horsemen fell. He had just nocked his fourth arrow when he heard more horses coming from behind him. It took only the blink of an eye for Curtis to blend in with the bushes around a deadfall and disappear from sight.
Just as he froze in place, the second group of horsemen galloped past his hiding place. Taking his chance, he let go the arrow he had ready and grabbed another from his quiver. This he hurriedly prepared to fire.
It was then that Curtis realized he had missed his fourth target as he watched the horse that had lunged in the way of his arrow spill its rider and drop to the ground. There also came the realization that he now had an opportunity to take a prisoner. With his bow partially drawn and aimed at the man on the ground Curtis made a small up-and-down motion. That was all it took; the cavalryman's hands and arms went straight up to the sky.
As Curtis approached his prisoner he heard the new arrivals begin yelling, "Gott mit uns! Haakaa päälle!" and saw them begin to assault the rear of the people attacking the school. Trusting in the old saying that the enemy of his enemy was his friend, Curtis lowered his bow and asked, "Do you speak English?" At the look of confusion on the prisoner's face Curtis tried a different question. "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"
Matti stood there with his hands in the air, awaiting his fate. Expecting momentarily to feel the pain of an arrow piercing his heart, he was surprised when the bowman released the tension on the string and let the point drift from being aimed at his chest. The bush spoke: "Gobbledy gook?" His confusion must have transmitted itself to his captor for the next words were, "Do you speak German?"
"Yes! Yes, I do!" said a very relieved soldier. "Are you from Grantville?"
"Right now, I'll ask the questions, if you please," replied the bush. "Who are you people and who are those people who attacked the school?"
Keeping in mind the status of his commander, Matti was careful in his reply. "I am Matti Antinpoika, and we are a troop of Gustav Adolphus' Västgöta under the command of Captain Gars. Those other people are Croats. We picked up their trail two days ago and followed as rapidly as we could. Captain Gars did not—"
The bush interupted. "So, then, you really are the good guys."
"Why, yes, I suppose we are."
"Good, that means you won't stab me in the back while I take care of a little business." With that, the bush turned its back—yes, it was indeed a man, that was now obvious—went to his knees and began heaving the contents of his stomach. After progressing to dry heaves he stood back up, turned around, and found Matti holding a flask out to him.
"Here, my young friend, drink some of this."
Finally rinsing the taste of bile from his mouth, the man told Matti, "Thanks. I've hunted for the pot for years, but I never dreamt I would ever have to kill a man, much less three. It kind of got to me."
"Well, my young friend, you have nothing . . . By the way, just what is your name? I can't go around just calling you my `young friend' now, can I?"
"Curtis Maggard, at your service and most pleased to meet you. I just hope you don't mind if I call you Matti, because I don't think I can get my tongue around that last name of yours.
"I have another question for you, if I may," Curtis continued. "Why is it that when everyone else in that bunch of yours seemed to be coming down the hill in an orderly manner, you were off to this side galloping like a bat out of hell?"
"Because I was trying to catch up. Today has not been one of the best in my life." Matti's hangdog expression as he replied caused Curtis to stifle a laugh. "I was assigned as one of the group to stay near Captain Gars because our good captain gets sometimes too enthusiastic in what he does. Unfortunately, I had some problems with my equipment and, of course, since neither the Croats, nor Captain Gars waited for me, I was left to trail along behind. When we topped the hill up there and I saw that we had caught the Croats I tried my very best to catch up so I could carry out my duty to my captain. But then my horse stumbled and a bush, you, took me prisoner. All in all, not such a good day. Now, will you come and help me get my gear from my horse? Perhaps I can catch up one of those left by a less fortunate Croat, hah!"
As the two men approached the horse to retreive Matti's gear, they both saw that the horse had not stumbled in a hole after all. For there, protruding from where it had shattered the cannon bone in the horse's right front leg, was the fourth arrow Curtis had loosed.
Matti began to first giggle and then laugh hysterically.
As the laughter began to subside, Matti turned to Curtis, pointed, and said, "You! You did this. Why did you shoot my horse? Did some devil put you up to this to finish the work he began this morning?"
As he stood there, not knowing whether to join in the laughter or run like hell, Curtis's thoughts went back to his actions during the fight and the charge of the Västgöta. As the scene unfolded in his mind, realization dawned as to what had really occurred here.
"Matti, which one was Captain Gars?"
"What? What does that have to do with my horse?"
"Please, Matti, humor me. Was he the real big guy with no helmet on?"
Matti, at this point, became completely serious when he answered, "Why, yes. He has a bullet in his neck or back and can't wear a helmet. And you ask this why?"
"Why? Because that's who I aimed that arrow at, Matti! You did your duty. You saved Captain Gars' life."
The next words out of Curtis' mouth were even louder. "MEDIC, MEDIC!!!!"
For the first time in his life, Matti Antinpoika had fainted.