Read Online Range War (9781101559215) by C. J. Cherryh - Free Book Online

kicked at his knee. Fargo managed to shift so that his shin took the blow but it still hurt like hell and he stumbled and nearly fell.
    â€œI will kill you, gringo!”
    Fargo smashed his fist into the young sheepherder’s jaw.
    The blow rocked Carlos onto his heels but he was tougher than he looked and didn’t go down. Hooking a foot behind him, Fargo tripped him and slammed him onto his back. As they crashed down Fargo contrived to ram his knee into Carlos’ gut. It had the desired effect—Carlos cried out, and his knife arm went slack.
    Fargo slugged him, and Carlos went limp.
    â€œWhat is the meaning of this?”
    It was Porfiro.
    Fargo stood and stepped back. “I reckon your grandson isn’t too fond of me.”
    Porfiro squatted and plucked the knife from the wet grass.
    â€œMy grandson has always had a bad temper. What set him off?”
    â€œYou’d have to ask him,” Fargo hedged. To admit the truth might get Delicia in trouble.
    â€œI napped during the storm,” Porfiro said. “Constanza just woke me and I came out to see how you were. You should have come inside with us where it is dry.”
    â€œI was fine out here.”
    Porfiro looked down in disappointment at the fruit of his family’s loins. “I am sorry, Senor Fargo. This was no way to treat a guest in our camp.”
    â€œForget it.”
    â€œHow can I? He shames us with his behavior.” Porfiro gave a shake of his head. “But we have other matters to discuss, do we not?”
    â€œThe cowboys.”
    â€œ Si ,” Porfiro said. “Alejandro has told me what the vaquero said about this man called Trask, and how he hates our kind. It does not bode well.”
    â€œNo,” Fargo agreed. “It doesn’t.”
    â€œIt is not enough we have the Hound to deal with,” Porfiro said. “What have we done that God inflicts so many difficulties on us?”
    â€œI’m no parson,” Fargo said.
    â€œI am worried, senor. My people mean more to me than the breath of life. I have led them for more than twenty years, and I think of them as my children.”
    â€œYou’re a good man, Porfiro.”
    â€œNot good enough or I would have solutions to our problems. The beast kills us, the cowboys say they want to kill us.” The old sheepherder closed his eyes and rubbed his brow. “I am afraid I am not equal to the task of protecting those I care for.”
    â€œYou’re doing all you can.”
    â€œIt’s not enough, senor.” Porfiro looked at Fargo, his eyes haunted by the prospect of the possible horrors to come. “Advise me, senor. Help me help my people.”
    Before Fargo could reply, hooves drummed and two of the men who had gone out with guns were back.
    â€œThe sheep!” one of them exclaimed. “So many sheep!”
    The other one nodded and crossed himself.
    â€œCalm down, Lorenzo,” Porfiro said to the first. “What has happened?”
    â€œYou must see for yourself,” Lorenzo said.
    â€œWe sought shelter from the rain in the woods,” the other man related. “When the storm was over we resumed our hunt for the Hound, and that is when we found them.”
    â€œCome,” Lorenzo said. “Rapidamente.”
    â€œI must saddle my horse,” Porfiro said.
    â€œI’ll tag along,” Fargo offered.
    In ten minutes the four of them were galloping hard to the southwest. Sheep were everywhere.
    Presently they came to a rocky spine Fargo had passed on his way to the cowboy camp. A hundred yards farther was another. Fargo remembered seeing a lot of sheep in the horseshoe-shaped area in between when he was on his way to visit the cowboys.
    â€œBrace yourselves,” Lorenzo warned.

16
    The sheep Fargo had seen were still there. Sixty or seventy, by his reckoning—and all of them dead.
    â€œGod in heaven!” Porfiro cried, aghast.
    They lay singly or in clusters, most