“Okay we’re in.” Jen said discreetly as Clara smiled. “So what do you mean by take this whole place down?”

  “Oh you’ll see. We just need a distraction and the guards to flock in here and away from the stables where the guns are. Give me your locker key, we’ll bring you your guns when we return.” She insisted.

  “I’m trusting you with my life and the lives of my friends here.” Jen said darkly. “If you stab me in the back or hurt them, I will absolutely have no problem switching sides to burn your world to the ground, do you understand?” she said with a stare of vengeance.

  “I think we’re gonna be good friends real soon. That is assuming neither of us die in the next few hours. Keep that spark going. And here’s a little tip from a pro…if you’re gonna juice wolf venom, Amaranthine Tea in a dropper for the eyes takes the yellow out. You looked right into mine and didn’t even notice. See you soon kid, distract prima and the guards, we’ll be waiting.”

  The group sat in their chairs as some of the items began going in the middle for display for the main auction. Hudson moved his eye back and forth between the lovely blue and ivory tusk sword on table 5, and Buchanan, who seemed to always be glancing back as if he could feel the eyes. The saber made it’s way to the table, as well as a dozen smaller but large knives and some raw tusk slivers. Hudson readied his draw-hand, a wooden paddle where he wished a gun was, and he lifted the paddle to interrupt the man speaking.

  “Hundred dollars.” He said casually.

  “One thousand dollars.” Replied the fat man in the coat as if the offer was insulting to even suggest.

  “Thousand and one.” Hud grinned.

  “You don’t have that kind of money.” Prima reminded.

  “Only live once and not much past my age, I always wanted a blade like that, I plan to get me one before I die. You want my good side and cooperation, take the rest out of my debt, I got 800 in savings. I’ll earn the rest.”

  “Twelve hundred, and I can pay right now.” The fat man sighed.

  “2 grand, and I work for free until it’s paid off. Carol owes me a favor, I bet she;s got something worth that money.” Hud smiled. The fat man scoffed with a snort and backed down, the bid going to Hudson. He got up, nodding his hat and strutting past the fancy fuckers looking at him like Trash as Carol played along and followed. Prima looked clearly suspicious as he watched Hudson approach the table, lightly opening his coat to draw faster if necessary. Hudson picked up one of the large tusk knives and inspected it for sharpness, grabbing Carol by the hair and holding the blade to her neck.

  “Hudson you predictable son of a bitch.” Prima sighed, drawing his strange black pistol, scoped and missing all resemblance of a large cylinder full of shells.

  “Oh you best not draw that or she’s dead. This little lady has information you want and that fancy leg everyone is talking about. Now She might be more valuable alive, and so is the other girl, but I know you plan to kill my troublesome ass when the deals are struck. Don’t work well for me. I prefer to keep my insurance handy, so go on, shoot through her to kill me or see if I can slit her throat before you can palm that fancy air gun.” He said, backing away with his hostage. Tom slowly crept up grabbed one of the swords from the display, swinging it in Hudson’s direction.

  “Hud, we promised to protect these girls.” He said pointing the sword.

  “Yea we did, to stay alive. We don’t mean shit. You and I got no titanium leg, no future knowledge, no value, when Prima has the girls, we die, boy. You wanna survive, you follow me. Prima, you got 5 seconds to toss that pistol BY THE BARREL at my feet, or you can kiss your future weapons tech goodbye and I’ll take her head off.”

  Prima slowly opened his coat and lifted the pistol by the barrel, tossing it with reluctance on the ground and cringing at the sound of it landing.

  “Now Hudson…you know you’re never leaving here with that woman hostage, especially now that everyone knows who she is and wants you dead.

  “Yea but I got you to confirm your dastardly plans. You gonna kill her in front of everyone for that leg.”

  “How insulting!” Prima said descending the stairs and approaching as he backed further away, the middle row of the crowd parting further back. “I offered her protection and safety from several of the men in this very room, in exchange for knowledge and partnership, which she agreed upon. I offered to hire you for your services and had no plan to kill you, until right now when you double crossed our deal. I am a man of honor and integrity, and I will NOT be slandered in my own house. Men like you are WHY she requires protection. You WILL be hunted, Hudson Galloway, for the hostage you have taken, not the imaginary betrayal I have not committed. I could have shot you, restrained the girl and collected that leg, but I would never dream of risking a woman’s life on the speed of your betrayal.”

  “Well since your men plan to hunt me…” he said slowly picking up the gun as he pulled Carol down, knife to neck. “Your men best be tossin their pistols. I bet you got another one handy too. You lie, she dies.”

  “Wait!” Prima frantically waved. “I have a spare pistol, but my men are not armed. I have a steam whistle alarm to alert the guards outside who are very much armed to the teeth with rifles, but the only guns in this house, are at your feet, and right here.” He said, tossing the second gun.

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes. You Sir, have the only guns in the building, and the moment you leave, you will be surrounded by men with guns. Shall I call them in, or let them wait for you, because the moment they find you, you are a dead man.”

  “Bullshit. Call em in. Go on. Prove you got em.” He bluffed, prima signaled to the guard, and the steam whistle blew.

  Buck Renich stepped outside, smoking his pipe as the armed men from the stables made their way out of the stables and towards the house. He patiently watched, smiling.

  Tom stepped closer, circling around as Hudson backed to the balcony. He closed the doors and switched from gun to knife, placing the gun to carol’s head and jamming the knife in the door handles to lock them shut.

  “He’ll never get out that way with a hostage in tow.” Sighed Prima, Tom’s sword suddenly stopping at his neck.

  “He might if the hostage helps.” Tom smirked.

  “Ah, yes, the blind bodyguard. Part of the plan? Let Hudson escape with the girl and kill me? What then? My guards circle back and kill you? You have no escape plan.” He said grabbing a sword off the table and parrying the blade away, striking a pose and readying a duel. “You think I can’t defend myself without a pistol, you fool. You have not unarmed the room, Tom, you have merely de-gunned the room.” He boasted as several of his men readied swords from the wall displays.

  “Prima, you may be book smart but you’re dumber than shit if you think my plan is to die here. You ain’t the only one good with a sword. I can’t shoot shit in an outhouse from 12 feet, but you gotta be close enough to see to use that sharpened stick.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “So we duel, and you slay me with a stroke of luck only to be cut down by other men. If he so much as begins to win this duel, which he will not…Kill the other girl. The brunette he is fond of.”

  “And there ya have it folks.” Tom said loudly. “We’re all just pawns in his chess game. Free to serve or die, protected only if we mean something of value, willin to kill innocent people unless you got knowledge that gets you weapons and power. Gentleman Fredric Prima, man of honor, cheatin to win a duel with a blind nobody, kill an innocent woman, all for a metal leg everyone wants. These are the men you work for and trust, men who do anything for power and greed. Kill women and poor folk and cheat on their word. Man that tells his guards to kill a blind man if he looks like he might win, while a woman fakes being hostage, just to escape HIS DEAL, will lie about anything, and ain’t got honor for shit, and his word means shit. And y’all wonder why we don’t make a deal with him and trust his word!?” Tom barked loudly

  “Fine. We’re all cheating bastards, Tom. Men of no honor and infinite greed, and if you wish to challenge me, let it be fair. His word against mine is all you have and I have killed no one, nor imprisoned anyone. This man slanders me, draws a blade. Let him fight. May the man of honor live.” He said as the other men backed down and sheathed swords.

  “That’s a little better.” Tom said, taking a swing and being blocked, his blade diverted and ducking suddenly to dodge the neck strike. Tom’s hat fell to the ground, a mark across it’s front. He stepped closer, jabbing for the throat as Prima’s sword caught and circled the point away, throwing a punch and hitting tom in the face as he smirked and yanked him closer.

  “You’re in my range now bitch.” Tom chuckled headbutting him in the nose and hanging on to his collar, both swords now too close to stab, the tusk edges useless against thick leather coats and the deadly points now further than Tom’s arm, refusing to let go. Prima rotated back to pull the blade further, just enough to get the sharp tip to throat range as Tom lowered his arm over it, pinning it in place and kicking prima in the ribs. The tie broke and Prima spun away, missing the jab for Tom’s face.

  “Adequate with a blade.” Prima huffed, “And lawless in a bar brawl, as expected.” He sneered, readying another round. The sound of gunfire got his attention as Clara and Buch Renich kicked their way through the front door, opening fire on the guards with semi-auto rifles, AR15 resembling, but with wood and beefier frames,

  “That’s my way out. I’d die for them girls, doesn’t mean I won’t try not to.” Tom sighed as the crowd scattered and the Renichs carefully selected who to execute and who to let free. One man in the crowd slowly strutted his way through the opposing traffic, grabbing a sword off one of the dead guards. Lee Buchanan, cigar in his mouth, exhaled 2 jets of smoke from his nose like a raging bull ready to rush and murder. Buck Renich reloaded and racked his gun, placing a round in his side, jarring him slightly as he turned his attention, holding up his armored coat sleeve to guard his face.

  “Tom…You got Prima handled?” Buck asked, nervously opening what looked like a Vietnam-era under-barrel grenade launcher, feeding it a hefty shotgun shell.

  “I got him.” He nodded. “I ain’t no helpless useless cripple.”

  “Fantastic. I might be too busy to assist you for a minute.” He said, unleashing a massive recoil of buckshot into Buchanan, Who didn’t seem to care that much. Jen darted to the center of the room, lever gun and sawed off in hand as the chaos ensued, she spotted Tom and Prima, shouldering the 45 to take his head.

  “Stand down little lady. We’re settlin a dispute.” Tom said proudly.

  “You’re not gonna die fighting for my honor!” she barked.

  “Hell no, I ain’t. I’m gonna kill a man for it. You keep telling me you don’t need protectin, neither do I. This is a fair fight till it ain’t one.”

  “Can I shoot Buchanan?” she asked.

  “Fuck yes you can, I ain’t fightin him. Shoot the bastard dead.” He insisted, parrying another sword strike and clipping prima’s jacked in the return stab. Jen turned and began unloading on Buchanan, who absorbed 3 rounds to the back before over-hand throwing the saber in her direction. She stopped firing to dodge the 3 foot tusk spike, lodging in the leather chair next to her as he flipped up his coat hood and lumbered her way, Buch now firing at his back and only causing him to wince and shutter as the rounds struck the back of the hood.

  “Oh son of a bitch he really is the worst fucking one.” Jen said, frantically reloading as he disarmed another dead guard of his sword and Buck darted around wide for a shot at his face. Jen gave up trying to slowly reload the gun and began running, racking in one of the two rounds she got in it. Tom stuck the sword into Prima’s shoulder, back-stepping the retaliation swipe at his face.

  “Not so damn tough without a gun, are ya?” Tom boasted, hacking at his hand and knocking the sword out, his bloody knuckles retracted and starting to flee. “Chicken shit. Fight me like a real man!” he barked as prima made his escape and Buchanan lumbered into the lane, as if to take him on that offer.

  “TOM!” Jen yelled “RUN. HE’S ARMORED AND WAY MEANER!”

  “Goddamn face ain’t armored is it?” he asked, circling the bull and ready to fight.

  “JEN!” screamed Clara, her own makeshift mock AR15 in hand. “Shoot him in the face, Tom is gonna die!” she warned, Jen began reloading and trying to circle for a clear shot, Buchanan seeming to always have his armored back to the guns and his face to Tom. Tom clashed blade to blade, nearly having it yanked from his grip as his measure of strength suddenly became second place and inadequate. He dodged the slower behemoth, taking shots towards the face and hitting air, as his priority favored not dying to landing a death blow. He found an opening, jabbing for the eye socket and feeling the solid thud of impact and the tusk sword stopping, bent under the force of his thrust…and Buchanan’s hand on the sword anchoring it 3 inches from his face. Buchanan’s grip twisted the blunt weapon, Tom, unable to overpower it with both hands and locked onto the now free blade Buchanan was readying to use. Tom let go to dodge and stepped back to find himself unarmed and fully screwed as the armored bull bit down on the sword, holding it to adjust his bloody left hand to the grip, and adjust his stance to duel wielding both swords. Tom felt something bounce off his chest, hearing Jen yelling to catch it, scrambling for the sawed-off shotgun as a two-sworded bull rushed past him, blades passing over his head mid-roll. He grabbed the pistol, giving him 2 barrels full of glass marbles to the chest and sending him staggering back, not just pissed off.

  “I want assistance with this one!” Tom yelled, sliding across the floor with the shotgun in hand and shots zipping past him. Buchanan stopped, lifting both arms to cover his face as Jen and Buck unleashed hell on him from two directions letting Tom escape and tuck tail. He ran towards Buck as if ready to pass him by.

  “I thought you wanted a manly fight?”

  “With a man, not a bear! Where did prima run off to!?” he asked ad Buck nodded and he changed directions, letting the people with guns handle the beast. He hit the cold air and was immediately hunkered by several gunshots. Listening in the dark for Prima’s air gun and hiding behind a wooden barrel.

  “Not such a crack shot with a busted hand are ya? You wanna drop the guns and finish this?” he asked, firing a volley of scattershot in the general direction of Prima, letting him know aiming wasn’t a problem when you throw 24 high speed 30 caliber glass balls with every trigger pull. The two exchanged a few more shots, ducking and taking turns to see who gave up first. Tom waited and recognized the sound of feet in the snow. He rushed after him and readied to unleash both left barrels at the next sound. He stopped, catching his breath as Prima, stood, frozen in place getting in his carriage, the driver dead and slumped over, he turned and looked down Tom’s gun, sighing in defeat.

  “You got me…unless you ran outa air.” Tom said, slowly approaching him as the air pistol lowered.

  “It appears we duel like men as you wanted.”

  “Most accurate guns in Timber versus a blind man’s sawed-off scattergun and you come up short. Lotta good that airgun shit does if you can’t reload it. There’s your future of hot air technology, just blowing smoke up everyone’s asses.” (Shoots prima with his last round, wings him. Goes into surgery and lives)

  “TOM!” Yelled Jen’s voice in a frantic cry for help. He turned and listened for another call. Only silence.

  “It seems your woman is in need of you after all. Shall we fight and leave her to die or will you run to her? Killing an unarmed man is not your-”

  Tom pulled the trigger, flattening prima against the wagon clutching his chest and arm, running for Jen and hoping Prima would make the sound of a dead man dropping in the snow, and as he ran, the sound never came, followed by the sound of a carriage door slamming shut. “We’ll settle that argument some day, if you live!” he yelled back as he reloaded and got further from the carriage. He realized there should be a large house getting closer if he was moving the right direction, and there wasn’t one. He squinted and turned, 3 different blurry light blobs in different places none of them looking more house-like than the others. He turned in frustration, cocking the hammer at the sound of an approaching carriage.

  “TOM DON’T SHOOT!” Jen yelled as he immediately dropped the point of aim and sighed with relief.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Get in, we need to move!” she huffed, helping him up and practically pulling him in by the arm as the carriage briskly began rolling.

  “What happened?”

  “Wolves.” Said Hudson’s voice. “Too many to stand and fight. Lotta dead food to distract em while we run. We won, Tom. We won that round.”