Wrangler

by Hondo Jinx

  Braddock asked many questions. The rat folk were happy to answer all of them.

  The picture he gained of Black Harbor reminded him of Earth’s cities. Too many people crammed together in tight quarters. Wealth cheek to jowl with squalor. Corruption, crime, violence, and opportunity. A busy place that never slept, ships coming and going at all hours between Black Harbor and the Belt and all points in between.

  Also like the cities of Earth, Black Harbor was, Braddock decided, a place to see… and thereafter avoid.

  Some nights, after the fur folk and rat people turned in, Tilly brought forth a small measure of sprite wine, and they drank and talked and played games. These nights, they were often joined by Elizabeth, who loved wine, and Chundra, who loved games.

  Braddock taught them Chuck-a-luck, poker, three card Monte, and faro.

  The sprites were clever enough and loved games almost as much as Chundra, but they had the worst poker faces Braddock had seen. If he dealt his wife or one of his mistresses a good hand, her eyes would light up and she would grin and sometimes even clap her hands.

  Which was fine when playing for chips backed by stakes of dried corn kernels; but if they ever found themselves on Earth, he would recommend they avoid Deadwood saloons and riverboat casinos.

  Elizabeth, on the other hand, was both clever and cagey. Her only downfall was inconsistency and a lack of any recognizable system. She focused on hands, not games. Sometimes aggressive, sometimes conservative, she won frequently enough to mark herself as a strong player and win the admiration of the sprites. But she was too emotional and let caution build in her like steam, until it took over her play, so things never shook out for her as they might in the long haul.

  Chundra was the sleeper. The furry little bear-man had some trouble manipulating the cards, but that was the extent of his troubles. His poker face was always the same: gleaming eyes over a huge grin. He played his cards well and bested Braddock perhaps a third of the time, more than all the others combined.

  The only truly hopeless player was Shrike. Had they played for meat or seed, she might have taken an interest, but Shrike saw no point to playing for fun.

  Rather than joining in, Shrike perched on the beams and stared at Braddock, telepathically asking for a feeding every few minutes.

  Chundra taught them to play a fur folk favorite, acorn war.

  Four three-foot planks were arranged in a square. Each plank was around eight inches wide.

  Up to six people could play at a time. Each player had an acorn. The acorns were dyed different colors.

  All players started at the lower edge of the first plank, which had a row of six little depressions, each large enough to hold an acorn.

  The players took turns rolling a six-sided die. Each player moved his or her acorn ahead the number of spaces indicated by the roll of the die.

  But unlike the starting rank, which had six spots, the remainder of the square had only one depression per rank, eighteen ranks per plank for a total of the starting rank and seventy-one single-depression ranks.

  When the turn concluded, players who landed on the same rank rolled again. The player with the higher roll moved his or her acorn ahead that number of spaces. The player with the losing roll moved backward that number of spaces.

  Sometimes, the secondary rolls triggered a new combat round when players found themselves vying over another space.

  Once each player secured an uncontested spot for his or her acorn, the next round began.

  The players kept going until all six competitors made it to the finish line at the end of the fourth and final board.

  With six people playing, acorn war could get downright chaotic sometimes, especially with all the ruckus five sprites and Chundra made crying out in victory and despair.

  Braddock enjoyed the game but could never love it because there was no real strategy. It was all luck and laughter, which made it a perfect game for lighthearted play while drinking sprite wine at the end of a hard day.

  The night of the day he heard the woolly dragon caterwauling during daylight hours, Braddock sat out and let the others play acorn war because he was so distracted by thoughts of the dragon.

  For a while, he had been holding back, hoping the beast would turn in some other direction. But it hadn’t. And at this rate, Braddock reckoned the dragon would reach the meadow in a matter of days.

  “We can’t wait for the woolly dragon to find us,” he said after Spinner won a round of acorn war. “The thing is obviously hungry. If it discovers the cattle, it’ll hunker down until it runs them off. Then it’ll come for us. And we can’t afford any part of that equation. We have to hit it before it hits us, and we have to hit it hard enough to drive it away for good.”

  “But husband, we have no way to defeat a woolly dragon. They are too powerful. If I was a full Meadow Mother, perhaps I would develop a spell to drive off such a creature, but right now, we lack such power.”

  Braddock crossed the cabin and picked up the Henry. “This might be enough to drive it off. Maybe even kill it.”

  Remembering the dragon’s size and armored body, he was dubious about his chances of killing it. But maybe he could blind it or convince the beast to search for easier prey.

  “The dragon is fast, especially over open ground, so I’ll need to fight like a goblin.”

  The girls nodded, understanding.

  “I need to get a clean shot from a distance, and I need an escape route.”

  “Unfortunately, husband, dragons are capricious creatures. They move erratically and are masters of camouflage.”

  Braddock grunted. “So it will be hard to set an ambush that meets my requirements.”

  Philia nodded.

  “Shrike will find dragon,” Shrike said aloud. “Shrike will help Man kill dragon. Shrike has always wanted to taste dragon.” She smiled, illuminating her terrible beauty.

  “Thanks, darlin. I would appreciate your help. But I don’t want you getting close. This thing is big and fast.”

  “Shrike is smaller than dragon but faster.”

  Braddock nodded. “I know you’re fast, but I still don’t want you getting close. This thing would gobble you up with one bite.”

  “The head kitchen sprite always said food is the best way to draw the attention of a man,” Esper said. “Perhaps the same holds true for dragons. Perhaps Master could lure the dragon into an ambush.”

  “I was wondering the same thing, darlin. Trouble is, we’re having a hard enough time finding game for ourselves.”

  “What about slaughtering one of the cows?” Lala asked.

  Braddock didn’t have to think about that suggestion. His gut, which increasingly seemed in tune with the meadow itself, rejected it. “I won’t kill them unless I have to. But maybe we’re overthinking this. Maybe we don’t have to kill anything. Maybe we can use living bait.”

  “If you are thinking of the herd, Master, I could create a length of vine cordage strong enough to tether a cow at the edge of the meadow,” Tilly offered. “I’m certain the Meadow Mother could soothe a cow into accepting the leash.”

  Braddock shook his head. “That wouldn’t be a leash. That would be a noose. I’m telling you, this thing is fast. If we don’t know when the dragon is coming, that cow would be meat before you could say get up and go.”

  “I could design a protective enclosure for the cow,” Elizabeth said. “We don’t have enough metal for a proper cage, but we could use a combination of stone and timber.”

  “I appreciate the thought,” Braddock said, “but no can do. It’s too cold and snowy for building. Besides, I reckon anything we built, this dragon could knock over. It’s huge. Fifty feet long, maybe longer. It would smash this cabin like a bear on a beehive. Like I said, though, maybe we’re overthinking this.”

  Turning to Shrike, he said, “You sure you want to help fight this thing?”

  Shrike nodded, silver eyes flashing, and absentmindedly tweaked her nipples. “Yes, Shrike lives to serve
Man.”

  “I’m thinking we don’t need a dying sheep to lure the dragon. I’m thinking a woman’s screams would draw it, too. And if that woman is you, you could fly away before it reached you.”

  Shrike nodded enthusiastically. “Shrike will do this thing. Shrike is fast and brave. Man will reward Shrike with extra feedings?”

  Elizabeth made a gagging noise and touched her fingertips to the high collar covering her pale throat. “Disgusting. I think I just vomited in my mouth a little.”

  “In that case, sweet sister,” Tilly said, smiling slyly and pouring Elizabeth another thimble, “have more wine. You will wash away the bile and relax your mind and body. Perhaps so much that you will come to your senses and beg for a goblet of Master’s seed instead.”

  Elizabeth made another theatrical gagging sound. “And on that odious note, I bid you all goodnight.” She stood, knocked back the wine, and left the cabin.

  “You girls quit ribbing Elizabeth. I reckon that ship has sailed.”

  “Oh, husband. You still believe that?”

  “Yes, she said she wanted to be friends and no more. Now she wears those long dresses, and—”

  The sprites drowned him out with wild laughter. To Braddock’s surprise, Shrike joined in.

  Then Spinner squeaked to Chundra, and even Braddock’s trusty pal joined in the laughter.

  “Go ahead and laugh. But we’re not from these parts. We’re from Earth, and I’m telling you, the woman has closed the door on those possibilities.”

  “Oh, husband,” Philia said, struggling to catch her breath. “It doesn’t matter if a woman has horns or wings or what planet she is from. She is still a woman. And Elizabeth is very much a woman.”

  “She yearns for you, Master,” Lala said. “I can read it in her eyes and every movement of her body.”

  Esper nodded. “I can smell her desire.”

  “Yes,” Tilly agreed. “It’s why she no longer drinks her fill. She fears opening herself up to those desires, fears what it will mean.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Braddock said. “If she was so smitten, she’d just tell me. She basically did the night of the party, but then everything changed.”

  “Which is why she is afraid, husband.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense, darlin. It’s not logical.”

  “We aren’t talking about logic, Master,” Spinner said, nuzzling up to him and fluttering her long, dark lashes. “We are talking about love. Tilly is right. Elizabeth is afraid of her own desires. That’s why she asked me to make her modest clothing.”

  “Did it ever occur to you, darlin, that maybe she asked you to make those clothes because she’d had a change of heart? I reckon she’s wearing those clothes to avoid encouraging my interest.”

  This statement brought on another round of raucous laughter.

  “If that were the case, Master, Elizabeth would have discarded her spider silk gown,” Spinner said. “But she has not discarded it. She’s saving it because she knows what it did to you, and she wants to have that effect over you again… when the time is right.”

  “And what time would that be?” Braddock asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Only Elizabeth can say, husband. She is a woman, and a woman must decide such matters on their own. But you are making things difficult by sending her mixed messages.”

  “Mixed messages? That’s pure foolishness. I keep my distance and don’t say anything that could be misconstrued as courting.”

  “But you treat her like a princess,” Esper said.

  “And undress her with your eyes,” Lala put in.

  All the sprites nodded.

  “Shrike will tear off Woman’s clothes for Man!” Shrike announced, fluttering down from the beams.

  Chundra gave an instinctive squeak of alarm as Shrike landed on the table. Philia’s handmaidens shied back with bulging eyes. They still feared the strange huntress.

  Braddock, on the other hand, had come to accept Shrike as a member of their family, a thing he wouldn’t have thought possible a month earlier.

  Yes, Shrike was strange and spooky, but she had proven herself a good and trustworthy ally. And now that all the girls had fed Shrike from their mouths several times, Philia no longer worried that the bird woman might get hungry and turn one of them into a quick snack.

  Braddock met Shrike’s eager silver eyes, shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, darlin, but don’t do that.”

  “That’s a pity,” Lala said with a little shrug. “I’ve been dying to see what Elizabeth looks like under those clothes.”

  “She looks amazing!” Tilly exclaimed. “I walked in on her bathing and almost climaxed just from seeing her naked body!”

  “It’s true!” Spinner said. “I was on the edge of orgasm the whole time I fitted her for the gown. Her breasts are almost as perfect as yours, Shrike.”

  Shrike beamed.

  “Round and full and firm,” Spinner continued, absentmindedly dropping a hand between her legs and purring as she rubbed her fingers back and forth. “They are milk white with faint freckles and the tiniest, pale pink nipples—”

  “Enough,” Braddock said, irritated to find himself growing hard. “We were talking about the dragon, remember?”

  Then, right on cue, wild caterwauling sounded from the north.

  It was closer than ever before.

  40

  Braddock pictured the landscape between the enclosure and where he reckoned the dragon was hunting. He knew the ground well, and consulting his mental map, he rapidly considered and rejected different places he might hole up.

  He told the girls as much, adding, “If I don’t have distance, I’ll only get off a few shots before he reaches me. And there’s no safe place I can think of, except for a narrow cave on the canyon wall, and that’s nowhere near a good line of fire.”

  “What if you lured the dragon to the canyon floor? Could you shoot from the cave entrance and then duck inside if the dragon came for you?”

  Braddock shook his head. “It’s too far from the cave to the canyon floor. The Henry isn’t a magic wand, it’s a rifle. I need to be close enough to choose my targets.”

  “Oh,” Philia said, sitting up straight and smiling brightly, “that is a very interesting idea.”

  When the Meadow Mother realized everyone was staring at her, she said, “Sorry, Shrike and I were just having a conversation.”

  For as convenient as Shrike’s telepathy could be, especially while hunting, Braddock never got used to the bird woman having silent conversations with the sprites.

  “Are you certain that would happen?” Philia asked Shrike, sounding excited.

  “Yes, Shrike is certain. Of course, it would happen. Shrike has wondered why Man does not wish to fly.”

  “Fly?” Braddock said. “You’re strong, darlin, but I don’t think you’re big enough for me to ride.”

  “Oh, she’s big enough for you to ride, husband,” Philia said, smiling mischievously, and snapped her fingers. “Handmaidens, strip your Meadow Master.”

  “Hold your horses,” Braddock said, then backpedaled as the sprites attacked him, tugging and yanking and unbuckling.

  They had him halfway out of his clothes before he bellowed, and they all retreated, looking frightened but panting with lust.

  Braddock understood. Irritatingly enough, their full-on assault had brought him to hardness. But he wouldn’t have his women calling the shots like that.

  “What are you up to, Philia?”

  “I wanted them to remove your clothing, husband.”

  “Yeah, I figured out that much. But why?”

  “Because bonding is easier when you are naked, husband.”

  “Bonding?” He shifted his gaze to Shrike, who was grinning lasciviously at him, her eyes shining like he was a plump quail dipped in butter and waddling across an empty field. “I thought you were terrified of Shrike.”

  “I was,” Philia admitted. “We all were. From childhood, we had bee
n told stories of ferocious Shrikes, the ultimate coldblooded hunters who love nothing more than snatching tiny spritelings from midair.”

  Shrike nodded enthusiastically. “Shrike loves eating tiny sprites.”

  The sprites took a step back, looking horrified.

  Except for Philia. Smiling, Braddock’s wife patted the bird woman’s shoulder. “Good to know, Shrike, but that’s not my point. And my handmaidens will remember, I am sure, that Shrike is seed-bound to eat no more sprites, regardless of size.”

  Her handmaidens smiled weakly and relaxed a little even as Shrike frowned, her silver eyes going misty as if she were remembering the fun sprite-gobbling days of yesteryear.

  “Yes, Shrike is different from us,” Philia said, “but we have all grown closer. Isn’t that right, handmaidens?”

  Braddock did not miss the subtle shift in Philia’s voice as she infused her question with the tone of expectant command.

  “Yes, Meadow Mother,” her handmaidens chorused, exchanging nervous glances.

  “Excellent,” Philia said. “And husband, am I mistaken in thinking you find Shrike attractive?”

  Shrike stared at Braddock intently, tweaking her nipples again.

  “You are not mistaken,” Braddock said, giving the bird woman a smile. But instead of talking about Shrike as if she weren’t there, he spoke to her directly.

  “I do find you attractive, darlin. Very attractive. And you have proved yourself an asset to our community over the weeks since joining us. You have been an excellent hunting partner. You have brought much meat to our table, meat I would not have gotten on my own. And to top it all off, you haven’t eaten anyone.”

  This drew nervous laughter all around, except from Shrike, who nodded, looking genuinely proud of her restraint.

  “Sometimes, when people are different from one another, they forget to discuss simple things, each assuming the other understands his or her culture,” Philia said. “When one is concerned about getting eaten by a new friend, it is easy to overlook questions about other things… like what would happen if that new friend were to bond with one’s husband.”

  “And what will happen?” Braddock asked.