[INTRO — LATE-NIGHT WESTERN | slow 6/8 ~76 BPM | DREADNOUGHT | LOW PIANO | SOFT TELECASTER] [MALE BARITONE — third-person narrator throughout] [VERSE 1 — THE VANGUARD] They were saddled for the north When dust came rising from the east. Three hundred riders in the vanguard, Then another hundred at least. Della's banners crossed the valley. More were following behind. Ten thousand men don't make good guests Without some planning given time. So departure moved three mornings. Pastures opened. Tents went down. Winter Ranch became a city Where there'd barely been a town. [VERSE 2 — AFTER MIDNIGHT] That night Jack sat alone with maps, One lamp, One chair, One whiskey glass. He marked the northern passes, Counted days they didn't have. The door opened. Della entered. Jack looked up. “Can't sleep?” “Apparently neither can you.” She noticed his glass. “Is there another?” Jack found one. [POUR] Della sat across from him. Neither mentioned leaving. [VERSE 3 — THE MAP] [WARM DREADNOUGHT] Della studied Jack's red markings. “These are the dead?” “Where we've seen them.” “And these?” “Where I think they'll go.” “You think?” Jack shrugged. “Dead men don't send scouts.” Della smiled. “Neither did I— until yesterday.” Jack looked at her. “You call that scouting?” “I came back.” “Eventually.” “And you were worried.” Jack stopped. Della took a drink. “I heard you.” “I asked if you were hurt.” “You asked if I was all right.” “Same thing.” Della smiled. “Not quite.” [VERSE 4 — WHAT THEY CARRY] [LOW PIANO ENTERS] Jack changed the subject. “Ten thousand riders.” “Eventually.” “That's an army.” “That's the idea.” “And they follow you?” Della thought of Rook. “They come back to me.” Jack recognized the words. “Silas said that about your birds.” “He notices things.” “So does Brayden.” Della looked toward the door. “That boy frightens me.” Jack laughed. “Good. Thought it was just me.” For a moment they weren't commanders. No Chair. No dead. No war. Just two tired people drinking whiskey Later than they should. [VERSE 5 — JACK] Della traced the northern mountains. “Why did you take the black?” Jack stared into his glass. “Seemed simpler.” “Was it?” “No.” She laughed softly. “Good answer.” Jack looked at her. “And you? You really mean to sit the Iron Chair?” “If there's still an Iron Chair.” “You want it?” Della considered. “I want what it lets me fix.” Jack nodded. “That wasn't my question.” Della looked back at him. “No.” [PAUSE] “It wasn't.” [VERSE 6 — TOO CLOSE] [TELECASTER + NYLON GUITAR: 5→6] The bottle moved between them. Not enough for either to forget. Enough that silence grew comfortable. Enough they hadn't noticed yet That somewhere during maps and whiskey They'd stopped sitting quite so far apart. Della caught him looking. Jack looked down. Della didn't. [PAUSE] Then she said, “About yesterday—” “Oh, hell.” “When I landed.” “You survived.” “You looked concerned.” “I was responsible for the expedition.” Della leaned closer. “Of course.” Jack met her eyes. Neither one believed him. [VERSE 7 — THE WRONG THOUGHT] [STRIP TO GUITAR] Outside, something enormous Landed softly on the roof. Jack glanced upward. “Rook?” “Probably.” “Does he always follow you?” “Usually.” Jack smiled. “Good.” “Why?” Jack looked toward the ceiling. “Chaperone.” Della laughed— Then realized what he'd said. So did Jack. [LONG PAUSE] “Well,” she said. “I should sleep.” “Probably.” Neither moved. Then Della stood. “Goodnight, Commander Snow.” “Goodnight, Della.” She reached the doorway. “Jack?” “Yeah?” “You were worried.” The door closed behind her. Outro [SOFT TELECASTER + NYLON GUITAR] Jack stared down at his maps. Read the same line three times. Outside, Della crossed the yard And smiled for no good reason. Neither had said anything. Nothing happened. Nothing promised. Nothing started. [5→6] Which made it considerably harder To explain why Jack poured no more whiskey— Or why Della lay awake Thinking about the way he'd said her name. [PAUSE] On the roof, Rook clicked his beak. [CUT]
