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. “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.
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