Chapter 28
Most of the businesses had been abandoned in the small village located at the crossroads of two minor roads. There was a market that looked like it hadn't seen a trade in months. Slaves didn't go to the market, while slave owners brought in goods by the wagonload from larger towns. An abandoned building that might have been a hardware store faced the street with a door that hung loose on its lower hinge made of leather. A stable with a single worn out horse in the corral occupied the other corner. There was only one business that looked like it was doing well and that was a tavern.
Sid stopped and looked up at the sign with a picture of three sheaves of wheat. He decided that it was a universal law that taverns did well in the best of times and the worst of times. He recalled reading about a silver town in the old west that was abandoned and the last place to close was the saloon. He turned to Fred and said, "This appears to be the place."
"I'll go in with you," Fred said getting ready to dismount.
"No. I want you to go back to the troops and let them know that I'll be here a while," Sid said twisting around on his saddle to look over at Fred. He shifted the reins of the horse he was leading to his other hand.
Frowning, Fred said, "I'm your sworn man. Don't make me choose between following your order and protecting you."
"I don't need protection," Sid said not wanting to go through this discussion again.
"I'll go in and have a drink while you are taking care of things. I promise that I'll ride and get some troops if something happens that you and I can't handle," Fred said.
Deciding that was as good of a deal as he was likely to get, Sid said, "Okay."
The two men tied up the three horses before entering the tavern. The low door required Sid to bend down to avoid hitting his head. He was going to have to remember that if he needed to make a hasty retreat. Inside, he was presented with a typical low-end tavern complete with dirt floors, tables that were more likely to give you a splinter than support your weight, and chairs that were big logs cut to height.
The man at the bar looked over his visitors and decided that they, like most strangers, were trouble. They weren't wearing the uniforms of the slaver army and they didn't look like an overseer. He reached under the bar and put his hand on the club he kept there. Deciding there were better ways of handling them, he put his hands on the bar. Attempting to sound friendly, he asked, "What brings you men out here?"
"Passing through," Sid answered looking around the public room. There were a couple of rooms off the back end of the public room.
"So what can I do for you?"
Sid wandered over to the bar and said, "Well, a little watered wine for my friend and me would be a good start."
When the man didn't move to pour a watered wine, Sid pulled out a quad from his coin purse and tossed it on the bar. The coin attracted the man's attention. His hand flicked out and the coin disappeared. Turning his back to Sid, he poured a pitcher of watered wine. After setting the pitcher on the counter, he put two pewter tankards next to it. Smiling, he said, "There you go."
Sid picked up the pitcher and filled one of the tankards with some of the watered wine. He slid the tankard across the bar and said, "Drink."
The smile disappeared from the barmen's face. He looked down at the tankard and then up at Sid. With a much weaker smile on his face, he said, "I don't drink."
Sid pulled out his sword and put the point to the man's throat. In a hard voice, he said, "You do now."
Swallowing heavily, the barman picked up the tankard. It slipped out of his fingers and fell to the floor. In a nervous voice, he said, "It slipped."
"There's another tankard here. Fill it and have a drink," Sid said without taking his eyes off the man.
Without looking away from Sid's eyes, the barman reached for the pitcher and knocked it over. Watered wine flowed across the counter and dripped to the floor. He smiled and said, "Clumsy me."
Sid said, "Fred, would you mind going behind the bar and fixing this man a tankard of watered wine out of the leftmost barrel?"
"I'd love to do that," Fred answered while making his way to the bar.
The barman grabbed the club under the bar. Before he could get it out, Sid had hit him atop his head with the flat of his sword. It was not a gentle blow. The barman crumpled to the floor. Sid climbed over the bar and squatted next to the barman. Looking up at Fred, he said, "I would say this man definitely didn't want to drink his own wine. You'd almost think it was drugged or something."
"I can see where a suspicious man would think that," Fred agreed with a smile.
Sid tied up the man and propped him up against the wall. Rising from his place on the floor, he said, "Let me check the rooms."
"I'll watch him," Fred said while pouring a tankard of watered wine from the suspect cask.
"What's that for?"
"In case he wants something to drink when he wakes up," Fred answered with a smile. He wiped down the bar before taking a seat on it where he could watch the barman in comfort.
Sid went to the doors in the back of the tavern. He opened the first and saw that it was empty. He went to the second one and opened it. It too was empty. This was not a good sign. The third door opened onto some stairs that went up to the second floor. Frowning, he followed the stairs to the room at the top. This room was not empty, but there wasn't any one in the room. This was clearly the living quarters of the barman.
Sid searched the room but didn't find what he was seeking. Disgusted, he went down the stairs and said, "She's not here."
Fred looked over from his perch on the bar and said, "I guess we'll have to wait here until this fellow wakes up."
"I didn't hit him that hard," Sid said wondering why the man was still unconscious.
"I've got an idea," Fred said eyeing the man on the floor.
"What?"
"How about I open the taps on all of these kegs here until he comes to?"
Smiling at Fred, Sid said, "That sounds like a wonderful idea to me."
There was a low growl from the man on the floor. The barman said, "I'm awake."
Sid walked behind the bar and looked down at the man. A full minute went by before he said, "Fred, why don't you go fetch Gregor?"
"Gregor?" Fred asked surprised by the request.
With a grin that no man ever wanted to see given in his direction, Sid said, "Yes. Gregor was sold into slavery by a barman who drugged his wine. I have a feeling that he'd just love to talk to our friend here."
"You're probably right."
"I bet that Gregor could get answers to any question that we might want answered."
The barman groaned and then said, "I'll answer your questions."
"Where's Alice?"
The temptation to deny that he knew anyone by the name of Alice was almost too much. One look at Sid's face convinced the man that the time for games was over. He answered, "I sold her to Curtis. He took her down to the Yellow Onion in the town two days east of here."
"Why did you sell her?" Sid asked curious about the reasons why the man would get rid of a Damsel. Even though he had no idea what the woman looked like, he knew that she had to be attractive. He said, "She's a pretty woman."
"She was very pretty, but she was a burner," the man answered.
"What's that?" Sid asked. He'd never heard the term.
"Some women have private parts that will burn the cock right off a man. The only way you can fuck them is with a sheath. With a woman that pretty, a lot of men will put up with wearing a sheath. Of course, out here men aren't all that particular about the looks of the woman. They're in it for the action and the sheath kind of kills that," the barman answered. He wondered how it was that Sid didn't know about burners.
Sid said, "It won't really burn the cock off of the man."
"No, but it sure feels like it. It took two days to put out the fire after I first experienced her," the barman said with a frown.
"You say that she's at the Yellow Onion in the town two days east of here," Sid said.
"That's right."
Shaking his head, Sid said, "That leaves me with a problem, Fred."
Looking at his fingernails as if he had discovered something very interesting on them, Fred asked, "What kind of problem, Sid?"
"Well, if I go running down to the Yellow Onion then this fellow here has four days to run away. It would be really hard to track him down if he was lying to me," Sid said. He scratched his chin as if deep in thought.
"I can see where that would be a problem. What do you propose to do about it?"
"I suppose that I could leave a hundred men here to watch over him," Sid said watching the expression on the man's face change.
The man croaked out, "A hundred men?"
"That's not a bad idea," Fred said examining the fingernails of his other hand. He looked up at Sid and asked, "Who would you leave in charge of that many men?"
"I suppose there's only one choice," Sid answered.
"Who?"
"Gregor," Sid answered with a smile. The barman paled upon hearing the answer.
"I'll go get him," Fred said getting up from the bar. When he reached the door, he said, "I'll be back in ten minutes. I'm pretty sure that Gregor will be here in five."
The barman leaned against the wall considering his fate. He was pretty sure that he was going to be dead soon. Looking up at Sid, the pieces started falling into place. When he realized the identity of the man standing over him, he said, "You're General Sid, aren't you?"
"That's right," Sid said.
"Who is Gregor?"
"He's one of the leaders of the Rider Clan," Sid answered.
The barman felt like he was going to be sick. If it was true that someone had drugged a leader of the Rider Clan, then he was in serious trouble. The Rider Clan was big on honor and had a tendency to react negatively when someone did something that they viewed as being dishonorable. He groaned and said, "I'm dead, aren't I?"
"Have you been lying to me?"
"No, sir," the barman said with wide eyes.
"That's good. You see, if I'm all upset because you lied to me when I get back from my visit to the Yellow Onion, I can assure you that you will be a lot more upset than me," Sid said.
The door of the tavern banged open and Gregor's voice rang out through the room, "Where's the skunk who tried to drug you?"
Sid leaned over and patted the barman on the cheek. With a malicious smile, he said, "I do believe he is talking about you. You know, I think you are in for a couple of days of fun."
"Shit."
The group of ten men entered the Yellow Onion. Nine of them settled down at one of the tables while one member of their group went to the barkeep. The lone man said, "Two large pitchers of your best watered wine and a dozen tankards."
The barkeep, a man who knew his business, had started to fill a pitcher while the order was being placed. It took him ten seconds to pour the two pitchers. After setting them on the bar, he started to set out the tankards. He looked over at the table and said, "There're only ten of you."
"Two more are coming here," the man answered. He put a shell on the counter and said, "This will pay for the next few pitchers as well."
"Right," the barkeep said eyeing the glass coin. That much money would keep that group in watered wine for the entire evening.
The man looked around the room and spotted four men at another table. He said, "I see a couple of men in here wearing uniforms. I didn't realize that there was a fort out here."
"There isn't. They just finished putting down the slaves on the Scrim's place. There was a rumor that those bastards trying to get rid of slavery were in the area. They had to kill every slave on the place," the barkeep said.
"I'm sure the Scrims were not all that happy to see their investment die off like that."
"They weren't around to mind. The slaves killed them and all but one of the overseers," the barkeep said with a shrug of his shoulders. That was one of the hazards of owning slaves. Most owners did their best to make sure that the troublemakers never had a chance to create any trouble. As far as he was concerned, the Scrims had been inattentive to their business.
"Well, let me get these drinks over to our table," the man said picking up the two pitchers. The barkeep picked up the coin and went over to his cash box. That single coin doubled the amount of money in the box.
Sid, followed by Fred, entered the room and went over to the barkeep. Once there, he said, "I heard that you have a girl here by the name of Alice."
"She's one of the whores upstairs. You want her for an hour?"
Sid shook his head and said, "I'm here to free her."
The barkeep laughed and said, "That's a funny one."
There wasn't a smile on Sid's face when he said, "I wasn't being funny."
The barkeep shouted, "Hey guys, this fellow thinks he's going to free one of my whores."
The four soldiers started to rise from their seats, but the sudden presence of swords pressed against their necks changed their minds. They slowly sat down deciding that caution was the better part of valor. One of the men holding a sword against the neck of a soldier said, "I didn't see their Captain. I have to assume that he's upstairs."
The barkeep looked at Sid and said, "You've got to be crazy. There're a hundred soldiers in town."
"Not anymore. You see, my army just liberated this area," Sid said.
"Holland rules here," the barkeep said unable to believe that the way of life he had grown accustomed to living had come to an end.
"Holland is dead."
"What? Holland is dead!" the barkeep shouted.
There was the sound of someone bumping into something from above and then a door burst open. A man wearing only pants stepped out and shouted, "What's this about Holland being dead?"
Fred stepped back and looked up at the man at the top of the stairs. He answered, "Holland is dead. He was hung last week."
The Captain ran down the stairs with a worried expression on his face. This was not the kind of news that he wanted to receive. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, his concerns quickly changed to the sword that was at his throat. Stammering, he asked, "What's going on?"
Sid nodded his head in the direction of the Captain and answered, "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Sid Jones and my army has just liberated this town along with the farms in the general area."
There was a thump when the barkeep hit the ground in a faint. Sid looked down and said, "I don't think he's having a good day."
"He's not the only one," the Captain said with a frown. He didn't even have his sword with him. In his excitement at the news, he had raced downstairs without it.
Laughing at the comment, Sid went over to the stairs and climbed to the top. There were six doors; three on each side of the hallway. He entered the first room on the right and found a naked woman seated on her bed. She looked over at him with dead eyes and sighed. She asked, "How long did you pay for?"
"I didn't pay," Sid answered.
Resigned to entertaining one of the friends of the barkeep, she fell back on the bed with her arms out and spread her legs. In a bored voice, she said, "Have at it."
"I have a better suggestion," Sid said.
"What?" she asked dreading the answer. She hoped that this guy wasn't into anal sex.
"I suggest that you dress yourself and go downstairs. One of my men will remove the collar," Sid answered.
Unable to believe what she was hearing, she asked, "What do you mean?"
"I mean that you're free," Sid said with a soft smile. The expressions that flashed across her face ranged from disbelief to fear and then to relief. Finally, the woman leapt up and grabbed the sheet from the bed. Wrapping it around her body, she dashed out the door.
The conversation was repeated four more times as Sid went from room to room. At the sixth door, Sid could tell that the woman inside was a Damsel. She had an amazing blend of Asian and African features. Smiling, he said, "Hello, Alice."
"I have to warn you that I'm a burner. You'll need to wear a sheath if you want me," Alice said dreading another session.
"No I won't," Sid said.
Tears started to well up in her eyes. Pleading, she said, "You have to wear one."
"I'm here to take you back to Cassandra," Sid said.
"Cassandra?" she asked with wide eyes. She glanced down at his crotch and asked, "Are you from Earth?"
"Yes I am, my Damsel."
The answer nearly brought her to orgasm. Not once in the months of servicing men of Chaos had she even come close to having an orgasm. It seemed as if once a week some man would not believe that he needed to use a sheath and she'd have problems for days. Even with a sheath, the men of Chaos didn't satisfy. She asked, "Are you going to accept my reward?"
"Yes," Sid said.
Tears running from her eyes, Alice said, "Thank you."