by Logan Jacobs
“They will pay,” Lucinda muttered as soon as we were out of the women’s earshot. “My father has a great deal of influence in this town.”
“Who is he, the Mayor?” I asked.
“The banker,” Lucinda answered.
“Ah.”
We clip clopped through the streets of the town until we came to a prim house with a porch and a rocking chair, painted white and trimmed in green. It even had two glass windows.
Lucinda dismounted and stepped up onto the porch. I swung off Theo’s back and followed her. She raised her fist and gave a series of seven sharp raps in tune to the melody of “When a Big Black Bull Stole Benny’s Hat.”
Barely a second after she finished, the door flew open and a portly mustachioed man appeared in the frame. He had a thick head of wavy light gray hair, gray eyes the same thundercloud color as Lucinda’s, and his features were straight and square. He had probably been handsome in his youth.
As soon as he laid eyes on my slim redhaired companion, he let out an audible exhale and wrapped her in his arms. She laughed lightly and hugged him back.
“Hello, Father,” she said.
He took hold of her shoulders and held her out an arm’s length from him to look her up and down as if to ensure that she hadn’t been harmed. Or maybe to confirm that she really was his daughter. Or maybe to check whether she had grown any in the three days since he had last laid eyes on her. I had no idea really what kinds of thoughts went through parents’ heads when it came to their offspring. Well, I had some idea of what kinds of thoughts had gone through my particular parents’ heads on that subject, but their priorities weren’t exactly typical.
“You’re really back,” he said.
“Of course I am,” Lucinda said. “Didn’t I say I’d be back before the full moon? And didn’t I say I’d bring a savior for Richcreek with me?”
She gestured at me triumphantly.
“Halston Hale,” I said as I tipped my hat to her father.
“Edmond Fairfax. A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said gravely as he extended his hand to me. I hadn’t been sure if he’d want to shake considering that his hand appeared quite clean even under the fingernails, even the gold wedding band that he apparently still wore looked recently polished, and my hand was gloved in dust and adorned with callouses. But he did shake, without even wincing.
“Is he a… did he follow you here because… is Paul going to be pleased about this, Lucy?” he asked his daughter awkwardly.
“He’s a mercenary, Father,” Lucinda said. “And Paul ought to be pleased that the werewolves won’t be killing any other citizens of the town that is his job to protect.”
“Oh, I see,” Edmond said. His expression cleared. “Well, we’ll have to convene a meeting and sort out the fee, then. And I believe there was another, ah, candidate that Willie Hull brought back yesterday from the mining camp five miles downstream. Perhaps the two of them could split the fee?”
“My fee has already been established, sir,” I stated. “It is eight hundred gold pieces.”
Edmond’s gray eyes widened. He looked over at his daughter. She nodded. Edmond sighed and ran a hand through his wavy grayed mane. “Well, we’ll have to get the town leaders together,” he said. “I’ll send a boy to run about to the houses. Let’s meet at Quentin’s saloon.”
Lucinda and I went to stable the horses in the meantime. Theo was grateful to get out of the sun. Then we walked over to the saloon to await the convention of prominent townsfolk.
Quentin’s saloon was a bit bigger than Dex’s had been in Highridge, and there was a set of stairs leading to rooms for rent upstairs. Additionally, there were three girls lounging around the bar, too heavily primped and painted, bored, and predatory-looking to be customers. One was a tall brunette, another a curvaceous woman with hair dyed jet black, and the third a waifish slip of a blonde. The black-haired one leered at me, and the blonde waved her fingers shyly, but out of respect for Lucinda, who barely deigned to glance at them, they hung back and gave us our space.
Then the barkeep, a scrawny blond guy, caught sight of me and Lucinda.
“Lucinda Fairfax?” he exclaimed.
“Hi, Quentin,” she said. “Don’t look so surprised, as if you scarcely remember me. I haven’t been gone long.”
“Yes, but, well, we thought maybe you… left,” he stammered.
“For good?” she raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “But Quentin, I’m an engaged woman.”
“Precisely,” he grinned. “Meaning no offense, Luce. Glad you’re back. Who’s your friend?”
“I’m Halston Hale,” I said. “Mercenary.”
“Mercenary!” Quentin looked me up and down, including my sword, and let out a delighted guffaw. “Well, I’ll be damned. You really found one then Luce?”
“I found the one,” she answered. “He’s more dangerous than all the other worthless clods put together.”
“… Magic user?” Quentin guessed. Most of the elite mercenaries tended to be, although regardless, there were very few magical powers great enough that one could afford to lack skills in the swordfighting department.
“Yup,” I said. Luckily I had both.
“What’s your power?” Quentin asked curiously. “I heard of a fellow that could shoot fireballs from his hands once. And another that could wash away a person’s memories just by placing his hand on their forehead. Make it so they couldn’t recall so much as their own damn name.”
I suspected that those examples were both tall tales. It took sorcery to do things like that, not just natural ability. More likely the first fellow could strike a fire from damp wood and the second could induce a temporary drunken stupor by touch, something on that level.
“Quentin, the mayor, and my father, and my fiancé along with many other gentlemen of this town are about to arrive to discuss our plans with Mr. Hale to vanquish the werewolves,” Lucinda cut in sharply. She tilted her head toward the three powdered and rouged women stretching themselves along the other end of the bar like hungry cats.
“Upstairs,” Quentin said to the trio, and they sauntered off sulkily.
Soon after that, the members of this impromptu town council began arriving, and Quentin busied himself pouring drinks as the men and a few women crowded along the bar.
Edmond Fairfax immediately seated himself beside his daughter, and a heavyset bearded blond man wearing a sheriff’s silver star squeezed himself in between me and Lucinda on her other side.
“Lucy, how could you done and run off like that?” he demanded. His tone was plaintive rather than angry.
“The town required help, and apparently no one else was prepared to fetch it,” Lucinda replied unapologetically. She leaned in front of him to say to me, “Mr. Hale, this is Paul Alford-- my fiancé.”
“Pleasure,” he said to me sullenly.
“Mutual,” I said.
There were about a dozen people at the bar by then. They chattered amongst themselves. They generally looked a bit disgruntled. They snuck glances at me and stared at Lucinda with open disapproval. I got the feeling that she was, in some ways, the darling of the town, and in other ways, resented for that very status and the leeway that it seemed to afford her.
Then, a white haired man in a cream colored linen suit carrying an ivory-headed cane barged in the doors, and everyone sat up a bit straighter.
Lucinda stood and curtsied very prettily.
“Mayor Montague, this is Halston Hale, the mercenary I have hired to save us from the werewolves,” she announced.
I stood and extended my hand to the man. He had a weathered face, erect posture, and sharp dark eyes. His handshake was aggressively firm.
“I believe we already hired a mercenary, Ms. Fairfax,” he said as soon as he released my hand.
“Yeah, that’s right, I did,” a pudgy man with a necktie that was tied too tight spoke up. He pushed forward a lanky youth in his twenties.
“I believe we should consider other
options, Mayor Montague,” Lucinda replied calmly.
“Me and the old man can do it together,” the youth spoke up. He grinned and revealed his buck teeth.
“I have no objection to that,” I said. “Lucinda said you’re dealing with fourteen werewolves here. That isn’t a one-man job. I can make a plan and I can lead the charge. But this is going to be an all hands on deck effort.”
“And if I may be frank, what are your rates, Mr. Hale?” the mayor asked me.
“Lucinda and I have agreed upon eight hundred gold pieces for this job,” I answered.
A chorus of gasps rang down the bar.
I glanced at Lucinda. She was starting to look a little flustered.
“It’s not an unreasonable fee!” she insisted. “If we don’t get rid of the werewolves, Richcreek is doomed. It doesn’t matter if we break our backs mining for potencium every day for a decade, they’ll just steal all of it, and we’ll be reduced to paupers.”
“This is why you don’t send women to negotiate,” someone muttered. “Especially not idle ones. Eight hundred, what does that mean to her? She’s never worked a day in her life.”
“She just skipped town and came back with the best-looking stranger she could find,” another snickered.
“The sheriff will have his hands full with that one.”
Edmond Fairfax turned to glare in the direction of that particular group of commenters, and they fell quiet.
“Justify your price to me,” the mayor said as he looked me in the eye. He didn’t sound hostile, just stern.
“With the cooperation of the town, I will kill the werewolves for you,” I said.
“Of course,” the mayor said. “But that’s what every sellsword to show his face here claims he’ll do. How do we know you’re any different? What makes you any more likely to succeed?”
“I guess you won’t know ‘till after,” I replied. “If I’m not what I say I am, then it won’t cost you a cent. The werewolves don’t steal coin, from what I understand. So if I fail, you can just take the eight hundred off my corpse.”
“So you expect payment up front?” Mayor Montague raised a dark bushy eyebrow.
“I don’t just expect it, I require it.”
“You’re awfully confident in yourself,” Mayor Montague observed.
“I’ve never yet failed in a job,” I said. “Only twice, my clients got cold feet.”
“Did you refund them?”
“No, I had already made agreements with them and invested my time,” I said. “Is that a problem? Are you likely to decide that you do not, after all, wish to be rid of these monthly werewolf visitors? That you would miss them if they were gone?”
“I think I rather like your attitude,” the mayor chuckled. “But that does not seem enough justification to deplete the town’s coffers. Ms. Fairfax, we granted five hundred, of which a hundred has already been granted to Charlie here.”
“Five hundred?” Charlie yelped. “What d’you mean I could’ve had five hundred?”
“I can make up a hundred myself by the sale of some jewelry,” Lucinda said. “Others will have to donate the remaining two hundred. This man is our only hope, Mayor Montague. We can hardly afford to pinch pennies.”
“The remaining three hundred, you mean,” the mayor said. “Since one hundred of our budget has already been promised to Charlie.”
“But not yet paid, has it?” Lucinda inquired coolly as she glanced at the gawky youth. “I would advise the good townspeople to reconsider that offer, in light of the new prospect that I have brought.”
“The scam artist, you mean,” a man scoffed.
“What I really want to know is, what makes you special?” Mayor Montague asked me. “Are you an extraordinary swordsman? A powerful sorcerer? A Savajun-trained hunter of demonic beasts?”
“None of the above,” I said. “But I happen to be exceptionally good at killing things.”
“He’s a magic user,” Lucinda said.
“Are you now?” the mayor asked. “What kind?”
“I can enlarge things, and I can shrink them,” I said. I picked up Lucinda’s straw bonnet from where she had set it down on the bar and caused it to swell to the size of a bushel.
“Permanently?” Edmond Fairfax asked as he reached out warily to touch the oversized version of his daughter’s bonnet, as if to check whether it were real.
“No, only so long as I am touching them,” I replied. I removed my hand and the bonnet began to shrink back to its proper size.
“Can you shrink the werewolves to make them easier to kill?” Lucinda’s fiancé asked.
“No, it doesn’t work on living things,” I explained.
“Then it’s just a damn party trick, ain’t it?” someone grumbled.
“None of you saw him in Highridge,” Lucinda declared. “I did! I saw him kill seven bandits singlehandedly in defense of their town. If any of you had seen it too, then you wouldn’t question me for a second. But I can’t explain what makes Mr. Hale ‘special’ in one sentence, and he can’t either. Because there is no one ability or weapon that makes him what he is. It’s the sum of all the parts. His sword, his cunning, his bloody-mindedness, his magic, his talking horse--”
“Talking horse?” someone interrupted.
“Yes, his horse Theodosius,” Lucinda said. “He’s not a very nice horse, but-- ”
“What kind of sellsword can afford a talking horse?” the sheriff asked suspiciously, as if maybe he thought that I’d stolen Theo.
“A good one,” Lucinda said triumphantly.
“One who charges eight hundred gold coins every job,” someone else grumbled.
“You truly have a talking horse?” Mayor Montague inquired curiously.
“The truth is he rarely shuts up,” I said.
“Is this some kind of trick?” someone asked.
“Theodosius is stabled at my house,” Lucinda said. “We can go see him right now, if you’d like.”
I hadn’t realized that my horse was going to be so pivotal to their decision. Theo never even participated in my fights. He even disliked for any blood to splatter on his coat because he said it itched and attracted flies. He just carried me to and from my various engagements. But thankfully he was an extremely vain horse and probably wouldn’t mind being greeted with an eager audience.
With Lucinda gliding proudly ahead, the group of fifteen or so townsfolk including myself and Charlie trooped out of Quentin’s saloon and marched over to the Fairfax stable. I didn’t even have time to explain the situation to Theo and request for him to be polite before the townspeople crowded in around him.
“He’s beautiful!” a woman exclaimed.
“Say something,” the sheriff ordered him.
Theo cast him a disdainful look. Then he turned his magnificent black head toward me and demanded,
“What the hell am I, a monkey in a menagerie?”
Some of the townspeople gasped. A few of them clapped their hands.
“Haven’t you ever met a talking horse before?” Theo sneered. “What country bumpkins!”
“Meet Emperor Theodosius the first,” I said.
“What a strange man,” I heard a woman mutter. “I don’t know if he’s really the one we need, but he certainly is… extraordinary… ”
“I like the look of him more than Charlie,” her companion agreed.
Mayor Montague reached out cautiously and stroked Theo’s head. Theo closed his eyes and whickered in pleasure. He probably would have bitten him if I told him so, but he did communicate just like a normal horse sometimes.
“What does his horse have to do with his fighting abilities?” the sheriff asked grumpily.
“Do you think Theodosius would serve an ordinary man?” Lucinda retorted as she glared at her fiancé. He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t continue the argument either.
“Mr. Hale, Ms. Fairfax,” Mayor Montague announced, as he tapped his cane on the stable floor for emphasis, “I am prepared to exte
nd you an offer.”
Lucinda and I both looked at him expectantly.
“Five hundred gold pieces from the town coffer, as agreed,” he stated. “The rest will be your responsibility to make up, Ms. Fairfax, with the generosity of the good people. And, since you require your payment upfront before the job is done, Mr. Hale?”
“Yes?”
“We cannot take the risk that your striking confidence and your unusual abilities and equine companion are all just part of an elaborate ruse,” the mayor informed me. “We cannot take the risk that you will simply take the money and flee before the full moon. So, Ms. Fairfax, and Mr. Fairfax? If you are willing to vouch for this stranger, then your home must serve as collateral for his fee.”
Lucinda looked over at her father. He hesitated. He looked over at me, and I met his gaze and held it. After a minute he nodded.
“I accept those terms, Mayor,” he said as he reached out to shake Mayor Montague’s hand. “Mr. Hale-- don’t disappoint me.”
“Your house is safe,” I said. “Either I will exterminate the werewolves, or you can take the money back off my body after I die trying.”
He nodded. Lucinda smiled.
“What about me?” Charlie asked plaintively.
“Your contract has been cancelled,” Mayor Montague replied. “You are free to go or free to stay, but the werewolves are no longer your responsibility.”
“That’s not fair!” Charlie protested. “Just because he’s got a talking horse?”
“That seems like a perfectly sound reason to me,” Theo asserted. “I am quite amazing.”
“Charlie, I don’t know how long you’ve been in the sellsword business, but if I may offer a word of advice going forward?” I said.
“What?” the youth asked. He had his arms folded sulkily across his chest. He glanced around at the townspeople and none of them would meet his eyes, except Lucinda. She was the only one who hadn’t been part of the agreement to offer him the job in the first place, so she didn’t owe him anything and didn’t seem to have any sympathy for his disappointment.