Author's Note: This was my first fanfic ever written and that was back in 2003 for Creative Writing in college. The assignment was to write something with or about a curse, real or not. This story exists in a few other places on the net but this is a revised and rewritten (though retaining the original storyline)
The Night of the Emperor's Sword
Washington DC
Train
"We have to transport What?!" Artemus Gordon's eyes nearly popped out and he choked on his brandy.
After the last soldier exited the car and the door shut behind him, James West gave an odd look at his partner's reaction to the news and placed an oblong box wrapped in brown paper on the dining table. "The colonel has ordered us to transport the Sword of Xia to San Francisco where it will be shipped back to China." Jim raised his eyebrows in a silent 'and so?'
"Jim, do you know the story behind that sword?" Artemus got up from the divan and tentatively pointed at the box.
West was in the process of shedding his blue pinstriped jacket. "The sword was stolen from the Chinese Emperor around 1400 AD and has been an object of smuggling up until last month when the SS Vermont caught an Indian smuggling ship off the Delaware coast," he recited and took off his blue tie.
"No, no, no, Jim," Gordon moaned and collapsed back onto the divan and sunk his head into his hands. "I'm talkin' about the curse. The curse of the Sword of Xia."
West wore an amused expression and took a seat in the matching upholstered chair, "you don't *really* believe that stuff do you?"
Artemus picked up his snifter and took an uneasy sip, "Well, look what's happened to all of its previous owners."
"Just campfire stories Artie, relax. We'll reach San Francisco fine." Jim sprang up and walked over to the table. He opened the box and carefully unwrapped the sword. "En guarde!" He turned the sword on his partner.
Artemus glanced down at the sword blade hovering by his throat. "Jim, please put that thing away before someone, like me, gets hurt," he pleaded.
West pressed the blade against his finger, testing the blade. The whistle blew and the train jerked and started off on its journey. Jim drew in a sharp breath and hastily put the sword back in its box then grabbed his injured finger.
Artie jumped up and grabbed his partner's hand none too gently. "Let me have a look. You're fine. You've just pricked yourself. Now will you stop foolin' around with that thing and put it away for good?"
West put the lid back on box without further argument.
Near Owatonna, Mn
Except for Jim poking his finger on the sword's blade, the train ride had been rather uneventful and Artemus began to relax a little about having the Sword of Xia in their private railcar. Stretched out on the divan, reading a book and drinking a glass of red wine, he was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe there really wasn't a curse on the sword after all.
Despite slicing his finger on the sword, James West still insisted there was no such thing as a curse and he was trying his luck with a shaving razor.
Suddenly, the wheels locked up and the train skidded to a stop. Artemus was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor, spilling wine on his green smoking jacket and the carpet. He cursed quietly and started mopping up the spilt wine with his handkerchief. Even more colorful cursing emitted from behind him.
"What's the matter Jim?" Gordon sighed as brushed himself off and got up from the floor.
"Cut myself with the razor," Jim replied as he pressed a towel to his chin and used another to soak up the water that had been dumped onto the carpet and had not yet seeped in.
"Go fix yourself up. I'll find out why we stopped." Artemus left the parlor to go talk with the engineer.
West went his bedroom and removed the towel from his chin and saw that the cut had stopped bleeding. Perhaps he should leave sharp pointy things alone for the rest of the trip. He shrugged into his powder blue shirt and dark blue vest then returned to the parlor.
"Hey Jim! I found out why we stopped," Gordon strode back into the parlor car. "The tracks are washed out and we must be the first ones to find out about it. We're going to have to backtrack. I told you that that sword was bad news."
"Come on Artie, we've seen washed out rails before," West walked over to the settee and was about to sit down when the outer door was suddenly thrown open and five masked and armed bandits appeared inside the parlor car.
"Put yer hands up and don't move."
Knowing that they were outgunned and outmanned, the two agents silently simmered as two of the five men ransacked the train. They made out with West's and Gordon's wallets from the desk drawer, several bottles of spirits, and the Sword of Xia. The bandits then made a hasty exit out the door.
As soon as the robbers left the car, West grabbed his pistol and rifle and ran to the stable car. He quickly saddled his horse and went in pursuit of the Sword of Xia. Gordon grabbed the Colt 45 from his gun belt which was hanging on the back of the desk chair. He ran out the door after the bandits, firing in earnest. Gordon managed to use the door as a shield from the gunfire of the robbers and he was able to hit two of the bandits but only one of them fell off his horse while the rest of them made it to the cover of the woods. Gordon crept over to the body with his pistol still raised. The man was still alive, barely.
"Guess I ain't a good bandit if I's got shot," the man coughed. "Here's yer wallet back fer gettin' me." The man shoved one of the wallets into Gordon's hands and exhaled one final breath.
West rode full gallop after the robbers and returned their fire. He passed his partner and the fallen man and chased the remaining bandits into the woods. He lost sight of the bandits and slowed his horse, looking around. Suddenly West got knocked off his horse and he rolled around on the ground with his attacker. He finally got a chance to get up on one knee and delivered an uppercut to the offender. Another man jumped onto West's back and wrapped his arms around the agent's neck. West staggered up onto both feet but fell back to his knees. He whipped the bandit over his head and the guy landed flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him. Another bandit made a running dive at the man, knocking the agent onto his side. West shoulder rolled and ended up on his knees again. He delivered a sharp chop to the attacker between the guy's shoulder blades and the man slumped to the ground. West stood up but immediately collapsed back to the ground and didn't get up this time.
"This place is as good as any to make camp," the leader of the now badly beaten bandits dismounted from his horse.
"Boss, I'm tellin' ya we're bein' followed," the bandit with tell-tale signs of a broken nose said as he dismounted.
"You just don't know the woods good enough, that's your problem. Now all of you half-a-sissies go hunt down some food." The leader set his prisoner's body up against a large oak tree and got started making a fire.
West slowly came to and blinked his eyes rapidly upon feeling the sudden warmth. He noticed that his ankles were bound as well as his wrists.
A figure came out of the trees and entered the camp. The newcomer appeared to be a Russian gypsy.
"Vell, vhat hev ve got here?" The gypsy walked up to the newly started fire. "These voods belong to the Kleuv gypsy family, trespassers hev to pay de penalty."
"What the," the leader stood. "Who are you?"
The gypsy wandered over to West. "I am Pavel of the Kleuv gypsy clan and these are our voods. You are a Cossack, nyet?"
"A what?"
"A bandit on a horse." The gypsy stood West up. "No, you are not a Cossack. You can't even tie a keptive correctly. See? He could slip out of his bonds just like thet."
During the gypsy's speech West hit his elbow against the tree, springing his sleeve knife and cut through his wrist bonds.
"Hey!" The leader made a move toward West but was intercepted by the gypsy.
West worked hastily at his ankle bonds.
The gypsy delivered a solid punch to the ring leader's midsection and then a sharp uppercut to the jaw. "Jim! Grab the sword," the gypsy ordered, dropping his Russian accent.
As soon as West was done with his ropes, he grabbed the Sword of Xia. Gordon grabbed his wallet and the only bottle of whiskey left. The sound of the other bandits approaching was getting louder.
West whistled loudly and his horse trotted over. He mounted his horse and waited for his partner to mount his own horse, which was only a few yards off. The two Secret Service agents galloped off just as the other bandits arrived back at camp with their dinner and found their leader tied up.
Train
"See, I told you that the sword was cursed." Gordon had changed out of his gypsy costume and was applying a wet rag to a nasty gash on the back of his partner's head.
West sat on the settee with his back against one arm and a leg propped up on two pillows with a compress on his ankle. "What are you talking about Artie? We got the sword back didn't we? Ow!" West twisted his head and gave his partner a dirty look then held the rag in place himself.
"Sorry." Gordon rocked back on his heels not looking the least bit sorry. "Maybe that knock on your head has muddled your memory. Allow me to refresh it for you. First, you sliced your finger. Second, the tracks were washed out. Third, I spilled wine all over, fourth, you cut yourself again. Fifth, the sword, our wallets, and our drinks were stolen. Sixth, you got cracked across the back of your head by a shotgun barrel," Gordon counted the mishaps on fingers.
"So that's what hit me," West interrupted.
"Seventh," Gordon continued, "I get my hand burned during my little fight with the bandits. And eighth, since when do you twist your ankle dismounting?"
"There was a hole in the ground that I didn't see because it was covered over with tall grass" West growled at his partner and swung his bandaged foot down off of the divan.
Gordon snorted and his expression was one of disbelief but he wisely didn't comment. Instead he helped his partner onto his feet. Slowly, West pulled away and tried a few steps on his own.
"Better Jim?"
"Yeah, thanks Artie."
Gordon walked over to the desk and pulled out the Sword of Xia. He rolled the blade around in his hand, admiring the workmanship. "You know James; great beauty often hides great evil. I think you of all people would know that."
Fort Collins, Co.
West and Gordon slept soundly in their beds as the train navigated a mountain pass. The sound of the warning whistle awakened Jim. He leapt out of his bed but the train slid and skidded to a harsh stop throwing him against his chest of drawers. West gained his footing and burst into the tiny hallway at the same time as his partner.
Artemus rolled his eyes upon seeing his partner cradling his left arm. "You okay Jim?"
"Yeah, just a bruise," West flexed his arm.
The engineer's mate entered the tiny hallway. He was covered with a light dusting of snow. "There's ice on the track, sirs. Also, a large storm's coming our way. Looks like it's going to turn into a whiteout."
West and Gordon looked at each other.
"I hope the lines aren't down." Gordon hurriedly sat at the desk, pushed the sword aside and started tapping out a message on the telegraph.
"Alex, you and Orrin start battening down the hatches," West orders the engineer's mate.
The agents watched the telegraph intently for three long minutes. Finally, they were rewarded a return message.
Gordon acknowledged the message and rose. "Fort Collins is ten minutes yonder on horseback. The storm's going to hit in half an hour. We're to abandon the train and take shelter at the fort."
West took command of the situation, "Artie, I'm going to help Alex and Orrin get the train boarded up then I'm going to saddle up the horses. You get together anything we might need, including the sword."
Within ten minutes the train was boarded up and the horses loaded with supplies. Jim and Orrin rode West's midnight black steed in the lead and Artemus and Alex followed on Gordon's chestnut. They arrived at Ft. Collins just as the blizzard hit. The general of the Calvary stationed there extended his hospitality to the newcomers. A Lieutenant took their horses to the stable while the engineer and his mate were shown to the barracks with their bundles and West and Gordon were shown into the general's cabin.
"You boys sure are lucky you got here when you did."
"Don't we know it," Gordon said as he warmed himself by the fire.
"President Grant is worried about you two. Wants a report as soon as you got here."
"I'll take care of it Artie," West said as he walked over to the general's telegraph.
"Why thank you Jim," Gordon smiled as he turned his back to the fire. He listened to the brief message being typed out. "That's it? You're not going to tell him about the bandits?"
"We have the sword back don't we? That's all that's important," West smiles coolly.
Gordon's jaw hung and his eyes were large and round, "yeah but…"
"A sword? Oooh, what kind of sword?"
"Gentlemen, let me introduce you to my daughter, Annie. Annie, Mr. West and Mr. Gordon of the Secret Service," the general introduced his daughter who has just walked in on West's and Gordon's little quarrel.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Annie dipped a curtsey. "Oh, my daddy told me you were a comin'. He told me so much about yous that I feel like we're old friends. Now, what's this about a sword?"
The general started to bring his daughter aside, "please excuse her, she has this infatuation with blades."
"Oh, no problem," West smiled and pulled out an oblong box. "This is the Sword of Xia. We're transporting it to San Francisco to be deported back to China."
"Oh, it's beautiful," Annie squealed and grabbed the sword's handle.
"No, this way," West reached around Annie.
Gordon cleared his throat. "General, I need to have a word with you," he pulled the general aside.
As West corrected Annie's handling of the sword, he slowly pulled her into a kiss.
Train
"Ah, underway at last. You know, I can't wait to reach San Francisco and get rid of this sword." Gordon walked over to the desk and opened the box. "Jim! Stop the train!"
West looked up from his newspaper. "Why Artie? Whatever for?"
Gordon looked gravely at his partner. "We've got the wrong sword."
West ordered the train stopped and his hazel eyes went hard. "I know exactly where to find it."
Fort Collins, Co
West rode up to the fort and the fort guards opened the gate and admitted the rider.
The general was out and walked over to greet the agent. "Mr. West, I thought you and Mr. Gordon had left for 'frisco. Is everything all right?"
"Everything's fine General. I've just misplaced something."
"Well, take your time West. I'm sure Annie will be delighted to see you again." The general left to continue his duties, leaving West alone in the middle of the fort.
As if on cue, Annie came wandering outside. Upon seeing Agent West, she stopped short. "Why Mr. West, a pleasure to see you again. Where's Mr. Gordon?"
Jim gave Annie the excuse that he and Artemus had agreed upon. "Oh he couldn't come back with me. He's caught a chill and needs plenty of bed rest."
"I'm sorry, please send him my concern. By the way, what brings you back to this little ol' fort?" Annie smiled and tossed her blond curls.
"I seem to have misplaced something of great value. Perhaps you would help me find it?" West smiles thinly.
Annie turned her back to West, "well, let's go back to my daddy's cabin and see if we can find that lost item."
Alert and ready for trouble, West followed Annie into the cabin.
"So Mr. West, what is this misplaced object we're looking for?"
West crosses his arms and cocked his head, "you know very well what I'm looking for."
"Could this be it, Mr. West?" Annie plucked the Sword of Xia from her collection. Before the agent got a chance to take it away from her, Annie swiped the sword in a quick downward motion, cutting the back of West's hand.
West grabbed his hand in surprise. Suddenly his vision swam and he staggered toward Annie, collapsing to the floor in front of her
A lone Calvary officer rode up to the front gate of Fort Collins and a guard escorted him to the general's office.
"General Forrester! Lieutenant Bernie of the Third Calvary, Sir! Requesting permission to lodge at your fort on my way to the Seventh Calvary, Sir!" The tall blond newcomer saluted.
The general nodded, "permission granted. Show Lieutenant Bernie to the barracks."
The tall blond lieutenant saluted one more time and turned on heel to follow the guard but Annie walked into the general's office. "Ma'am!" The newcomer saluted to Annie.
"At ease Lieutenant," Annie dismissed the officer without a second glance and continued on with her business.
The lieutenant exited the cabin with his escort. "Well, who was that fine young lassie?"
"That was Miss Annie, the general's daughter. Here is your bunk," the guard pointed out an empty bunk and left the lieutenant alone in the barracks.
West awoken to find that he had somehow lost his jacket and vest. He noticed very quickly that his wrists and ankles were handcuffed to the cabin wall. He gave each cuff a tug to find that all four were tight and secure. Annie came into his view, fortified with the Sword of Xia.
"Mr. West, how wonderful of you to come back so I can give you one last fond farewell."
West smiled and cocked his head, "you set this up just to say an elaborate good-bye? You shouldn't have."
"This blade has been dipped in a form of poison; it is no longer the blessed knock out formula from before. Just one scratch and well," Annie rotated the blade in front of him.
"Just be a good boy and stay completely still. I really am quite an accomplished swordswoman."
West looked at her without any expression; there was no anxiety or fear in his face to give Annie any pleasure.
Annie made two quick movements with the sword and both of West's sleeve cuffs fell open. One by one from bottom to top, the buttons popped off of West's shirt until only one button was left, his collar button.
West still seemed unconcerned that there was a sword blade dipped in poison hovering around his very vulnerable neck.
Suddenly the door was thrown open and slammed against the wall. Annie, momentarily startled, scratched West's neck along with taking off the remaining button. West's eyes rolled back and his whole body slumped in its bonds.
The blond lieutenant burst into the room with his pistol drawn. "All right, drop the sword."
Annie complied. "Mr. Gordon. I see you're over your cold."
Gordon ignored the remark, "now, kick it over here." Gordon squatted down to pick up the sword without his eyes leaving Annie or his gun wavering. "Okay, let him down now. No funny stuff." Gordon moved closer to ease his partner down.
"Your untimely interruption has caused Mr. West to be poisoned." Annie commented dispassionately.
Gordon's face showed no concern for his partner. "Now Miss Annie, if you tell me what poison you used and let us leave without incident, we won't press charges." Gordon stuck the Sword of Xia through his gun belt and hoisted his unconscious partner over his shoulder.
Somehow, Artemus was able to slip over to the stable unnoticed and settled his partner over his mare's saddle. Artemus then tied Jim's horse's reins to his saddle horn and then mounted up behind his partner. They left through the back way of the fort and rode back to the train; Jim's horse following his stable-mate obediently.
Artemus gently and efficiently laid his partner's prone body on the settee and washed out the cut on his partner's neck. He felt for a pulse and found one, although weak. He hurried into his lab and grabbed the antidote for the poison, which he had fortunately stocked. Swiftly Artemus returned to his partner and administered the antidote. "Come on Jim, wake up," Artie slapped Jim's cheeks a few times. "James you've got to wake up. You've gotta." Beads of sweat broke out on Gordon's forehead and his eyes were intent on his partner's face. What if he had administered the antidote too late?
Finally, West stirred but didn't open his eyes. "Artie," he asked thickly.
Artemus vigorously rubbed his partner's trembling hands. "I'm right here Jim. Open your eyes for me."
"Cold. Weak," West breathed.
Artemus grabbed the gold embroidered blanket off the back of the divan and draped it over his partner. "Come on James my boy, you've got to open those eyes of yours. You were poisoned."
West slowly opened his eyes and rewarded his partner with a dull hazel gaze.
"Here Jim, try to drink some water," Artemus held a glass to his partner's mouth.
An hour later Artie had coaxed his partner into sipping some chicken broth. Slowly his partner stopped trembling and regained some color.
"You really had me worried there Jimbo," Artemus set the bowl down on the side table after his partner had indicated that he had his fill of broth.
Reminiscences of West's cocky smile hinted at the corners of his mouth, "who me?"
Gordon hesitated for a fraction of a second before delivering a good natured swat to the back of his partner's head before ordering to the train to continue on.
"Thank heavens we're almost there. I can't wait to get rid of this sword and its curse." Gordon complained for the nth time to his partner.
"Artie, there is no such thing as a curse." This time Jim didn't deliver the statement with as much incredulity.
"Well, let's just tally up our mishaps and see shall we?"
Suddenly there was the screeching of breaks and the train jerking to a stop. West, who was crossing the parlor, fell over a dining chair and knocked his head on the table.
Artemus jumped up from the divan as soon as the train completely stopped. "Jim! You okay?"
West held his head slightly dazed. "Yeah, just bumped my head."
Gordon rolled his eyes and let out a sigh through his nose. "Ice that and I'll find out why we stopped *this* time." Gordon headed toward the engine then returned a minute later. "Bridge out ahead."
Sitting on the divan, West held an iced rage to his head and turned toward his partner. "Is there anybody trying to steal the sword this time?"
"No, not yet."
San Francisco
"Well, we finally got rid of the Sword of Xia. I guess you're right Jim, curses don't exist. I've thought over our whole trip. Nothing has happened that we haven't been through before. You know, I kind of got fond of that sword. Didn't you Jim?" Gordon sniffed his brandy and smiled.
Jim gave his partner an incredulous look as he applied a rag to a massive bruise on his arm.