Book 2 Dead Man's Hand: The Knights of the Golden Dragon

by Troy Reaves

  Everything went wrong the moment that Twitcher put out the signal fire. Harse made the planned motion, then proceeded to have what looked to Spike and Frost like some kind of fit. He started shaking his head violently side to side and moving his hand up and down like he was trying to push something at the stars. Frost understood immediately. Harse saw how high the horse’s neck was and did not want the horse hurt. Spike reacted like he always did with Harse, yelling at him. “Pull you damn fool! Pull now!” The rider dipped low along the horse’s side opposite where Spike’s voice had rung out, appearing to trust the horse to dip its head as it would if it encountered a tree limb and continue on full pace. Then something completely unexpected happened. The horse slowed and turned off the main road and the rider was nowhere to be seen. Harse, so intent on his prize, moved out from the tree the rope had been in and bolted for the horse. Spike came from his position further down the road at a full run with his wooden club over his head, looking for all intents like he was going to knock the stupid out of Harse. Neither man saw the shadow that rose up mere steps behind them. The rider moved close enough to strike Harse, then crouched, not knowing that Frost was watching his every move and almost reading his mind. The shadow was waiting for Harse and Spike to be close enough to be within easy reach. Two quick strikes and the men Frost had called friends for so long would be gutted in the blink of an eye. Frost knew there was no way he could reach them in time to save them. All he could do was hope some sense kicked in and one would turn in time. He did not hold out much hope for that. Old habits die hard and Harse and Spike were about to die from theirs.

  Three things seemed to happen at once in the next moment. There was a slight metallic pop followed by a distinct yelp from the shadowed figure which caused Spike to turn and swing reflexively. Spike’s luck, which was usually notably bad, took a remarkable turn for the good as he connected soundly with his would be killer’s head even as the figure dropped to one knee. The Gang’s target toppled to one side, lying motionless in the road even as Twitcher and Frost both met at the spot where Spike and Harse had nearly been killed. Twitcher danced around like a man trying to put out a fire with his feet. “I saved ya both! I saw him and I saved ya both!” Frost had to agree and did so with a nod. “What... how did you manage it? I could see him coming in from my position but you were too far off to have been able,” he continued while kneeling over the wounded target to remove the arrow from his calf. Spike took a moment to position himself to crown the victim once more if needed while Frost went about the operation. Harse busied himself with calming the horse and securing it. “This one be a fine one! Be worth more than a few coins for sure!”

  While the others went about their tasks Twitcher paused in his victory dance to explain. “I came down the tree as quick as I could shimmy down the rope with my bow across my back. Thought I might be a good distraction if nothing else. I wore my hunting boots so I would not be noisy on the board in the tree where I had set the dab of tar and kindling for the signal fire. When I heard Spike I figured it best to pick up my pace because I was thinking if the man we after was half as good as Dead Man was saying Spike and Harse were deep in the stink. Ended up just kneeling to steady myself once I saw he was behind Harse and Spike both and about to make them dead. Figured if I aimed at the middle of his back I should at least draw his attention enough that they could take him. My twitching be damned, I hit the bastard! Clipped it right off of something like it was made to hit that way and looks like it jumped clean through the soft part of his calf.”

  Frost agreed as he snapped off the tip poking out of the man’s leg and pulled the shaft out the other side. Twitcher frowned down at the ruined arrow but when Frost handed the shaft to him he lightened a bit. “A trophy for the hero of the day, Twitcher. Good shot, or lucky shot, does not really matter. You did manage to save these two clods.” Frost wrapped the wound and slid the note Dead Man had given them into the man’s clutching hand. The pain of having the arrow removed seemed to have roused him somewhat, as he groaned slightly as Frost tightened the makeshift wraps. “Time we go. Do not think he will be moving for a bit but best we be well gone when he does. The Gang nodded in agreement and moved into the wilds they knew so well. Their work here was done.

  32

  Drunken Monkies

  Rinoba was furious. His luck had betrayed him and, in his own arrogance, he had not paid enough attention. He could not believe he had been taken by a bunch of amateur highwaymen who only still breathed because of an impossibly lucky shot. Boremac had obviously set him up, once more showing that Rinoba was much too predictable. Boremac had known Rinoba’s eagerness and arrogance would assure he took the most direct route to Verson. Now he had no choice but to follow the directions in the note Boremac’s hired hands had left with him. Reading it had only increased Rinoba’s fury.

  “Rinoba,

  If you are reading this, and I do hope that you are, then my friends have introduced themselves. I hope they were not overly enthusiastic in the performance of the duty I set them and you are still able to get around. If any of my friends have been bled out, it will come to my attention before you reach me and you will be buried somewhere in the woods between where you now are and Verson.

  There is a ranger that guards these woods. I made him aware that you would be left with no horse and possibly wounded. He should be along shortly to aid you. He has been entrusted to take you to his humble home and care for any wounds needing attention. You will be fed, and probably be offered more drink than you can handle, before you rest, as the gentle ranger is a bit of a sot. Take advantage of his kindness and rest well. He will take you to the road nearest Verson in the morning.

  Congratulations on surviving. If this is not Rinoba, then I congratulate you on your ability to read. There is a reward for bringing this note to me in Verson. You need only ask around the taverns after Boremac and I will find you. Do not worry yourself over burying the body of this thief unless you are so inclined. Alchendia has certainly made a special place for him in the Abyss despite any grave you might prepare.

  Luck,

  Boremac”

  Shortly after Rinoba had had time to check his leg wound and tighten the haphazard bandaging work there, the ranger spoken of in Boremac’s note appeared as if he had been there all along. The drunken woodsman looked pretty much the way Rinoba had expected he would, ambling out of the tree line opposite him and dodging branches, as well as whole trees, seemingly at the last possible moment. Any doubt that the ranger was already well into his cups was swept away by the nearly intoxicating cloud that preceded his approach as he crossed the road. “Rinooda! Someone out here named Rinooda! Boremac sent me! Do not fear! I mean you no harm! Give a shout! Damn dark out here!”

  Rinoba made no attempt to hide his displeasure at the ranger’s brutalization of his given name. “The name is RinoBa!! Rinoba, damn you! What new form of demon has Boremac sent to torture me this dark night! Open your eyes a bit and you might even find your way to me! I don’t expect that you will be much use to me, so if it pleases you, turn back into the wood and I will be right behind you!”

  “Yep, you are definitely him that Boremac sent me to tend. Rude as a... as a... well, just plain rude. My word is my bond but by my grace, there will be the Nameless One itself to pay for the lack of respect you show. Fine then, I will lead you to my home and treat you well as I promised, but you can find your own footing in these woods. A few good thumpings stumbling about might serve to knock some sense into your skull, thick though it appears to be.” The ranger turned with a sloppy twist of his feet and preceded at a slow pace to meander into the wood back the way he came. He remained on his feet by what was surely the luck of the Goddess’ chosen, and Rinoba was amazed that he did not careen off a tree as he staggered about once more.

  Rinoba discovered two things very soon in his attempt to track closely behind the ranger. Rabbit warrens were everywhere in the chosen path of the drunk, and if he did not request aid in finding a prop
er path, he was going to bash his head in while twisting an ankle. He came to marvel at the ranger’s ability to stay on course and grudgingly called out for help. “Sir, I have no real desire to be brained against a tree in your wood. Forgive my impertinence when I first encountered you. It has been a trying night to say the least.”

  The ranger looked over his shoulder as if seeing Rinoba for the first time and taking his measure. “A simple excuse full of fancy words meant as an apology. Ah, well, I accept the attempt as the best you can do. Follow close and you will make it home with me without much damage. If you do get a good shot to the head from a misstep, rest assured I can drag you there well enough. Dead deer could attest to the fact if they weren’t dead, and could talk, of course. Come on then as the wolves will be out soon, and though they shy away from my scent, I doubt they would have trouble finding you quite enticing, as slim as the hunting has been of late.” They made it to the ranger’s home, a small but comfortable cottage neatly framed by the growth around it as if it had been there all along. Rinoba, in spite of himself, found the ranger’s company quite pleasing. The food was excellent and the drink was strong. More importantly, the ranger’s natural good spirit was infectious, and Rinoba felt better than he had in some time.

  The ranger roused Rinoba early the next morning, screaming something about a light meal and a heavy nip would be all the young man needed to get up and going in time to make Verson before dark. “Would you please quiet your tone? I feel like I rammed my head into every tree in your woods. Please stop shouting. I am not nearly deaf, though your carrying on makes me wish I were.” Rinoba’s own bare whisper gave his head a fresh pounding, and he felt sure his ears were bleeding when the ranger replied.

  “You drink as though you had never tasted strong spirits, and to prove it, awaken more sensitive than a newborn.” Though the ranger was now whispering as well, his hearty chuckle as he paused made Rinoba feel like the old drunk was driving a dull iron spike into his skull. “If you are going to be sick, let us get you outside.” There was a quiet pause that Rinoba hoped would go on forever just before he felt an unkind shudder start in his belly and cascade in waves through his body. “Damn it all. Yes, it is going to be a rough one for you. Come on then.” The ranger just managed to half drag and half carry Rinoba’s dead weight out the door. No more than a few steps away from the ranger’s cottage, Rinoba let out a gurgling roar as his guts loosened and he lost everything he had taken in for what felt like days. Once Rinoba finished his internal cleansing, the ranger gently propped him against a near tree, thankfully downwind from his purge. “Got just the thing for that. My own father gave it to me to wash away my first bad bout. Be right back. You will live, you just will wish you were dead for a bit longer.” Once more the ranger’s chuckle drove a spike into Rinoba’s skull but at least now it was not as dull.

  When the ranger returned, he made Rinoba sip at something that tasted strongly of deer musk and a blend of sweet and bitter herbs with just a hint of water to make it drinkable. Rinoba was equally amazed that his head stopped hurting so quickly and that his tongue was trying to force its way down his throat to escape every draught of the liquid. Despite his inability to talk due to his tongue’s lack of cooperation, more like an outright revolt Rinoba thought, the ranger handed him a mug of water with a smile. “Yes, it is terrible stuff but it does the trick. Rinse your palate a bit and you will be... well you will feel better than when you woke, anyway. Had just about the same reaction as you when my father shared that cure with me. Wonderful and terrible thing, that mix is, and all at once. One more example of nature’s bounty, much like the drink you had with me last night. It is bitter going in and it pays you back twice for thinking you are going to keep it. Rest a minute and try to drink some of that water. Sunrise will be soon. Probably want to close your eyes. I will fetch you for breakfast shortly.” The thought of eating brought a burp to Rinoba’s lips that tasted like impending doom.

  Breakfast had gone down surprisingly well for Rinoba. The ranger had prepared hard tack with a smidgen of seasoned fat from some animal, eggs, and a tough but flavorful salted meat all cooked on a simple iron stove. The best part was a juice made of various wild berries. Rinoba’s tongue tentatively tasted the drink, still full of doubt after the tortures it had endured over the past night and morning, and all but slurped at the cup of its own volition once the pure sweet taste was experienced. The ranger laughed heartily as Rinoba dove with both hands into the repast, and the Rinoba could not help but smile. This man was a kind soul with a simple spirit, unlike anyone Rinoba had ever met. It saddened Rinoba to think he would probably never meet another like the ranger. Time was his enemy however, and the prince of thieves knew that he would have to be moving soon. He had more than a few debts to settle with Boremac, and he regained his usual demeanor while thinking of how to pay the bastard back.

  The ranger recognized the change in his guest and thought it was just as well. They needed to get moving, and Boremac had warned him not to let Rinoba get too comfortable in his home. Boremac had been very specific on this point. The longer the prince was in the woods, the more likely he was to go after The Gang. The ranger could already see revenge being plotted behind his guest’s eyes, and there would be the Abyss to face for anyone who was in this one’s way. “We best be moving toward Verson if you are to make it out of the wood before dark, Rinoba. The road that runs along the far side of my woods will take you there without much chance of trouble. Verson is a waypoint between several much larger cities, and many merchants travel the roads extending from the town. These merchants often travel with large mercenary bands and may even take you the rest of your way.”

  The two men parted ways at the road, each turning with intent toward their own destinies. Rinoba’s mind was already thinking of a hundred different ways to even the score with Boremac for making him look the fool once again. The ranger was thinking of the short time he had been distracted from his duties and, more importantly, his drink.

  33

  Lady’s Choice

  Boremac had come to bathe shortly after receiving word from Jun that Rinoba had survived his encounter with The Gang and would arrive soon, possibly even tonight. Drinking, gambling and the ladies of Verson had all treated him well, but he still felt if he were going to greet the Prince of thieves, Boremac wanted to make at least a cursory effort to impress him. Jun had informed Boremac of another arrival he dearly wished to sway, Jasmine. He had remarked that the lass was perhaps to be found in the stream though he could not, or would not, confirm for certain. Jun was too much of a gentleman to have followed her. Boremac did not share that particular flaw and looked forward to seeking her out, with luck already in the stream.

  He found her easily, with only her head and a bit of shoulder bobbing above the water line as the stream passed around her, and he cursed his foul luck. Her dark hair cascaded down her back just a bit past the shoulder, slightly longer than the last time they had seen one another, he noted, facing her back. Boremac should have become accustomed to the special form of mistreatment Alchendia enjoyed serving him whenever Jasmine was nearby. She was so close, yet completely untouchable as always, and he was compelled by the little grace he had to announce his arrival. “Ah, Jasmine, A great pleasure to see you again. It would be a greater pleasure to see more of you.”

  “I know that it would, Boremac.” She turned slowly, rising torturously as she did, to face him. “Perhaps Alchendia and I have finally conspired to make this night one of great pleasure for you…” She paused as the water level began to fall away from the roundness of her bosom. “or perhaps not.”

  Boremac released the breath he had been holding and furrowed his brow by way of answer as she dipped back into the water, only her head showing now. “If I were a fish, I would give you no end of grief, Jasmine.”

  “If you were a fish, I would only frighten you off, Boremac. Go on a ways so that I can dress. Turn your back. Probably want to walk about half way to town to avoid the te
mptation to peek. It would be very impolite to peek.” She gracefully rounded forward into the stream, her back side poking out just a moment less than Boremac would have hoped for as she did, making a final rinse of her body.

  “Alchendia, this one is too cruel. What have I done to receive this’blessing’, I wonder?” Boremac muttered sarcastically. “Surely the God of Light would forgive my sins and accept me as a humble servant.” The bit of distant rolling thunder that followed immediately after his words answered his question. “Or perhaps not. I guess you are stuck with me, my cunning Queen.” Boremac was true to his word and Jasmine called out to him once she had changed into her leathers. The sly smile she wore told him all he needed to know when he returned.

  “You have been… busy. The tavern stench hangs over you like a fog. Get tidied and I will see you later. You know where I will be.” She scrunched her delicate nose to show her displeasure with him.

  “Remain, please. I have stories to tell and more things to share, much more.” Boremac shed his leathers with professional efficiency. “I will not be long and I need your help with something besides.” She nodded by way of response, not hiding the fact she took extra time bringing her eyes even with his own in the process.