Free Blood of Iron Eyes by Rory Black Page A

hunter. The blacksmith knew that at any moment the bony hands might drag them from the belt and start dishing out their own brand of justice – 36-calibre justice.
    Iron Eyes’ infamous legend had reached this remote town long before he had physically appeared.
    Hume licked his dry lips and tried to speak. His throat was too tight to allow even a single word to pass between them. Again his eyes were drawn to the pair of matched Navy Colts pushed into Iron Eyes’ pants’ belt. Their grips jutted out defiantly at the blacksmith as he limped toward the horses.
    ‘I need me a horse!’ Iron Eyes said bluntly. ‘Nothin’ fancy. Just an animal that can gallop until it drops and ain’t frightened of gunplay!’
    Hume turned slowly and attempted to compose himself.
    ‘Two of these nags belong to townsfolk. The others are mine. Take ya pick.’
    Iron Eyes looked up and down the stalled mounts.
    ‘Which one is the best?’
    ‘The grey,’ Hume answered quickly. ‘He’s the most reliable when it comes to bein’ sure-footed!’ 
    Iron Eyes limped to the grey horse and stared at it coldly. He had never liked horses and yet found that they were the one thing he could not do without .
    ‘How much?’
    ‘F-forty dollars.’ Hume stammered nervously. He was too scared to ask more, even though he knew that the grey was probably worth double. ‘Is that OK?’
    ‘Fine!’ Iron Eyes muttered.
    Hume felt a little less frightened. Then a thought suddenly occurred to him.
    ‘How did ya get here without me hearing ya, Iron Eyes?’ he asked innocently.
    ‘A friend gave me a ride up to ya corral. I limped the rest of the way.’
    ‘But I never heard them spurs of yours make even the smallest of noises!’ Hume pointed at the large spurs attached to the mule-eared boots. ‘I don’t get it!’
    ‘They’re kinda rusted up with blood!’ the bounty hunter responded quietly. ‘Horse blood!’
    ‘Oh!’ Hume gulped.
    Iron Eyes glanced at the blacksmith again. This time his eyes were narrowed and seemed to have fire in their blazing gaze.
    ‘Ya ain’t seen my saddle and bags, have ya? My horse was shot earlier today outside the saloon.’
    Without a second’s hesitation Hume nodded his head slowly and pointed to the corner. The saddle and bridle were there with the saddle-bags on top of a bale of hay.
    ‘There! I had to use a wagon to drag ya horse here from the Spinning Wheel after that gunfight. I buried it out back. I put all ya gear over there. I never opened the bags.’
    Iron Eyes said nothing.
    He limped to the pile of his only possessions, plucked up the bags off the saddle and opened both satchels. He studied the contents carefully. His eyes then returned to the nervous blacksmith.
    ‘What’s ya name?’
    ‘Will Hume,’ the blacksmith replied.
    ‘Ya an honest man, Will Hume. Damn honest.’ Iron Eyes said.
    Hume felt as if a weight had been lifted from his powerful shoulders. For the first time since encountering the strange figure, he felt that Iron Eyes had no intention of killing him. He watched as the bounty hunter slowly limped back towards him with the bags over his left forearm.
    ‘Ya must have seen the golden eagles in my bag?’ Iron Eyes queried before adding: ‘Most men could not have resisted that kinda temptation.’
    ‘I told ya. I never looked,’ Hume said. ‘I figured that ya would come back for ya goods if’n ya lived long enough. And by the looks of all them bodies that was stacked up on main street, I reckoned you was mighty hard to kill.’
    ‘I still say that ya honest!’ 
    ‘Reckon so!’
    Iron Eyes held out his hand and offered two fifty-dollar gold pieces to the blacksmith. They glinted in the lantern-light.
    Hume looked at them and shrugged.
    ‘I ain’t got me any money, Iron Eyes. I can’t break even one gold piece.’
    Iron Eyes leaned closer and pushed the coins into the man’s vest-pocket.
    ‘Keep them. Ya earned the difference.’
    Hume’s face lit up.
    ‘I thought