Blood and Iron Ch. 09

This is a work of fiction any similarities between the characters, events, or locations in this story and actual locations, events, or people are purely coincidental.

*

I settled back, sipping my ale. They were looking at me expectantly, so I finally offered,

"When I'm hungry, taking what I need from some rich bastard who never earned it and has too much anyway, aint really stealing is it?"

Goddamn, where the fuck did that come from? But Alvis and Howard were wreathed in smiles. Howard nodded as Alvis said, "Just so. You gotta take care of yourself. Make your own way. Otherwise there's the debtor's collar…"

They both winced earnestly at the mention of that collar. Howard leaned forward conspiratorially. "This is all a secret, but we will take you to meet our chieftain…."

I put up my hand rather emphatically, and Howard mumbled to a halt. I looked around the room carefully, then back at the two of them. I took a deep breath, saying slowly and carefully, "It can't be too much of a secret, with you two drunk idiots talking about it in a tavern. I go nowhere after dark with anyone, certainly with neither of you. I meet your leader here tomorrow night. If I find something else for work, I won't be back. Don't follow me."

Alvis laughed, as Howard looked aggrieved. "No need to go on like that. We're not drunk and we aint idiots."

Alvis then asked with a snarky tone, "Where the fuck you gonna find work? Decided to take up hunting?"

They both laughed uproariously at the idea. Alvis grinned. "Tomorrow, then. If nothing else, we buy you a meal."

I nodded tightly. Standing up, I knocked out my pipe, emptying the bowl in Alvis's ale mug. I scooped up my crossbow and was out the door, into the night.

Moving swiftly away from the tavern, I jumped over a low stone wall on the edge of a field and stood in the weeds, observing the entrance. Alvis, the ferret, had a discreet wrist sheathe on his right arm. He might be a lefty, making him ambidextrous as a practical matter. Despite his tolerance of my antics, he might very well be competent and that plus ambidextrous and quick would be bad things, perhaps very bad things.

I eased away from the road about two hundred yards, and started back the way I'd come. My eyes were soon accustomed to the darkness, and I made very good time to the muddy lane. I was presently standing in the grove, across from the robber's nest. I dug out my telescope, and made a discovery. It was magicked to be a night glass. Through it, I could see the farmhouse clear as noon, despite the overcast and lack of moonlight.

I sat, well hidden, observing the house. There was little to pique my interest. About midnight, the sound of hooves at a gallop brought me out of my reverie.

A charger came dashing up the path, spraying mud in all directions. The horse had no sooner skidded to a stop, than the rider was out of the saddle, pounding on the farmstead door demanding admittance. I got an excellent look at his face as the open door illuminated him.

The ground tied horse was standing quietly, and I had just decided to take a closer look when the meeting broke up. The door was jerked open, and the horseman stomped out into the yard. Tor accompanied him out the door, and the horseman jerked the saddlebags off his mount and tossed them to him.

The horseman shook his finger in Tor's face and admonished him loudly, "Just get it done, and no fucking excuses. She dies or you're all forfeit."

After a hard eyed look he leapt up on the horse and without a backward glance cruelly spurred his mount. Two jumps; they were out of sight down the narrow road. Tor gazed down the empty lane for a long time then his shoulders slumped as he carried that bag into the house.

Okay, I definitely wanted that look-see now.

With my crossbow in hand and Katana loosened, I moved across the lane and close to the farmhouse. I was once again standing an arm's length back from the gaps in the kitchen shutters, listening to an altogether subdued group as Tor and Donna (his 'woman' turned out to be named Donna) stacked coins on the table, while Jeremy whined about the peremptory nature of their orders.

Tor couldn't get angry; he seemed resigned as he told Jeremy, "It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Not even how many guards and outriders. We must kill her when her coach rolls through the forest on the way to the Port City or we have to flee for our lives."

Jeremy droned on, "Couldn't have been a worse time to lose Giant and Henry."

Donna looked at him incredulously as she barked, "When's a good time to have your friends killed, you dumb fuck?"

Tor was shaking his head; he looked like he had quite a headache. Finally he looked over at Jeremy, asking, "Where the fuck are Harold, Howard and Harvey? And Alvis? Of all the nights for them to be off getting drunk and whoring."

Donna looked over, saying in exasperation, "You paid them, what do you expect when they got coppers rubbing together in their pockets?"

Tor finally roused himself. He looked over at Jeremy, and, in a tone that brooked no argument, he said, "Find them. Get out there right now and find them, sober them up and have them here. No fucking excuses. Not a word, Jeremy. All of them here at dusk for that meeting; then we go to the forest, set the ambush and kill her."

Tor stared malevolently at Jeremy, who slowly rose with great show of unconcern, donned his cloak, and walked out the door and down the muddy lane without a backward glance.

Jeremy was no sooner out of earshot, than Donna started her own entreaty, asking Tor to grab all the loose gold and silver coins, load them in the horse cart, and they'd run for it!

Tor ignored her as he went to a cabinet, brought out a gallon stoneware jug, and shambled dejectedly out of my sight. Donna sat silently at the table with her head in her hands.

I eased away from the farmstead moving back to my vantage in the grove thinking about what I'd seen and heard.

The robbers weren't just thieves, but also had a more nefarious purpose as assassins and likely spies. Their robberies a perfect cover for these tasks. Somebody big and important, with a long, deadly reach, pulled at least some of the highwaymen's strings. In exchange, of course, he fingered fat scores for them. It was a perfect partnership until now.

Today a female, somebody rich with a coach and outriders was their target. This somebody so important that the puppet master was pulling strings HARD prepared to wipe out his carefully constructed crew if necessary in order to execute her.

Was it Nadia? Somehow I did not think so. After all, she just left the bullseye. The puppet master had a chance and did not take it. No, this was clearly about somebody else.

Funny; I'd already come to my decision. Must have happened while I was outside the farmhouse. I counted up the people involved and discovered that it did not matter. I was committed.

I moved back in the grove until I found a deadfall. I rolled up in my cloak and rain cape, lying against the big fallen log, and went to sleep. My last thought as my eyes closed were of that buxom blonde in the farmhouse

*****

My eyes opened in this dark before the dawn. I lay unmoving listening questing with every sense and nerve. Slowly raising my head over the log I looked around carefully but there was no one.

I sat up stretching as the sky lightened. The farmstead was silent as I peered through my telescope. Moving back deeper into the grove, I decided that I'd risk lighting my Optimus stove in order to have some hot tea. While I waited for water to boil, I stood in a clear space and performed kata with my Sai daggers.

Sipping my tea and honey, I stood, with some of my weapons arrayed on the fallen log. I tried to focus and visualize my encounters. I set the tea aside as I stood, spinning and twirling the Sai, picturing the bad guys. Okay, it was not terribly useful, but it relaxed me nonetheless.

I surveyed my gear. My coil of mountaineering rope with a several carabineers went in an inside pouch of my cape, along with my last Darby cuffs and a ring gag. Yeah, maybe Robert was weirder than I thought.

I finished my morning 'necessary' ablutions then my tea and an energy bar before I reloaded the packsack, and then carefully moved it under a bush, next to the muddy lane, right across from the robber's farmhouse. It was a risk, but not much more than all the others I was running.

Now I looked carefully at my magical map, picking a route that kept me under cover until I was on the opposite side of the tavern. I followed this by sitting quietly until I saw Tor stumble out of the house to visit the outhouse. Donna trailed along shortly after. Tor went on to the barn to feed the stock before he returned to the house. Donna staggered back into the house. Clearly Tor shared his gallon of moonshine with Donna, but consumed plenty himself.

I sat watching the house, never quite sure whether Donna would finally prevail convincing Tor to run for it. All that transpired was two hangovers so big they seemed to make the very house itself hung over! The rather intense silence from the house seemed to indicate they likely knocked back a bit of the ol' hair of the woof woof!

Finally it was afternoon; time for me to put my plan in motion. Moving through the glade, I started a meandering route among the trees and groves, taking my time to avoid detection. Finally well past the tavern, finding a farmstead, I made a show of not terribly carefully sneaking out of the barn. Then walking up that farmer's lane to the main road and back toward the tavern.

With the open, cultivated fields, my progress toward the tavern on this main road was visible for a while. By now it was late afternoon as I walked up the steps and pushed open the door, greeting the fat man. The common room was still hot, and, with the low ceilings, smoky, just not as loud as before. I tossed my penny on the table, and he drew me a mug of ale.

I found my corner seat and settled with my back to the wall, nursing my drink. I rolled and lit a cigarette, more to pass the time than anything else. The fact that my hands were steady enough to get a 'tight roll' surprised me, actually.

The cigarette was barely half gone when Alvis and Howard made their appearance. Gone the relaxed approach of last night, they were all business and both of them tense as long tailed cats in a room full of rocking chairs. Howard stood looking out the door while Alvis came straight to me, saying brusquely, "You have to come with us."

Even knowing what was going on I was surprised by his manner it took no great stretch to say, "Fuck you, I changed my mind."

Alvis stepped around the table. Now that he was closer I could see him sweating. He leaned over and said quietly, "Honest to god. There isn't time to explain everything. Things have changed; we need you. We need you a whole hell of a lot. This could be a heap of money for you, for all of us. You gotta trust us, just shut up and come along."

I looked at his eager face and decided I'd pushed enough. Standing up I picked up my crossbow slung it over my shoulder and followed him out the door. As we started toward the farmstead I was careful to hang back and let them lead me along. Finally we were walking along with then flanking me Alvis on my left and Howard on my right. During this hike Alvis was talking steadily questioning my skill with the crossbow. With their bowman gone they had need of a long distance killer so I was a candidate, especially in this rather dire situation.

By now it was sunset as we entered the muddy track to the farmstead. They still flanked me as we walked through the mud. Our pace was slower in the twilight.

As we walked neither was paying much attention to anything save their footing in the muck. We were just at the glade when I reached under my cape with my left hand pulling my Tanto. Holding it in an ice pick grip, I slammed it into Alvis's chest. Releasing it I drew my Katana in one motion I wheeled taking Howard's head off his shoulders. Alvis took a couple rubber legged steps and collapsed without a sound. I drove the Katana into his eye but it wasn't necessary. I quickly dragged their bodies into the glade.

Watching the farmstead there was no alarm in the gathering dusk. I heard a faint noise; I decided to check the barn. Imagine my surprise when I found Donna carrying bags of coins up through the trap door. Her feverish pace left her vulnerable.

Grabbing Donna lifting her out of the hole. My one hand was over her mouth while the other held her waist she kicked and flailed until I flipped her on her back. Still holding her mouth, I showed her my Tanto. With me kneeling, on her she relaxed for just a second, allowing me to push the ring gag into her mouth and buckle it behind her head. As she reached for the gag, I twisted her around and secured her hands behind her back in the cuffs. I lifted Donna, moving her back against the wagon wheel, then re-cuffed her through the wheel.

Standing quietly, I breathed deeply from the exertion. I stood looking at Donna in the light from her candle. Her tits were heaving as she tried to yell, kick me, and get loose all at once. Taking my blade, I cut her dress from bodice to hem in one stroke. Donna froze as I flipped the fabric exposing her. I whispered:

"You sit quiet and don't make a sound. I'll be back with many questions. You better be ready to tell me the truth, Donna. Don't even think of lying."

I stared into her eyes until she looked down. I blew out the candle then sidled out into the yard. Staying low along the stonewall I was back to the track when I heard voices. Peering along the trail I saw Harold and Harvey tramping through the muck. I didn't hesitate I raised my crossbow and shot Harold who was slightly behind Harvey. It was so unexpected that Harvey was still turned around, looking down at his brother Harold flopping on the ground, when I made the killing stroke on Harvey then finished Harold.

Swiftly, I dragged them into the glade next to the other two. I moved into the lee of the farmstead listening, but all I heard was desultory conversation from Tor and Jeremy. Finally Jeremy told Tor that he'd keep watch for the others and asked where Donna was off to. Tor quickly answered 'outhouse' and they both laughed. Jeremy was standing in the front window directly behind a rotted shutter. Taking my Katana in both hands I punched it upward, through the shutter, penetrating his abdomen, solar plexus, and into his chest. He sagged forward in silence from the massive shock. I pushed Jeremy backward off his feet as I flipped the shutter wide open to see Tor reaching for his gallon jug. He looked over in surprise before he could react I raised the crossbow and fired, pinning him to his chair. I flowed through the window with my Tanto in hand; I cut Tor's throat an instant later. Without pausing, I drove the blade downward into Jeremy's eye.

Standing with my head down breathing deeply as I calmed and focused. I peered out the window, but there was no sound or movement, the highwaymen were dead.

How then to discover their target and the puppet master

To be continued.