by Travis Bughi
“Cute face that is, but she’s lacking a bit in the meat department,” he explained. “See, I like me women with some cushion around the edges. More of them to love, you see? There’s nothing like a girl who will keep you warm in the winter and give you shade in the summer.”
The pirate demonstrated with lavish hand movements, and Emily laughed. She couldn’t be sure if the exaggeration was intentional, but she loved the joke all the same. The pirate gave Emily a smile and a wink.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one,” Paul said.
“Have to say, farmer, you’re missing out!” the pirate tisked. “I married a woman once who was so large that she carried me in one arm and a barrel of rum in the other! Best voyage I ever had, not a doubt. Course, I had to divorce her when the rum ran out, you know, on account of the rum being gone.”
“My condolences for your loss,” Paul muttered. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m rather busy. Is there something you would like to purchase?”
“I have a crew what just got in,” the man said. “We’ll be headed out for the biggest score of their life soon, and they be hungry, to say the least. Since we can’t be going over to The Kraken’s Eye, I’d say some tasty behemoth meat be just what they need. I’ll take five crates.”
“That can be arranged,” Molly cut in. “What are you paying in?”
The man pulled a pouch out from under his baggy clothing, and Emily wondered just how many more weapons and pouches the man had hidden in his baggy clothes. With a casual toss, the pouch was dropped onto one of the crates as if it meant nothing to its owner. The pouch landed with a loud smack, and the impact opened its top. Emily peered in and saw the bag was full of small diamonds.
Molly swept up the pouch and picked through the contents.
“Had a good haul on the high seas, did you?” she asked.
“Oy! Course!” he snorted. “I am Captain Mosley after all.”
He grinned in all the glory he felt he was earning, but Emily’s mother simply nodded at the comment.
“This will suffice. You can take your crates.”
Captain Mosley whistled across the way, and six men—all dressed as fiercely as their captain, though with less jewelry—came over and hauled the crates up with greedy hands. The pirates laughed at the contents, and more than one whistled at Emily and her mother. Abraham’s face burned red with anger, but neither of Emily’s parents seemed to notice any of it. With more whistling and a few crude jokes, they finally strode away with their food. Captain Mosley gave a final farewell to the Stouts by taking off his hat and bowing low. Then he followed his crew east out of the market square.
When they were safely out of sight, Molly shuddered.
“Pirates,” she said it as if it were a swear word. “Scum of the world, I tell you. They’d rob a baby blind just to pay for a drop of booze.”
“I consider vikings to be worse,” Paul countered.
“Psh, at least vikings have a spine. Pirates would rather run than fight fair.”
“Hence why I consider vikings to be worse.”
Emily looked in the direction the seven men had gone and wondered where they were off to. Where did they travel that brought them such riches? She didn’t envy their behavior, but she wished to travel with them if only to see where they went. The pirates had carried their crates east towards the sea and, Emily assumed, towards their ship. Then, it dawned on her; she still hadn’t visited the ocean.
Chapter 7
“Mother!” Emily yelled.
“What?” Molly whirled around, eyes alight. “What is it?”
Emily reined in her excitement and bit her lip in embarrassment. Hasty requests were not well rewarded, especially not when they were mistakenly interpreted as signs of distress. Molly saw that her daughter wasn’t dying and let one eye narrow.
“Would it be okay if Abe took me and Nicholas down to see the ocean?”
Molly sighed, likely knowing it was only a matter of time for this question to be asked. She faked consideration, looked around to see if there was any work to do, and glanced at her husband to see if he had any disagreements. Paul simply shrugged and turned back to haggling with the leprechaun who had returned. Molly turned back to her children.
“Sure, but be careful,” she said. “Stay close to Abraham and don’t run off. It’s very dangerous in the city if you’re not careful.”
Emily and Nicholas jumped for joy and shouted their solemn pledge to obey their older brother. Abe smiled, too, happy to take leave of work and see the sights with his siblings.
“This way!” Abe yelled and led them off into the crowds.
He took them through the market toward another main road that led east to the docks. They were unable to walk next to each other in the thick crowds, so they had to form a line. The people always parted for minotaurs and ogres, but farmers were just things in the way. More than once, Emily had to hop to the side to avoid crashing into another person. She kept one hand on her older brother’s shirt and held Nicholas’ hand with the other. They snaked through the gaps and disappeared from their parents’ sight almost instantly.
Emily tried to look ahead and around as they walked east toward the sea, hoping to catch sight of more new and exciting stuff. She tried to think of things her older brother had told her about and started to search for them. She still hadn’t seen any knights yet, and, of course, there were the angels and the vampires. She knew there was little chance of seeing either of those two, though. Vampires didn’t come out during the day, seeing how light could kill them, and the angels were the rulers of the city. They rarely came out for any reason, according to the stories Abe had heard.
Fortunately, she had a good chance of seeing a knight. Abe told her they patrolled the streets regularly, so she kept her eyes open and searching. It was not an easy task given the thick crowds slowly closing in on them. Emily was surprised that the throng of bodies could get worse, but it seemed that the market square had actually been spacious when compared to the narrow streets, especially this busy highway, which had a steady flow of carts being dragged through it. There were far too many people to be pushed aside for all the merchandise being dragged between the market square and the sea.
And the noise, Emily was not used to so much noise. The yelling was getting worse with every added body, and people were shouting over each other just to be heard a pace away. Out on the plains, Emily had begun to find the ceaseless wind to be an annoyance, but this constant bickering and haggling was dragging on her patience. The sights were amazing without a doubt, but the tension and desperation in the air set a rather despairing mood, a sort of thunderbird-eat-thunderbird world where only the strongest (and loudest) would survive.
Amongst all the chatter and the creak of wooden wheels, Emily heard something new nearby. It was the sharp sound of metal striking metal in a slow, rhythmic pattern. Abe noticed it, too, and he turned his head so fast Emily thought it might snap off. Emily tried to see the source of the noise, but the crowd was being pushed back again as another cart was led through the streets. It was a leprechaun’s cart—full of wooden kegs—and had three ogre guards. The crowd wordlessly gave way when the purple beasts flashed their yellow tusks and eyes. Emily looked to Abe to see what he thought of the ogres, but he was using his height to look for the source of the sound of striking metal.
“It’s a blacksmith!” he cried out. “Come on!”
“What about the ocean?” Nicholas asked.
“What if the blacksmith knows about six-shooters?” Abe countered.
Nicholas gasped his surprise and exposed his eagerness with a wide grin. The leprechaun’s cart finished passing by, and the crowd poured into the gap behind it. Emily’s trio pushed forward toward the blacksmith, using the sharp striking sounds as their guide. They crept closer and closer until finally they reached the blacksmith’s shop.
Emily was surprised to see that it was an open shop. There was no door or walls, just a long bench that separated t
he blacksmith’s tools and items from the crowds. Emily saw a few weapons—some swords, but mostly daggers—but also a few shields and many other common household items such as pots, pans, unicorn shoes, shovels, and even a fire poker. In the center, the blacksmith was leaning over an anvil, banging away at something unseen while his forge sat just arm’s length away. Emily could only imagine how hot the thing was. She could feel the heat from shop’s edge. Yet it was the shop’s openness that held her attention. Everything Emily had learned so far about Lucifan told her that a shop like this would close down due to thievery within an hour, but the blacksmith hardly turned when he noticed the trio approach him. He did glance long enough to recognize their trademark clothes: tattered pants, overalls, linen shirts, and straw hats. He’d known they were farmers in a heartbeat.
“Unicorn shoes are ten a piece,” he shouted to them and turned back to his work.
“We’re not here to buy unicorn shoes, sir,” Abe said.
His voice was overly exaggerated, and the blacksmith would have had to be deaf not to pick up on it. He turned to look at Abe, and Emily noticed he was a big man with broad shoulders and heavy arms. He had probably earned them from years of beating metal into the shape that was needed. Although his head was clean shaven, he had a large, black beard. At least, Emily thought it was black. He was covered from head to toe in soot and dirt, so the beard’s real color could have been disguised. His bald head was sweating profusely, and he wiped a hand over it, leaving a dark patch of grime.
The blacksmith gave whatever he was working on a final slam with his hammer—Emily guessed it to be a sword, but that could have just been her fantasy. All she could say for sure was that the item was large, too large for a human, and extremely crude. Emily was instantly reminded of the ogre’s weapon she’d seen in the market square.
“I’m looking for a special item,” Abe leaned in. “Something rare.”
“I make all fashion of weapons and tools, farmer. I make crude blades for ogres, spokes for leprechauns’ carts, even plate armor and broadswords for knights. I’m sure if you need a round-nosed shovel, I can make it for you. Speak plainly or be off. You’re wasting my time.”
Emily balked at the blacksmith’s cutting tone and had to blink to shrug off the sting that followed. Skilled though he claimed to be, this blacksmith was very short on manners! Emily had half a mind to shout back at him, but her uncertainty gave her pause. If this man wasn’t boasting, then Emily could see why the blacksmith’s shop lay open. Providing arms and armor in this city was doubtless a steady business, and if he armed the powerful in Lucifan, then he might have more allies than the angels.
Emily looked to her older brother and found Abe was still recoiling at man’s sharp words. She nudged him, and he shook it off. She waited for him to say something, but his words faltered in his throat, and the blacksmith huffed and turned away. Perhaps they’d taken too much of his time, Emily thought, so she took over for her brother and tried a direct approach.
“Can you make bullets for a six-shooter?” she asked.
The blacksmith had been about to strike with his hammer again when he paused. He furrowed his brow before turning to look at them again, squinting one eye and examining the three stick-like farmers with renewed interest. None of them shrunk under his gaze this time, and the blacksmith licked his dirty lips before setting his hammer down. Slowly, he stepped forward until they wouldn’t have to yell at each other anymore to be heard over the crowd.
“Now, why would you need to know a thing like that?” he asked.
“Let’s just say I only lack the clothes to dress the part,” Abe winked.
The blacksmith paused again, looking from Abe to Emily to Nicholas. He fingered his beard with dirty hands and drew in a deep breath.
“I don’t make the bullets, or the guns,” he admitted, “but suppose I knew someone who did?”
“Where could I find him?”
“It’s simple really, if you know the way. I could tell you now. Just pay me the going rate for downing a behemoth, and you’ll soon be on your way.”
The blacksmith muttered the last part and waved his hand. He kept eye contact with Abe until the younger man broke his gaze to sigh at his siblings.
“Come on,” Abe said. “This conversation is over.”
The blacksmith shrugged and turned back to his work, grabbing a new piece of metal and throwing it into the hot coals of his kiln. The fires churned, belching new heat at the trio as they left.
“He wants us to pay him?” Nicholas asked, exasperated. “Just for information? A whole behemoth?”
“He has a right,” Abe sighed.
He pushed into the crowd, and Emily and Nicholas followed, reluctantly. Abe looked defeated to say the least, which was an interesting mirror to Nicholas’ frustration. Emily’s little brother didn’t even bother to wait until they were out of earshot to voice his anger.
“Well,” Nicholas scoffed, “that’s not fair!”
“I don’t think Lucifan runs on fair, Nicholas,” Emily said.
They resumed their walk to the sea, and Emily tried to forget about the blacksmith in the streets. If that blacksmith wanted to be paid a wealthy sum just to give directions, then he’d been eating the coals he was working with. How outrageous, Emily thought. Maybe to a gunslinger that sum was well worth the cost, but according to Emily’s mother, the Stout family wasn’t going to have the guns much longer anyway. The pistols would be sold along with the bullets and would be someone else’s problem. Hopefully, the buyers would have a few spare coins to get directions.
Maybe the guns would be better off sold, Emily thought. Her family was poor enough and could ill afford to be wasting any money—especially money they didn’t have—on a chance. Even if they did find a blacksmith who made bullets, those would probably cost a vast sum of money. Not to mention if Abe or Nicholas tried to use the six-shooters, they’d probably miss every shot. The eye of a behemoth was a tiny target that bobbed and weaved with every step. Emily hated to admit it, but maybe this dream of theirs was better left as a dream.
Stop it, Emily thought. She was starting to think like her mother, and that was something she never wanted to do. It was Molly’s job to discourage her children, not Emily’s. Maybe Abe’s chances were like throwing a stone at a thunderbird in the dark, but Emily would be taken by a banshee before she told either of her brothers to give up.
Emily looked up at Abe, hoping he’d see the forced cheer on her face, but her older brother was looking down as he walked. Even with his normally positive attitude, he could see his gunslinger dream stretching further and further out. Next to him, Nicholas looked equally distraught, and Emily knew what they hoped for. They both hoped that their parents wouldn’t find a buyer for the guns and that they could convince them to give it a chance, as slim as that chance may be. However, knowing that they wouldn’t even have the money to search for a blacksmith to make bullets, the prospect of success was rapidly disappearing. The Great Plains did that. It was a vast nothing that swallowed people and dreams whole.
Emily tried to swing her brothers’ thoughts away from the tragedy.
“How long until we get to the ocean?” Emily asked.
“It’s not far,” Abe replied.
Emily was going to ask Abe to describe the docks to her as they traveled, but there was a sharp whistle and a loud voice from behind them, booming with authority over all the noise in the street.
“Make way! The angels’ honorable knights are coming through!”
Nicholas gasped and promptly let go of Emily’s hand. Before she could turn to grab her younger brother, he darted back through the crowd toward the voice.
“Abe!” Emily shouted. “Abe! Nicholas is gone!”
“What?” he shouted and turned, searching the crowd. “Damn it! Nicholas!”
“He went towards the knights!”
Abe turned and followed Emily. She cursed Nicholas for his mischievous nature, shouted his name, and felt a pang
of guilt for anything that might happen to him. Nicholas was supposed to be her responsibility, and she should have been prepared for this. Emily pushed through the throng toward the voice she’d heard, leaving her taller brother behind. It was easier for her to move forward than Abe, but the crowd was still fighting her. The masses were pushing back away from the voice, and Emily had to squeeze through every tiny gap to get ahead.
“Nicholas!” she yelled. “Get back here!”
“Knights coming through! Make way!” the voice yelled out again.
Emily pushed forward between another two people and reached the edge of the crowd. In front of her lay open space, and she stepped into it to see who was shouting. Instead, she saw the famous Knights of Lucifan.
There were ten of them, each one mounted on a pegasus. Emily knew they were pegasi for there was nothing else they could be. They looked just like unicorns, only instead of a horn sprouting from their head, they had a pair of feathered wings that extended from their shoulders. The feathers looked strange, because, although their color matched, the rest of the pegasus was covered in hair. There was one black pegasus, several mostly white ones, two brown ones, and one that was a patchwork of those colors. Their wings were folded in, scrunching up against their bodies like a thunderbird’s does when it’s on the ground. They walked with ease and did not appear to be bothered by their riders’ legs, which were hidden behind their wings. The weight of each rider seemed not to bother the pegasi either, and the riders must have been heavy, because they were knights in full armor.
They gleamed in the morning light, and the shine upon their armor ordained them as the soldiers of the angels. From neck to toe, they were covered in metal plates, connected at joints that allowed the knights to move freely. They had removed their helmets, which were casually folded under the arm each knight used to grip the reins. In their other hand, they held a lance pointed vertically toward the sky, and Emily marveled at the strength it must take to hold such a heavy weapon along with so much gear. They also carried a large shield on their backs and a heavy sword at their side.