when he became aware of a familiar heartfire making toward him in the crowd. He spoke before turning around. "Jim Bowie," he said.
Bowie smiled at him-a big, warm smile, which made Alvin check to see if the man's hand was on his knife. Nowhere near, but that didn't mean much, as Alvin well knew, having seen the man in action.
"Still here in Barcy," said Bowie.
"I thought you and your expedition would be long gone."
"We almost made it before they closed the ports," said Bowie. "Cuss the King for making such a mess of things."
Cuss the King? As if Bowie weren't part of an expedition committed to spreading the power of the King into Mexican lands.
"Well, the fever will pass," said Alvin. "Always does."
"We don't have to wait for that," said Bowie. "Word's just come down from the Governor-General of Nueva Barcelona. Steve Austin's expedition can go ahead. Any Cavaliers who are with us can get passage out on a ship bound for the Mexican coast."
"I reckon that gave recruitment a big boost."
"You bet," said Bowie. "The Spanish hate the Mexica worse than they hate Cavaliers. I reckon it has something to do with the fact that King Arthur never tore the beating hearts out of ten thousand Spanish citizens to offer as a sacrifice to some heathen god."
"Well, good luck to you."
"Seeing you in the market here, I got to say, I'd feel a lot better about this expedition iffen you were along."
So you can find a chance to stab me in the back and get even for my humiliating you? "I'm no soldier," said Alvin.
"I been thinking about you," said Bowie.
Oh, I'm sure of that.
"I think an army as had you on their side would have victory in the bag."
"There's an awful lot of bloodthirsty Mexica, and only one of me. And keep in mind I'm not much of a shot."
"You know what I'm talking about. What if all the Mexica weapons went soft or flat-out disappeared, as once happened with my lucky knife?"
"I'd say that was a miracle, caused by an evil god who wanted to see slavery expanded into Mexican lands."
Bowie stood there blankly for a moment. "So that's how it is. You're an abolitionist."
"You knew that."
"Well, there's folks who are just agin slavery and then there's abolitionists. Sometimes you can offer a man a good bit of gold and he don't mind so much how many slaves another fellow owns."
"That would be someone else," said Alvin. "I don't have much use for gold. Or expeditions against the Mexica."
"They're a terrible people," said Bowie. "Bloody-handed and murderous."
"And that's supposed to make me want to go fight them?"
"A man don't shrink from a fight."
"This man does," said Alvin. "And you would too, if you had a brain."
"The Mexica won't stand up to men as knows how to shoot. On top of that, we're bound to have thousands of reds from other tribes join with us to overthrow the Mexica. They're tired of having their men sacrificed."
"But you'd restore slavery. They didn't like that either."
"No, we wouldn't enslave the reds."
"There's lots of black former slaves in Mexico."
"But they're slaves by nature."
Alvin turned away and picked a half-dozen melons to put in his poke.
Bowie poked him hard in the arm. "Don't you turn your back on me."
Alvin said nothing, just offered a couple of dimes to the melon seller, who shook his head.
"Come on now, this is for kids in an orphanage," said Alvin.
"I know who it's for," said the farmer, "and the price of melons today is ten cents each."
"What, it took so much more work to raise these? They plated with gold inside?"
"Take it or leave it."
Alvin pulled some more money from his pocket. "I hope you're proud of profiting from the neediness of helpless children."
"Nobody helpless in that house," murmured the farmer.
Alvin turned away to find Bowie standing in his way.
"I said don't turn your back on me," Bowie murmured.
"I'm facing you now," said Alvin. "And if you don't take your hand off your knife, you'll lose something dear to you- and it ain't made of steel, no matter how you brag to the ladies."
"You don't want me as your enemy," said Bowie.
"That's true," said Alvin. "I want you as a complete stranger."
"Too late for that," said Bowie. "It's friend or foe."
Alvin walked away with his poke full of melons, but as he went, he hotted up the man's knife blade. Also the buttons on the front of his pants. In a few moments, the threads around