Like Butcher Tom had told Ned that first night, the gang packed everything they owned into wagons and ventured southeast. They’d been on the move for over a week, and he watched the snow- capped peaks of his youth disappear from sight. They eventually set up camp in a secluded spot by a small lake and stayed there, waiting. Tension was ripe in the air whenever scouts returned, heading straight into Butcher Tom’s tent, but Ned wasn’t privy to the gang’s plans. And neither were the many members, who engaged in petty crime but were otherwise waiting for a call to action.
While the gang didn’t have much in terms of hierarchy, it was understood that the original members—Tom and Zeb—had the most say in terms of future plans. Scotch would have been in that group too if it wasn’t for his nasty habit of drinking whenever he was awake and only sobering while asleep.
Doc, while the calmest of the men, carried himself with an air of authority that commanded respect. The fact that he was good with tonics and mended flesh better than most physicians didn’t hurt either. And Saul? He was sufficiently old to call experience his advantage, yet sturdy and cunning enough to strike fear in those who needed scaring. Add to that an excellent knowledge of the land, and he made a formidable man whom everyone held in high esteem.
Members who bore the cleaver tattoos had more privileges and the right to more loot. Among the women, some thieved, others gathered information or played the roles of damsels when the success of a job lay in distraction, but the value of several, including Mary, lay in the generosity with which they shared their bodies.
Most of the young men who rode with them were in it for the money and seemed satisfied doing simple chores and hunting for food while Tom conceived his secretive plan. Cole was somewhere in the middle of the pecking order, valued for his skill and experience but not much interested in logistics. He never participated in talks with the senior members unless told to. When asked about it, he claimed he didn’t have the patience to plan anything beyond a home robbery, and although Ned wasn’t sure that was true, he didn’t pry and just enjoyed their time together.
Cole loved dancing and laughing with everyone else once the day’s work was done, but seemed to equally value time spent only in Ned’s company. In the two weeks since they’d met, Ned found out Cole was fond of watching the stars, and they often took their bedrolls to a nearby hilltop to watch the glinting dots in the sky. Cole knew so many stories about the skies, and Ned ended up telling some too. Like the legend of a ship sailing through the sky during the Tailteann games back in Ireland. He even came up with some of his own.
One Cole particularly appreciated and asked Ned to repeat twice already was about a man weaving a ladder of stars to reach the sky so he could once more see a friend who had died in a war. It was obvious to Ned that the ending of such a tale would have to be tragic, since mortals were not meant to break the boundaries of their reality, so the main character eventually fell straight into hell, forever separated from the one he so longed to see a final time.
It turned out Cole hadn’t lied about being good with a needle and thread, a skill he’d been taught by his mother so they could earn a few extra cents here and there. And since Cole had mended Ned’s union suit and later, reattached a button for him, Ned felt obliged to offer something in return, and took on grooming both their horses whenever Cole had to ride out for Tom.
Never in his life had he bonded with someone so fast, but it felt right. He didn’t know why Cole had taken such a liking to him, or why he loved being around the man so much, but it didn’t matter anymore. Despite Cole being so handsome, funny, so suave around the girls and well-liked, instead of being jealous, Ned only admired him more. It would have been pointless to try and emulate a person to whom being the brightest toad in the puddle came so effortlessly.
And yet Cole, who had the choice of anyone else's company, picked Ned and treated him as if they were brothers. One night, he’d gotten drunk and crawled into Ned’s tent, instead of his own, and rested against Ned’s back, as if seeking warmth. But the small bedroll didn’t offer the same comfort as the cot in Cole’s lodgings, so despite Cole’s significant weight and size, Ned had carried him where he belonged and even tucked him in. By that time Cole had drunkenly babbled something to Ned, but that just ended up with Ned pretending Cole was a baby. He even mockingly left a kiss on his forehead. It was fortunate Cole didn’t remember that bit.