Wrangler

by Hondo Jinx

  For several seconds the world glowed, his laughing mistress and everything else in his field of vision sparkling magically.

  Instantly, Braddock felt as buzzed as he might off several shots of good whisky, though he felt none of the slop or slur or surliness that so often accompanied drinking liquor.

  He felt sharp and well, fully awake and fully aware.

  And down in his icy jeans, he was suddenly very, very hard.

  “Oh Master,” Tilly said with a mischievous smile, brushing at his hardness. “You’ve spilled a drop on your jeans. There now. Do you like it?”

  Braddock was stunned. “Like it?” He hauled her onto his lap.

  Tilly giggled and struggled to escape, but he held her tight.

  “I love it,” he told her, and realized the other sprites had surrounded them and were grinning down at him. “Now I understand why you’ve all been so excited.”

  They nodded excitedly.

  But something occurred to him as, glancing past them, he saw the refugees draped across the cabin floor. “It’s a shame we’ll have to postpone our party.”

  “Postpone it?” Elizabeth said, surging into the circle. “Oh no you don’t, Mr. Braddock. We are still having the party.”

  The sprites nodded in agreement, and he realized they had hashed this all out while he was gone.

  “We need this party,” Elizabeth said. “And these poor people need it worse than we do.”

  “But our supplies—”

  “We’ll make them last,” Esper, of all people, interrupted.

  “And there is plenty of wine,” Tilly chimed in. “I’ve been making extra to trade with gnomes in spring. Even a wild party would use only a quarter of our supply.”

  Braddock opened his mouth but realized he had nothing to say. Parties, merriment, food and wine… these were all part of their domain, not his.

  “Excellent,” Elizabeth said. “That settles it, then. In three days, we celebrate!”

  35

  Thirty minutes into the party, the fur folk were drunk as skunks. They danced and sang and squeaked. The females mobbed Chundra, who was doing a silly dance that made him look like he was attempting to pirouette while in the throws of an epileptic fit.

  The party was too loud and chaotic and costly for Braddock’s tastes, but he could see his women had been right. His people needed this outlet.

  Lala sang beautifully and danced in midair, fluttering her wings subtly, making it seem that she was performing on an invisible stage.

  Her beautiful voice rose and fell, coaxing them through a host of powerful emotions—joy, sorrow, pride, loss, nostalgia, hope—all while Tilly’s wine lit their blood on fire and kept bringing their spirits back to a centerline of contentedness.

  Philia and her handmaidens looked absolutely stunning in the new gowns Spinner had created for the occasion. The curvy little minx had a gift for creating garments that somehow managed to make their wearers appear more naked than if they were literally wearing nothing at all.

  She had made the party gowns from the silk of giant spiders that inhabited a cave on the far wall of the canyon. The deep black fabric clung, shimmering, to the sprites’ incredible bodies, so thin Braddock wondered if his lustful stares might tear the dresses from their plunging necklines to the dramatic thigh slits that rose up from hem to hipbone.

  Philia sidled up for a kiss. “Dance with us, husband?”

  “No thanks, darlin. I’m not really a dancer. Besides, I’d rather just stand here and enjoy watching you girls dance together.”

  Philia gave him another kiss then bowed slightly. “Your wish is our command, husband.” Then she flew off to rejoin her handmaidens.

  Braddock leaned back, watching them move and sipping his excellent wine and loving life.

  He had considered drinking out of the golden goblet from the crypt but decided not to risk it in a room full of drunken fur folk. Gold was soft and easily damaged, and when spring arrived, he hoped to trade the cup to the gnomes for nails and tools.

  He hoped the remaining gems and gold pieces would be enough to free the little woman frozen in the orange stone. Though at this point, he couldn’t imagine finding time to travel to Black Harbor and look for a wizard or sorceress.

  Whatever the case and whatever the drinking vessel, it was nice having a break after so many weeks of hard work.

  Over the last three days, they relocated the rat folk to the root cellar. As subterranean dwellers, they loved the space, and they honored his simple rules: don’t touch the food, and don’t lift the heavy beam that barred the underground door.

  The food no doubt tempted the ravenous rat folk, but they hadn’t nibbled so much as a single tuber.

  The second rule, on the other hand, had been easy to follow, because the rat folk were terrified of the bad smells and snuffling sounds coming from the other side of the barred door.

  “There’s a monster on the other side of that door,” Ragget assured Braddock after getting his people settled. “We can smell its sour breath and hear its drool hitting the floor beyond.”

  “What sort of monster?”

  Ragget had shrugged and offered a wry smile. “A hungry one, Lord?”

  The one-armed rat man had done an admirable job picking up where his departed brother had left off. His people respected him and followed his dead brother’s wishes, obeying Braddock’s every command and regularly voicing their deep gratitude.

  The previous day when the weather had broken, the two young men Willet had selected started for Black Harbor. Braddock gave them jerky, hardtack, and weapons he’d taken from the goblins. The boys were upbeat and enthusiastic and had set off at a trot.

  They would follow the river south to Black Harbor and share their tale of woe with Red Eyes, who was not a god after all, but their lord and employer and, they all assured Braddock, the strongest, smartest, most respected rat man of all history.

  From what Braddock had gathered, Red Eyes had stowed away on a smuggler’s boat as a child and worked his way up and down the river until he, himself, was the most powerful smuggler from The Belt to Black Harbor. He had used his great power and wealth—and not a little of his hard-nosed experience—to become one of The Twelve, the League of Merchants that effectively controlled all trade north of The Belt.

  Red Eyes was also the employer and hero of the rat folk Braddock had saved. He had sent them to a fledgling silver mining outpost on the Little Pate River several days’ travel to the east.

  They had been happily scratching for silver when the Sidians struck. Most of the village died in the opening attack, but Willet had managed to hustle a small number of survivors into a mine before the Sidians reached that edge of the settlement.

  Thinking quickly, Willet had collapsed the mine, then used its twisting passages to escape underground. It had been a close thing, and many had died along the way.

  Here at the cabin, three more rat folk had died after Willet’s passing. Since then, however, most had rallied impressively, thanks in large part to Philia’s healing elixirs.

  The few who remained too weak to join the party were presently resting in Elizabeth’s cabin, attended by Mitti, the young mother whose newborn, Pippi, Braddock had carried through the blizzard.

  The party was obviously boosting the spirits of the rat folk. Braddock even saw laughter in some of their dark, shiny eyes.

  A few of the rat folk produced recorders and played along with Lala’s magnificent singing as Braddock’s other mistresses swung through a wild square dance with the drunken fur folk.

  “A bite to eat, Lord Braddock?” Kalili, a rat girl hovering on the brink of womanhood, offered him a tray heaped with mouthwatering choices.

  Esper had truly outdone herself with the feast, using Elizabeth’s stove and the hearth and filling both cabins with delicious aromas. She had prepared a hearty stew; fresh bread; slab bacon caramelized with brown sugar; roasted vegetables; thin slices of deer heart and medallions of yearling mutton, both glaze
d with mustard; and juicy sausages browned to perfection.

  “Thank you,” Braddock said, selecting a thick and fatty slice of slab bacon.

  Smiling, Kalili curtseyed and departed to serve others.

  Braddock’s mouth watered as he raised the slab bacon toward his mouth.

  Then the door opened.

  And suddenly, his eyes were feasting so ravenously that he couldn’t think about food. Even bacon.

  Lala kept singing, but all around the cabin, the party skipped a beat. Everyone stopped to stare in wonder at the vision of loveliness that was Elizabeth O’Boyle dressed in one of Spinner’s black spider silk gowns and a pair of strappy black sprite sandals.

  The scintillating black gown shimmered on Elizabeth’s fantastic figure like a thin coat of fresh ink.

  Dumbstruck, Braddock watched the luscious redhead drain her goblet and reach for a pitcher of Tilly’s sprite wine.

  He had been wondering what was delaying Elizabeth. Judging by the pink flush of her pale cheeks, she had been drinking in her cabin, perhaps building the courage to join the party wearing the stunning and very revealing gown.

  Braddock heard laughter behind him but was unwilling to peel his eyes from Elizabeth to trace the source.

  Spinner’s voice said, “Surprise, Master. Do you approve of Elizabeth’s gown?”

  He started to answer but had to take a swallow of wine to find his voice. “Yes, Spinner. Very much. Good work.”

  She fluttered up beside him and kissed his cheek. “Perhaps Master will reward me tonight for the surprise?”

  “Sure,” Braddock said, realizing he had grown half hard at the sight of Elizabeth. “I’ll reward you tonight, darlin.”

  Elizabeth sipped her new pour and wriggled, straightening her gown, and the rippling of her curves against the thin silk pitched Braddock the rest of the way to full hardness.

  He crossed the room.

  Elizabeth struggled, trying not to smile, blushed bright red, then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Mr. Braddock.”

  “Elizabeth,” he said, “you look very nice tonight.”

  She gave a dip of her head and momentarily lost her battle with the smile. “Thank you for saying so, Mr. Braddock.”

  Impulsively, he held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

  “Oh, I… thank you, Mr. Braddock, I would be delighted.”

  Elizabeth slipped her hand into his. Her palm was warm and damp.

  Braddock pulled Elizabeth toward him, lifted her hand in the air, and slipped his other hand on the small of her back. Then he shuffled out into the open, turned, shuffled, turned again, staring down into her bright blue eyes.

  “I should warn you,” he said. “I don’t really know how to dance.”

  “That’s all right, Mr. Braddock. I’m not much of a dancer, either. Let’s just fake it and see if the others notice.” She smiled, and this time, there was no holding back. This was her full, true smile, the same gorgeous, glowing smile that had tempted him to sign on with the wagon train back on Earth.

  Lala’s singing slowed, the tone growing sweet and nostalgic.

  Braddock and Elizabeth moved at the center of the room, smiling at one another.

  “I was wrong,” Elizabeth said.

  “About what?”

  She raised her red eyebrows. “About a lot of things, Mr. Braddock. About the fur folk, for starters. I was distraught when you invited them into our cabins.”

  “Our cabins? I seem to remember you being specifically unhappy about them moving into your cabin.”

  Elizabeth grinned. “Fair enough. But the point is, I was wrong. The fur folk are wonderful. They’ve been an asset, not a liability.”

  “You didn’t think so when they burned a hole in your roof.”

  Elizabeth shook her head, laughing. “No, not so much then. But they did fix the roof.”

  They danced as they talked, their two bodies moving as one.

  “I was also wrong about the refugees,” Elizabeth said.

  “How’s that?”

  “I assumed they would put a horrible burden on us.”

  “I’m kindly surprised to hear you say that. After all, you were the only one who agreed with me about rescuing them.”

  Elizabeth tilted her head, half smiling. “We didn’t rescue them for profit, Mr. Braddock. We rescued them because it was the right thing to do.”

  He nodded.

  She laughed. “But who am I to pontificate about morality? You were the one who saved them, not I. And on that note, I must make one final confession: I was also wrong about you.”

  “How’s that?”

  Suddenly, Elizabeth wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Well, it started back on Earth… with those stories about you? Things they said you had done. I was frightened. But you have since proven your character, Mr. Braddock. You are brave and decent and—”

  Elizabeth laughed again, interrupting herself and shaking her head. “I’m not so good admitting when I’m wrong.”

  “Well, you seem to be doing all right. What do you say we drop it, though, and just dance?”

  “No, I have more to say.”

  Braddock smiled as they turned another circle. She was very graceful on her feet, and they moved naturally together. “Well, go ahead and unload your wagon, darlin. I’m in no hurry.”

  And that was the truth. After months of relative nearness, this was their first moment of true closeness. And with sprite wine warming his blood, Braddock was savoring the sight and feel of this beautiful woman like a played-out stallion savoring a cool drink at the end of a long, dusty trail.

  Elizabeth looked directly in his eyes and held his gaze. “What I’m trying to say, what I need to say, is thank you.”

  “Thank you? For what?”

  “For what? For everything!” Elizabeth shook her head. “I can’t believe it took me this long to properly express my gratitude. Another thing I’m not so good at, I suppose.”

  She looked at her feet.

  Releasing her hand, Braddock gently lifted her chin. He missed looking into those blue eyes.

  For a long time, he had reined in his feelings for this woman. Back on Earth, Elizabeth had set his imagination afire. Here on Tardoon, he quickly decided that she was out of reach.

  But now, as they shared this special moment, his longstanding attraction came roaring back with the raw power of a prairie tornado.

  The woman in his arms was strong and smart and brave, beautiful and fierce. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to fight for it, and he appreciated that.

  Also, he and Elizabeth were the only Earthlings on all of Tardoon, and that mattered, too.

  “Everything happened so fast,” she said, “and…”

  “What?”

  “Thank you for saving me, Mr. Braddock, that day we came here.”

  “No problem, darlin. Besides, I seem to recall you already thanking me for—”

  “No, I want you to hear my words, Mr. Braddock: thank you.” She stared intensely into his eyes. “You saved me. And I was awful to you. I was so upset. I didn’t want to be here. And I was afraid of you.”

  He shrugged. “Everybody on Earth was afraid of me.”

  If Elizabeth heard him, she didn’t show it. She just carried on, a woman with a message to deliver. Perhaps before she lost her courage. “Even that first day, I was trying to see through the stories, struggling to square them with the man who had saved me. But then you brought in Chundra and Doal and Philia, and the next thing I knew I was jealous.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Yes,” she said, and looked away, blushing bright red again. “I was terribly jealous. I was jealous of what you and Philia shared.”

  Braddock stared at her in disbelief. Were his wife and mistresses right about Elizabeth after all?

  If so, they were certainly right about him; he did not understand women.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Braddock asked.

  “What would I say? You ma
de your choice. And you must remember, I was terribly conflicted. I was still frightened of you. But I was also…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Tilly’s wine is making me say things I will regret tomorrow.”

  “So you don’t mean what you’re saying?”

  Elizabeth leaned back, her expression looking almost offended. “I’m not some silly drunken girl, Mr. Braddock. Yes, I mean what I’m saying. Of course, I mean it. I’ve been thinking these things for a long, long time. I almost said something to you after you started building my cabin, but then Tilly showed up.”

  Realizing they were spinning close to a corner again, Braddock directed Elizabeth once more toward the center of the cabin, remembering how awkward it had been when she walked in the night Braddock first fed Tilly.

  “Then, when I told myself I was being silly, that you were simply adapting to the rules of this world and I was still holding onto the ways of Earth, I almost expressed myself again.”

  “Expressed yourself?”

  “Yes, my thoughts. My… desires. But before I could build up the courage to speak with you, the other sprites showed up. And you bonded with all of them. Esper and Lala were your mistresses before I even knew they existed.”

  “It was the right thing to do,” Braddock said. Then, realizing that his words sounded apologetic, he added, “And I’m glad I bonded with them. They are good women.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “They’re wonderful. Will you take other wives?”

  He nodded. “You know I will. Or mistresses, anyway.”

  “Yes, please do bond with more handmaidens,” Elizabeth said. “I do not want to be sold to the centaurs.”

  “I will do everything in my power to keep that from happening.”

  She smiled. “I know you will. You make me feel very safe, Mr. Braddock. Well, as safe as a woman could feel in this harsh world.”

  “I’m glad.” Her back felt small and firm in his hand. He resisted the urge to haul her close and tell her how much he wanted her, how much he had always wanted her. “But to further answer your question, yes, I will be taking more wives. And not just sprites. Every time I bond with a new woman, we all grow more powerful.”