The boy’s voice shook. “I wanted to warn you, but there was shooting out front, so I went round the back by the woodpile. I saw the man pick up the gun. I was too scared to call out in case he saw me. I picked up the axe thinking I might scare him. Only I was too late. He …” The boy paused. “He shot Uncle Will, so I hit him as hard as I could.”

The boy’s voice gave way. Fresh tears welled. Letting go of the farmer’s arm, he lifted a hand to wipe the wetness from his cheeks and looked over his shoulder, his jaw suddenly set firm. “He won’t hurt anyone again, will he?”

“No,” Wyatt said, staring at the axe handle. “No, lad, he won’t.”

An equine snort sounded from close by. Wyatt, glad of the distraction, saw it was Tewanias and Donaldson returning with the captured mounts. Behind them, Billy Drew, flanked by Jem Beddowes, was leading one of the two farm horses, harnessed to a low-slung, flat-bed cart.

As they caught his eye, Wyatt gently released the farmer’s body, stood up and shook his head. “Sorry, Billy. We won’t be needing it after all.”

“He’s gone?” Drew asked.

“Aye.”

“Son?” Drew indicated the boy.

“Nephew,” Wyatt said heavily. “Far as I can tell.”

“Poor wee devil,” Drew said. Then he caught sight of the axe. “Jesus,” he muttered softly.

“What’ll we do with them?” Donaldson enquired, indicating Deacon and the other dead Committee members.

“Not a damned thing,” Wyatt snapped. “They can lay there and rot as far as I’m concerned.”

“Seems fair.” Donaldson agreed, before adding quietly, “And the other two?”

“Them we do take care of. They deserve a decent burial, if nothing else. See if you can find a shovel. It’s a farm. There’ll be one around somewhere.”

“And then?” Beddowes said.

“And then we report back.”

“The boy?”

“He comes with us,” Wyatt said. “We might as well take advantage of the horses, too.” He turned. “Can you ride, lad?”

The boy looked up. “Yes, sir. That one’s mine. He’s called Jonah.” He indicated the horse that Billy Drew had left in the paddock. It was the smaller one of the two.

“There was tack in the barn,” Beddowes offered.

Wyatt turned. “Very well, saddle him up and take this one back. Make sure he’s got plenty of feed and water. We’ll see to the rest.” Wyatt addressed the boy. “You go with Jem; show him where you keep Jonah’s blanket and bridle.”

Hesitantly, the boy rose to his feet. Wyatt waited until he was out of earshot, then turned to the others.

“All right, we’d best get it over with.”