RIDERS ON A STORM

They seemed to appear out of nowhere. Well, that was what Wendell said later. No-one really believed him. It was darker than usual, and everyone was preparing the settlement for the storm. Lightning was already illuminating the horizon.

 Wendell was startled by the sound of nearby horses so much so that he almost dropped his long gun. There they where below the tower, a ragged band of horsemen, clothes stained from travel and, more alarmingly, bristling with weapons. Wendell made a quick count, seven of them.

“What’s your business here?” called Wendell hoping the tremor in his voice wasn’t too bad.

The lead rider looked up, no concern in his reply

“We mean you no harm ,we are travelling to Tim’s barter town. As you can see a storm's coming. We seek shelter 'til it passes.”

Wendell rang the bell summoning Brutally Frank the head man. Brutally was a short man and the climb up to the lookout post was hard for him. Wendell and Brutally exchanged words before he peered over the parapet to see the strangers for himself. What a bunch. The lead rider looked hard, his face impassive, but it was the brace of pistols on his belt that caught Brutally’s eye. The rest looked just as bad, but surely if they wanted to they could have shot their way in by now?

“Ok you can come in but you stay in the tavern, we have over a hundred guns here so we could drop you all quick as a flash.”

The leader nodded but Wendell thought he saw a thin smile on his face. Did he know it was a bluff? Yes they had a hundred guns, but only fifty worked.

The gates where unbarred and the riders began to file in, a shout went up “Stop look at him in the back”, Brutally looked closer.

“Not that! We are not letting a sin eater in. Storm’s bad enough, but not having that as well.”

The riders shifted in their saddles. Wendell could feel the tension in the air, he didn’t want to die.

Their leader, Jacque Dante, wheeled back and began a hushed conversation with the Sin-eater. He cursed their luck, the wish husk had nearly worked.  He didn’t want to leave, they needed shelter. “Well friend what do we do?”

“You go inside, just take my horse, I will camp over there.” Dante followed his friend's gesture to a blasted tree. They had all done worse.

“ You need me outside,  you saw how poor their guard is.”

“ Alright take care friend.”

The Sin-eater watched as his friends disappeared into the walls of the settlement. He did not like the indoors anymore, too many corners, the tree would be fine.

 Wendell went to the tavern when Tom took over as guard. Once inside he took a large flagon of beer and sat down near the strangers sneaking a look over every other sip. They all sat together, like a little island. Everyone else was nervous about the storm. You never knew what one would bring and strangers were always bad news. 

Now he could see them better, he was surprised how different each of them was. He had not noticed the woman, she was very striking in the light, even the scar on her face didn’t make her look any less beautiful, and her collection of knives spoke volumes too! The tall thin man cradling a very long gun, a pilot’s hat on his head. Next to him sat a mountainous black man, his dreadlocks tied back with a colourful ribbon, his weapons within easy reach. Their leader sat talking with a bearded rider, about what Wendell couldn’t hear as at that moment the storm broke.

 Thunder rolled throughout the longest night of Wendell’s life, sometimes so loud his teeth rattled. Some people hid, but through it all the strangers sat calm. Eventually the storm passed the silence was deafening until the ringing of the alarm bell broke the spell.

 Everyone grabbed weapons, and ran to the walls, the riders running up the watch tower steps. Tom looked like he had been swimming, his clothes soaked. Wendell was taken aback by the look on his friend’s face, as he mutely pointed beyond the wall. The scene below was one of carnage, a fierce battle had raged, the storm must have drowned out the sound. From the blasted tree to within a yard of the gate lay the bodies of people Wendell had never seen before. The Sin-eater stood alone among the dead, using a rag torn from one of their uniforms to clean his sword, a look of grim satisfaction on his face. The riders moved on, leaving the settlement in shocked silence. Wendell and the other villagers knew they owed their lives to the Sin-eater....

 

Back ] Home ] Up ] Next ]

 

Chrome-e-mail.gif (16847 bytes)