I Am The Law, Pt. 7

Oxford, Mississippi, September 21, 1863
Shani looked around the office for a moment as she gathered her things together. She and Pania had been in the town for nearly two weeks. They'd gone from hunted outlaws to trusted peacemakers, in just two weeks. After Shani took down Dorval, life in Oxford grew much more peaceful. A new judge came in from Jackson, and the rest of Dorval's men were sent to trial. Some were given light sentences. Others, like Mitch and Gator, had enough evidence against them that they saw the gallows. Peace had returned to this little spot in the south.

And it was time for the two elven gunslingers to move on.

J.C. Walker stood in the doorway as Shani finished packing her things. He watched her as she gazed upon the silver star that she wore for those two weeks. It had become an extension of her, something that she didn't even take notice of. Sheriff Wennemein. It did have a ring to it. “Lotta people gonna be a bit disappointed that yer movin' on,” he said in a somber tone.

Shani didn't look up, she merely shrugged in response. “Sometimes a person has ta do what they gotta do. I come ta this world lookin' fer adventure. I ended up doin' somethin' thet needed bein' done. Now it's time ta move on.”

Walker pushed himself off the door frame and walked into the room and took a look around as he spoke. “Guess that's true 'nough. At least ya helped put people's minds at ease. Been a while since a man could walk down the streets o' this town an' see people smilin' without getting' that feelin' o' dread.” He stood beside Shani, and even though his six foot seven frame towered above the elven gunslinger, he looked upon her as though she were ten feet tall. “Gonna be hard ta find a new Sheriff.”

She moved to face the old gun hand fully, and looked up into his eyes with a smile. Shani still held onto the silver star with delicate fingers, and for a brief moment, looked to it before reaching up and gently placed it on Walker's lapel. “No,” she said in a quiet voice that held a small smile. “No, it ain't gonna be too hard ta find a new sheriff.”

*****

Shreveport, Louisiana, September 21, 1863
Armed guards circled the small camp that was set up just outside the small city of Shreveport. In recent years, it had come to this. Renegades from the north and sympathizers from the south had begun raiding slave traders, and stealing off with slaves. Owners who were putting slaves up for auction had the most to lose, as they had time and money invested in these slave auctions.

To Ezekiel Morgan, the politics didn't matter. He just waited things out, going from one master to another. He hoped, in time, that he might see some of these people who would free him or any of those he was caged with. Born in captivity, he did not know what freedom was. But he'd heard the stories. Perhaps one day, he might actually taste his own freedom.

He looked up as one delicately dressed man wandered through the camp. Behind him there was a small group that followed him, including a woman. A black woman, dressed in the oddest of clothes. She looked very fine, and very well kept. Maybe this slaver actually treated his slave better than some others. But he soon pushed that from his mind as the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He got a bad feeling from this woman. He wasn't sure what it was, but he only knew, she could not be trusted.

The adventure continues...

I Am The Law, Pt. 6

The day went by slowly as the people of Oxford went about their business. Rumour had spread quickly, something was going to happen on this day. No new people, no celebration in the town, nothing of happy times ahead, but news and rumours that put worry in the eyes of the townsfolk. They could feel it as they would pass by Sheriff Wennemein or any of her deputies.

Shani walked the streets just for something to do. She was nervous, excited, and worries about the events to come. She knew Dorval would cheat, as his nickname would indicate. He'd try to set up some sort of trap, and have her gunned down in the streets by his men. Fortunately, Shani had backup of her own.

Word came down where Dorval wanted to meet, and it was ironic that the location was where Cole had been gunned down by Mitch and his buddies in drunken revelry. Shani would not allow that to happen to herself. So she inspected the town square, taking note of the rooftops, the alleyways, the hiding spots where Dorval might set up his men. She wanted all of the angles covered. So for most of the day, Pania, Walker and Ming explored the town square as best they could. They determined absolutely every possible location that Dorval's men could ambush the elven gunslinger from. They already knew that Dorval had ten men who would ride with him. More than likely they would come into town a couple of hours before the appointed meeting. Possibly half an hour before they would set themselves up. So Pania had her work cut out for her. Thirty minutes to flush out the ambush.

Shani had the easy part. If one could call being faced down by a gun hand with the possibility of being shot dead in the street easy. However, with her three allies, she had nothing to worry about. Dorval would be the one who needed to worry. Shani just had to keep up her bravado.

Nothing like a date with death to make the time drag by slowly. Noon came and went and Shani paced with a nervous excitement in the office for an hour. Partially wanting to steel herself by letting Mitch mock her, call her down. But after a while, even that outlaw knew that Shani was just using him to bolster her own confidence. Eventually, he quieted down and lay down on his cot until Shani finally decided to leave.

The afternoon dragged on. There was no contact and no sight of either Dorval or his men. The assumption was that Dorval would leave things until the last might and not allow Shani the time to scope out the area decided upon. And so, Shani stayed close to Pania, Walker and Ming in case anyone tried to ambush her before the alloted time come.

By five thirty, the message came.

Gator walked with a smirk down the street toward the Sheriff's Office. He had that cocky attitude that would come around when he felt he was on the winning side. Shani and her crew was lazily resting on the porch to the Sheriff's Office when they saw the cowboy approach. Shani pushed herself off the support post she'd been leaning on to meet Gator in the street. “'Bout time ya come here,” Shani called out, stopping Gator in his tracks.

He snickered as he studied the elven gunslinger for a moment. “Small change in plan,” he stated with a smile. “Dorval d'cided it best thet y'all don't gotta git worked up too much. So he figger ya just stay here. Dyin' in front o' yer office'll be poetic 'nough.”

“So Dorval thinks,” Shani replied in an even tone. “Tell Dorval I'll be ready.” She watched as Gator lazily turned and marched back down the street. Shani waited until he was out of earshot, then turned to her comrades. “Time's a wastin'. Guess we best git this started.” The other three nodded wordlessly and moved into the street. They had just one goal, find Dorval's men, take them out and make certain to quell any thoughts of an ambush. Shani was suddenly very alone as she stood in the street and waited.

It wasn't long.

Dorval walked down the street slowly, his eyes landing on the elven gunslinger as she stood in the street. He smiled and let out a quiet chuckle as he called out. “Seem yer all 'lone, little girl.” He came to a stop twenty yards away from her, his eyes staring her down.

“Oh, I got alla help I need,” she said as she patted the pair of Colts that rest on her hips. Her voice held a brash confidence that Dorval could easily recognize. “Way I hear things, this has been a long time comin' fer you.”

“Indeed it has,” he replied quietly. “Sheriff always come inta town with dreams o' keepin' the peace. What he don't understan' is the peace always been here. I keep the peace. I set the laws. I am the king o' this here territory.”

“Settin' yerself up fer a mighty big fall, Dorval,” Shani called out, her voice echoing in the now empty street. Shopkeepers busily locked their door and boarded the windows, knowing full well what was about to happen. “Talk like thet draws all sorts o' nasty lookin' ta take ya out.”

“Whyn't we just get this started,” Dorval sneered as his hands rested lightly on his six guns. Shani nodded and positioned herself as her eyes stared down the gunman. The air grew still, and even the birds stopped their chirping as though they too knew what was about to happen. No one wanted to get in the way of this fight. Huddled in the safety of the surrounding buildings, some people prayed, hoping that this constant fight of chaos would today finally end.

The silence was broken. Not by a gun shot, but by breaking glass. Ming had found a target in the upper floors of the boarding house. The gunman was easily taken care of, as the cowboy's body broke through the window violently. Ming walked onto the balcony with confidence as he stood over the unconscious form of the would be assassin. Dorval glared as he realized that his plan was slowly starting to unravel. That became more of a confirmation as a shot gun blast sounded out. A wounded cowboy stumbled out into the street and fell to the ground. Walker strode slowly up to the man as he loaded the double barrel shotgun and stared at the wounded cowboy.

Dorval was growing uneasy. His plan was completely and utterly ruined. He only had one hope, and those were the men he'd ordered to position themselves on the rooftops. But even they would not be able to assist.

Gun shots rang out, one man fell from the rooftop to the street below. Dorval looked up, seeing the elven bard with a smoking Smith and Wesson in her hand. And she didn't stop. Keen elven eyes spotted the other attackers and flashes from both pistols came to life as the elven songstress cut down the rest of the cowboys with ease. Pania looked down to Dorval on the street with a smirk as the last gunfighter fell to the ground. None of Dorval's men were killed. Wounded, but not killed. “Looks like the fight's gotta be fair, Dorval,” Pania called out. “Guess ye'll 'aveta rely on yer own skill.”

“'Less yer a coward,” Shani added as she smirked toward Dorval. The old cowboy was steamed. His plan was destroyed, and he was mad as hell. To be mad in a gunfight was a big mistake. He reached for his guns, fully expecting to fill Shani with bullets, but found he was just a bit too slow. As his hands reached for the pistols the first of the bullets rained down. Shani was faster than he was, and she was so much more deadly. Her aim was perfect as the shots hit his chest first, filling his with lead. Her last shot struck Dorval dead center in the forehead.

His body seemed to float as it fell back. The windows of the nearby shops began to open as people peeked out. There was a sudden sigh that could be felt, as though a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. The tyrant who had ruled this territory with his own style of justice lay dead in the street.

Shani held up the pistols as she stared at Dorval's body. It was over. Finally over. Slowly, she twirled the now empty six shooters and holstered them. She looked up to Pania's position on the rooftop and offered a smile. Pania replied with a small wave. Ming and Walker gathered up the remaining cowboys and carted them off toward the Sheriff's Office.

It was all finally over.

I Am The Law, Pt. 5

Pania walked into the saloon and shook herself slightly as the rivers of rain water dripped from her duster. The rain had started hard and unexpectedly in the late afternoon, acting as some kind of omen. Shani looked up from the pool table as she was lining up a shoot. Anything to keep her mind busy after what happened this day. Walker leaned against the bar of the saloon and watched the game. He was pensive, having said twice that Joshua wouldn't be gone this long without checking in. Pania walked over to a small wood stove near the entrance of the saloon and warmed her hands as she looked out the window into the rain filled street.

“Rains gonna be 'ere fer a while,” she said aloud, hoping that would break the silence.

“'Least there ain't no thunder,” Shani replied with a small smirk. Pania looked over to the elven gunslinger and smiled softly, knowing exactly what she meant. Her gaze turned back to the window as she watched rivers of rain fall down the window. It seemed so peaceful in a way, yet so violent.

Through the fog of humidity that had steamed up the windows, something was out on the street. Pania could see something swinging in the wind. “Oh gods,” she whispered as she moved to the entrance of the saloon, then out onto the boardwalk without another word. She stared hard at the object that seemed to hang heavily from a large oak tree that grew beside a small church. A distant lightning strike light up the street just enough for her to see it clearly, and she gasped as she finally spoke. “Joshua!”

Shani and Walker didn't have to be told twice. They both moved quickly to the boardwalk in front of the saloon to join Pania. The small elf had already begun to walk into the street, ignoring the rain as it fell around her. Walker and Shani moved right along with her as they drew closer to the body that hung from the tree. Sure enough, it was Joshua.

Walker sneered as he took a deep breath. He was certain he knew who had done this to the young man. It wasn't enough that they shot him up, but they had to hang him in the street too. But he also kept his wits about him, knowing full well what this was really about. “It's a diversion,” he said through clenched teeth. “Dorval's more 'n likely got a coupla his men headin' ta the cells ta bust out Mitch.”

Shani checked her pistols and looked to Pania. The elven bard checked her own, but drew her rapier. “Use the shadows,” she suggested. “Try an' ge' the jump on 'em.” The other two nodded in agreement, as both Shani and Walker drew pistols. The trio snaked along the buildings keeping close to the walls as they tried to blend in. Shani and Pania did it quite well, having been in this situation many a time before. Walker was surprisingly quiet for the size of man he was. Pania watched the streets around the office carefully. She pointed without a word as she saw a shadowy figure near the side of the building.

Dorval's men were not nearly as quiet as the two elves and their human companion. Their attention was fixed on their current work, and they didn't pay much heed to the street. They assumed the rain would keep most people in doors. So neither man heard the small elven bard come up behind them as Shani and Walker moved to flanking positions. Pania raised her rapier and let it touch the jawline of the cowboy she knew to be Gator. “Awful bad weather ta be out like this, aye,” she said calmly as she pushed just a bit, letting the tip of the rapier draw just a bit of blood.

Gator didn't move, but his eyes looked toward the voice. He knew if he turned he was dead. “Ev'nin' Deputy,” he said with a smirk. His partner reached for his pistol, but found the business end of a long barrel pushed against his temple. His hands slowly raised into the air as his eyes looked to Shani. Walker came out from his hiding spot, sawed off shotgun held up and aimed at Gator. “Fancy meetin' ya here.”

“Out fer a stroll?” Pania replied a little too calmly. She pushed back the urge to conjure a small cantrip, and send a lick of flame up his nose. “Bi' rainy fer tha', innit?”

“You boys been sneakin' 'roun' a bit too much,” Shani added quickly as she watched Gator's comrade. “Y'all shoulda stayed at home t'night. But, glad ya could come out. This give me the option ta let y'all give Dorval a message.”

Gator strained his eyes to look toward Shani, his body uncomfortable as he was back against the wall, the tip of the rapier held firm along his jawline. “A message? What message? Thet ya gonna curl up an' die?” He snorted a force laugh but winced as he felt the rapier tip push a bit more. “Alright. Wha's the message?”

“T'morrah,” Shani hissed. “Six o'clock tomorrah night. Dorval meets me here, out in the street.” Both Pania and Walker looked to Shani with some caution in their eyes. They both knew when someone was being called out. And that was just what Shani was doing now. “We end this once an' fer all.” She pulled away from Gator's comrade and motioned for him to move. “Jist me an' Dorval,” Shani repeated as she motioned for Pania to step back. The elven bard took a step away from Gator and the cowboy moved forward slowly.

“Dorval's gonna gun you down, girl,” Gator sneered.

Shani drew her other Colt and held it firm as she aimed it at Gator's head. “Dorval ain't gonna do nuthin' ifn I shoot ya right here. Now git!” The trio watched as the two cowboys walked slowly to their horses and rode out of town. Pania and Walker looked to Shani for a moment. The elven gunslinger took a long, deep breath. “Please tell me I didn't jist do somethin' stupid.”

Walker studied the woman for a moment before speaking. “Ya think ya kin take Dorval?”

Shani looked over to the old soldier and slowly nodded. “I like ta think thet my braggin' is more 'n jist bravado. I jist gotta b'lieve I'm better 'n he is.” She turned toward the saloon and slowly began to trudge back. Walker and Pania quickly followed pace. “We needa come up with a plan,” Shani finally said as she entered the saloon. “Dorval ain't stupid, he's more 'n likely gonna try an' pull the wool over my eyes an' have his men set up ta take me out.”

“If I were Dorval, that's what I'd do,” Walker agreed with a slow nod as he put his shotgun in a wooden gun rack. “Probably from the rooftops, alleyways. You called him out, means he's gonna send word where the fight's gonna take place. An' he'll be cocky, pick some place where ev'ryone can see.” He moved to the bar and took up his position he held previously. “He'll wanna make an example o' ya.”

“Thet's what I'm gunnin' fer,” Shani replied as she leaned against the pool table. “Panny. Kin ya check an' see if Ming's over at the church. Git 'im an' bring 'im here.” Pania nodded quickly as Walker just watched the elven gunslinger for a moment. A smile came to his face as he saw the wheels turn in her head. “I got me a goddamned plan.”

*****

The rain had let up just a bit as Gator and his comrade rode back into the ranch. Dorval furrowed his brow as he noted the lack of two extra riders. He moved forward on the porch of the ranch house and leaned against one of the posts. “Where's Mitch?” he called out as the two cowboys carefully tied their horses to the hitching posts in the horse shelter.

“Sheriff got ta us first,” he admitted with some regret. “Got a message fer ya.”

Dorval pushed himself away from the post and took a step onto the ground in front of the porch. He looked to Gator with intense eyes. “Wennemein's got a message for me? Really? Well, I hope it involves her curlin' up under a rock an' dyin'.”

“She's callin' ya out,” Gator said quickly. He knew Dorval was not one to mince words, and like his information plain and simple. “Gun fight t'morrow ev'nin' at six o'clock.”

Dorval snickered as he moved forward a couple of steps and looked toward the town site. “Well, that is interestin'. She wants ta die that badly, huh. Well, I see no reason not ta oblige her.” He turned slowly to Gator and smiled. “Gather the boys. We got some plannin' ta do. I'll pick the spot an' you send word ta Wennemein. An' after I take her out, deal with that Alow an' Walker too. Getting' rid o' him has been a long time comin'. An' now is just the right time for him ta be put six foot unde

I Am The Law, Pt. 4

The casket closed on Cole's body as the remaining gunslingers stood by solemnly. No one said any words as the very private ceremony took place. Ming bowed his head in quiet prayer for the man he had never known, but obviously a man who tried to uphold justice. Walker's expression didn't change much, making him seem that much more hardened due to his age and the things he'd seen. Joshua wept as the casket was peacefully loaded onto a wagon. Cole had been a mentor to him, quite possibly the one man who had helped him after his dreams of success were wiped clean.

Shani and Pania stood by and waited. They neither knew the man well enough, nor could they say any words for him. It was best the things needed were left up to his friends. Shani looked toward Walker as he limped along the boardwalk, placing his stetson squarely on his head. If anyone would be the best to tell Cole's wife, it would be Walker.

“I'll take Joshua with me,” he said to the two elves. “Tell Mary Anne 'bout what happened. Probably be a better part o' the day.” Shani nodded solemnly as the old gunslinger limped over to his horse. Joshua slowly mounted his own as the pair readied themselves for the journey to Cole's old homestead. The wagon would follow, and it would be there that Cole would be laid to rest.

Ming had moved on, staying in his stoic manner of little words, as he went to the church to see about the children. Leaving Pania and Shani behind to contemplate the events that had happened so recently. The pair moved back into the Sheriff's office where they had secured Mitch and one of his comrades. Both were passed out, the effects of the alcohol finally taking its toll on the men. Pania could only sigh as she looked to the cages.

“I could ride out there,” Pania suggested in a quiet tone. “Ride out there an' rain fire on 'em. End this once an' fer all.”

Shani looked up with a scowl on her face. “Ya ever hear o' somethin' called the Salem Witch trials?” She paused long enough for the elven bard to acknowledge with a nod, but even Pania knew where this was going. “Ya start flingin' magic in a place like this, we both gonna git strung up, Sheriff's star 'r no. I mean, it's a dang miracle thet they ain't done thet b'cause o' what we look like. Ya add a massive fire ball inta it, an' we kin kiss our butts good bye.” Shani sighed deeply as she stopped her rant, knowing that her voice had raised just a bit. She wasn't mad at Pania, but mad at the situation. Part of her would have ridden right out there to that ranch and help Pania in any way she could. “Sorry. But we gotta play this the ol' fashioned way.”

“There's gonna be a lotta gun play,” Pania said with a somber look in her eyes. “Isna there?”

Shani nodded her head slowly. “Gonna be ready fer it?”

Pania snorted a weak laugh and finally nodded in reply. “Aye, I'll be ready fer it. An' if anyone gets too close, I've always go' me rapier. Diff'rent in this place, bu' at least it's no' magic.” Shani finally smiled for the first time since Joshua told them about Cole. It was somewhat forced, but at least she could allow herself to do so, knowing that she had Pania on her side.

*****

Cole was his only friend.

At least, that's how he felt. Joshua had known no other that had seemingly sacrificed everything in order to help out someone that he barely knew. And for that, Joshua was eternally grateful. But now, Cole was dead. Killed by men in a drunken rage because Cole was interrupting their fun. The Cantons always looked at things in a more selfish light. But it had to stop now. It didn't matter that there was a new sheriff. Each sheriff always looked at things the same way. Analyze the situation, and go from there. More often than not, they ended up dead, beaten, scared or worse.

But now Joshua was going to end it, once and for all.

He left the homestead alone, not saying a word to anyone. Not even to Mary Anne, whom he felt the worst for. Joshua just got on his horse and seemingly rode aimlessly. His aimless riding took him directly to the doorstep of the Canton ranch. He was alone, as he faced eight riders, including Dorval himself. Joshua could see more men at the main house, in his grief he ignored the fact that they wore blue uniforms.

“Deputy Clemens,” Dorval shouted out as Joshua brought his horse to a stop. “What brings you out this way? Sheriff Wennemein send you out here.”

“No,” Joshua replied in a shaky voice that betrayed his own fear. But something deep inside overrode any fear he felt. Vengeance. “I'm here ta let you know, just how bad Mitch shot up Cole.”

Dorval chuckled a bit as he heard the quavering in Joshua's voice. “Well, that's just too bad, Clemens. I heard that Cole got in the way an' took a bad hit at the wrong time.” He shrugged lightly as his hands remained lightly tapping the saddle horn. “Pity, really.”

“Pity!” Joshua shouted back. “What your men done was pure evil, Dorval. One day, yer gonna rot in hell b'cause o' the things you done.” Without thought for his own safety, without consideration of the consequences, Joshua reached for his pistols. He would never get the chance to draw as the bullets from Dorval's men ripped into him. Joshua's body fell with an unceremonious thud to the ground.

“Well, that's a fine mess,” Dorval said with a mild chuckle as he steered his horse back toward the main house. His men split off, one group to deal with Joshua, the other continuing a patrol of the property. Dorval never liked to fight, to be honest. But when push came to shove, he always had his men to back him.

“Dorval!” the familiar voice of Captain Williams called out. Dorval could see the other soldiers mounting their horses. “I will not stand for the shooting of a peace officer.”

Dorval sighed and shook his head as he leaned back in the saddle. “You don't get it, do ya, Captain. I am the peace 'round here. I am the law in these parts. This is my town, an' my place. Them that wanna play sheriff gotta understand ta play by my rules.”

“And that includes killing a sheriff's deputy?” Williams replied in disgust. “I am hunting Alow and Wennemein. But I won't require your assistance in this matter. I'm taking my men north. Should those two decide to return north, then I will pick up the trail again.” He strode over to his horse and mounted it quickly. “But I will not be part of a slaughter like this.”

“That's too bad,” Dorval called out as Williams ordered his men forward. He smiled ever so slightly and shouted as Williams and his men began to disappear down the road. “I'll tell ya what, I'll send their bodies ta Washington in a day 'r two. How that sound?” Williams didn't ever respond as he and his men continued to move forward. “Gator,” Dorval called out to one of his faithful. “Find out 'bout Mitch. We're gonna have ta get 'im back. This encounter has given us a good way ta send a message.

*****

Shani watched as the doctor patched up Mitch and his comrade, her hand always close to her long barrel Colt. Pania remained close as well, hoping that her suggestion of medical care for the gunslingers was not a mistake. At first, she was going to offer it, but gave into Shani's demand that they bring in the town doctor. Shani was not going to let a monster like Mitch anywhere near Pania.

J.C. walked back into the sheriff's office in a somber mood. He'd seen Joshua ride off, but had no idea where he went. He face showed lines of worry, but he was not one to go off half cocked chasing something he couldn't understand. His attitude was one of a waiting game, unless the situation called for much more drastic measures. In the past, he'd found that waiting and observing would bring the best results.

He walked up to Shani and spoke in a quiet voice. “Dorval's gonna send someone ta get him outta here.” Shani looked up to Walker and nodded in reply. She knew, she was expecting it. “Gonna have ta see what happens. Probably gonna try somethin' t'night.”

Mitch continued to glare at Shani and Pania in turns, smirking as he barely heard Walker's words. It didn't matter if they were prepared, they'd be dead by morning. Dorval was one tough customer. The small group continued to talk amongst themselves, watching Mitch as they did to ensure he didn't get any bright ideas. As the doctor finished his work, they shackled Mitch up and put him back in the cell. He wanted so badly to say something to put their minds in an uneasy situation. He could feel something coming to the surface. But he'd never get the chance.

The door to the office opened quickly as a soldier in a blue uniform entered. Walker seemed to grimace a bit at the sight of the uniform, but made no move. Shani and Pania recognized who it was immediately. Private Johnson, one of Williams men. “Pania Alow, Shani Wennemein,” he said politely, even so far as to tip his hat. “Captain Williams sent me. We were in the area, but are returning north. You two have amnesty here, as long as you remain in the Confederacy, Williams said he will not give chase.” The two elves seemed to breath a sigh of relief with the news. “However, should you decide to return north, he will give chase again.”

“Why the news, Johnson?” Pania inquire quietly. “No' sayin' it's no' 'ppreciated, mind ye.”

Johnson looked toward the elven bard a moment before he continued. He remembered the chase, and remembered that Pania had him dead to rights. But she didn't kill him. Maybe the wanted posters embellished the events of Pale Rider's past, and in a way, he grew to respect her. “Dorval's men killed a deputy by his ranch. We were going to enlist their aid in capturing you two, but not after that.”

“Deputy!” Shani said with some shock. She looked to Walker and Pania and each of them realized who Johnson meant. Joshua. Shani sneered as she spoke through clenched teeth. “Thank ya fer the information, Johnson. 'Least it give us some warnin'.” She tipped her hat as Johnson left the office, then turned to Mitch and gave him a sneer. “Y'all have no idea how much yer boss is gonna pay.”

“Oh, I ain't gotta worry 'bout nuthin', little girl,” Mitch sneered right back. “Come this time t'morrah, yer all gonna be sit feet under. You have my word on that.”

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.”

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.