Bonds - Magnificent 7 [Gen Version]
Chapter 2 of Bonds is up! Still no Ezra.
Things you need to know: Magic. Bows and Swords. Blood. Violence. Some fairly mild cursing.
Rating: Maybe R, to be on the safe side? I'm kind of violent.
Oh! And before you point out that there's no 'e' in 'blond,' I'm from Britainland. Don't hold it against me.
Onward!
This is a fantasy AU set mostly in the country of Luka, one of the Allied Kingdoms. Luka, torn by a succession war between the two sons of a dying king, is becoming lawless as the brothers pour more and more resources into the destruction of the other.
Amid it all, a group of seven very special men find themselves on a reluctant quest, one that may very well have an astounding impact on the fate of not only Luka but the entire Alliance.
Chapter 2
The morning sun was bright and Chris tilted his hat lower to shade his eyes as he waited for his firepower to show up. He glanced up minutely as he heard a scuffle on the roof he was stood beneath, then a curse. He hid his smile. There was another scuffle, the sound of someone tripping over their own trousers and then an almighty crash as the someone lost their battle with gravity and landed in a heap on the ground before Chris.
Chris sucked at his cheroot.
“Mornin’, Buck,” he drawled, as the man before him started to uncurl.
“Still got that stupid axe.”
Buck looked up, a grin spreading across his face. “Chris! Hey, you old war dog! Good to see you, buddy.” He stood, pulling Chris into a hug, apparently unaware that his trousers were still round his ankles and his shirt strewn in the dirt.
“Easy, big fella. Folks’ll talk.” Chris couldn’t keep the smile from creeping across his face, especially when Buck’s laughter rumbled through his chest and the big man pulled him tighter for a moment.
He pushed Chris to arm’s length and regarded him with a grin, making sure he’d not lost any limbs in the time since they’d last seen each other.
Satisfied, Buck turned and gathered up his clothes, pulling his trousers up with one hand and struggling to get his other through a shirtsleeve. Chris watched him as he moved. Still the same old Buck, putting on his belt before fastening his trousers, then having to undo both to tuck in his shirt, a grin painting his face throughout it. Finally fully clothed, he bent to scoop up the battleaxe still sitting in the dirt. He slung in over his shoulder, looking ruefully upwards to the lady’s room where he’d apparently left his axe harness.
“Still carrying that stupid axe, Buck. Havin’… ah… ‘problems?’”
Buck mock-scowled at him. “I never have ‘problems,’ Chris! The ladies just like a man who can handle something big like this and protect ‘em.”
Chris just nodded, smirking. “Sure, Buck. Listen, I got a favour to ask ya.” Buck raised an eyebrow and Chris nodded his head in the direction of the livery. “I’ll tell ya on the walk.”
*******
Buck listened intently to Chris’ terse explanation of the incident with the curse and Nathan, not needing to question why Chris had made it his fight. Buck was Chris’ oldest friend, and it’d been him left to pick up the pieces after Chris’ family had died, him that comforted his shocked friend after a healer they’d been at the academy with had dropped dead in front of Chris’ eyes. They’d both worked for Prince Alexis, both left because of the prince’s actions. Buck didn’t need questions. He understood.
The stables were shady and it took a moment for Chris’ eyes to adjust after the brightness of the morning sun. “Took yer time, Chris,” came Vin’s amused drawl. Chris looked over, finding his scruffy acquaintance in his horse’s stable, stroking the stocky little black’s nose. Chris frowned. Pony was a grumpy, stubborn mule at the best of times and he usually only tolerated Chris to come near him in a stable, but there he was, leaned up against Vin with his eyes half-shut. If he could, Chris would’ve bet he’d be purring.
“Had to wait for him to get outta bed,” he replied, watching the two. Pony opened his eyes and fixed Chris with a look. Vin grinned.
“Very nice bed it was too,” added Buck, stood behind him. Chris could tell the sociable man was itching to start a conversation and decided to put him out of his misery.
“This is Buck Wilmington. He’s my firepower,” said Chris, indicating the moustachioed man. Both Vin and Buck grinned at the description. Vin hopped over the stable door and offered his hand to Buck, who shook it enthusiastically.
“Vin Tanner.”
“Where’s Nathan?” asked Chris, glancing around the stables in search of the Marin healer. Vin shrugged.
“Saw him on my way here, said he had someone to fix but ‘t wouldn’t take long.” Vin nodded his head towards a stall where a placid bay was stood, watching the proceedings interestedly. He was half saddled, a blanket slung over his back and a saddle over the door. He blinked at Chris and went back to chewing at the bit in his mouth. “Reckon we should finish up?” he asked, indicating the saddle the bay was currently nudging in search of treats.
“Reckon so. We’ve got a long ride out to them hills today.” Chris shot a pointed look at Buck, who just grinned and walked over to a pretty grey head that had just appeared over a door a few stalls down from Nathan’s bay. “New horse, Buck?” Chris stroked Pony’s nose, only to get a snap of teeth as the black laid his ears back against his head. Chris ignored it and leant against the door, knowing the horse wouldn’t really do any damage… or he hadn’t yet, at any rate.
“Yup,” replied Buck, nodding enthusiastically. “I call her Lady Napalm. Watch.” He stepped back from the stall and raised a hand, still momentarily as yellow light gathered around his fingers. There was a small bang and one side of the stable door burst into flame. The grey snorted at it and fixed Buck with an unamused look, but didn’t react the way any other horse would’ve - with complete panic. Buck grinned enormously and raised his hand again, this time extinguishing the small buttercup flame. Chris calmed Pony with a hand on his nose, noticing Vin doing the same with both Nathan’s horse and a rangy black Chris assumed was his own, while Buck stood by and looked smug.
“Well, she seems the horse for the job,” remarked Chris, as she snorted and nosed at Buck, who surreptitiously slipped her something. She stamped happily and Buck gave her an affectionate pat.
“Stupid thing,” he said fondly. She snorted at him. “Once I blew up an entire wall not a hundred meters from where we were, and she just stamped her feet. I reckon she don’t hear too good, hey girl?” Lady flicked her ears and glared.
“Reckon she hears just fine, Buck,” said Chris with a grin.
He saddled Pony quickly, hearing the soft sounds of Vin’s voice as he moved between the two horses he was sorting out, underlaid by Buck’s crooning insults to his Lady Napalm. Pony huffed and blew as he tightened the cinch strap, rolling his eyes when Chris kneed him in the belly and tightened the cinch another two holes. They lead the four horses out onto the street, Nathan’s easy-going bay ignoring Lady’s curious sniffing as the two horses drew level. Vin’s horse flattened his ears and flashed his teeth at the strong-looking horse, stopping only at a look from Vin. Vin’s expressions and the black’s flicking ears gave the impression the two were having a conversation. Chris grinned at the idea.
Pony seemed quite content stood by Vin, despite the nearness of the other black, so Chris let him be. Normally he’d be dragging the irritable stallion away by now, but he seemed taken with Vin. Maybe he’d ask the long-haired man what he bribed him with.
Nathan appeared, slightly out of breath and wearing a different shirt than he had been when Chris saw him earlier in the morning. “Sorry, someone got themselves shot. Figured I’d best see what I could do, ‘fore we left town.” Chris nodded, but there was a flare of anger in his eyes as he remembered how the townsfolk had treated Nathan the night before, letting him go off to hang for something he didn’t do, without even batting an eyelash. His anger must’ve shown on his face, because Vin laid a hand on his arm. He said nothing but met Chris’ eyes solidly, finally letting him go with a nod. Buck was watching curiously. Chris met his old friend’s eyes and shrugged at the raised eyebrow. He and Vin had already established a silent connection that he was at a loss to explain, but he knew it like it was a tangible thing.
“Dammit, Peso!” Vin’s yell attracted Chris’s attention and he turned to find Vin stood by Nathan, yelling at his rangy black who was on the other side of the road nibbling at someone’s window-box flowers. “You get your as- You get yourself back here right now!” Peso turned his head to look at Vin, who stabbed his finger at the ground. The women outside the hotel on the other side of the street tutted and walked on, sending reproachful glances at the four men. The black turned his head between the flowers and his owner once more, then gave a sigh visible even from Chris’ side of the street, and ambled back over. He stopped a foot away from Vin, leaned back warily, and Vin swatted him with his hat and grabbed the reins. His face was pure exasperation, and Chris hid his smile in his saddlebags.
*******
The ride out of Four Corners was uneventful. Mary Travis appeared as they headed out, with a notebook and pencil clutched in her hands, desperate for a story. Vin reined Peso around so he could watch Chris try and politely get rid of the tenacious newswoman, grinning at the glare he received when Chris finally gave up and spurred his horse past her. Vin tipped his hat and followed. The plains soon gave out to woods, sparse, stunted trees at first, but the nearer they got to the hills the thicker and greener the trees got.
Vin leaned back in his saddle and watched the trees go by, ears filled with the sounds of hooves on soil and the contented sighs of the horses as they moved, all underpinned by the jingling of the tack and the shifting of the leather saddlebags. The sun left soft dapple footprints across the trail they followed, leaving a soft golden glow that softened the outlines of the sharp dagger-shaped leaves of the Pelen trees. It was beautiful - and something wasn’t right.
Vin pulled Peso to a halt, turning one ear to the trees and the birds. He ignored the quizzical look Chris shot him and slid off Peso’s back, absentmindedly patting the black when he nosed his shoulder. Vin checked the ground for tracks other than their own, finding nothing but old scuffs ingrained deeply in the oft-used trail. He glanced back down the sun-glazed tree alley, blue eyes narrowing. Swinging back up onto Peso, he nodded to Chris and brought their horses side by side.
“Reckon someone’s following us,” he said, voice low. Chris frowned but nodded, taking his horse back to his place at the front, beside Nathan. Vin watched them for a moment, but Chris didn’t seem about to mention Vin’s suspicion to the Marin healer. Buck shot him a curious glance, but Vin followed Chris’ example and said nothing. They rode quietly throughout the morning, Chris lost in memories, the others lost in thought.
They stopped at a small outcropping of rock beside a small stream when the sun hit its zenith, pulling jerky and biscuits from their saddlebags and settling down to eat. “So, Nathan. How d’you know this guy we’re goin’ to see?” asked Buck, taking a mouthful of jerky.
“War. We both worked in the medic tents, givin’ what comfort we could. But Josiah’s brand of comfort was a little different than mine. He’s a sorcerer of sorts, a mystic. He’s a little… difficult to get used to.” Chris and Vin exchanged looks. Neither had had particularly good experiences with mystics.
Buck engaged Nathan in conversation and Vin turned his attention back to the tough meat he was chewing on, eyes automatically scanning the ground. His sharp eyes soon narrowed as he found a single set of tracks, older than theirs but clear to his trained eyes. He traced the footprints as they moved around the small dirt clearing, and his frown deepened as they led out of the sheltered area. A lone traveller shouldn’t be in these forests, especially not at night and without even a horse to run on. He stood, fingers brushing softly over the dirt, and followed the tracks as they moved away. He was aware of Chris’ eyes on him but the black-clad man said nothing, and Vin was concentrating too hard on the footprints to pay the other men any heed. He followed the prints right outside the rock-hugged area, into the soft loam of the wood. It was there he lost them.
Vin didn’t understand it; the prints just disappeared. If there were horse tracks he’d a assumed the owner of the prints’d simply mounted up, but there were none. The only prints he could see were small ones, from a fox or maybe a wolf cub. He scanned the area, finding other full-grown wolf tracks and a disturbed area where a horse’d been left, but no more footprints and the horse’d left as unburdened as he’d come.
Vin stilled. Something was wrong. He lifted his hand from the hoof print he’d been examining and straightened slowly, automatically freeing the bow stave from its leather across his back. The birds were restless, scared. They sensed menace on the wind, and Vin felt it too. Somewhere in the woods, a fox yipped. Vin strung the bow with quick, smooth movements, eyes and ears attuned to the feel of the forest. The animals were agitated, and Vin felt as taut as his bowstring as he melted stealthily back into the trees, soft feet flowing over the ground as he made his way back towards his companions.
Chris looked up with a start as Vin’s grumpy but usually well-behaved horse suddenly snorted loudly and threw his head about, backing up and straining the reins tying him to the tree branch. The animal was obviously distressed but the other three horses were spooking back only from Peso’s antics. He rose to his feet as the black half-reared, snapping the branch and barrelling into Nathan’s big bay, who spooked in turn. Peso tore himself free and backed away from the other horses, spinning wide-eyed and trailing half a branch as he turned towards Chris, who grabbed at the black’s reins, mindful of flying feet. Buck’s Lady was watching the action with flicking ears, eyes rimmed with edgy white but still anyway, and Buck himself had braved Pony’s wrath in an attempt to calm the little black. Nathan was stroking his wild-eyed bay’s nose, murmuring soothing nothings as the animal calmed under his touch. He too retained an edgy nervousness to him; as if the animals could see something their men could not.
Peso strained against him, sidestepping and rolling his eyes, but Chris was not an easy man to intimidate, after years of living with a Pony who thought he was a magnificent destrier twice as tall as he actually was. As Peso dug in and prepared to drag him along, Chris snarled. He let go of the reins with one hand and delivered a sharp smack to Peso’s nose, as he had seen Vin do earlier on the trail, when he’d dismounted to take a look at something and the horse had taken the opportunity to try and take a chunk out of Buck’s leg. It was an obvious ‘stop’ signal, and to Chris’ surprise it actually worked, snapping the gelding out of whatever frenzy had taken him.
Peso turned his head towards the entryway to their little clearing and whinnied, hanging his head after a moment when nothing appeared. Chris followed his gaze. “Vin?” he murmured, more to himself than anything, but Peso’s head shot back up and he let out another neigh. Chris glanced over at Buck and Nathan who had both seen the exchange. Chris nodded once, and they each readied their weapons; Buck freeing his axe and dropping Pony’s reins to give him a free hand for the pouches at his belt, should he need them, Nathan stringing the strange tri-coloured recurve bow he carried slung over the back of his saddle, and Chris stringing the twin crossbows hung at his waist. He let Peso go, trusting the animal to stay put now he’d ascertained the reason for his distress.
He moved so he had the rock at his back, the other two men doing the same. Buck managed the best cover, but then he always did. The man was a skirmish fighter first and foremost, and his distance attack required stillness and concentration. He was a vulnerable target, but he’d generally managed not to get shot too often during their long friendship. Nathan Chris didn’t know as well, but simply being Marin was a good indication of the healer’s fighting style. The Marin swampland bred hard, brave people, favouring stealthy, silent attacks, but when pressed a Marin army could fill the sky with death.
Chris brought his crossbow up and risked a glance around, his eyes travelling to the top if the rocky ridge. The soft whish of an arrow distracted him and he flung himself close to the rock as more shafts followed the first. His eyes met Nathan’s across the clearing, and the Marin nodded his head towards the rocky entrance. He nodded, turned and fired in a swift movement, noting Nathan doing the same as he slid another bolt in and fired again, taking down another of the attackers he was just able to make out. The sun was in his eyes and the men wearing clothing that blended easily with the rock and the forest, but he fired at anything that moved.
He froze as a loud twang sounded nearby, followed by the angry hum of a flying shaft. An attacker he hadn’t seen dropped from a ledge just a handful of yards away from him, and he took advantage of their attackers’ surprise to fire off more bolts and drop at least one more opponent. Vin, he thought, as the twang and hum came again. Nathan was whipping off his sturdy, thick arrows with such speed the men couldn’t advance easily, collecting in the bottleneck of the entrance and providing easy targets. Chris took out two more and slipped down the rock to slip more bolts into the clip, watching as a small explosion caused a rockslide on one side of the entrance, trapping two and burying at least that many more. The bandits’ numbers were much thinner now than they had been. And the remaining handful were doing their best to sidle back out into the safety of the forest, still firing angrily. Another twang felled the man right in the centre of the motley line, and a black-fletched shaft from Nathan found a new home in another’s neck. The ground exploded in front of a third, burying what was left, and Chris’ two crossbows made short work of the fourth one. The last, a filthy-looking man with a green bandanna and torn buckskin trousers, turned and ran.
“I got him! I got him!” Chris started at the sudden appearance of a young man at the entrance to the clearing, raising his bow to take aim at the fleeing bandit. Buck, newly unfurled from his hiding place, rolled his eyes. The kid pulled back the string… and lost the arrow in shock when two bolts dug into the dirt at his feet.
“You don’t shoot nobody in the back,” explained Chris, as he tucked his bows back into their leather holsters.
“Vin comin’ in,” came a call from somewhere above Chris’ head, soon followed by Vin himself as the tracker leapt down from the rock embankment to land gracefully on his feet. As he straightened from his crouch his eyes flicked between the kid and Chris, and the assumed leader knew he was asking what to do about the lone young man.
“What’re you doin’ here, kid?” asked Buck, and the kid grinned and made his way over to the group, bow still strung.
“My name is JD Dunne, and I can fight.” The newcomer had soft hazel eyes and a childish, upturned nose set in an eager face. Dark hair fell to his nape, the strands tucked haphazardly behind his ears and held in place by a brown bowler hat. He slung his bow over his shoulder and rested one hand on the sword that hung from his hip, the leather of the scabbard and grip worn enough to have seen a lot of action - but somehow Chris doubted much, if any, had been in the hands of this JD Dunne.
“That don’t answer the question, kid,” said Chris, moving to stand beside Buck. The two of them looked the kid over, Vin standing nearby and keeping his eyes open for any more trouble. Nathan, by the horses, raised his eyebrows and stayed out of it.
He looked at them like it was obvious. “I came to Luka for adventure. You’re going on a quest, aren’t you?” Vin, behind them, smiled slightly at the kid’s phrasing. Chris and Buck exchanged glances.
“We ain’t heroes, kid,” growled Chris. “Go home.” He turned sharply on his heel and stalked over to the horses, settling Pony with a hand on his neck and tightening the cinch of his saddle. Buck glanced back at the kid, who looked crestfallen.
“Go home, kid,” he said, words gruff but not unkind. “Ain’t nothin’ for you here.” He took Lady’s reins from Nathan and swung into the saddle, pointing the pretty mare after Nathan’s big bay. Chris rode past without a glance, and Vin tipped his hat as Peso brought up the rear.
They rode quickly through the wide-set trees, each glad to be away from the clearing for his own reasons. Chris because the wide-eyed young man so eager to throw himself into a conflict reminded him of all the friends he’d lost in the war, Buck and Nathan because neither liked to stay on the site of a conflict for too long, and Vin because the shadows were whispering, and their words spoke of nothing good he could discern.
Previous Next
Things you need to know: Magic. Bows and Swords. Blood. Violence. Some fairly mild cursing.
Rating: Maybe R, to be on the safe side? I'm kind of violent.
Oh! And before you point out that there's no 'e' in 'blond,' I'm from Britainland. Don't hold it against me.
Onward!
This is a fantasy AU set mostly in the country of Luka, one of the Allied Kingdoms. Luka, torn by a succession war between the two sons of a dying king, is becoming lawless as the brothers pour more and more resources into the destruction of the other.
Amid it all, a group of seven very special men find themselves on a reluctant quest, one that may very well have an astounding impact on the fate of not only Luka but the entire Alliance.
Chapter 2
The morning sun was bright and Chris tilted his hat lower to shade his eyes as he waited for his firepower to show up. He glanced up minutely as he heard a scuffle on the roof he was stood beneath, then a curse. He hid his smile. There was another scuffle, the sound of someone tripping over their own trousers and then an almighty crash as the someone lost their battle with gravity and landed in a heap on the ground before Chris.
Chris sucked at his cheroot.
“Mornin’, Buck,” he drawled, as the man before him started to uncurl.
“Still got that stupid axe.”
Buck looked up, a grin spreading across his face. “Chris! Hey, you old war dog! Good to see you, buddy.” He stood, pulling Chris into a hug, apparently unaware that his trousers were still round his ankles and his shirt strewn in the dirt.
“Easy, big fella. Folks’ll talk.” Chris couldn’t keep the smile from creeping across his face, especially when Buck’s laughter rumbled through his chest and the big man pulled him tighter for a moment.
He pushed Chris to arm’s length and regarded him with a grin, making sure he’d not lost any limbs in the time since they’d last seen each other.
Satisfied, Buck turned and gathered up his clothes, pulling his trousers up with one hand and struggling to get his other through a shirtsleeve. Chris watched him as he moved. Still the same old Buck, putting on his belt before fastening his trousers, then having to undo both to tuck in his shirt, a grin painting his face throughout it. Finally fully clothed, he bent to scoop up the battleaxe still sitting in the dirt. He slung in over his shoulder, looking ruefully upwards to the lady’s room where he’d apparently left his axe harness.
“Still carrying that stupid axe, Buck. Havin’… ah… ‘problems?’”
Buck mock-scowled at him. “I never have ‘problems,’ Chris! The ladies just like a man who can handle something big like this and protect ‘em.”
Chris just nodded, smirking. “Sure, Buck. Listen, I got a favour to ask ya.” Buck raised an eyebrow and Chris nodded his head in the direction of the livery. “I’ll tell ya on the walk.”
*******
Buck listened intently to Chris’ terse explanation of the incident with the curse and Nathan, not needing to question why Chris had made it his fight. Buck was Chris’ oldest friend, and it’d been him left to pick up the pieces after Chris’ family had died, him that comforted his shocked friend after a healer they’d been at the academy with had dropped dead in front of Chris’ eyes. They’d both worked for Prince Alexis, both left because of the prince’s actions. Buck didn’t need questions. He understood.
The stables were shady and it took a moment for Chris’ eyes to adjust after the brightness of the morning sun. “Took yer time, Chris,” came Vin’s amused drawl. Chris looked over, finding his scruffy acquaintance in his horse’s stable, stroking the stocky little black’s nose. Chris frowned. Pony was a grumpy, stubborn mule at the best of times and he usually only tolerated Chris to come near him in a stable, but there he was, leaned up against Vin with his eyes half-shut. If he could, Chris would’ve bet he’d be purring.
“Had to wait for him to get outta bed,” he replied, watching the two. Pony opened his eyes and fixed Chris with a look. Vin grinned.
“Very nice bed it was too,” added Buck, stood behind him. Chris could tell the sociable man was itching to start a conversation and decided to put him out of his misery.
“This is Buck Wilmington. He’s my firepower,” said Chris, indicating the moustachioed man. Both Vin and Buck grinned at the description. Vin hopped over the stable door and offered his hand to Buck, who shook it enthusiastically.
“Vin Tanner.”
“Where’s Nathan?” asked Chris, glancing around the stables in search of the Marin healer. Vin shrugged.
“Saw him on my way here, said he had someone to fix but ‘t wouldn’t take long.” Vin nodded his head towards a stall where a placid bay was stood, watching the proceedings interestedly. He was half saddled, a blanket slung over his back and a saddle over the door. He blinked at Chris and went back to chewing at the bit in his mouth. “Reckon we should finish up?” he asked, indicating the saddle the bay was currently nudging in search of treats.
“Reckon so. We’ve got a long ride out to them hills today.” Chris shot a pointed look at Buck, who just grinned and walked over to a pretty grey head that had just appeared over a door a few stalls down from Nathan’s bay. “New horse, Buck?” Chris stroked Pony’s nose, only to get a snap of teeth as the black laid his ears back against his head. Chris ignored it and leant against the door, knowing the horse wouldn’t really do any damage… or he hadn’t yet, at any rate.
“Yup,” replied Buck, nodding enthusiastically. “I call her Lady Napalm. Watch.” He stepped back from the stall and raised a hand, still momentarily as yellow light gathered around his fingers. There was a small bang and one side of the stable door burst into flame. The grey snorted at it and fixed Buck with an unamused look, but didn’t react the way any other horse would’ve - with complete panic. Buck grinned enormously and raised his hand again, this time extinguishing the small buttercup flame. Chris calmed Pony with a hand on his nose, noticing Vin doing the same with both Nathan’s horse and a rangy black Chris assumed was his own, while Buck stood by and looked smug.
“Well, she seems the horse for the job,” remarked Chris, as she snorted and nosed at Buck, who surreptitiously slipped her something. She stamped happily and Buck gave her an affectionate pat.
“Stupid thing,” he said fondly. She snorted at him. “Once I blew up an entire wall not a hundred meters from where we were, and she just stamped her feet. I reckon she don’t hear too good, hey girl?” Lady flicked her ears and glared.
“Reckon she hears just fine, Buck,” said Chris with a grin.
He saddled Pony quickly, hearing the soft sounds of Vin’s voice as he moved between the two horses he was sorting out, underlaid by Buck’s crooning insults to his Lady Napalm. Pony huffed and blew as he tightened the cinch strap, rolling his eyes when Chris kneed him in the belly and tightened the cinch another two holes. They lead the four horses out onto the street, Nathan’s easy-going bay ignoring Lady’s curious sniffing as the two horses drew level. Vin’s horse flattened his ears and flashed his teeth at the strong-looking horse, stopping only at a look from Vin. Vin’s expressions and the black’s flicking ears gave the impression the two were having a conversation. Chris grinned at the idea.
Pony seemed quite content stood by Vin, despite the nearness of the other black, so Chris let him be. Normally he’d be dragging the irritable stallion away by now, but he seemed taken with Vin. Maybe he’d ask the long-haired man what he bribed him with.
Nathan appeared, slightly out of breath and wearing a different shirt than he had been when Chris saw him earlier in the morning. “Sorry, someone got themselves shot. Figured I’d best see what I could do, ‘fore we left town.” Chris nodded, but there was a flare of anger in his eyes as he remembered how the townsfolk had treated Nathan the night before, letting him go off to hang for something he didn’t do, without even batting an eyelash. His anger must’ve shown on his face, because Vin laid a hand on his arm. He said nothing but met Chris’ eyes solidly, finally letting him go with a nod. Buck was watching curiously. Chris met his old friend’s eyes and shrugged at the raised eyebrow. He and Vin had already established a silent connection that he was at a loss to explain, but he knew it like it was a tangible thing.
“Dammit, Peso!” Vin’s yell attracted Chris’s attention and he turned to find Vin stood by Nathan, yelling at his rangy black who was on the other side of the road nibbling at someone’s window-box flowers. “You get your as- You get yourself back here right now!” Peso turned his head to look at Vin, who stabbed his finger at the ground. The women outside the hotel on the other side of the street tutted and walked on, sending reproachful glances at the four men. The black turned his head between the flowers and his owner once more, then gave a sigh visible even from Chris’ side of the street, and ambled back over. He stopped a foot away from Vin, leaned back warily, and Vin swatted him with his hat and grabbed the reins. His face was pure exasperation, and Chris hid his smile in his saddlebags.
*******
The ride out of Four Corners was uneventful. Mary Travis appeared as they headed out, with a notebook and pencil clutched in her hands, desperate for a story. Vin reined Peso around so he could watch Chris try and politely get rid of the tenacious newswoman, grinning at the glare he received when Chris finally gave up and spurred his horse past her. Vin tipped his hat and followed. The plains soon gave out to woods, sparse, stunted trees at first, but the nearer they got to the hills the thicker and greener the trees got.
Vin leaned back in his saddle and watched the trees go by, ears filled with the sounds of hooves on soil and the contented sighs of the horses as they moved, all underpinned by the jingling of the tack and the shifting of the leather saddlebags. The sun left soft dapple footprints across the trail they followed, leaving a soft golden glow that softened the outlines of the sharp dagger-shaped leaves of the Pelen trees. It was beautiful - and something wasn’t right.
Vin pulled Peso to a halt, turning one ear to the trees and the birds. He ignored the quizzical look Chris shot him and slid off Peso’s back, absentmindedly patting the black when he nosed his shoulder. Vin checked the ground for tracks other than their own, finding nothing but old scuffs ingrained deeply in the oft-used trail. He glanced back down the sun-glazed tree alley, blue eyes narrowing. Swinging back up onto Peso, he nodded to Chris and brought their horses side by side.
“Reckon someone’s following us,” he said, voice low. Chris frowned but nodded, taking his horse back to his place at the front, beside Nathan. Vin watched them for a moment, but Chris didn’t seem about to mention Vin’s suspicion to the Marin healer. Buck shot him a curious glance, but Vin followed Chris’ example and said nothing. They rode quietly throughout the morning, Chris lost in memories, the others lost in thought.
They stopped at a small outcropping of rock beside a small stream when the sun hit its zenith, pulling jerky and biscuits from their saddlebags and settling down to eat. “So, Nathan. How d’you know this guy we’re goin’ to see?” asked Buck, taking a mouthful of jerky.
“War. We both worked in the medic tents, givin’ what comfort we could. But Josiah’s brand of comfort was a little different than mine. He’s a sorcerer of sorts, a mystic. He’s a little… difficult to get used to.” Chris and Vin exchanged looks. Neither had had particularly good experiences with mystics.
Buck engaged Nathan in conversation and Vin turned his attention back to the tough meat he was chewing on, eyes automatically scanning the ground. His sharp eyes soon narrowed as he found a single set of tracks, older than theirs but clear to his trained eyes. He traced the footprints as they moved around the small dirt clearing, and his frown deepened as they led out of the sheltered area. A lone traveller shouldn’t be in these forests, especially not at night and without even a horse to run on. He stood, fingers brushing softly over the dirt, and followed the tracks as they moved away. He was aware of Chris’ eyes on him but the black-clad man said nothing, and Vin was concentrating too hard on the footprints to pay the other men any heed. He followed the prints right outside the rock-hugged area, into the soft loam of the wood. It was there he lost them.
Vin didn’t understand it; the prints just disappeared. If there were horse tracks he’d a assumed the owner of the prints’d simply mounted up, but there were none. The only prints he could see were small ones, from a fox or maybe a wolf cub. He scanned the area, finding other full-grown wolf tracks and a disturbed area where a horse’d been left, but no more footprints and the horse’d left as unburdened as he’d come.
Vin stilled. Something was wrong. He lifted his hand from the hoof print he’d been examining and straightened slowly, automatically freeing the bow stave from its leather across his back. The birds were restless, scared. They sensed menace on the wind, and Vin felt it too. Somewhere in the woods, a fox yipped. Vin strung the bow with quick, smooth movements, eyes and ears attuned to the feel of the forest. The animals were agitated, and Vin felt as taut as his bowstring as he melted stealthily back into the trees, soft feet flowing over the ground as he made his way back towards his companions.
Chris looked up with a start as Vin’s grumpy but usually well-behaved horse suddenly snorted loudly and threw his head about, backing up and straining the reins tying him to the tree branch. The animal was obviously distressed but the other three horses were spooking back only from Peso’s antics. He rose to his feet as the black half-reared, snapping the branch and barrelling into Nathan’s big bay, who spooked in turn. Peso tore himself free and backed away from the other horses, spinning wide-eyed and trailing half a branch as he turned towards Chris, who grabbed at the black’s reins, mindful of flying feet. Buck’s Lady was watching the action with flicking ears, eyes rimmed with edgy white but still anyway, and Buck himself had braved Pony’s wrath in an attempt to calm the little black. Nathan was stroking his wild-eyed bay’s nose, murmuring soothing nothings as the animal calmed under his touch. He too retained an edgy nervousness to him; as if the animals could see something their men could not.
Peso strained against him, sidestepping and rolling his eyes, but Chris was not an easy man to intimidate, after years of living with a Pony who thought he was a magnificent destrier twice as tall as he actually was. As Peso dug in and prepared to drag him along, Chris snarled. He let go of the reins with one hand and delivered a sharp smack to Peso’s nose, as he had seen Vin do earlier on the trail, when he’d dismounted to take a look at something and the horse had taken the opportunity to try and take a chunk out of Buck’s leg. It was an obvious ‘stop’ signal, and to Chris’ surprise it actually worked, snapping the gelding out of whatever frenzy had taken him.
Peso turned his head towards the entryway to their little clearing and whinnied, hanging his head after a moment when nothing appeared. Chris followed his gaze. “Vin?” he murmured, more to himself than anything, but Peso’s head shot back up and he let out another neigh. Chris glanced over at Buck and Nathan who had both seen the exchange. Chris nodded once, and they each readied their weapons; Buck freeing his axe and dropping Pony’s reins to give him a free hand for the pouches at his belt, should he need them, Nathan stringing the strange tri-coloured recurve bow he carried slung over the back of his saddle, and Chris stringing the twin crossbows hung at his waist. He let Peso go, trusting the animal to stay put now he’d ascertained the reason for his distress.
He moved so he had the rock at his back, the other two men doing the same. Buck managed the best cover, but then he always did. The man was a skirmish fighter first and foremost, and his distance attack required stillness and concentration. He was a vulnerable target, but he’d generally managed not to get shot too often during their long friendship. Nathan Chris didn’t know as well, but simply being Marin was a good indication of the healer’s fighting style. The Marin swampland bred hard, brave people, favouring stealthy, silent attacks, but when pressed a Marin army could fill the sky with death.
Chris brought his crossbow up and risked a glance around, his eyes travelling to the top if the rocky ridge. The soft whish of an arrow distracted him and he flung himself close to the rock as more shafts followed the first. His eyes met Nathan’s across the clearing, and the Marin nodded his head towards the rocky entrance. He nodded, turned and fired in a swift movement, noting Nathan doing the same as he slid another bolt in and fired again, taking down another of the attackers he was just able to make out. The sun was in his eyes and the men wearing clothing that blended easily with the rock and the forest, but he fired at anything that moved.
He froze as a loud twang sounded nearby, followed by the angry hum of a flying shaft. An attacker he hadn’t seen dropped from a ledge just a handful of yards away from him, and he took advantage of their attackers’ surprise to fire off more bolts and drop at least one more opponent. Vin, he thought, as the twang and hum came again. Nathan was whipping off his sturdy, thick arrows with such speed the men couldn’t advance easily, collecting in the bottleneck of the entrance and providing easy targets. Chris took out two more and slipped down the rock to slip more bolts into the clip, watching as a small explosion caused a rockslide on one side of the entrance, trapping two and burying at least that many more. The bandits’ numbers were much thinner now than they had been. And the remaining handful were doing their best to sidle back out into the safety of the forest, still firing angrily. Another twang felled the man right in the centre of the motley line, and a black-fletched shaft from Nathan found a new home in another’s neck. The ground exploded in front of a third, burying what was left, and Chris’ two crossbows made short work of the fourth one. The last, a filthy-looking man with a green bandanna and torn buckskin trousers, turned and ran.
“I got him! I got him!” Chris started at the sudden appearance of a young man at the entrance to the clearing, raising his bow to take aim at the fleeing bandit. Buck, newly unfurled from his hiding place, rolled his eyes. The kid pulled back the string… and lost the arrow in shock when two bolts dug into the dirt at his feet.
“You don’t shoot nobody in the back,” explained Chris, as he tucked his bows back into their leather holsters.
“Vin comin’ in,” came a call from somewhere above Chris’ head, soon followed by Vin himself as the tracker leapt down from the rock embankment to land gracefully on his feet. As he straightened from his crouch his eyes flicked between the kid and Chris, and the assumed leader knew he was asking what to do about the lone young man.
“What’re you doin’ here, kid?” asked Buck, and the kid grinned and made his way over to the group, bow still strung.
“My name is JD Dunne, and I can fight.” The newcomer had soft hazel eyes and a childish, upturned nose set in an eager face. Dark hair fell to his nape, the strands tucked haphazardly behind his ears and held in place by a brown bowler hat. He slung his bow over his shoulder and rested one hand on the sword that hung from his hip, the leather of the scabbard and grip worn enough to have seen a lot of action - but somehow Chris doubted much, if any, had been in the hands of this JD Dunne.
“That don’t answer the question, kid,” said Chris, moving to stand beside Buck. The two of them looked the kid over, Vin standing nearby and keeping his eyes open for any more trouble. Nathan, by the horses, raised his eyebrows and stayed out of it.
He looked at them like it was obvious. “I came to Luka for adventure. You’re going on a quest, aren’t you?” Vin, behind them, smiled slightly at the kid’s phrasing. Chris and Buck exchanged glances.
“We ain’t heroes, kid,” growled Chris. “Go home.” He turned sharply on his heel and stalked over to the horses, settling Pony with a hand on his neck and tightening the cinch of his saddle. Buck glanced back at the kid, who looked crestfallen.
“Go home, kid,” he said, words gruff but not unkind. “Ain’t nothin’ for you here.” He took Lady’s reins from Nathan and swung into the saddle, pointing the pretty mare after Nathan’s big bay. Chris rode past without a glance, and Vin tipped his hat as Peso brought up the rear.
They rode quickly through the wide-set trees, each glad to be away from the clearing for his own reasons. Chris because the wide-eyed young man so eager to throw himself into a conflict reminded him of all the friends he’d lost in the war, Buck and Nathan because neither liked to stay on the site of a conflict for too long, and Vin because the shadows were whispering, and their words spoke of nothing good he could discern.
Previous Next