"Hey! Wake up! We need to go, wake up!"

"W-what?"

I open my eyes suddenly. Arthur is shaking me.

"What's wrong?" I ask to his shape in the darkness.

But I soon understand what's the problem: in the distance, on the path, there are four men, armed and with their lanterns lighted.

"The law" Arthur vainly answers me.

Blindly, I collect all my things from the ground and load them on Isabella. Then, without a sound, we mount up and leave.

It must be very soon, or very late, and the sun isn't visible yet.

I yawn while we head South.

"Do you think they were from New Hannover or from Lemoyne?" I ask to Arthur.

"They could also be from Canada, for what I know! The truth is, we are wanted in too many places and for far too many reasons" he answers angrily.

I think I've just found out one of the things that annoy Arthur: been waken in the middle of the night.

We almost reach Saint Denis when he tells me we have to split up. He has to go to the Saint Denis trolley station for a robbery.

"A robbery?" I ask.

"Bronte told Dutch about it. He kindly informed us there are generally a lot money there and he also gave us the permission to take it."

"And don't you think that could be a set up? What he gains from a robbery at the trolley station?"

"I have no idea, but Dutch don't want to lose the opportunity to make some money."

Still not convinced of their decision, I let Arthur go and I head to the camp.

It may be still very early, but Miss Grimshaw is already up and busy and she readily reminds me that I should do the same.

I get to work, but I can't help myself thinking about this robbery.

How can Dutch not realize that Bronte might have lied to him? How can he fall in this kind of traps? When I met him he seemed intelligent and diffident with strangers, and now he believes to some bullshit an italian snake told him?

Moreover, Saint Denis is not like Rhodes. And even less like Valentine. Here there aren't just a couple of men with a golden star on the chest to protect the city. Here there's the police. Thousands of men with the uniform controlling every alley and every corner.

I wonder how's that robbery going and I really hope to be wrong in not trusting Bronte's words.

The answer soon arrives.

Just before lunchtime a wagon shows up with Dutch and Lenny on it.

I immediately understand something went wrong when Dutch has some difficulties getting down the wagon and Lenny has to help him.

I walk closer so to understand better what happened and to understand why I can't see Arthur. With me there are also Hosea, John and Miss Grimshaw.

"What happened?" asks Hosea.

From close up, I see things I haven't noticed in the distance: the two men clothes are dirty and ripped and Dutch has some blood on his forehead.

"It was a set up. We got out of it but just about" answers Dutch.

"He needs to lay down" says Lenny supporting him.

"Oh, I'm fine! I just bumped my head" Dutch replies touching slightly his forehead.

"Where's Arthur?" asks John before I can.

"He's coming, he had to get the horses back" says Dutch walking slowly towards his tent.

"Miss, come. I give you some water to clean Dutch's wound" orders Miss Grimshaw going away too.

Before I follow her, I turn to Lenny. I don't see blood on him, just some dirt.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah, don't worry. He's the worse off" he replies pointing at Dutch.

Miss Grimshaw provides me some water and a clean rug and I head to Dutch's tent. When I get there, he's laying on his bed with his eyes closed.

"Can I?" I ask before stepping inside.

"Of course" he answers without opening his eyes.

I kneel by his side, put the rug into the fresh water, and start dabbing the wound on his forehead.

He makes a smirk, but doesn't say anything.

"How the hell did he fooled me?" he asks more to himself than to me.

"I thought that could be a set up. It doesn't happen everyday that someone invites you to steal in his city" I say.

I don't speak in an aggressive way. I don't want to blame him, I'm tired of doing it. I simply give my opinion with a calm voice.

"Yeah, I should have expected that" he replies with a sigh.

I stop what I'm doing to look at him.

Did he just admit he made a mistake?

When he realizes I stopped, he opens his eyes to look at me.

"Something's wrong?" he asks.

I shake my head and start dabbing the wound again.

Miss O'Shea suddenly enters the tent, panting slightly just like she's run.

"They told me what happened. How are you?" she asks to the man.

"Fine" replies Dutch closing his eyes again.

"But, how did that happen?" she asks again.

"This is not the right moment, Molly. I need to rest for now" answers Dutch coldly.

"I'll take care of that" Miss O'Shea addresses me reaching out a hand to take the rug.

"There's no need, the girl is doing a good job. Could you stop breathing on my neck for a moment! I need to think!" he shouts opening his eyes and looking at her in rage.

Her eyes fill with tears and she goes away without saying a word more.

Surprised by his behavior, I look at Dutch with my mouth half open. He simply sighs and closes his eyes again.

I go back to my work to clean the wound, removing all the blood from his forehead and while I do so, none of us talk. Just when I finish, he speaks again.

"Do you think he'll mind a little visit?" he asks.

I can't understand if he's talking to me or just to himself, so I don't answer.

"We go to his home, we scare him a little and we make him understand he can't treat us like fools and simply get away with it."

"A revenge?" I ask.

"Yeah, I guess I'll think about it" he says in the end.

The sun goes down and people start gathering around the campfires to eat all together.

Arthur comes back and I immediately go ask him if he's wounded. He seems to be fine, but for some bruises.

I go take some stew before getting to the table where the girls are eating. I think they are the only ones who can give me an answer to the question that's buzzing in my head.

I greet them, sit down and tell them about my experience inside Dutch's tent, asking about his reaction to Molly. When I finish, they look at each other.

"You didn't notice anything lately?" Karen asks me.

"What should I have noticed?" I ask in turn.

"They fight. Always. In the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening. They can't even look at each other without fighting" explains Mary Beth.

"But… why?"

"Who knows. Dutch complains about Miss O'Shea and Miss O'Shea complains about Dutch. And she even accused him to hit on me. And on you too. She told him she saw how he was watching you the night of the party" says Mary Beth.

My jaw drops.

"What? But, that's not true! I… he never…" I try to say.

He has never done anything wrong, he never looked at me in a strange way or said something ambiguous.

"Don't mind her. Miss O'Shea treats all the girls in this way. She's incredibly jealous" replies Tilly.

This morning Pearson asked me to go hunt something. The meat was almost finished and, of course, every time someone says the word 'work' the entire camp disappears. So it's Charles and me who had to take care of it, as always.

He's been odd today. He's kept the distance, no physical contact, and he barely talked. When I've asked him if something was wrong, he didn't answered.

I spend the rest of the day working a little, but there isn't much to do, so I take a tour of the surroundings of the camp reaching Kieran's grave.

I kneel near the pile of dirt and smile thinking that he would certainly know how to make me spend my time, maybe with some incredibly boring fishing trip.

Turning around to go back to camp, I see Charles in the distance.

He's seated on the porch steps and from what I can see, he's watching me.

I take my decision and draw closer. If I don't deal with him now, who knows when I'll get another chance to be alone with him.

"Hey, are you peeking at me?" I joke sitting next to him.

He lowers his eyes without answering.

"What's wrong? Have I done something bad?" I ask changing my tone.

"No."

I keep staring at him, waiting for a real answer.

"The other day, when we buried Kieran, I… I attacked Micah and he… he said some things."

"He insulted you. You had the right to get angry" I reply.

"It's not that. He… he's right."

"What do you mean?"

I start to worry.

Charles is saying Micah is right? When has Micah ever been right?

"Maybe I… I'm not…" he begins, but he's interrupted by the door behind us that bursts open and Hosea comes out of it, scowling.

"Oh… sorry" he says when he notices us.

His eyes make me understand that something's wrong: he's nervous. I haven't seen him like this many times, so I guess that it must be for something serious.

"So, what were you saying?" I ask to Charles after Hosea goes away.

"Nothing… never mind" he replies standing up and going away.

What's happening? I think looking at him heading to the other side of the house and disappearing behind the corner.

I sigh and stand up, too.

I have to try to understand what's wrong with him. And Hosea as well.

But when I reach the yard with the dry fountain at the centre of it, there's no trace of Charles. I move my eyes left and right among the tents, but it's like he vanished into thin air.

Hosea, on the contrary, is seated at a table, perfectly visible from where I am. I decide that I'll begin with him getting near him and sitting on the chair next to his.

"Are you alright, Hosea? You seem worried" I say.

"Well, I am. That… hothead will do nothing more than cause new troubles" he answers.

"You're talking about Micah?" I ask.

How many other hotheads there are in this camp?

"Dutch" he replies, pronouncing his name with a resentment I didn't thought him capable of.

And, moreover, I've never heard him talking about Dutch like this. I wonder what he's done to make him so angry.

"What happened?" I ask.

"He wants to take some stupid revenge over that italian. He says it's about business, but I've known him for so many years I can understand when it's personal."

"It's for that thing at the trolley station, isn't it?"

He nods.

I suppose he was talking seriously yesterday. But I don't dislike the idea of seeing some terror on the face of that disgusting man, if Bronte can be called a man.

"What if it's really about revenge? Why do you worry?" I ask.

"We will catch too much attention. O'Driscolls, Pinkertons, bounty hunters, and now Bronte's men as well? It will put us all in danger. We don't need that, we need to go away from here, head West again."

I know he's right, but in this moment the picture of Bronte's scared face has a strong attraction on me.

I hope Dutch will take this revenge. And when he will, I'll make sure to be there.

Here we are.

Arthur and I are riding to a place called Lagras and there Dutch, Bill, John and Lenny are waiting for us to assault Bronte's house.

This morning, first thing, I went to Dutch's tent and asked him when he thought to act, when he had planned to get the revenge over the italian.

He was a little evasive at the beginning, but then I told him I wanted to go with him and his attitude changed. He immediately agreed to let me come - thing that never happened before - and told me his plan. I think he was happy that I agreed with him about this.

Arthur didn't sound as much enthusiastic as Dutch when I told him, but he agreed on riding together to the established place.

At sunset, I prepared Isabella and we left.

So, here we are, walking on the muddy paths of this little village in the centre of the swamp, looking for our companions and the boat that should bring us to Bronte's house.

When we reach them, Dutch greets me with a pat on my shoulder.

I look at him in bewilderment for a little. He's never been so friendly with me.

The man who owns the boat is of color, tall and around forty.

We all get on it and leave the shore.

We're heavy, so we move slowly on the dark green water. I'm seated next to Bill, in the front seats. Right behind me there're Dutch, John and Lenny, and then Arthur and the boat owner in the back.

"Hey Bill, you were sharpshooter in the cavalry, weren't you?" asks Dutch out of nowhere.

"What?" exclaims Bill.

"When we get there maybe you could help with the suppression fire" says Dutch.

"I never said I was no sharpshooter" Bill replies turning around to look at him.

"Oh, that's right. What was it… the nation most loyal latrine digger, wasn't that it?" he laughs.

"Yeah, well I fought and I fought well" replies Bill.

"So you always tell us."

"Taught me something you could do with learning. Them Indians were savages."

"Watch your mouth there boy. Watch it. The only type of savage in these parts are moonshine swilling, pompous, inbred locals" says Dutch with a more menacing tone.

I turn around too, so to look at him in the face while he talks.

"Dutch, I saw things out there…" Bill tries to reply.

"I don't doubt you saw things, Bill, but your tiny little mind was too small to comprehend what you saw. What you saw, was people who lost everything to savagery. The savagery of peasants, failure come from Europe to reap some awful vengeance on God's last creation."

I don't move my eyes from him even when he stops talking.

I didn't thought him to be like this, to have this kind of ideas. I know that I doubted him a lot of times recently, but maybe Arthur, Hosea and Charles were right about Dutch: I got the wrong idea about him and all I have to do is give him another possibility, to truly understand who he is and why he does what he does.

We land on a grassy shore, get down the boat and head to the wall that surrounds the house. Then, we climb the wall and enter the property.

"Lenny, Bill, you're with me. You three, get the left side. If you see a shot, you take it" orders Dutch pointing at John, Arthur and me.

I follow the two men and walking low and quiet, we enter the garden.

When we find a good cover, Arthur pulls the trigger and we start shooting the guards. Bronte has definitely more men that I expected, and I expected a lot. They start shooting us from the balcony on the second floor, so we have to take cover behind the fountain, the pillars of the gazebo and the numerous marble statues scattered in the garden.

"We're coming for you Bronte! So you better send us every man you got!" I hear Dutch shouting while I aim and shoot to everything that moves in the darkness.

When we manage to kill everybody, silence falls.

"This is not over yet, head to the house" commands Dutch.

We kick the door and break into the living room.

Here, more men are waiting for us. They're not many and my companions deal with them in no time.

No-one of those we kill is the man we're looking for.

"He's hiding somewhere, search the house" says Dutch.

"He'd be upstairs" I tell Arthur.

If he's really hiding, it will be in the most remote of the rooms. He's a bastard, not an idiot.

Arthur nods to me and starts getting up the stairs. We have to kill a couple of men more before we finally find him. In… the bathroom.

"Good evening, Mr. Bronte, you remember us?" I ask getting closer.

He takes out a gun and pulls the trigger.

I freeze, terrorized by the idea he was about to kill one of us, but then his pistol doesn't work and he throws it at us, panicked.

I duck just in time and it hits John behind me right in the face.

"Sorry John" I say before turning again to the italian.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry friends, I… name your price, name your price, everybody has a price…" he stutters with a shaking voice.

I get close fast and hit him as hard as I can with my knee in his belly.

He bends over with a whine. Then, John gets near me and punches him on the face making him pass away.

I turn to look at his face and notice his right eyebrow is bleeding.

"I'm sorry for your head. Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'm fine. We should kill him?" he asks pointing at Bronte at our feet.

"No, let's take him to Dutch" answers Arthur on my left.

"You carry him. I ain't touching this piece of shit!" replies John going away.

I turn to Arthur and shrug. He lifts the body and we go back to the stairs.

I expected to hear silence, after we killed all, or almost, of Brontes men, but instead I hear more gunshots and… whistles.

The police arrived.

"Come on, we need to get out of here!" Bill shouts from downstairs.

While Arthur carries Bronte, we cover him.

Kill Bronte's men is a thing, but policemen… they are on the right side. It's us who's doing something wrong and shooting them doesn't feel right, just like when we killed all those lawmen in Valentine. But it's them or us, so I don't have any choice. I'm just sorry that I have to hurt all these innocent people because of this italian asshole.

We shoot a man after the other until we get back.

"Cover us!" orders Dutch to Lenny and me while they load the body on the boat.

We put one on the left and one on the right side of the gate that opens on the shore and keep the policemen busy.

When they're ready, Dutch calls for us and we leave.

We sail silently for a couple of minutes, catching our breath.

This time Dutch is seated on the front with Arthur and John, the passed out Bronte and Bill are on the centre and Lenny and me on the back. This way he is surrounded and has no chance to escape the boat.

After some time Dutch turns around on his seat and slaps Bronte's face waking him up.

"Hey, big man. We gonna ransom you or what?" he asks.

"Oh, you're pathetic" answers Bronte with despise.

"Oh, am I? Cause from where I'm sitting you're the one deserving of pity my friend. All your men, all your money, it weren't no match for a bunch of bumpkins" replies Dutch pointing at all of us.

Bronte follows his hand and looks at each and every one of our faces.

"You are nothing. You do nothing. Mean nothing. Stand for nothing. Me? I run a city and when the law will catch up with you, you will die like nothing."

Then, he moves his eyes on me.

"And you, you can dress like a princess if you want, but you are and always be a peasant, living is shit and hanging out with this scum of the earth."

Not able to restrain myself, I lift a hand and hit him in the face. Then, with trembling hands, I grab him from his neck and speak a few inches from his face.

"You will never be half of what these men are. You will never understand what great values they have, because they have things that you will never possess. You think you have the power? Good, I guess we'll see if your power will save you now."

I let him go breathing heavily and with my hands still shaking.

I want him dead, he doesn't deserve to live. But I can't kill him. Dutch has to do it.

"So, that's what you're great boss taught you, right? That power means nothing. That stupid values like love, family and loyalty means something in this world?" asks the italian looking around him.

"Possess this things is like possessing nothing. Maybe you don't even possess your own men" he adds looking at Dutch right in the eyes.

"A thousands dollars to the man who kills him and sets me free" he proposes.

We look at each other with a sceptic expression on our faces.

"So, what are you gonna say now?" asks Dutch.

"They are even bigger fools than you" replies Bronte.

His voice now is scared. He knows he has played all his cards.

"The law will find you, already the dogs are on their way" he tries to threat us.

"Oh, yeah. Oh, you're right. They are good at smelling filth, uh?" says Dutch with a tone I've never heard.

He takes Bronte's head and pulls it near the water.

Just like I expected he has a terrorized face. A little smile curves my lips.

"So filth has got to be disposed of!" he yells pushing him underwater.

"Your friends the Pinkertons, gonna come and rescue you? You repulsive little maggot!?"

He keeps him under the water. Bronte tries fighting, but Dutch is stronger and angrier. Meanwhile we reach the shore and stop. Bronte stops moving as well.

When his body is lifeless, Dutch pushes it beyond the boat edge, into the water.

Soon, the alligators climb from the bottom of the swamp and start eating him.

"Jesus. What part of your philosophy books cover feeding a feller to a goddamn alligator, Dutch?" asks John.

I look at him, he seems shocked of what just happened. I turn around and look at the others: they seem shocked too. Why?

"The part that covers weakness. It ain't nice, I know it, but it is us, or him. I figure it might as well be him" he replies.

We all get down the boat.

John, Arthur, Bill and Lenny immediately head to the horses, but Dutch doesn't move. He stands on the dock looking at Bronte's body while he's ripped apart from the animals.

At the beginning I'm about to follow the others, but then I stop to look at him. He doesn't seem proud of what he's done, and I can understand him, but it was necessary.

I slowly reach him and stand by his side watching the blood stain in the water getting bigger and bigger.

"You've done the right thing. I know it isn't worth said by me, but I truly think it" I say.

He doesn't answer immediately, first he sighs and nods.

"You really believe in what you said before? On that boat?" he asks looking at me.

"Of course I do. I'm sorry I just realized it now. Maybe I could have spared you some of the troubles I caused" I say with a smile.

When he doesn't reply, I turn my back at him and walk away.

Hello! Hello!

I don't know how you felt when Dutch drowned Bronte. Personally I didn't agree with him, but liked watching the scene all the same. Anyway I must say, Bronte was very well made. Sometimes Italian characters, and especially Italian criminals, are pictured in a very bad way, they are almost parodies, puppets, speaking sicilian dialect when it's not needed. On the contrary, Bronte scared me the first time I saw him, he felt... dangerous. And, I have no idea who the voice actor is and if he is italian or not, but he was great! So well done Rockstar!

Let me know what you think! And if you liked the chapter!

See you soon!