As he accepted the week's pay from John Rider, Mike said, "It's been an interesting week. I won't say that I loved the job, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."
John said, "I've got to admit that I'm shocked that you stayed the week."
"I learned a lot this week," Mike replied dropping the coins into his money purse. Cat had told him to stay the week regardless of what happened. He wasn't sure why she had been so insistent, but he followed her instructions and made the best of the situation.
"Look me up the next time you're in the area," John said.
"I'll do that," Mike said. He gestured his head down the street and asked, "Would you like to join me for a meal at the Three Ducks Inn?"
"Sure," John said.
The pair of men headed down the street to where Mike had taken all of his dinners since arriving. As they walked, Mike kept an eye out for trouble. He spotted the two men who had attacked Badger in the Inn earlier that week. They were leaning up against the wall of businesses across from the Inn. They were separated from each other by about forty feet. Even though they had been disarmed only a week earlier, both men were armed with knives again. He noticed that one of them was intently following his progress down the street. Looking over at John, he said, "It looks like trouble."
"Are you talking about those two over there?" John asked after looking around the street. If he wasn't with a professional fighter, he would have been worried about them. As it was, he was pretty sure that Mike could take care of them both. After all, he knew that Mike had taken out one of the men with a single blow only a week earlier.
"Yes," Mike answered. He ran his hand along his belt double checking that the two knives were where they were supposed to be.
"I heard they were after Carl," John said. He looked over at Mike and said, "They are of the opinion that two men armed with knives can deal with a one armed man carrying a sword."
"I wouldn't make that bet," Mike said noticing the two men shifting their stances. He stopped and said, "Let's wait here for a moment."
"Why?" John asked looking over at Mike.
Mike answered, "To see what they do."
"Huh?" John said looking around. The two men were still up the street a ways.
"I want to see what they do," Mike answered.
"Are you afraid they'll attack you?" John asked wondering what kind of fighter Mike was if he wasn't willing to fight the two guys.
"Sure," Mike answered. He noticed the two men up the street looking at each other. It was obvious to him that he had upset their plans. If he had walked up the street, they could have boxed him in between them.
"What are you worried about? You beat one of those guys the other day with a single punch," John said.
Mike nodded his head and said, "That's right. He wasn't looking at me when I attacked him. I had control of the situation before I even touched him and I kept control of the situation until he was unconscious. Now he's looking to fight me on his terms. That's not going to happen."
"Oh," John said looking over at Mike thinking that the guy wasn't nearly as tough as Carl had described him.
John glanced over at Mike and said, "You don't win fights by letting the other guy dictate the time and place of the engagement. Fighting when they want to fight you is a good way to get killed."
"I didn't think about that," John said.
Mike watched the two guys move close to each other and start talking. It was pretty obvious to him that his sudden stopping had ruined their plans. Now they were trying to decide what to do about it. Shaking his head, he said, "They've got one style of attack. One guy gets in front of their victim and the other one gets behind them. While the one in front distracts the victim, the other one attacks from the rear. They end up with one dead victim."
"You saw all that from here?" John asked.
"I saw that when they attacked Badger. They weren't quite so obvious about it that time," Mike answered. He watched the pair of men turn to walk off. He said, "Let's get some dinner."
A little disappointed by the confrontation, or more accurately the lack of a confrontation, John walked beside Mike silent for a moment. He asked, "Aren't you worried about them thinking you are a coward?"
"Not really. If they really wanted to fight me, they would have come this way rather than walk away. They were the ones who decided not to fight," Mike answered shrugging his shoulders. He figured they would be around the barn in the middle of the night expecting to catch him asleep.
"I guess," John said. It may not have been the bravest thing he'd seen anyone do, but he had to admit that it was the smartest.
In the dark of the night, Mike watched the two figures slip into the barn. He shifted his grip on the pitchfork knowing that one or two men were not going to be very happy in a few minutes. Each man was carrying a club and he didn't doubt that they intended to let him feel the business end of that weapon.
He'd seen young punks who thought they were tough doing the same kinds of things on Earth. They'd get it into their head that someone was responsible for their problems and that it was up to them to make the poor sap pay. That kind of attitude usually brought the person more trouble than it solved. The punk usually ended up in jail. The unfortunate sap usually ended up in the hospital or the morgue.
Mike wasn't too keen on the idea of turning into a sap. He had given them the chance to walk away once, but he wasn't going to do it a second time. They approached the haystack and, in the dark, they could just make out a figure under a blanket. Each man lifted his club and crept up to the haystack.
Careful not to make a sound, Mike waited to make his move until after they started to beat on what they thought was his body. One of the tines of the pitchfork took the shorter guy in the kidney. His shouts of glee suddenly cut off and he went down with barely a sound.
Wondering about the sudden quiet beside him, the taller guy was turning when the pitchfork got him in the side. Mike pulled out the pitchfork and watched the tall guy drop his club even as he collapsed to his knees. Making sure that the tall man was no longer a threat, he hit him on his head. They tall guy slumped to the ground. Mike kicked their clubs away.
Mike looked down at the pair of dark shapes on the floor and said, "Sorry about that, boys, but I've got a feeling those are terminal wounds."
Neither man answered. Neither one would answer any question ever again. Mike dragged the shorter man out of the barn and over to the manure pile. He went back and dragged the taller one out. The taller one groaned once, but that was about it.
Mike wondered if the taller man would crawl off before morning. He searched their bodies and removed their money purses and weapons. Holding up the money purses, he said, "I wonder where you got these."
Tired, Mike went back in the barn and crawled under his blanket. As he settled into his makeshift bed, he realized that he'd miss sleeping on the haystack when he left to rescue the Damsel. The ground would be hard. Considering the late hour and the fact that he had worked all day, he fell asleep without a problem.
John entered the barn to take the horses out to the corral. He had finished filling the water trough with water. He stopped and looked at the figure sprawled out atop the haystack at the back of the barn. Surprised to see that Mike was still there, John shouted, "Wake up."
Mike sat up and looked around. It was nearly an hour after sunrise. He ran a hand over his face feeling the rough beard that had grown over the past week. He stretched with a groan and said, "I guess I overslept."
"I thought you were gone," John said.
Mike shook his head and said, "I had some uninvited guests last night. It was late before I got to sleep."
"Uninvited guests?" John asked.
Mike climbed off the haystack and said, "I guess I better take care of the bodies."
"Bodies?" John asked.
"Yeah. I left them out by the manure pile," Mike answered. He went out back expecting to only find one of the men there.
John followed him out of the barn. On reaching the manure pile, he stopped and stared at the two bodies. He recognized them without a problem. They were the guys who had been waiting for them the previous evening. Swallowing heavily, he asked, "Did they hurt you?"
"No," Mike answered. He knelt down and double-checked the bodies. He found a knife stuck in the boot of one of the men. He took it and slid it into his boot.
Opening the money purses he had taken the previous evening, he was surprised to find that each man had several shells. Shaking his head, he said, "They must have mugged someone. They had too much money on them."
"I heard that Sam over at the general store was mugged the other night," John said looking down at the bodies. Sam was still seeing double from the blow to his head.
"What am I supposed to do with their bodies?" Mike asked. He was willing to leave them there, but didn't think that would be a nice thing to do to John.
"As far as I know, they don't have any family in the area. Leave me a shell and I'll hire a guy to take care of them," John said. The guy would probably just drag the bodies out of town a ways and dump them.
Mike fished a shell from the money purse and tossed it over to John. He sighed and said, "Well, I'll wash up and help you water the horses."
"I've already done that," John said.
"Oh. I guess I ought to be getting over to the market and getting supplies to leave," Mike said looking around. It was a lot later than he had anticipated.
"Okay," John said looking down at the two bodies and then over at Mike. Mike didn't have a scratch on him. He realized what Mike had meant about dealing with bad guys on his terms.
Looking over at John, Mike said, "It's been a pleasure knowing you."
"Same here. Come back any time," John said.
Mike went over to the general store and traded one of the knives he had taken from his attackers for a backpack, cooking gear, a fire kit, blanket, a large piece of leather, and three boxes of candles. He didn't really need the candles, but had included them in the trade for use at the market.
As he was packing his purchases into his backpack, he looked over at the store owner. The raccoon bruises around the man's eyes reminded him of what John had told him about the owner of the general store having gotten attacked. He commented, "The guys that mugged you are dead."
Touching the bandage wrapped around his head, Sam looked over at Mike and asked, "How do you know?"
"I killed them last night," Mike answered.
"How do you know it was them?" Sam asked.
"John Rider told me that you had been mugged. The guys that attacked me had too much money on them. We figured they were the ones who attacked you," Mike answered as he put the boxes of candles into the backpack. They were near the top so that he could trade them for food over at the market.
Sam relaxed a bit more upon hearing that this rough looking man knew John Rider. He said, "I'm glad you took care of them. Carl tries to keep an eye out for bad folks, but too many people are coming through town for it to be safe. We get a dozen strangers every week."
"It must be good for business," Mike commented.
"True, but I'd rather sacrifice a little of that business to be a lot safer," Sam said. He ran a hand over his bandage. His eyes focused on something in the distance and then shook his head. He said, "I guess that safety is an illusion. I used to think that I was safe, but I wasn't. Those damned slavers came into town one day and turned my life upside down. One day I'm a farmer just getting by and the next day I'm being bought and sold like a chicken at the market."
"It must have been tough getting your life back together," Mike said.
Sam said, "I rode for a bit with King Sid after he freed me. He gave me the money to start this place. I've done alright since then."
"I've met King Sid. He's a good man," Mike said.
"That he is," Sam said in complete agreement. King Sid could have just sent him on his way with just a pat on the back and a farewell. He'd done more than that. He had given him a little bonus with which he could start his life over.
Closing his backpack, Mike said, "Well, I hope your head is better. At least you don't have to worry about those two mugging you again."
Sam grabbed a couple of honey candies and tossed them onto the counter. Sam said, "Take some of that with you. The ladies love them."
"Thanks," Mike said. He picked up the four pieces of candy and added them to his backpack. He slipped the straps over his shoulder and waved goodbye to the man behind the counter. Mike stepped out of the store and noticed that the wind had shifted again. It was blowing directly from the tannery. He shook his head and said, "It'll be good to get away from here."
After spending an hour trading candles for food at that market, Mike headed out of town. As he walked, he took the time to examine his surroundings. Trees and brush lined the road. The road ran through the length of a valley. The valley was nestled between two long low mountains. Streams ran down from the mountains to a small river than wound through the center of the valley. Mike thought the landscape was very nice and it reminded him of the Shenandoah Valley.
The trees parted to show a small farmstead. A farmer was pulling a plow with his young son behind holding the plow to the ground. He noticed that the blade of the plow wasn't even made of metal. The farmer and the son stopped work to stare at him. Realizing that his presence was making them nervous, he continued down the road thinking over what he had seen. It was so easy to fail to realize just how much work it was to run a farm back in medieval times. The only labor saving device was a hired hand.
The road was wide and in very good condition. It was easy to see that a lot of work had been spent on getting the road into shape. There was even a drainage ditch along the sides of the road. The surface had been leveled and crushed stone put down. He suspected that below the crushed gravel he'd find that the surface had been prepared with larger rocks or maybe even wood. Without a proper base on the road, wagon wheels would have torn up the road by now.
It was a nice warm day and he was surrounded by the sounds of a living world. He paused for a moment to listen to the birds. A number of birds had unusual calls that he had never heard on Earth. He noticed one large brown bird that reminded him of a crow. It made a sound a lot like a crow, but the color was all wrong. It was just another reminder that he wasn't on Earth.
Occasionally Mike would hear the crash of some animal moving through the brush by the side of the road. It was difficult to explain how he knew, but he had learned during his time in the army the difference in sounds between a person and an animal moving through brush. He paused to watch a rabbit hop away. Shaking his head, he said, "You won't see that back in the city."
Mike walked along thinking about his fight the previous night. He might have appeared to some to be rather aloof about the matter, but he wasn't. It bothered him a lot that he had killed the two men. He might have been able to get away with wounding them, but that would have just made it that much more dangerous for him.
They weren't the first men that he had killed. That was one aspect of war, even an undeclared war, that people didn't talk about. He suspected that if he continued to come to Chaos that they wouldn't be the last men to die at his hands. He didn't know how he felt about that.
Around noon, he stopped by a stream and ate some of the sausage and cheese that he had gotten in the market. It was a nice little stream and he thought about how nice it would be to settle down next to it. He imagined returning from work to a nice little cottage with Kat inside. He tried to picture what he would do to earn a living here. His first thought was of being a farmer, but thinking back to the man pulling the plow changed his mind on that career real quick.
He thought about Carl and the work involved in being the King's Representative in a small town. It was a dangerous way to make a living. In a way, it was a lot like being a cop but without the legal and social protections. If some bad guy killed Carl, Mike didn't think that every representative of the king would be out hunting the killer. He had never asked Carl what kind of support from the King he received.
Finished with his cheese and sausage, Mike stood up and continued his journey. He had a day and a half hike to the cave where they were keeping the Damsel. One of the problems with walking alone like that was that his mind tended to dwell on things. He kept thinking back to his midnight visitors and what he had done to them. After a couple of hours, he said, "Damn them. They came in there to kill me."
None of the wildlife in the area bothered to answer him. It did quiet down for a few minutes after his outburst, but the forest didn't have a long memory. The birds resumed singing after a minute. Mike continued on his way putting one foot in front of the other.
Mike paused to look at a decrepit old house a short distance from the road. It looked like no one had lived in it for years. The leather hinge of the front door had rotted and the door hung askew. The land around the house hadn't been worked in years. Grass grew wild and the fruit trees were twisted with neglect. There was the bare trace of what had once been a path from the road to the front door.
It was nearing dark when Mike reached the small town. He had known that he was getting close when he started to see little farms along the road again. Everyone watched him walk past. Mike noticed that the looks were intense, but at least they weren't the glares of men wanting to do him harm. They didn't trust him and weren't going to let him catch them unawares.
The small town inn had a sign with a picture of a fox on it. Someone in the area must have had some artistic talent because the fox really looked like a fox. Most of the signs that Mike had seen so far required someone to explain what was being represented on it. He went in the door and looked around the room. Two men were seated at one of the tables sharing a pitcher of watered wine.
He went over to the owner who was standing behind the counter. He asked, "How much for a room and meal?"
"One Quad three pinches," the owner answered.
"One Quad three pinches?" Mike asked. He figured that the room would have been one Quad in this small town and the meal would have been one pinch.
"I got a real bed," the owner said looking over at Mike.
Nodding his head, Mike asked, "You got a bath?"
"There is the creek out back. The whole town uses it. It is a little cool, but refreshing on a day like to day," the owner answered.
"Ah," Mike replied.
"No leeches," the owner added.
Mike hadn't even considered that. Nodding his head, he said, "It sounds good enough for me."
"Can't use it tonight," the owner said realizing that Mike intended to go out there immediately.
"Why not?" Mike asked.
"Women's night," the owner said. Seeing the blank expression on Mike's face, he added, "You go out there tonight and some husband is liable to run you through with a spear."
"Oh," Mike said.
The owner nodded his head and said, "Folks around here like to be clean. Most of us take a dip in the stream twice a week."
"That often," Mike said. He hadn't really given the matter of hygiene much thought. In town he had washed using water from the well.
"That's right. Some of us got into that habit when we were part of King Sid's army. He insisted that we stay clean to fight off disease. I don't know if it really works, but I haven't been sick since we started to do that," the owner said.
"I'm a strong believer in bathing," Mike said.
"Good for you," the owner said. He looked at Mike and asked, "So are you staying the night?"
Mike fished the appropriate coins out of his coin purse and set them on the counter. He asked, "What's the meal?"
"It's still cooking. You'll have your choice of fish stew or roasted fowl," the owner answered.
"I guess I'll go with the roasted fowl," Mike said. He didn't know if he'd trust a fish stew.
"Your loss," the owner said with a shrug of his shoulders. He felt that his wife made the best fish stew in the entire area. He gestured to a door and said, "That's your room over there."
"Okay," Mike said. He went over to the room and looked it over. By the standards of Chaos, there was a real bed in the corner. He put his pack on the floor at the foot of the bed and returned to the main room. After picking up a pitcher of watered wine, he took a seat in the corner of the room.
After about an hour, the owner called him over to let him know that the meal was ready. Mike picked it up and returned to his seat. He had just started to eat when a woman came in and looked around the room. Her eyes lit up when she spotted him. She walked over to him and said, "You can have me for the night for just one quad."
"No thanks," Mike said. He had heard some of the prices that a prostitute could command and a quad for one night was pretty low. He wondered if she had some kind of disease.
"Mister, I'll do anything," she said with a slight pleading voice to her voice.
"No thanks," Mike said.
Disheartened, she sat down at one of the tables. She had a drawn haggard look on her face. One of the two men at the table near his said, "I see that she decided to work tonight."
"It looks like it," the other man answered.
Picking up a small bundle, the first man said, "I brought six eggs and a hunk of meat. Let's see if that's enough tonight."
"You give her too much. I'm planning on offering her a loaf of bread and a couple of apples," the other man said with a laugh.
"She just might get to eat tonight," the first man said.
The second man nodded his head and said, "She'll eat better tonight than we did when her husband owned us."
"You can say that again," the first man said rising from his bench.