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Chapter 1


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#1 Guest_Clovis_*

Posted 10 March 2007 - 02:58 AM

The town of Trademeet, circa CY 1870


“Consarn it, sheriff. I done told ya, there ain’t nothin’ ta worry about!”

“And I’ve told you I’d feel better if you’d have let me let me send a couple of my deputies along with the payroll. All you have is those two hired guns, and I don’t trust them.”

“Them hired guns can shoot better than any other man in the territory, and you know it, sheriff. You just don’t want my boys showing you up, that’s all.”

The sheriff sighed. The damn fool will change his tune the moment one of them is bought off by a more generous paymaster. “It’s your call, Anarg. I can’t make you take my help.”

“Aw, now don’t be that way, Kel” the first man said. “We go back a long way, you and I. You done a lot for me and this town. But maybe now you should take it easy. You’re retiring next week, after all.”

“I haven’t decided on that yet.”

“Haw! Stubborn as always, Kel. Tell you what. Why don’t you come over for supper on Sunday? The missus is making fried chicken and biscuits.”


“I just might at that” smiled the old sheriff, his piercing gaze softened by his smile.

“I’ll tell her to set another place. I’ll see you later, then.”

Keldorn watched Anarg walk off down the dusty street. How life has changed since our days in the cavalry, old friend. You’re one of the richest men in the territory now. You’re also one of the most hated. I hope it was worth it.


It was near sunset, the sky growing ruddy in the west. Keldorn gave his jail keys to his evening deputy and headed across the street to the Three Oaks tavern. It had been more and more familiar a place to him of late.

The regular crowd had grown used to seeing Keldorn there, but a brief hush always fell over the crowd when the town lawman came in. Keldorn ignored it and sat down at the bar.

“Whiskey” he said.

Thumb poured a stiff shot and set it before Keldorn. He downed it and called for another. “Better just leave the bottle, Thumb.” The bartender made a face but set the bottle in front of Keldorn.


A chipper voice piped up next to him. “Yer not gonna drink yourself stupid again tonight, are ya?”

“Ah, hello, Miss Imoen” Keldorn smiled. “I didn’t hear you come up.”

Imoen plopped herself on the stool next to Keldorn and asked Thumb to draw her a sarsaparilla. Keldorn was fond of the young dancing girl. Unlike many of the older girls, she hadn’t compromised her virtue with activities other than dancing. At least Keldorn hoped that was the case. Imoen giggled as the bubbles from her soda tickled her nose.


“You still retiring, Kel-ie?”

“I am, Miss Imoen. Next week.”

“So why are ya spending all your time in here, then? You oughta be happy.”

“Yes, I ought to be…happy.” Keldorn downed his second shot and looked into the glass. “How is that brother of yours, Imoen?”

“Oh, you know, always getting into scrapes up north. He’ll never change. Mama always said he had a bit of the devil in him.”

Keldorn chuckled. “Well, if you were any kind of influence on him, I can imagine so.”

Imoen stuck her tongue out and made a face. “Fine, be that way, ya old grumble-head” she snickered. “I gotta go change for my next number. Take care of yerself, okay?”

“Of course, Imoen.”

As the girl disappeared backstage, Keldorn poured himself another shot.


*



The Umar Hills Trail, about 20 miles east of Trademeet.


“Ardenor, ain’t you finished yet?”

The gunfighter was still behind the Yucca plant, relieving himself.

“Damnit, Ardenor, we got a schedule to keep!”

“Shaddup, you!” Ardenor said, buttoning up his trousers. “I swear, Dax, you worry about the stupidest things. Them yokels ain’t gonna run off if we’re a few hours late with the payroll.”

“Well, maybe not. But they ain’t gonna be happy, neither.”


“So what? As long as we got this” Ardenor said, patting his pistols “they ain’t going to be complaining too loud.”

“You’re impossible” the other gunfighter laughed. “Come on, we better get going.” Dax smacked the coach driver in the back of the head before climbing in. “You there, get a move on!”


From behind a rock the big man could see the stagecoach approach, kicking up dust along the trail. He raised his buffalo rifle adjusting the sights for windage. He drew a bead on the coach driver and placed his finger on the trigger. Suddenly, he frowned, and set the rifle aside. He pulled his mask up and went to his horse.


“When I get to Imnesvale, I’m gonna look up Rose” Ardenor said.

“You and everyone else in the territory” jibed Dax.

Ardenor gave him a baleful look. “That’s not true, you gullywart!”

“O no? Then how come – hey, what’s that?!?”


A lone rider, albeit a very big one, was galloping across the plains after them.

“We’re being ambushed!” shouted Dax.

“Don’t be an idiot. There’s only one man out there. How you gonna do an ambush by yourself?”

“I don’t know but-”

“But nothing. Hand me that carbine. I’ll take care of this idiot.”


Ardenor halted the coach and drew a bead on the charging man. “Oh, Tymora” Ardenor said when he realized who it was chasing after them. Hurriedly he aimed the shot and fired, missing the rider by a good foot.

The rider fired back, winging a piece of the coach near Ardenor’s head. The two gunfighters ducked down in the coach and drew their pistols. Ardenor popped up first and took one inbetween the eyes for his trouble. Dax raised his pistol over his head and fired blindly out the window of the coach. Dax howled in pain as his gun was shot out of his hand.

Dax crawled out of the coach with his hands up. The coach driver was already down, holding up his hands and wetting his pants. Staring down the barrels of a pair of revolvers will do that to a fellah.

Dax looked up to see a big, bald man all in black, a handkerchief around his face. On his shoulder sat a prairie dog, with its own tiny handkerchief around its face.

“Who wants some?” challenged Minsc.


*


Mining settlement of Imnesvale


“Ah, it would seem luck smiles on me again” said Yoshimo, laying down four aces. With a grin he raked in another jackpot of silver and gold coins.

“Five hands straight!” cursed one miner. “It’s the damndest thing I’ve ever seen. Where’d you learn to play poker, Kara-man?”

Yoshimo let the ethnic slur pass, calculating the odds he could fleece the miners for one more pot. Ah, Yoshimo, one mustn’t get greedy, after all.

“Honorable sir, I am just learning the game. I believe I have what you call…”beginner’s luck.”

The miner made a sour face, wondering what he was going to tell his wife.

“I have enjoyed our evening together, honorable sirs, but I must depart” Yoshimo said, adjusting his coin purse. As he did so, several cards fell out of his sleeve.

“What the-” growled the miners.

“Ah, how embarrassing” Yoshimo muttered.

“He’s been cheatin’!” shouted the first miner, kicking over the table and grabbing a chair. He raised the chair and bumrushed Yoshimo.

Yoshimo smoothly whipped out his revolver and shot the miner’s hat off his head. “That was a warning” he told the stunned miner. “The next one will be aimed somewhat lower.”

Yoshimo edged towards the exit, keeping his pistol aimed at the tavern crowd. The barkeep looked at the shotgun under the bar, but thought better of going for it.

When he reached the swinging doors, Yoshimo grinned and gave the miners a slight bow. He ran to his horse and vaulted into the saddle. As he galloped out of town, Yoshimo could hear several dozen very angry miners commenting on his parentage and his mother’s occupation.




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