Disclaimer - I don't own any of the characters from Biker Mice from Mars! Any characters and situations herein are purely fictitious, and any similarity between those and persons living or dead is coincidental :)

I do own my own characters - these are all characters that come from my own work, although I have altered names and occupations slightly so they fit into the real world! I also own The Legacy - unfortunately only on paper but I can dream! :D

Wow! So, finally back to in 2020... Almost 6 years since I last updated! I am actually horrified! Something to be said for lockdown in the UK though... I actually have time to edit and update all the fanfics I've written and get all of them published hopefully! ;) Any way without further ado - new chapters! Enjoy!


Chapter 25 – The Re-enactment Magpie Syndrome

Throttle sighed wistfully as he gazed out of the minibus's window. He and Charley were in the front again; only for this journey the back of the minibus was packed with excited re-enactors rather than luggage. It'd been just over two days since he'd kissed Freda at the monastery ruins. Freda had said nothing further on the incident and was still being an absolute brick over his recurring nightmares. He and Charley had been training with the group on a daily basis, Throttle was amazed at how much there was to learn. Freda shifted down a gear and manoeuvred the minibus over into the motorway's slow lane preparatory to turning off. The strains of Bonnie Dundee assaulted the ears of those travelling in the front seats. Freda grinned, a knowing look on her face as she listened to her friends howling their way through verse and chorus.

"What we singing now?" came Kettle's loud query when the song ended.

"NOT Loch Lomond!" Freda growled from the driver's seat.

"Hey Charley! Throttle!" Tom called forward. "How's about you name the next one?"

"Arrgh!" Charley shot Throttle a look that said she had no clue on song titles.

"Er – Brennan of the Moor?" Throttle suggested after some time trying to remember the title of the song.

"Coolio! Brennan on the Moor it is!" Tom agreed. Hugh hummed a short introduction and Kai began singing the first verse. The chorus was raucous to say the least; Throttle twitched his ears before joining in. Charley stuffed her fingers in her ears; rolling her eyes when she caught Freda's glance.

They rolled into their destination's car park after a two hour drive. Throttle flicked his ears at the sight of hundreds of vehicles already parked up. Freda grinned and tapped her nose knowingly. As the others climbed down from the bus she rummaged behind her seat briefly before drawing out a black medieval hood. Throttle and Charley had already got out of the bus and were stretching their cramped legs. Freda whistled to get the Martian's attention; he turned frowning at the odd shaped bit of black cloth

.

"Here, try this for size." Freda grinned. "Folks turn up in all kinds of weird get ups so you wearing a hood won't be viewed as that odd."

Throttle grinned as he took the hood and pulled it on; the grin broadened to a smile as he realised the hood covered his ears without pinning them to his head, so his hearing wasn't impaired at all. His tail was already tucked into a pair of Kai's combats that he'd borrowed for the day.

"Looks good on you." Charley teased as she admired the hood. The group were crawling into doublets and livery coats showing their group colours; Freda smiled at the sight of the faded, rather worn out red and white clothing. Hugh grinned at Charley, pro-offering a small livery coat to her. Charley's eyebrows rose.

"Oi! Hugh! Did you check that's the one without the blood all over it?" Matti asked as he noted Charley's innocent acceptance of the coat.

"Er – no – I forgot." Hugh admitted sheepishly.

"Uncouth blaggard..." Kettle growled in mock anger. Charley giggled and looked at the coat.

"I think its blood free." She grinned.

"No, it isn't." Ginny pointed to the stain on the front of the coat.

"Oh..." Charley's eyes widened. Freda chuckled and tossed her a blood free coat, taking the bloodied one and tossing it back into the minibus.

"Can I get one?" Throttle asked nervously.

"They're wool, you'll get too hot." Freda looked sceptical.

"Oh." Despite the hood Freda could tell his ears were drooping, she sighed.

"Hugh – where did those linen tabards go?" She asked, leaning into the bus.

"Huh –wha – tabards?" Hugh grunted, half dragging his attention off helping Charley into her livery coat.

"Hold on..." Joey crawled under one of the seats and dragged a box out. "They're here."

Freda rummaged round in the box before finding a bloodless, relatively clean tabard that looked like it would fit Throttle. She tossed the lightweight fabric to him along with a leather belt. Throttle grinned as he slipped the tabard on and used the belt to hold the fabric loosely in place. Freda shoved the box back under the seat, slammed the door and locked the vehicle. Kai led the way across the car park to the large buildings that housed the market's traders. Throttle gave the hood a nervous twitch as they waited in the queue to go in; finally they paid their entrance fees and stepped into re-enactor heaven. Charley couldn't help chuckling at the delighted faces and happy squeaks of excitement.

"Ohhhh shiny!" Matti exclaimed before dragging Joey off in the direction of an armourers stall.

"Annnnd this will be where you discover that all re-enactors are total magpies!" Freda chuckled good-naturedly as she watched the two young fighters drool over the array of armour on display.

"Magpies?" Throttle looked bewildered as the group was dispersed rapidly.

"A type of earth bird that loves shiny objects." Charley chuckled.

"See you guys later!" Hugh called as he and Kai disappeared into the crowd.

"Right, so that leaves us three to trawl as we wish." Freda grinned. "Anywhere you want to start – or you happy to just trot up and down?"

They opted for the slightly more logical option of going up and down each row of stalls. Slowly, as the day wore on, Throttle began to relax more and more around the easy going people who seemed to inhabit the crazy world of re-enactment. Charley was astounded at the amount of items people could and did need for re-enactment. Throttle was just amazed humans had ever had such basic tools. Freda made a number of purchases for the group's kit; as well as getting necessary supplies for herself. Throttle gained two bottles of mead along the way and Charley found herself being given a beautiful maille work necklace that she'd admired. Freda simply smiled and said that a market was no fun if you didn't at least make one purchase. Half way round they spotted Kai and Hugh talking to an acquaintance of theirs. Hugh was holding new weapons as well as several other items. Freda looked suspicious at Kai's lack of purchases; normally he like the other officers in the group would buy necessary items at these markets, and he had stated the need for more hunting knives to be purchased. Freda overlooked her friend's strange behaviour temporarily and happily exhibited the latest addition to her shiny treasure trove; a new cloak pin worked in brass. Her final treat for Charley and Throttle was taking them to meet a friend of hers who was a sword-smith.

"Well, here we are..." Freda grinned. "Why don't you two have look?"

"What?" Charley gasped as she stared at the racks of weaponry arrayed in front of her.

"Which sword do you like?" Freda indicated the weapons. "Preferably a fifteenth century blade, that's the period we do the most."

"Fifteenth century are down here." The sword-smith pointed to a rack. Charley practically skipped over and began weighing the weapons in her hands. Throttle was less sure he liked the idea owing to the fact that Freda had already bought them both presents, but experimentally hefted some of the blades up none the less. His broad smile fell as noted the price on a blade that felt like it had been made for him. Freda winked at her friend as she watched Throttle shuffle off to look at the next stall. The sword-smith snagged the blade Throttle had most liked and packaged it ready for transport. Charley looked at Freda curiously.

"Call it a gift." Freda nodded to the blade in Charley's hands.

"You're not serious?" Charley gaped at her friend.

"Couldn't be more so, sling her up to Ondřej." Freda nodded in the smith's direction. He smiled as he took the blade.

"This is a fine sword – one of the best I make!" He said proudly tapping the blade. "Your friend chose well too – this is one of my best too!"

"You know your trouble Ondřej? They're all your best swords!" Freda chuckled.

"This is why I am good smith." Ondřej grinned wickedly as he handed the package over. Freda gave him a wad of notes and waited as he checked the amount. With a nod and grin he waved goodbye to the two women and cheerfully greeted another customer.

"Do I want to know how much they both cost?" Charley groaned.

"No, because gifts don't have price tags." Freda winked. "Go on... As a thank you for coming with me?"

"Er – Freda? You paid for the plane, the taxis, the petrol – we're staying at your house and eating at your expense?" Charley rolled her eyes.

"And I don't very often get two such polite and charming travelling companions! I take it you have seen the guys from the group? That rabble of drunken mercenaries from a bygone era, who swing through life with outdated, chivalrous notions in their heads? You know the ones who sing very loudly and very, very appallingly?" Freda chuckled.

"Well I guess..." Charley's face reddened in embarrassment.

"So presents for the guys back home?" Freda poked Charley gently with the tip of the package containing the swords.

"Ohhh, well anything explosive for Vinnie – he loves things that go bang." Charley mused. "I dunno on everyone else though."

"I am not buying Vinnie black powder! He's enough of a menace as it is! Have you seen anything that you think they'd like?" Freda looked at Charley.

"Well, we still have another hall to go through, and I'll bet Throttle would be better at guessing than I am!" Charley laughed.

"I'd be better at guessing what?" Throttle reappeared out of the crowd.

"Presents for the guys?" Freda raised her eyebrows. "Suggestions please?"

"Hum..." Throttle looked thoughtful and shrugged. "I'll think on it?"

Freda shook her head at her two friends. She ran back to the minibus with the swords and came tripping back empty handed. She caught up to Throttle and Charley at a leather supplier; apparently any large quantity of real leather was a very rare occurrence on Mars. Throttle looked back wistfully as they left the stall behind; he almost wished he could afford to buy some of the hides to take back home.

Finally they gathered back at the minibus with their combined purchases. Kettle had thoughtfully purchased a variety of food and drink to eat before they hit the road. Charley gave a startled yelp as she spotted what else the lanky polearms Captain had bought.

"What is that?!"

"Huh? Oh... This is a boar spear." Kettle jerked his thumb up at the already hafted beauty. Charley eyed the thing dubiously; Throttle whistled at the sight of the wicked looking metal head. Charley was even more dismayed when she discovered that the weapon head would be at their feet during the drive home.

"Ok – I think I want my life back now..." Charley groaned as she buckled into the minibus's front seat.

"Oh?" Freda looked puzzled as she climbed into the driver's seat.

"Martian mice; Plutarkians; and now re-enactors!" Charley groaned as she watched the boar spear shift at her feet where people kept knocking it.

"You don't like us?" Hugh asked from his seat behind Freda.

"I like you all loads, Hugh, I just really hate this spear!" Charley murmured eying the weapon again. "I know it's silly..."

"No it's not." Freda shook her head. "Some weapons you just end up disliking on sight – take me I can't stand medieval guns. Stupid but true – they terrify me! Kettle, turn this bad boy of yours round, will ya? Charley is not having that ruddy spear under her feet all the way home!"

"Sure thing!" Kettle clattered out of the back. Drawing the spear out, he flipped it up and shoved it back in haft first; the end of the long wooden pole appeared at Charley's feet. The mechanic heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thanks Kettle!" She called.

"No problem!" Kettle chuckled as he climbed back onto the bus and buckled in.

"Right. Are we all here?" Freda asked.

"Yes!" Came the chorus from the back.

"Got everything we wanted?" She checked. Various confirmations floated forward.

"It's like the school bus!" Charley muttered to Throttle, who rolled his eyes.

"Have we all been to the toilet, children?" Freda grinned sideways at Charley who fell into a silent fit of the giggles.

"Chief!" Came the indignant chorused reply.

"Okay! Okay! Strapped in – check. All purchases safely stowed – check. And Kai – I am expecting my whisky and mead to be in its boxes, untouched at the end of the trip." Freda called.

"Got a suspicious mind haven't we?" Kai yawned. "I bought my own mead and I never did like that whisky liquor you guys rave about anyway."

Freda fired up the engine and pulled out of the parking space. Throttle settled himself for a long trip home.


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