“Right. Gonna kick his ass,” Gwen said, pacing back and forth on the boardwalk that stretched along the beach just above the dueling ground below. “Then we’ll enjoy the next three days seeing what this place has to offer, and back down the river.”
Jed nodded. After watching her practice her quick draw that morning, he was more certain than ever that Ignias was a doomed man.
Even with his prep, he hadn’t had time nor inclination to attune the man to their device. Even now one of the attendants was setting the anchors in place, folding signs. The Brewer had engraved the backs with special materials from his collection. It had cost them most of the rest of the red-rimmed token they’d given the man despite the fact the Brewer would be keeping the signs, whether they worked or not.
Not Jed’s best deal, admittedly, but it had certainly helped motivate the other man.
The Brewer was supervising the attendants, having them adjust the signs ‘just so’. It was unusual enough he expected Ignias to comment on it.
However, the man was… well, he seemed strangely content, honestly.
The anger and violence he’d barely contained seemed to have left him. If Jed didn’t know better, he might think Ignias was looking forward to losing. Adella’s narrowed gaze was locked on both him and Gwen, as if attempting to ferret out their secrets.
A little late to do so, Jed figured.
“So, got you something,” Jed said, producing the handkerchief he’d spotted the day before. “For luck.”
“How is this lucky?” Gwen asked, stopping her pacing to take the amber colored cloth. Then she noticed the jaguar stitched into the fabric, a smile twitching across her face.
“It’s so you carry a bit of my honor with you,” Jed said, pulling unstrapping the holster for Mythlyn’s revolver and handing it over as well. “Though this might be a bit more lucky.”
“Ah, right,” Gwen said, unslinging her gun belt to add Mythlyn’s holster. She spent a solid two minutes adjusting her gun belt before nodding to herself. “Thanks, partner.”
“Long term,” Jed said, nodding. “Gotta make sure of it.”
“Just don’t get yourself shot while we’re busy,” Gwen said, smacking his arm.
Jed was about to respond when Jate approached, needing to go over some rules with Gwen.
Excusing himself, Jed was smiling as he looked about the town, enjoying the warm breeze. He was about to focus on the duel when his eyes snapped back to a group of men on elkback riding into town. Men wearing all black, with silver hexagonal stars hung on their breasts. Imperial marshals.
He tucked his new hat down, tapping his elbow against Gwen’s, interrupting her discussion with Jate. When she held up her hand, glancing over, he said simply, “looks like the Imps are here for the show.”
“Not the first to want a little blood sport,” Gwen said, nodding to him even as she slipped him their money pouch.
Pocketing the pouch inside the duster, Jed sighed even as his hand hip, where Mythlyn normally laid, only to come away empty. He’d wanted to stay and watch over Gwen’s duel, make sure their contingencies worked properly.
It seemed he had other work to do.
First he made his way back to the ship to collect their possessions. He’d rather not have to replace them again. Much fun as he was having shopping with Mythlyn and Gwen, it took time. Not every part of getting hunted by the Empire could be fun, he figured.
To his surprise, the marshals didn’t even notice him walking past, loaded with their packs. Instead they were joking, eating and drinking, some of them making bets about the upcoming duel.
Not the most professional, but he wasn’t complaining as he hauled their gear away. With it safely stored at the edge of town, Jed set about finding transportation. Preferably something other than elkhearts.
To his surprise, he found exactly what he was hoping for.
Two big rugged wheels clearly meant for offroading, thick front armor and demon skull projection that was only a little hazier than the worst of Cella’s.
An offroad warp-stallion, ready to run on RDR.
Well, mostly ready.
The owner had been trying to sell it for nearly a decade, though none of the locals had the money, and most visitors didn’t want to spend the effort fixing it up.
Or simply hadn’t had the expertise.
Using motes of warp-fire and his portals, it only took Jed a few minutes to get the gunk cleared out. It’d take more work to get it capable of using its repulsion to travel on the rim-tracks, but for simply rolling down a road, it was more than good enough.
Refueling it took a lot longer, since Jed had to run into town, convince the old man at the refueling station that he wasn’t going to make a bomb out of the fuel container, and then get it back out to the farm where he’d bought their new warp-stallion.
He saw the marshals interrogating several of the nearby townspeople even as he worked, catching questions about Hunters riding in on elkback or buggy. It almost had him wondering if maybe they should return to the pleasure wheeler and just hide there.
Deciding not to commit to either plan with their escape set, Jed moved back to the beach, making his way up the back of a beachfront hotel nearby. The rough brick was easier to climb than Metsa’s advanced climbing wall, leaving Jed grateful for the grueling training she’d put them through. He would’ve thought it impossible to make such a climb when he fell down atop the maintenance roach beside them. Just as impossible as warping across the galaxy.
Chuckling softly to himself, Jed moved across the mostly empty roof, making certain not to bump any of the plants someone had placed near the staircase leading up. He did, however, wedge a chair under the handle.
That done, he laid down near the edge of the roof, hat held tight against the wind as he looked over the dueling arena and the beachfront street. The marshals were making their way towards the duel, but they didn’t seem to be in any sort of hurry. Still, Jed retrieved his rifle, checking it over.
Just in case.
The clouds had disappeared entirely by the time Gwen and Ignias stepped into the dueling ring. Jed was amused to note them lining up back to back. Less amused to see Adella talking with Ethward and Cathon. He doubted the woman could be up to anything good. Still, the other hunters could handle themselves.
In the ring, Gwen and Ignias stepped away from each other, each taking eleven steps before spinning in place.
Much as he’d expected, Ignias only made it halfway through the motion before he was struck in the shoulder by Gwen’s first shot.
Amazingly, it wasn’t enough to keep the man from firing. Unfortunately for him, that shot didn’t go anywhere near Gwen. Even more unfortunately, especially for the man who was hit, the marshals had chosen that moment to come across the scene.
With one of their own listing sideways in the saddle, Jed expected an explosion of violence.
Sure enough, some of the marshals were reaching for their weapons. However, a man’s voice cut through the chaos, beating order into the marshals.
Jed hadn’t been idle, bringing the rifle to bear. He had an excellent view of the man who’d stopped the marshals from unloading on the others. To his surprise, he recognized him.
It was the angry man who’d attacked them in Metsa’s training warehouse.
Except… that wasn’t exactly right. The angry man had been similar, but had been a little more casual, less upright. He also hadn’t had the wicked scar that ran down this man’s cheek. Not something that would’ve healed in the week or so since they’d killed the angry man, even if Jed hadn’t seen Mythlyn incinerate his corpse.
The man called something out to Gwen. Gwen yelled something back, raising two fingers in response.
Jed flinched at that, but the man simply frowned, dismounting and moving to inspect Ignias more closely. Then he called out the Brewer, who stepped forward and had a short conversation with the marshal.
The entire time, Jed kept his sights on the marshal. Something told him he was more dangerous than the rest of the marshals combined. The smart move would’ve been to take him out.
For a second, he held his breath, the decision weighing on him.
As the marshal got back to his elkheart, the man hesitated, turning to sweep his gaze around the square.
Jed pulled back, ducking down. It was one thing to fight back against men wielding deadly force. It was another to shoot a man doing their job, pursuing a known killer. And he was that, far as most of the marshals knew. His hand drifted to where Mythlyn should be.
Then he shook it off, pulling the chair free of the door and moving to the edge of the building. There was another only a dozen feet down nearby that had a pipe running down the back. Jed dropped down carefully, bleeding his momentum before making his way over to the pipe, using it to brace as he descended quickly.
The marshals had moved again, this time to the pleasure wheeler, making Jed glad he’d grabbed their stuff while they’d been otherwise occupied.
“They’ve got a picture. Of you, I mean. Got your nose wrong, but otherwise pretty good. I kept one,” Gwen said as she joined him around the side of the hotel, glancing back at Ethward and Cathon, giving them a wave which they returned. “Piss poor time for them to show up, even ignoring the fact one of them managed to get himself shot. Gonna miss those two.”
“Hopefully we’ll be able to meet up with them in Seven Falls,” Jed said, nodding towards the back street. The town didn’t have much more than the two streets. The nice pretty one that ran along the beach, and the less impressive one where all the services ran. And most of the elkhearts.
Jed thought it somewhat amusing that the marshals were literally stinking up the boardwalk with their mounts.
“What?” Gwen asked, making him realize he’d chuckled out loud.
So he told her.
“Ha. Feel bad for whoever has to clean that up,” Gwen said even as she navigated around the same on the street they were on. “Speaking of, you got us elkhearts, yeah?”
“We’re good to go, yeah,” Jed said, not wanting to clarify within hearing range of the villagers watching them pass. Not that it’d take long to figure out.
Soon they passed out of town on the road heading rimward, walking up and over the small rise. Soon as they were over it, Jed had them cutting south towards the farm where the warp-stallion was tucked away.
Gwen’s brows furrowed as they approached the small shed that had no sign of elkheart pen or stalls.
For a second, Jed was worried he’d messed up. Deciding not to worry about it, he pulled the old wooden door open, revealing the even older warp-stallion.
“You…” Gwen trailed off as she stepped forward, running a hand down the length of the rugged seating which had clearly seen better days. “How much?”
“Two red.”
“You…” Gwen spun about, then pulled him into a tight hug. “You’re the best damn partner ever.”
“I’d say she approves.”