Bounder lined the man up against the door and activated his weapon from a range of less than an arm’s length. The Sergeant-at-Arms’ body absorbed the full lightning blast, which blew his sparking and smoking corpse through the doors and onto the floor before a great chair where a man with a scowl was seated.
The Wolfoid leveled his spear at the man and waited.
Thunder struck the building, making it shake to its very foundation as the King of the Aurochs rammed the main door, ripping it from the frame. His great head looked into the room, seeing two wide-eyed Rabbits sheltering Nerise a hand-span from where the shattered door lay. Braden stood over Micah as she started to come to. Zeller positioned herself between them and the balcony, her sword at the ready as blood trickled from wounds all around her body.
Brandt bugled his displeasure at the harm that had befallen his friends, but he could come no closer. His body wouldn’t fit.
“Protect her,” Braden growled with a forced smile. He nodded to Zeller and the Rabbits.
Braden tightened his grip on his bow, nocked an arrow, and slowly walked up the steps.
Gray Strider and Bounder let him pass so Braden could enter the great room where Governor Anderle conducted the business of defiling the north.
The Governor sat on his chair as if it were a throne. Servants cowered along the walls. Two young men, the spitting image of their father, stood to either side of the chair. The youngest tucked his long black hair behind his ear and held his sword up as if begging Braden to fight him.
Braden slowly drew his bow back taking aim at the man in the chair, then changed aim and loosed the arrow at the boy, ripping the sword from his hand as fear flashed across his young face.
“That’s right, son,” Braden said. “That’s how quickly you can die.” The Wolfoids entered the room and took positions at Braden's side. The boys shuffled nervously. G-War strolled in and walked along the wall, past the frightened servants. He jumped onto a side table and sat, seemingly disinterested in the affairs of humans.
“The easy answer is kill you, but I think there’s been enough killing this day,” Braden said, trying to calm himself, but the thought of how this man stopped the trade infuriated him. The thought of Micah on the floor below made him want to end this and go to her.
‘Anything, G?’
‘Just wait, help is coming,’ the ‘cat said mysteriously.
Jocelyn
The Governor’s face worked as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t get the words out. The youngest boy left his sword on the floor while the other held his far to the side, expecting it to be shot from his hand at any moment. The Wolfoids had their spears leveled at the dark-haired man in the chair. Braden had one of his last arrows ready to draw and fire.
A side door opened and an elegant woman walked in. She wore only a bath robe, holding the hand of a little girl. They looked around the room. She nodded to Braden and the Wolfoids. The little girl struggled against her mother’s hand as she wanted to run to the creature holding the spear.
“My name is Jocelyn,” she said proudly.
“Get out!” the Governor yelled. Braden fired an arrow that skimmed the man’s neck and thudded deeply through the padding and into the chair behind him. He clamped his mouth shut as fire burned behind his eyes.
She gave up fighting with her daughter and let her go. The little girl ran past the spear and threw her arms around Gray Strider’s neck, hugging her fully as only a child could. Jocelyn smiled and strolled across the room. She scratched behind G-War’s ears. “You talked with me.”
‘Yes, my lady,’ G-War replied formally. Braden was surprised. G-War was usually such an ass. The ‘cat looked at him with disdain.
“And you’re here to bring back trade?” she asked, turning to face Braden. He saw sadness in her eyes, while her face held the potential for a quick laugh and a twinkling smile.
“I’m Free Trader Braden and yes, we are here to restore trade, give the people their lives back,” he said as he looked at the man on the throne.
“Boys, go to your room,” she said firmly. They protested and their father put a hand on each of them, refusing to let them go.
“If you don’t go, then you’ll get to see your father die and that will happen in three heartbeats if you don’t go now. I’ve let this go on long enough and can abide no more,” she said. She didn’t raise her voice, but it was loud and profound. The Governor released his sons. The older boy dropped his sword as both boys ran off.
Leah finally stopped hugging Gray Strider, nuzzling the Wolfoid’s muzzle as she stepped back and looked adoringly at her new friend. She skipped past Braden to give Bounder the same treatment. He wanted to maintain his vigil, but Gray Strider growled at him. He raised his spear while the little girl waited impatiently. He bent down and she launched herself at him, hanging on to his thick neck. She couldn’t quite get her arms all the way around, so he cradled her with his foreleg and stood up, holding her to him.
Jocelyn approached Bounder, tickling her daughter’s ear, while looking deep into Bounder’s eyes. He felt as if she looked into his soul, relieved when she smiled and gently scratched his neck.
Braden hazarded a look at the Governor. The man fingered his sword as if preparing to battle those in the room. Jocelyn turned to face her husband. She pointed her finger at him and glared until he stopped fidgeting.
“I apologize to you, Free Trader, for forcing you to come here to save us from ourselves. I saw what he was doing, but retreated into myself and ignored what he was doing. I don’t know the extent of the damage that he’s done, but the fact that you are here, fighting for the people who are not your own, tells me how serious it is.” She looked at the floor, kicking something with her toe. She glanced at the charred body of the Sergeant-at-Arms emotionlessly, before returning her gaze to Braden.
“I’m from here. My parents were members of the Caravan Guild. I was raised on the trade routes in the north. I live in the south now with my family, with my friends,” Braden said, looking at those in the room who’d made the long journey with him. On cue, Brandt bugled, happily this time. They turned to see Micah, one arm draped over Zeller’s shoulder as both women struggled onto the landing outside the door. Braden draped his bow over his shoulder, putting the arrow back in its quiver as he went to them.
He helped Micah into the room. She smiled weakly as he set her into a chair along the wall as the servants stood nearby, trying to look inconspicuous. Her eyes were still unfocused, but color had returned to her face. The wound on her chest had stopped bleeding, but it needed to be sewn shut.
Jocelyn watched Braden as he carefully and tenderly ministered to his partner.
“We used to be like that,” Jocelyn started. “I don’t know what happened, but it doesn’t matter. I think our relationship has come to an end.” She held her hand palm up, asking Braden for his blaster.
“It won’t work for you. It’s keyed only for Micah and me.”
“Shame.” She let her hand drop. She leaned around Braden to see the Rabbits enter, Nerise walking carefully between them and studiously avoiding looking at the corpse on the floor.
Leah wiggled until Bounder put her down, and she ran to the newcomers. Leah hugged each of the Rabbits, and then the children introduced themselves, holding hands as they talked. The Rabbits hopped in place, just enough to show their pleasure as they watched the children.
“I missed that too, the joy of being alive. Sometimes we don’t even realize what we’ve given up until we see it again.”
“So what do we do now?” Braden asked, believing that Jocelyn was the way ahead for Jefferson City, for the north.
They looked at each other as Governor Anderle found his voice. “All of you will go to jail for violating the law of carrying weapons in the city! You will be tried for your murder of the good people here and you will be executed!” he screamed, almost hysterically.
Micah pulled her blaster and dialed a narrow beam. Braden put his hand
on the weapon and shook his head.
The Governor stood and raised his sword as he moved to strike his wife. She dodged in fear as the Wolfoids thrust their spears into the man’s body. His sword arm froze over his head until the blade dropped from nerveless fingers, clattering as it hit the floor. Bounder and Gray Strider pulled back, ripping their spears from the man who stood there, perplexed by his imminent death. He fell to his knees, eyes pleading with the raven-haired beauty before him. She shook her head once, staring into his eyes as he toppled.
Braden pulled out his needle and thread and got to work on the vicious slash across Micah’s chest.
A New Governor
“I really don’t want to be the Governor,” Jocelyn pleaded with Braden and Micah.
It had been seven turns since Governor Anderle’s demise and the city was barely returning to normal. Anderle had ordered that most of the Caravan Guild be executed, but the remaining members committed to help Braden restore free trade. Jocelyn was surprised to find out that Micah was the President of Vii. She happily deferred, hoping the newcomers would stay, until she heard that Braden and Micah’s children were in the south.
“We need you to make sure that no one takes their freedoms away again. Government’s job is to create the conditions for people to succeed on their own. Let them work and serve each other and the people will find their own way back to a better place,” Micah counselled. “And the fact that you don’t want the job makes you perfect for it.”
Although Nerise was nearly twice Leah’s age, the two had become fast friends. Jocelyn insisted on raising the little girl. Nerise was torn. She wanted to stay with the Rabbits and Braden and Micah, but wasn’t sure about going to an entire new land. She was more comfortable in Jefferson City.
The companions recovered Pony and moved him closer to Nerise in the Governor’s Mansion, recently renamed as the People’s Hall.
To make the transition easiest, Patrice and Delavigne agreed to stay with Jocelyn and her family. Braden tried in vain to talk them out of it.
‘We’ve seen their fields. They need help, and Patrice is pregnant again. I think we shouldn’t travel.’ Braden smirked. A Rabbit was pregnant again. He shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was. They congratulated their friends on the great news. Jocelyn, Nerise, and Leah could all talk with the Rabbits, thanks to a little mental tweaking from G-War. Patrice and Delavigne wouldn’t be alone. Braden was sorry to see them stay behind, but it was their decision. All intelligent creatures had the right to determine their own destiny.
Jocelyn agreed and was pleased that the Rabbits decided to join her and her family. Patrice and Delavigne only asked one favor and that was for Braden and Micah to give their laser pistols to their eldest children. They didn’t want any Old Tech weapons remaining in the north. Too many of the Governor’s strongmen were still on the loose to risk such a weapon falling into their hands.
Braden agreed wholeheartedly. They shook and left Jefferson City in the more than capable hands of Jocelyn and her advisors from the new trading guild, called the Free Trader Guild in honor of Braden and all traders.
Micah’s wounds were healing. Her arm was still in a sling to keep her movement to a minimum. Zeller was also healing. After the fighting was over and they had time to check, Braden decided to sew up three of the cuts on Zeller’s shoulders and arm. She left the one on her face alone, a scar as her badge of honor, a warrior blooded in battle.
The women of Trent had acquitted themselves well and ensured that freedom returned to the north.
Micah scoffed at Braden’s thoughts regarding his partner’s contribution and her fellow from Trent.
“I’m still mad at you,” she said playfully.
“I know,” he replied with a chuckle. He helped her into the wagon that the rancher had taken good care of.
Even after Braden told the man that trade would return to normal and that the Provincial Government was no more, the rancher remained skeptical, shaking his head as he returned to his livestock. “When it rains, it rains too much. When it’s dry, he wants rain. I’m not sure that man will ever be happy,” Braden said, watching the man walk away.
“Maybe that’s what makes him happy?” Micah offered. Braden shrugged. The harness was tight on Arnie. The Wolfoids were in the wagon, empty except for the tent and their supplies. The weapons had been turned over to the new Governor for her to do with as she pleased.
Brandt walked alongside. He no longer wore the brace on his knee. The contraption was in the wagon, taking up space, but they kept it, just in case. G-War was perched in his usual place on top of Brandt’s head. After Braden mounted, Zeller asked Arnie to head out, south toward Cameron.
‘Who’s going with me?’ G-War asked out of the blue.
“Where?” Braden looked sideways at the ‘cat as he glared back.
‘Hillcats? Anyone remember the conversation where the Prince gets to go back to his people, recruit some lady Hillcats to come south? I simply cannot take the south over by myself, and those grisly urchins from that vicious creature in Cornwall simply won’t do to carry on my legacy,’ G-War told them.
Micah choked, trying not to laugh out loud. Her children were bonded with the so-called urchins, so she wanted to take offense, but couldn’t because of the Golden Warriors matter-of-fact tone and the images of the cat from Cornwall going after him on their last visit. “Isn’t that your mother, I asked Klytus and Shauna,” Micah said, remembering the throw-down they had the privilege to witness.
Braden laughed, and G-War continued to glare at the humans. ‘Yes. All of you poke fun at the poor ‘cat, just trying to make his humble way in a dangerous world.’
“Did he just say ‘humble’?” Braden said out loud, before doubling over with a full belly laugh.
“Okay, G, you got me. I’ll go with you. Out of Cameron, southwest past Binghamton, to the forested hills of Ankhmar.”
“We’ll have to wait for you in Cameron?” Zeller interjected. Micah nodded.
“Wait, what’s that look?” Micah asked suspiciously, noting her disappointment.
“He has a present for me,” she said in a low voice.
“The blacksmith in Whitehorse” Braden said when he figured it out, realizing that the present wasn’t for him. He was disappointed, but only for a heartbeat. He was happy for Zeller. “Hey, see if he wants to come with us. Old Tom is stretched pretty thin. He could make a difference in the south. We really could use someone like him.”
Zeller smiled, thinking about having him in the south with her, but she would continue to trade. The Old Tech wagon would make things easy for her and Arnie. But it would be nice to come home to someone. They could use a blacksmith in any town besides Dwyer. She’d have to think about it, not about convincing him to come south, but where he could set up a new smithy. Maybe River Crook, but she didn’t know what raw materials he’d need. That would make for good conversation as they traveled. She continued smiling to herself as her daydreams took her away.
Braden and Micah looked at each other, pleased with events and happy that none of the companions were killed. When they were attacked by the archers on the road, they’d realized how vulnerable they were. The feeling of invincibility evaporated with Arnie’s shriek of pain. Old Tech weapons were just tools, not an end-all. Those who held the tools were still only flesh and blood.
Skirill joined the companions in the wagon as Zyena flew ahead. She circled high above, looking for any sign of those who’d served Governor Anderle. Braden suspected that they’d blended back into the populace, returning to their lives as farmers, craftsmen, shop keepers, or any of a myriad of trades. Braden didn’t expect anything, but he sat with his blaster on his hip, fully charged and ready for use. G-War was attentive as well, although when asked why he hadn’t seen the previous ambush coming, G-War suggested that neither he, Braden, nor Micah had been at risk of injury within the timeframe of his visions.
“Let’s all pay more attention. I don’t want to go through t
hat again,” Braden said and Zeller agreed most of all. Arnie was her best friend. She still agonized over the pain that racked her body seeing the arrows embedded in the Aurochs.
After two turns of travel, their worries were unfounded as they moved unmolested along the road. Cameron was a beehive of activity as the people had taken to destroying everything from the Provincial Government and retaking ownership of the town. This included an extensive barricade across the road to Jefferson City. As Braden’s caravan rolled up, a man waved to them in welcome.
“What gives with the barricade?” Braden asked.
“In case the Governor sent his strongmen down this way. We aren’t going to hand our town over to him, not again. If he wants a fight, we’re ready!” the man said boldly, puffing out his chest, before looking at Micah’s arm in a sling and Zeller’s injuries.
“You can take the barricade down. There’s been a change in leadership and the Provincial Government is no more. The next time you see a wagon coming down this road, they’ll be coming to trade, bringing supplies, doing what we do!” Braden shouted back, pumping his fist in the air. The man cheered and ran off. The companions looked at each other and the barricade that the exuberant man left in place.
Brandt lowered his head and pushed the jumble of furniture and rough cut lumber out of the road. Arnie continued into town, heading for the Market Square.
The Power of Hope
Micah removed her sling so she could climb down, but Braden stopped her.
“We need to find our water buffalo rancher and start working the trade!” he said excitedly. She shook her head and climbed down. He pointed to her, then to the road leading east, then back to her, confused. There was a trade waiting for him. He was compelled, almost beyond his control. Micah waved him to her. Braden looked longingly at the road east. He hung his head in surrender and climbed down, unhooked Arnie so he and Brandt could find somewhere to graze, and took Micah’s hand to casually stroll through the market and see what people had to offer.
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