“You’re pretty,” Cobb said, “even a might more than Emm.”
Samantha frowned, and the sudden realization that Cobb was a bit simple finally came to her.
“You look hungry,” he stated once more.
“I am,” Samantha repeated, wishing he would just invite her to have some, but he just stood there looking at her. Finally he looked down at his feet.
“I’d like to have a go at you,” he said in a low voice.
“Wha…what?” Sam asked, though she was sure she had heard him correctly.
Cobb looked up and beamed at her. “I’m a trader. I want to have a go at you. You can have my food. We trade,” he added motioning back and forth between them, obviously very proud of himself for thinking of such a thing.
“A go at me?”
Cobb nodded. “I don’t get a go at anyone but whores,” he stated, just a little angry. “And they won’t let me have a go at Emm. Emm’s not for me. That’s what they say.”
Sam shivered, mostly because the wind on her wet clothes was making her cold, but also from the idea of letting Cobb have a go at her. She even pulled Bull’s head around to leave, but did not spur him on. She glanced back at the food, then again at the bow.
Cobb’s face brightened. “You want to have a go with me?” Cobb asked.
She shook her head. “No,” she answered and he looked crestfallen. “Could I have your bow? I’ll trade you a blanket for it,” she said hopefully.
Cobb frowned. “My bow…. for a blanket. No… no trade. You think Cobb is stupid. Cobb has lots of blankets, not worth a bow any day,” he added, clearly put off.
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Sam answered hastily, her eyes moving back to the food as if they had a will of their own. She’d not eaten for two days now and had been on the move almost constantly. Hunger was quite literally eating at her brain, making it hard to think of anything else.
“A blanket for some food?” She put forth, though now without much hope. She knew she should leave, but still she sat there, and most shocking to her was the fact that in her hunger, she was actually considering ‘having a go with him.’
“No…no,” Cobb said clearly relishing his part as trader, and though at first she believed others may have taken advantage of Cobb because of his simple nature, now she was not so sure.
“Food…and the bow, for a go,” Cobb finally said, sweetening the deal. “You look nicer than Emm,” he added as if this might help woo her.
Sam thought for a moment…debating, then the reality of the situation thrust itself into the forefront of her thoughts. Was she actually considering letting this man…a stranger no less, be intimate with her? She could not believe it was true, but then her stomach clenched painfully again, obviously casting its vote. She was just as shocked when all at once; she slid from the saddle of her horse.
“Just one go,” she said even now not truly believing what she was doing, but going two days without food, and the prospect of going a third had a way of changing your mindset. She suddenly wished she’d eaten more in the briar but at the time she’d been too sick with worry. Thinking back she realized she’d only eaten two decent meals in the past week. She was not accustomed to going without and she was quickly losing weight and strength.
Cobb nodded vigorously. “One go,” he agreed and put out his hand to shake. She didn’t take it at first.
“And arrows,” she added making sure she was not going to get taken. Cobb frowned again.
“Cobb is no cheat,” he said indignantly. “What good is a bow without arrows?”
“Arrows then…and only one go,” she said and to her complete disbelief she saw herself reach out and shake Cobb’s hand, and it was then that a possible way out of this came to her. She allowed Cobb to pull her closer.
“May I see the bow first,” she began with a sweet smile. “It looks so big I may not be strong enough to pull it back.”
Cobb thought about it for a moment and then smiled back at her. “Yes…yes, Cobb is strong, but you look strong too,” he said and slapped her hard on the back before leading her around the fire and food, to the bow. Her thoughts were momentarily distracted by the sweet smell of bacon until he held out the bow for her to try. Sam forced herself to ignore the food, which was so very close, and collected the bow, then with an easy motion bent and picked up an arrow. She notched it and pulled it back as far as she could. Her arms were shaking, she was much weaker than she had suspected, but she managed to bring the point of the arrow around so that it lined up with Cobb’s midsection. He was smiling at her.
“See…see,” he said. “You are strong for such a little girl.” She continued to hold the arrow pointed at him, and finally his smile began to falter.
“I need your food,” Sam said, and began to back away from him toward the fire, but she made absolutely sure that her aim was still on him. She didn’t want to, but she would kill him if it came to that. But then his face fell, not into fear or anger, but into deep, deep sadness.
“Cobb, I can’t have a go with you,” she said trying to explain. “But I need your food and the bow. Won’t you help me?”
Cobb shook his head. “I need a go…please. You promised. We shook on it,” he answered still sad, and a little indignant.
“Cobb…” she began and then had to release the tension on the arrow. She could not hold it any longer and was afraid that it would be accidentally pulled from her grip. The smell of the food was really getting to her. Her stomach was now painfully clenching almost continuously, and she was beginning to feel faint.
“Please,” Cobb said before she could continue. “Cobb won’t hurt you. Cobb never hurts girls.”
Samantha studied him for a moment longer, then made up her mind and put down the bow. “I have to eat first,” she said, and Cobb beamed at her. His happiness seemed to permeate the entire camp, and she couldn’t help but smile back, though she was far from looking forward to their promised encounter. ‘What does in matter?’ She thought to herself. ‘My virginity is already gone.’ These thoughts left her as Cobb moved past and began to scoop out a helping of beans onto a tin plate. He held it out with a smile.
“Eat,” he said and she didn’t need a second invitation. She took the plate and squatted as close to the fire as she could. The first bite was so hot that she had to spit it back onto the plate when it began to burn her mouth. Cobb laughed, but turned around from where he was sitting and grabbed a canteen full of water. He handed it to her and she took it without a word. She followed the next bite up with a sip of water to cool it, and was sure she had never tasted anything so wonderful, not even the blackberries.
She ate the plate of beans just as quickly as she could, and felt immensely better. She was still far from satisfied, and as the beans cooled and her stomach began to fill she realized that they tasted, in fact, very good.
“These are excellent beans, Cobb,” She held the plate out for more, and Cobb grinned at her, nodding and filled her plate again, but when he was done, she placed the plate on a flat part on the rocky ground and walked to Bull.
Cobb immediately stood up behind her. She glanced back. “No tricking,” she said without a smile. She pulled off the saddle, then the blanket beneath. She patted Bull on the neck then turned back to the fire.
“Cobb, do you have a rope to hobble Bull?” She asked.
“Ummm,” Cobb said with a nod of his head and then he moved off down the path to his boat, still beached along the riverbank. She used the time while he was gone to strip out of her wet clothing. She flattened them out as close to the fire as she could without singeing them, so that they lay next to Cobb’s. She was just wrapping the blanket around her naked body when Cobb returned. She squatted down once more and took up her plate, completely unaware that her right leg was plainly visible up past her knee. Cobb however, was very aware of her soft white flesh and eyed it hungrily as she ate another plateful of delicious beans.
She ate much more slowly this time, trying to
put off the inevitable. The sun had set, though the western sky still held a hint of light. Cobb, for his part, waited patiently for her to finish.
She was full when she spooned the very last of the bean juice into her mouth. She looked at the empty plate for a moment, then shyly up at Cobb. He was watching her with an intensity that made her uneasy.
“You won’t hurt me?” she asked again.
“No,” he said huskily, shaking his head. He stood and placed a few more pieces of driftwood on the fire, then turned to her. Samantha lay back on the rock and opened the blanket for his eyes. He stared at her a moment, then pulled down his long underwear.
“I don’t hurt girls,” he whispered, hovering over her, and surprisingly he did not. He moved slow and easy the entire time and only let out a small grunt as he finished. He rolled off of her breathing heavily. Samantha expected to have the overwhelming desire to wash herself like she did after the Executioner had taken her, but when he was done, all she felt was tired. Good to his word, Cobb was soon snoring softly at her back. Sam lay awake for a time, thinking of how much her life had changed these past days, and as the night grew colder she moved closer to Cobb’s large warm body and slowly drifted off to sleep.
ǂ
Gwaynn and Krys found the Lonogan Lumber Mill easily. It was a very large place built directly alongside the banks of the river, with stacks of unprocessed trees piled near a great open ended mill that housed enormous saws, some of which were powered by large waterwheels tucked into the Scar River. There were also dozens of two handed saws powered by men. The smell of freshly cut wood permeated the air as they entered the mill, walking on a soft layer of thick sawdust. They immediately attracted a great deal of attention, and more than a dozen cutters stopped what they were doing to observe the newcomers. However, the two were near the middle of the mill before an extremely large man approached them. The man was easily the largest person Gwaynn had ever met, even bigger than Karl. He was at least a full head taller than Krys, who was a tall young man, but it was the width of his shoulders and thickness of his neck, arms and wrists which truly made him massive. The man had long dark hair which was pulled back and secured with a leather thong behind his back.
The man eyed the two up as he walked toward them. “Looking for work?”
He asked without a smile. He seemed even bigger close up.
“No,” Gwaynn said, taking the lead. “Are you Lonogan Bock?”
The large man let out a bark of a laugh. “Not likely. Name’s Lee Brandt. I’m the foreman of the mill.”
He announced this with obvious pride and held out a hand to Gwaynn, who took it. Lee Brandt immediately began to squeeze…hard. It was his favorite technique, simple, straightforward and very effective. Those who sought Bock had to get through him, and he wasn’t about to let any young pup waltz in and disturb his boss, the greatest person alive in his estimation.
Gwaynn winched and bent over, his free hand going to his other wrist. Lee smiled and squeezed harder, watching as his victim bent down and forward. He waited for either the kicks to begin or for the youngster to fall to his knees in submission. He was ready to protect himself from the kicks, but Gwaynn did neither instead he slowly stood back up.
“Release me,” the young man demanded; his jaw tight from the pain.
Lee laughed and squeezed just a might harder, waiting for the kick.
It never came, instead the stranger tried to pull his hand from Lee’s. The big man smiled and his grip tightened further, but then in easy, practiced movements the young man pulled Lee’s arm straight, turned it slightly then stepped across his body to Lee’s right. Lee’s arm was now somehow twisted, but held straight. He felt the young man’s other hand against the back of his straightened elbow. The hand began to push against the joint, and to Lee’s surprise he was being forced to bend forward, then down to keep from having his arm snapped at the joint. He squeezed the hand in his grip harder, but still he was being forced downward, first to his knees, then his head and face were actually touching the sawdust on the floor. Belated he tried to strike out with his other hand, but his own body effectively blocked any such counter strike. Lee was face down in the dirt looking directly at the muddy boots of the young man who surprisingly had the upper hand. Lee grunted with pain as the force on his elbow continued. The strange young man began to ply greater and greater pressure to his elbow until Lee felt positive that it was very near breaking.
“Can you crush my hand before I snap your arm in two?” Gwaynn said evenly despite the pain pulsing from his injured hand. He stared directly into the face of the big man, who must have seen something deadly in the eyes of the younger one above him, because he immediately released Gwaynn’s hand. Gwaynn had to force himself not to sigh with relief, but he did flex his injured hand several times. He kept hold of Lee Brandt’s elbow for a moment longer before finally releasing him and stepping away. Lee did not know it, but at that moment he had never been so close to death, it would only take a slight error in judgment for the Black Horseman to reach out and take him. But to his credit, Lee made no error; he just simply stood up rubbing his arm and looking at the pair of young men who he’d obviously underestimated.
“Where’s Lonogan Bock?” Gwaynn asked again, his hand very close to his knife.
“Who’s asking?”
Gwaynn relaxed a bit. If the big man was talking he was not likely to attack again, but still he kept alert. There was now a small crowd around them, and their faces were not exactly friendly.
“My name’s Gwaynn,” he finally answered and was aware that Krys had bent over and with a smooth motion removed his kali from his bag. There were gasps from the crowd of men surrounding him, and a few even took a couple of steps back. Krys twirled the weapons in a mindless display that proved nothing of the fighting skills of those who performed them, but he knew it would impress the laymen of the group. It did.
“And this is my Weapons Master, Krys Logan,” Gwaynn added with a shake of his head at his friend’s antics.
“Weapons Master?” asked a voice from the right behind the circle of men. They parted immediately and let a middle-aged blond man walk through to join those in the center of the ring.
Gwaynn said nothing just turned to examine the new arrival. From the demeanor of the men around him, he gathered that this was at last Lonogan Bock. Bock was younger than he expected, only around thirty years of age, but had an air of command about him that left no doubt who led these men. He was tall, though only a bit taller than Krys, and was powerfully built, with a strong chest and bulky arms, but even he looked small next to Lee Brandt.
“Weapons Master?” Bock asked again. “It’s a term only royalty uses,” he added coming to a stop, then he glanced at Krys. “Kali have been outlawed by the Deutzani.”
“The Deutzani don’t rule me,” Gwaynn answered forcefully.
Bock laughed a quick short laugh but then sobered almost immediately. “Don’t they? And just what did you say your name was again?”
“My name is Gwaynn,” he said, noticing Bock’s eyes go wide. Bock gave Gwaynn a small negative shake of the head, and a glance like a warning. Gwaynn ignored it, but made ready as he finished. “Gwaynn Massi.”
Bock’s eyes flashed over Gwaynn’s right shoulder, but before anyone else could even react Gwaynn’s knife was out and with one quick step he buried it into the chest of the man Lonogan suspected. The man’s eyes grew wide, but he only had time to flinch before the knife pierced his heart. He slumped onto the soft floor without a sound. Gwaynn removed the knife and whirled back to Bock.
“Any others?” he asked. Bock shook his head, a look of awe spreading over his face. Several of the others including Lee Brandt backed away several steps, and there was a good deal of murmuring in the crowd.
“Only him,” Bock said and then frowned. “No one can move that fast,” he protested, but Gwaynn simply shrugged. He had moved quickly, but also knew that he was capable of moving much, much faster.
�
�I wish you wouldn’t have done that. We will have to cover his death,” Bock said, looking down at the dead man with an almost sad expression on his face.
Gwaynn shrugged. “Logging is dangerous work.”
“Yes,” Lonogan said with a sigh. “But I still wish you hadn’t done that.”
“He was a Deutzani spy,” Gwaynn answered.
“Yes, but we knew that about him. We may not know the next,” Bock said and then bowed low. The others remained where they were for a long moment, slow to catch on, until Lonogan added. “Welcome home, M’lord.” Soon they were all bowing, at least until Gwaynn put a stop to it. Lee Brandt was the last to rise, red-faced with embarrassment, and trying desperately not to catch Gwaynn’s eye.
“Nothing is more likely to get me killed than men fawning over me,” Gwaynn added insisting that they all treat him as one of their own.
“Afton Sath warned me that you were coming back to Massi,” Bock said as he nodded to Lee, who got the men back to work. “But I had a hard time believing him. He’s out looking for you now,” he added with a glance at Krys.
“May we eat something?” Gwaynn asked noticing the glance. “I’ve used up a bit of energy.”
“Of course,” Bock said with a smile and led them to a large set of stairs at one end of the mill. The stairs led upward to a loft which contained several rooms. Bock kept sneaking looks over at Gwaynn, and occasionally Krys. “You are not what I was expecting.”
ǂ
Samantha woke the next morning to the smell of frying bacon. She rolled over and looked at the fire and the pan resting in the hot coals. Cobb was nowhere in sight. She sat up and finding herself naked beneath the blanket remembered the night before, and what she had done, and all for a plateful of beans. She rubbed her forehead in dismay, then quickly stood and after wrapping the blanket tightly around her body, moved to the far side of the fire to check her clothes. Her shirt was dry and her skirt was nearly so. She looked about for Cobb, but still did not see him, so she removed the blanket and dressed as quickly as possible. She finished and was turning the bacon when Cobb returned, coming up the rocky path, his hat in his hands, and in the hat were half a dozen eggs. He moved carefully, but nearly tripped as he looked up at her and smiled. After that he kept a closer eye on the path and did not look at her again until he was very near the fire.
The Black Horseman Page 33