I Am The Law, Pt. 3

The crowd had gathered in small groups, whispering amongst themselves. Naturally, they would spread rumour and innuendo about what had just happened. At least they all felt sympathy toward Cole, who's body now cooled on the dusty streets as the doctor tended to him. Shani and Pania walked with determination and looked to the doctor, waiting for some sign. All they found was a heavy sigh of regret from the doctor as he looked up to the pair and shook his head solemnly.

Shani scowled and let out a hiss as she turned to Pania. The elven bard was checking the Smith and Wesson's making sure they were fully loaded. Joshua was doing the same. Shani seemed rather relieved at the sight of Walker, who made his way to them slowly as his large hands held the 12 gage firmly in his grip. His face spoke volumes, he had known Cole for quite sometime, and now his old friend lay dead in the streets on a warm Saturday afternoon in Oxford.

“Doc,” Shani turned back to the doctor as she tried to calm herself. “See thet Cole gets alla 'ttention he needs. B'gin the ev'rythin' necessary thet his family is taken care of.” She turned back to her comrades. “Time ta pay Mitch a bit o' a visit, I wager.”

“There's gonna be gun play,” Walker cautioned her.

“Oh, I have no doubt o' thet,” Shani replied as she began to walk toward the saloon that stood across from the scene in the town square. “I purty much am expectin' it.” Shani was soon followed by Pania, then Walker and finally Joshua. Walker held his shotgun at the ready as the two elves let a hand rest of the butt of their pistols. The gathered crowd began to disperse, knowing full well what was coming. Shopkeepers locked their doors after quickly rushing patrons inside for protection. The town square became very quiet, very quickly.

Shani took a look to her right, gaging the demeanor of Walker and Joshua, then looked to her right as she studied Pania. That was when she noticed someone else stood with them. But it wasn't her first choice. Ming, still in his robes, stood shoulder to shoulder with them, glaring toward the doors of the saloon. “Ming,” Shani spoke up in a low whisper. “What the hell ya doin' here?”

He stood firm and never took his eyes off the doors as he replied. “To do what is right. To avenge those children.”

Shani took a deep breath and held any argument she had to herself. Ming would not be talked out of this. If anything, she had learned the man was very resolute in his decision making. Shani turned her focus back to the saloon and shouted out in a bold voice. “Mitch Canton! Git yer ass out here!”

The town square was still quiet, the creaking of the saloon doors seemed to echo wildly as a rather cocky looking Mitch swaggered out. His grin was twisted in a manner that he showed no care as to who it was calling him out. “Well, well,” he said in a slow drawl as he walked into the sun. Five more men followed him, all of them Canton's men Shani assumed. The look in their eyes betrayed their loyalty to the cowboy. “Ain't even sheriff fer a coupla hours an' here ya are, tryin' ta call the shots. I already tol' ya... Sheriff,” he said, making certain that the mocking tone of his voice was heard by Shani and all those who surrounded her. “Us Cantons 're the law 'round here, nobody but nobody does anythin' without our say so.”

“Thet a fact?” Shani replied in a matter of fact tone. “I see it diff'rent. I'm the one wearin' the star, Canton. I am the law 'round these parts. An' as such, y'all 're bound by law. I'm pretty sure I ain't gotta be listin' off the charges fer ya.”

“Maybe I should start listin' off yers,” Mitch replied as he tossed a paper onto the ground. The wanted poster. It was always the wanted poster. “Ya know, fifty thousand dollars is a lotta money. Should claim that fer m'self.”

“Who's gonna claim the bounty on yer head, Mitch?” Walker called out. The words made Mitch sneer with rage. This wounded soldier had lived far too long for Mitch's liking. “A gun hand like yerself is bound ta make a lotta enemiers, an' sooner 'r later, someone's gonna come gunnin' fer you.”

“They all too scared,” Mitch replied with a snort.

“I ain't,” Shani spoke up with a smirk. Her hand rested lightly on her gun, waiting for the cowboys to make some sort of move as she spoke. “There's only one o' two ways this here's gonna end. Either all peaceable like, an' y'all come 'long quietly. 'R we gonna have us some more bodies. An' I guarantee you, thet mine will not be one o' 'em.”

The town square grew quiet as the two groups stared each other down, the only sounds that could be heard was the wind rustling the leaves of the trees and the song of a bird every so often. Shani could even hear the low breathing coming from her comrades. Ming's was steady, calm and even. Walker's was calm as he seemed to stare down the others, as though his eyes alone would make the cowboys back down. Joshua was nervous. His hands shook, his breath quick. But he stood firm.

“I'm no' as fast as ye,” Shani heard Pania whisper. Both elven gunslingers kept their focus on the cowboys.

Shani clenched her teeth as she replied in a whisper of her own. “T'day ya are.” Her eyes were locked on Mitch. She studied him carefully. Even when drunk, she could tell he was still a dangerous man. Perhaps even more dangerous than when he was sober. No inhibitions. No fear of death. Six feet tall and bullet proof. “Last chance, Mitch,” Shani called out to him. “Y'all kin make the decision now.”

From the barricaded shops, townsfolk would dare to watch, peeking out to see what was happening as the five would face off against the cowboys. Some cried, knowing that this scene had repeated itself so many times, and each time with the same result. Others prayed that this might be the end, that finally the corruption, the chaos would come to an end. Such was life in a town ruled with an iron fist.

A young man with wild eyes stood beside Mitch. He looked even more twisted than the gun hand, and even more dangerous. But he was a greenhorn, and didn't know that every action was being measured by the elf that stood twenty feet away. Shani saw his subtle movements, heard his quiet laughter, saw his shifty eyes. And she knew he would be the first to make the mistake of drawing.

It came without question. The world seemed to slow down as the young man's hand moved as though stuck in molasses. His hand gripped the pistol firmly as he pulled it from his holster, cocking back the hammer, he raised it up, leveling it with the elven gunslinger. But just as he was about to pull the trigger, a pair of bullets slammed into him. He never had a chance as the shots fired by Shani were faster than he could ever think to be.

The shots became deafening as both sides fired with equal speed and exuberance. Ming rushed forward, catching a cowboy by surprise as he swatted the man's gun away with a simple swipe of his hand. His movements made this gun fighter suddenly very, very afraid. Ming was fast. Put a gun in the man's hands, he could be a deadly gunslinger, but he didn't need a gun. It wasn't long as the cowboy never had a chance to fight back. His unconscious body fell to the ground quickly.

The other cowboys were finding their success was of equal or lesser value to their now fallen comrade. One of them tried firing on Walker, the only contact was to land two bullets into his leg. His wooden leg. Walker only replied with a large amount of buck from the barrels of the shot gun.

With two cowboys now down, one of them grew scared. His mind raced as he saw his buddies fall, heard the bullets smack into the ground, the walls of the saloon and into the bodies of his friends. They were suddenly out gunned, and out classed by these five. And this one just bolted.

“One's takin' off!” Joshua shouted out.

“Leave 'im!” Shani called out. The firing had subsided. Two cowboys lay dead, and two more including Mitch, were injured. Sheriff Wennemein walked confidently over to Mitch as he dropped his gun into the dirt. “Y'all gonna keep this up?” she sneered to Mitch. He only replied with a glare of his own as his eyes shot daggers toward the Sheriff. “Take 'em ta the prison. Lock 'em up 'till we kin sort this out.”

“What's the charge?” Mitch shouted out.

“Disturbin' the peace,” Shani shouted back as she walked toward her partner. “An' the killin' o' a sheriff's deputy.” Mitch furrowed his brow as Joshua pulled him to his feet easily and began to lead him off to the office. “Take the dead an' prepare 'em burial. 'Least they gonna git thet.”

*****

Gator didn't stop running. Even without his horse, he bolted for the open spaces beyond the town of Oxford. He ran all the way back to the ranch. There, a few of the cowboys stopped him and tried calming him down. They all knew what to do when he told the tale, and they led him quickly to the main house. Dorval would know what to do.

Harold “Cheater” Dorval was a calm man for someone who was leader of such a group like this. They originally came out with a family from Boston to settle and farm, but the ravages of weather, constant attacks from rustlers, and then the war took it's toll. That was when Dorval decided to fight back, and his twisted sense of justice had made himself think he was king of Oxford. He had no use for the law, unless their goals matched his own. And the news that Gator told him nearly brought him to a maddening rage. But he remained calm.

“So there's a new sheriff in Oxford,” he snorted. “It would seem that Walker is getting bold, but not bold enough to do the job himself.” He walked across the length of the porch that looked out into the west of his rustic ranch house. He stopped as he stared into the eyes of a man in a blue uniform. “Captain Williams. It'd appear your goal an' mine 'r now the same. You want this Alow an' Wennemein dragged back ta Washington. An' now I want 'em dead.”

Captain Samuel Williams smiled as Dorval spoke the words. “There is nothing that says I have to take them back alive, Mr. Dorval.”

Caffine levels

Found this rather interesting test while cruising around other blogs. I always find interesting stuff at other blogs, and being the coffee-holic that I am, I had to check this out. It's the Caffeine Click Test. It determines your caffeine levels as you click on the coffee cup icon.

Mine for today is...


Created by OnePlusYou - Online Dating

Well, it is a Friday, after all, and it is publishing day. And this is the weekend.

Until someone slips me decaff...

...keep 'em flyin'!

I Am The Law, Pt. 2

The small group stood silently in the sheriff's office as one of the deputies stood watch over the wagon. Word was sent to the local banker that the strong box had finally come into town. The man who had ended the gunfight before it really started sat heavily in a chair behind a desk and studied those that entered. The Chinaman was fairing well for taking a bad hit to the shoulder and losing a lot of blood. The children were physically fine, but the trauma they suffered would remain with them for a very long time.

Shani and Pania stood opposite the man, across from the simple desk. He didn't know what to make of these two. A pair of female gunslingers, and from all appearances, they had quite the history about them. Neither one stood taller than his shoulder, and he wasn't a very tall man to begin with. But he'd seen how quick the black haired one had been. No matter how big or small they were, they were dangerous.

“Where ya come from?” He asked with a heavy breath as he sat back in his chair, his right hand massaging the muscles in his leg.

Pania looked to Shani and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if he wanted the general heading of where they had just ridden from, or the literal description of their home world. “Franklin, West Virginia,” Shani finally spoke up. “We're headin' fer Shreveport.”

“What's in Shreveport?” he asked calmly.

“...Underground Railroad,” Pania answered quietly. Shani looked to her and whispered about how close they were to the south. Pania just shrugged and whispered back about at least being honest. The man heard it, and chuckled lightly.

“That is a most interestin' statement,” he chuckled as he opened a drawer and removed two pieces of paper. Worn by the weather, but still very readable, he lay them on the desk. Shani audibly gulped as she saw yet another piece of evidence that had become the bane of her stay on Earth. Wanted posters. “Considerin' the information that come through 'bout you two.”

“Well,” Pania remarked with a sigh. “It look like our reputation do precede us.” The man only nodded as he sat back in his chair. Pania studied his eyes for a moment, and found all she needed to know. This man wasn't one to worry about grand details. He wanted things straight from the hip, honest information with no sugar coating. “I s'ppose ye want ta know 'bout the wagon.” The man nodded with a look that gave away how impressed he was with Pania's offer. “We were ridin' a few days, when we saw smoke plume up on the 'orizon. Took us three hours o' 'ard ridin', bu' when we go' there, Ming an' them two wee ones were all we found 'live.”

“We found the strong box,” Shani added casually. “I maybe a highwayman, but I ain't takin' blood money, hell no. An' we found this,” Shani said as she reached into coat pocket and placed the silver star on the desk. The man sighed heavily, recognizing it as he gently picked it up.

“Goddammit,” he cursed heavily under his breath. “Been waitin' for Marsden ta get ta us, thought he got held up in red tape is all.” He looked to the two elves for a moment before continuing. “We been without a sheriff goin' on a year now. Nobody in town's willin' ta take the position, either too old, too scared 'r ain't interested.”

“Wha' 'bou' ye?” Pania suggested. “Ye've go' the look 'bout ye.”

“Look is a helluva lot more 'n what it takes, Ma'am,” he said with a smirk as he propped up his right leg on the desk. His left hand balled up into a fist and tapped lightly on his left shin. Both elves could hear the distinct sound of wood, knowing full well this man moved so slowly, not because he was disciplined or determined, but because he had no choice. “I fought fer the south, but I will forgive the comment 'bout the Railroad. I may have the look, but I do not have the feel fer bein' a sheriff. 'Specially after I lost my leg at Chickamauga.” He looked to the star for a moment as he spoke. “This place needs someone with a quick hand an' quick wit 'bout 'em. Someone what can see the trouble an' diffuse it b'fore it gets too ugly.” He looked up as he studied Shani for a moment. “It didn't take long ta see that in you.”

Shani blinked a few times as his words sunk in. So did Pania. “Um...” Shani began to say as she tried to find the words. “Y'all tryin' ta tell me thet I'd make a good sheriff?” The man nodded his confirmation of her suspicions. Pania smirked slightly and laughed a bit before she looked over at Shani. The elven gunslinger furrowed her brow, but said nothing to the bard in response. Pania was right to scoff. “Well,” Shani finally said. “Guess I could give it a try.”

“Don't try,” he said as he rose to his feet and walked over to her. He placed the silver star on her coat and stood back just a bit. “Just do it. I ain't big on pomp an' ceremony, but I'd say this is it, Sheriff Wennemein. Time ta turn in that moniker o' Black Mask, don't ya think?”

*****

Shani's first duty as sheriff was to make Pania one of her deputies. That brought the count to four in total. There was Joshua, a young but determined man who had moved to Mississippi from New York with the wild dream of setting out on his own with a little section of land. That little section of land burned quickly, as the Canton boys gave him a warm welcome, leaving him homeless. It would have broken anyone else, but he dug deep inside and found his determination bigger than ever.

Cole was older, and really wasn't a gun hand. But he had a sense of duty.

And then there was Walker.

Johnathon Calib Walker, as he introduced himself to Shani and Pania after dubbing the elven gunslinger the new sheriff. An old Confederate soldier who moved a little slow, but held a wisdom in his eyes that saw past the cover that most would stop at. He only cared about what was right for his home. Especially with a wife and a new born.

After the introductions had been made, Shani turned her attention to the children. Ming watched over them protectively, but he wasn't a father. More like a guardian. He watched over them because he had to. Walker suggested they look into taking them to the local church. The preacher may have been a drunk, partaking a bit too much in the sacramental wine, but he knew people in the area who would take the young ones in and give them a good home.

The two elves took the children by the hand, and walked slowly over to the immaculately built church. Like a palace in this town, it was a sight to see. Not unlike the temples that Shani and Pania would often see back home. Inside, the church was well kept, but felt oh so quiet and so very much alone. Shani doubted that very many people came here on a Sunday. And currently, it seemed as though no one was here.

“'Ello!” Pania called out as she moved up the center aisle of the rows of pews. “Anyone 'ere?” She listened for a moment, hearing nothing. Just as she was about to turn back to Shani and suggest they try some place else, there was a small ruckus that came from the room behind the alter. With some effort, a middle aged man stumbled from the room, seemingly surprised to see anyone here on a Saturday afternoon. Pania tipped her hat as the man stared at the two.

“Hello?” he called back, seemingly taken aback that anyone would be here. “Didn't... didn't hear anyone come in,” he explained as he walked up the aisle to meet them. “Was getting ready for tomorrow's sermon.” He stopped when he took note of the two children that seemed to hide behind Shani as they clutched to her long coat.

“We found these this mornin',” Pania explained without waiting for any questions. “Parents 're gone. They'll need a family. Walker said ye'd be able ta 'elp.”

His demeanor seemed to change, became more determined as he nodded. “I know a good family that will take them in. Good Christians. And they'll be able to provide for them.” He watched as Shani spoke in hushed tones to the children. Reluctantly, they moved to sit in one of the pews by the preacher as he watched Pania and Shani. He saw the silver star clear as day and seemed to take a deep breath. “You... you're the new sheriff.”

“I wager so,” Shani replied with a small huff. “Woke up this mornin' never thinkin' this'd happen.” She looked to the children and smiled. “Well, we best git. I figger we ain't gonna be stayin' very long, maybe long 'nough ta git a new sheriff, but it seem there's some cleanin' up ta do.” She looked to Pania and motioned toward the door, tipping her hat to the preacher as she turned to leave. “'Preciate it, padre. Thank ya kindly.”

The pair walked back into the sunlight of the streets and stood for a moment as they watched the people returning to their busy day. Almost as though the earlier gunfight never happened at all. Shani sighed heavily as she thought this must be an everyday occurrence here in this small town.

Joshua's shout brought them out of simpler thoughts. He ran toward them quickly, with excited, yet fear filled eyes. “Sheriff...” he stammered as he tried to catch his breath. Both Pania and Shani raced to his side and waited as he tried to catch his breath. “Tried...tried stoppin' Cole. Tol' him it weren't no use tryin' ta talk ta Mitch. But Mitch were drunk down by town square an' shootin' off his pistols as he screamed 'bout b'comin' mayor. Seem they heard 'bout ya b'comin' Sheriff.”

“What happened ta Cole?” Shani said through clenched teeth, knowing full well what the answer would be.

“Dead,” Joshua finally blurted out. “Mitch shot 'im without even so much as a how d'ya do.”

Shani glared as she stared down the street. “Pania. Git yer guns ready. Joshua, go find J.C.” She clenched her fists as she took a deep breath, trying to push back the anger that welled up in her breast. “This bullshit ends now.”

I Am The Law, Pt. 1

Just outside Oxford, Mississippi, September 5, 1863

They rode hard toward the plume of smoke as it rose into the air. Shani tightened the reins on her horse as they drew near, Pania followed suit and could only stare in disbelief. A small wagon train, very small, maybe three wagons. The horses were either scattered, stolen or dead. They could see two carcasses of the horses that had obviously been too slow to escape. Shani pointed out two other bodies, one laying spread eagle on the ground some distance from the wagons, the other, in a heap on the ground by one of the wagons. All three wagons were smoldering as small fires still burned.

Pania jumped off her horse, grabbed her medical satchel and ran to the body by the wagons. Dead. She quickly pulled on the door of the wagon with a gloved hand and held her arm up as she guarded herself against the heat from the flames. Two more bodies were inside. She looked to Shani, who had also reached the second visible body. He lay face down in the dirt, evidence proving clear that after he had been taken down, whoever attacked continued shooting the body in the back. Pania stood beside Shani, and only watched as the elven gunslinger carefully turned the body over. Shani sighed heavily as she saw the silver star.

“Figgers,” she huffed, as she crouched down and removed the sheriff's star.. “Ain't no one but dang outlaws do this ta a lawman.” She looked up to Pania, who understood all too well that there were those that would accuse both of them of such a thing as this. Fabrication, really. Neither one would slaughter people like this. Shani rose to her feet and pocketed the star as she looked around. “Anyone 'live?”

Pania shook her head with a heavy sigh. “Anyone in the wagons were shot an' then burned. Whoever did this, did it as a warnin'.” She looked down to the body of the sheriff for a moment. “'Aveta give 'em a proper burial.”

Shani inspected the wagons a moment, taking note of the baggage still secured by leather straps that seemed to withstand the flames. She dragged one down that appeared to be a strong box and opened it carefully with gloved hands. Inside, it was still filled with what could have been payroll money, money to be transported to the local bank, or even cash owned by one of the dead. “This weren't no heist, I'll tell ya thet much.” She closed the box and locked it before she rose to her feet. This was blood money. No way she was going to touch it.

Pania noted the boxes that seemed carelessly discarded from the wagons, as though some had been pulled off. Something wasn't right about them. She approached one of the larger ones and studied it for a moment. Her eyes widened slightly as her keen elven ears could hear a muffled, quiet whimpering. “Shani,” she called out, motioning for her partner to come over. “Listen,” she said in a whisper as the elven gunslinger approached. Shani took a moment and listened, then looked to Pania. She could hear it too. Shani circled to the other side of the box and placed a hand on her long barrel. “Whoever's inside,” Pania called out as her own hand rested on her Smith and Wesson. “We're no' 'ere ta 'urt ye. We're gonna open the box, promise ye'll be fine.”

The elven bard nodded to Shani, and she opened the box quickly. Two voices cried out as they seemed to push themselves further away from the opening, but couldn't. Pania couldn't believe what she was seeing. A man in grey robes and a long, neatly braided pony tail was protecting two children, a boy and a girl. The man was Chinese, and obviously not long in the Americas. He looked as though he had just walked out of a monastery. His robes were like that of traditional Chinese monks, Pania had seen them before when she had seen other Chinese in her previous travels in the mid west. Most came to work on the railroad, some just an adventure of exploration to this brave, new world.

Shani reached out with a gentle hand, and spoke in a calming voice. “It's alright, ain't gonna hurt ya. Y'all kin come out now.” The children clung to the man in terror as tears streamed down their faces. Shani sighed as she knew the trauma they had just endured. “It's alright,” she repeated, and finally found the tiny hand of the girl reaching out to hers. She helped the child out, falling to her knees as the child wrapped her arms tightly around Shani's neck. “It's alright. Ain't gonna hurt ya. Yer safe now,” she said as she tried desperately to console the girl. The boy followed suit, leaning heavily on the elven gunslinger. They probably were in that box for quite some time.

Pania reached out to the Chinese man, offering to help him up. He looked to her with tired eyes, and right away, Pania could tell the man was more than likely on his last legs. “Sit up,” she said as she helped him, using the back of the box to prop him up. A bullet wound had ripped through his shoulder, and he had a lot of blood loss. “Gonna try an' patch ye up,” she said as she took out a dagger and began cutting away at the robes by his shoulder. “Fergive me fer this,” she said as the cloth ripped. She began to clean him up as best she could, taking her satchel and placing it in the man's lap. Pania spoke to him in a conversational tone as she worked. “M'name's Pania,” she said in a calm tone as she worked at cleaning his shoulder. “Go' a bi' o' a bum shoulder. Gonna need ta 'eal fer a time. Rest as well.”

The man looked over at the elven bard, his breathing was even and continuous for a man who had just taken a bad hit to the shoulder. Even then, he was lucky. They could have hit him in the chest. Then the two children might not have had their protector. “Yao Ming,” he replied in slow and even voice. “The children?”

Pania looked over to Shani. She was still trying to calm the children, speaking to them in low whispers as they clung to her for protection. “Their fine,” Pania finally said as she returned to Ming's shoulder. She examined it for a short time before reaching into her satchel. “Ye protected 'em, by the look o' thin's. They're lucky.” She produced a few of her tools and concentrated on Ming's shoulder. “I'd say ye lucky as well. Lo'a blood loss, bullet's still in there. Bu' ye'll be fine with some rest an' nourishment.” She held up a tool which had long, pincer like ends and looked to Ming with reassuring eyes. “I'll no' lie. This is gonna 'urt. Bu' better ta 'ave it out 'n leave it be.” Ming nodded slowly and took a deep breath.

It was going to be a long, long day of work ahead for all of them.

*****

Shani pounded the stake into the ground, the last of eight. She'd spent a good part of the day digging the shallow graves on the roadside as Pania tended to the man and the two children. When needed, Pania would help carry the dead to the graves, where they would begin a sort of ritual similar to that of a funeral, only very, very elven. Also very quick. Shani didn't want to feel so exposed.

As the elven gunslinger took to filling in the graves, Pania tried to find whatever supplies that she could salvage from the three wagons. One of them appeared in pretty decent shape, as it was not set ablaze as the other two were. And they were fortunate that two of the horses that were hitched to the wagons had run off, but slowly returned. They could get a small train going.

Pania had moved back to her patients, checking on them carefully as she tended to the fire that burned slowly. Food was cooking, they all needed to eat. Evening was slowly creeping up on them all. The children had quieted down, falling asleep as they sobbed lightly. Ming was also very quiet, and only spoke when Pania or Shani directed a question to him. He only accepted water and some jerky rations that Shani had on her. After hours of little to no conversation, he finally spoke.

“I have seen you two before,” he said as Shani finally came to the camp fire after finishing her work. “Wanted posters.” He looked between the two slowly as he measured his words. “Outlaws.”

“Ya know,” Shani said with a huff as she took out a flask of whiskey. “I'm gonna have ta have a talk with them thet made 'em, b'cause I say near eighty percent o' them is nuthin' but crap.” She took a swig and offered some to Pania. The elven bard took it, and drank deeply before coughing and spitting some up. She looked to Shani with a furrowed brow and handed the flask back to her. “I guess I shoulda warned ya, huh?” Shani replied with a smirk. “Should be used ta it by now.”

“I'd no' mind if ye were tryin' ta take advantage o' me,” Pania said as she coughed again. “Whiskey's disgustin'. Dunna know 'ow ye can drink it.” She rose to her feet and walked to her horse, retrieving her blanket. “As fer them posters, Ming,” she said as she walked to the children and covered them carefully as they finally began to sleep. “We've done thin's, aye, bu' nuthin' like this.”

“We ain't butchers,” Shani added as she pocketed the flask. “We don't ransack a caravan an' kill near alla those inside.” Shani picked up a stick and prodded the fire slightly, making sure the flames lived enough to produce some heat for warmth and to cook the food that sat on the small, makeshift stand.

Ming nodded as the odd logic began to make sense. “Thieves with honour,” he said quietly.

“No' thieves,” Pania remarked as she sat back down next to her patient. “Well, 'least I'm no',” she added as she inspected Ming's bandages. “I dunna knock over banks.”

“So, I guess stealin' medical supplies really ain't stealin', huh?” Shani remarked with a slight snicker. Pania stopped her inspection and looked to her partner. She had to resign to the fact that yes, she was a thief as well. “Think what she's tryin' ta say is thet anythin' we take gits ta them thet need it most.” Shani tested the food to see if it was done. Satisfied, she began dishing up some of the beans onto simple tin plates, adding a chunk of bread and a bit of cheese. Ming took his with a nod of thanks. Not what he would usually eat, but Pania seemed to have medical knowledge. He would abide by her wisdom. Shani looked toward the Chinaman for a moment as she handed out food. “So how ya do it? Protect 'em, I mean.”

Ming took his plate and rested it in his lap as he considered her question. “They were easily fooled,” he said after some thought. “One of them had aimed for the children as a small group was discarding boxes. I could have fought them off, but they probably would have killed me. If that had happened, then the children might have been next. I jumped in front of the bullet just as the man fired. It gave the children a chance to hide. I fell, and somehow, maybe luck, they believed me dead.” He took a spoonful of the beans and ate quietly, feeling his explanation was more than enough. Shani nodded slowly, realizing that he didn't have to say anymore. This man of few words had spoken more than he had since they first met him.

“Prolly best ta 'ead inta town in the mornin',” Pania suggested as she quickly changed the subject. “Take the strong box ta the sheriff's office.”

“I ain't touchin' thet thing,” Shani said as she sat her plate down and nibbled on her cheese. “Thet there's blood money. Thet's like a curse.”

“Ye no' bloody takin' it fer yeself,” Pania shot back quickly. “People're gonna need tha' money. Best we take it inta town.” Shani shrugged and resigned herself to the bard's demand. No need to argue about it. “Fer now jus' rest. I doubt tha' whoever done this will be back t'night.”

“You an' me's still sleepin' in watches,” Shani said as she reached for her gear and pulled out a Winchester rifle. She set it beside her and continued eating. “B'cause I really don't feel like gittin' shot while I'm asleep.” She looked over to Pania who nodded in agreement. Better to be safe than sorry.

*****

The night was uneventful as the two elves slept in shifts. Morning came quickly, and it allowed them time to break camp and prepare for the journey. They had twenty miles to go before they hit Oxford. It took them half an hour to break camp, load up, and start moving out. Shani took the reins in the wagon, as Pania rode her horse, guiding Gipsum along behind her.

The trip itself was uneventful, as they reached Oxford by midmorning. A busy little town, people were already hustling and bustling about. But there was something Shani could not put her finger on. An uneasy feeling that she sensed from each person. They would stop and stare at the stagecoach as it moved slowly through the streets, but turn and walk away quickly as they met eyes with the gunslingers.

As they neared the sheriff's office, loud shouting could be heard from the local saloon, and three very drunk cowboys came staggering out, each holding a bottle and laughing loudly. Shani pulled on the reins and stopped the horses, just as Pania brought her own horse to a halt and checked on Gipsum. “They sure ge' started early at the taverns 'ere it'd seem,” Pania noted.

“Yeah, jist a buncha good ol' boys,” Shani replied quietly as she watched the three carefully. “Keep yer sights keen, girly girl. We don't need no trouble, but these could bring it ta us.” Pania nodded as she raised a hand and muttered softly. Shani could just barely make it out and coughed as she looked to Pania, shaking her head to the action that Pania was about to take. “If trouble come, there's jist one thing we do,” she said in a quiet tone as her lithe fingers tapped the bone handle of her long barrel. Pania furrowed her brow a moment, but stopped the incantation and her hand dropped next to her Smith and Wesson.

One of the three drunks seemed just sober enough to take in his surroundings. He spotted the wagon, and there seemed to be a flash of recognition, but the driver was not the same as he remembered. “Well,” he said with a broad smile as he motioned to his drinking buddies. “Seems there's some new folks in town. Good thing the welcome wagon is already here!” His partners laughed a loud as they advance toward the wagon. “An' a pretty driver, an' a pretty rider in shot gun. Well, ain't this here a sight.”

“Maybe the three o' ya could step 'side so we don't trample ya,” Shani replied in an even tone. The three stopped as the cowboy who had spoken seemed to sober up just a bit more. The smile seemed to fade from his face as he studied Shani. Pania noticed something else. The streets were clearing quickly. “Ya know, it bein' the neighbourly thing ta do an' all.”

“Well now, that would indeed be the neighbourly thing,” he commented as his smile returned, somewhat twisted and filled with malice as his partners came to flank him. Shani sighed and lowered her head. She didn't want this, she didn't need a gun fight. “'Cept ya haveta know one thing. This here's our town. The Canton Boys run this place. Here, we're the law.”

“That so,” Pania replied as she slowly rose her head. She had these three pegged quickly. They seemed the type to ransack a wagon train. “Thet include killin' women an' children.” The air became quite crisp as each participant could hear everything around them quite clearly. Shani's sudden accusation rang clear throughout the streets. She watched as one of the cowboys leaned over to the one who appeared to be the leader of this small band of brigands, and she could almost hear him mention that he was positive the kids got away and they never found them. “Guess it were lucky thet Chinaman hid 'em an' protected 'em.”

She hit pay dirt. All three of them looked to her, they had hate in their eyes. And one of the cowboys flanking the leader made the mistake of reaching for his pistol. His hand never even pulled the iron from it's holster as Shani moved in a flash and fired. The first shot blew off his thumb, while the second went straight through his wrist. The other cowboy that flanked the leader grew twitchy and pulled his own pistol.

Pania anticipated it, and fired a shot that went through his wrist. Two cowboys lay on the ground in pain. Leaving the third seething with hate and anger.

“If I were you,” Shani sneered right back. “I best collect yer friends an' git the hell outta here. 'Cause I'm jist bettin' thet we could fill ya fulla holes if y'all reach fer thet piece...” Shani's sentence was cut short as the report of shotgun sounded out. The elves turned toward the sound and saw a broad shouldered man lowering the firearm. He had a worn and leathered look about him, and tired but suspicious eyes had seen a great deal. He wasn't a sheriff, but he seemed to hold some air of authority.

“Mitch,” he called out to the cowboy that still stood in the street. “Collect Ferret an' Gator an' get 'em the hell back ta yer ranch.” Mitch sneered toward the man in the same manner as he did toward Shani. But the sound of a pair of shells falling to the ground as the shotgun chamber was emptied, along with the cocking back of the hammer of a Remmington made his decision to retreat quite easy. The man just watched as Mitch gathered his comrades and dragged them off toward the doctor's office. As the three disappeared into the building, the man looked to Shani and Pania.

“You two, come with me,” he merely said in a husky tone. The two elves pushed their small train forward without any argument. They didn't want to see what would happen if they did.

Cardiac Kids

Cardiac Kids.

That's what I'm calling the Riders. That's what this team has been this year, as they've managed to win with four different quarterbacks, and managed to win in the fourth quarter. The Saskatchewan Roughriders pulled into Winnipeg after handing the Blue Bombers a convincing drubbing the week previous. History was on Winnipeg's side, however, as the Bombers were almost always victorious on the recently named Banjo Bowl.

And as the game progressed, it appeared as though the Bombers were going to hand the Riders a favour for the drubbing previous. Heading into the fourth quarter, the Blue Bombers were up 31 to 14. But the Riders managed to put up 20 unanswered points on the board in that fourth quarter. With a touchdown to rookie receiver Weston Dressler, and accuracy from the toe of Luca Congi, the Riders pulled the game to a tie with less than a minute left.

The Rider defense came up big, holding Winnipeg to little to no gain on the ground, and just as the outcome looked to be going to overtime, the Riders pulled out a little magic from that hat of theirs.

Michael Bishop tossed a pass to Gerran Walker to put the Riders in perfect position to clinch the game with a field goal. Luca Congi did the rest.

Now down the home stretch of the CFL season, the Riders sit a top the Western Division with a record of 8 and 2, but they have back to back games against B.C. and Calgary to look forward to. If they can split those games with the Lions and the Stampeders, the Riders will be in good shape to take first place in the Western Division since the 1970's.

Until next time...

...keep 'em flyin'.

Spore: What is it?

There's been talk about a new game out, brought to the computer gaming world by Electronic Arts and Maxis called Spore. The game allows you to create not just a character, like many other online games have you do, but the entire society and planet of the race that character comes from. You build one creature, and watch it grow, and evolve, and create a society.

You can expand in the universe as well, allowing yourself to meet other players and interact with them right away.

I downloaded the trial for the creature creator, and trust me, that alone is hours of entertainment to see what different creature types you can create.

Check the game out, if it's anything like the trial for the creator, and just as much fun, then it's completely worth it. And while you're at it, take a gander at my creations.



And, to see some of these little guys in action, just take a look at this.



Until next time...

...keep 'em flyin'!