Right Side of Justice
Chapter 5 - The Speaking of a Name

The professionals state that it takes fewer muscles to smile than it does to frown. However, they fail to mention gravity and the natural downward pull. Bryne – as Benito found the rough faced man to be called after brief introductions – knew this, or so his face told.

He'd never had a holiday in all his forty-five years and likely would not until he grew too stiff to guide a plow or raise a herd. That would be the way he'd wish to die if it came to that and the Lord Almighty tarried. No use dying in a blaze of fire and glory when one is young, cutting short a lifetime of good labor.

But like any mortal man, their came a limit to patience and longsuffering. To put it mildly, Bryne's range of tolerance stopped at the vandalism and thievery of his own property. He wasn't sure which sin was worse, the destruction of his homestead, or the larceny of his few but sturdy horses.

If he were inclined to look towards the brighter side and let be what was, Bryne could take comfort in knowing his stock were spared from a brutal death – only because of his absence - and he was in not a bad place financially – though in the same breath, not well off either. Hopefully though, it has been brought to the reader's attention by now that Bryne was neither a citizen willing to be abused in the name of politics nor a man of complacency.

It could also be assumed that he was a man prone to abstinence from worldly pleasures, but it should be understood that he was not ignorant of its ways.

Here is where the two stories intertwine. Already it has been told that Legolas, otherwise known as Mateo, was often the gossip of such gatherings for the sharing of the very same 'worldly pleasures', furthermore, no ear could quite block out the tall tales told of Harris' own, genuine phantom. Not even Bryne's.

Since all legends begin with some root in truth – no matter how slender – the same must be applied to those tales 'retold' around a hand of cards. Bryne knew this as well as the next person did.

To continue the narration after this point would be a waste of good words. One can guess quite easily without much strain what happened subsequently. It is enough to say that with a stray, tentative hope, Bryne gathered the few (the three) trusted friends he had and put his question to them. Would they come with him to search out the one who might have the tenacity to take on a hoard of self-serving "legal" scum in the name of justice?

As it is to be guessed, Bryne's three and only friends threw in their hats for the gamble which could quite literally be the biggest risk of their life.

Bryne rode a few paces behind their guide, his attention split between their path and the surroundings. The sun had climbed only slightly higher since their paths crossed. A rare breeze had kicked up, puffing gamely inland from the coast. Still, little respite from the heat came in its wake.

"Whenever any of you lads feel like taking the lead, just plow ahead. Don't mind me."

They were getting nowhere in good time, the mountain looming above them. Bryne narrowed his eyes, casting them towards the peak. "Keep moving, and do keep that smile on your face. I would rather not come to a needless end because of a misunderstanding of intentions."

There was a muffled groan from the Mexican.

---

During the foresaid, a pair of keener eyes tracked the four and Benito's progress.  Legolas crouched in the deepest shadow of the cleft, having also beckoned for Scott to do likewise. Men had such things now in this age that aided them in far seeing. He saw no such tools in the hands of the four accompanying Benito, but he didn't wish to take the chance of being seen.

The rider at the rear lifted up a hand to his face. Out of instinct, Legolas pressed himself deeper into the shadows. But no, he had simply been shading his eyes while staring straight in their general direction. Legolas remained still until the hand fell back to the man's side and his face tipped downward.

Scott shifted on his perch, wincing at the sharp pains of numbness beginning to prick at the back of his legs from the awkward position. From his location he could see nothing but the open land stretching beyond the edges of Harris. It was a quite frustrating place to be in when all he could do was watch Mateo's face for any sign of alarm or relief. A breath of displeasure unsettled the fine dirt near his cheek. "Do you recognize them at all?"

Mateo's eyes flitted over to Scott for a moment in acknowledgement. "Aye, the one leading them is a close confidant of mine."

"Do you suppose he has betrayed you?"
 
Before the thought was finished, Mateo shook his head adamantly. "Betrayal would never be Benito's intent."

His eyebrows peaked at this mention. "Benito, you say? You mean the old man with all the stories that pops in for a drink now and then? Do you think that those fellows have gone and forced him to aid them? Godard's men you think?" Scott failed to notice the slow deliberate look of tried patience.

"Waiting to see always seems to produce the best results in finding answers."

Scott resisted the urge to strangle himself with his own sarcasm.

---

Loose shale bounced down the slope behind them, a small-scale avalanche. Benito leaned his weight forward to relieve some of the backward pull on his toiling horse. He hated shortcuts. They usually allotted little extra time and plenty of discomfort. He would have much rather taken the longer, less difficult route around the slope. That was in his most humble opinion, but as it was, humble opinions didn't count for much when in his position of authority. Pity, that.

The quiet was also beginning to wear on his nerves. Oh, he was quite used to silence, being the only other speaking soul in residence at Mateo's ranch, still, there were many different types of silence – this being one of the unpleasant category. "So, if it so happens that our friend is not at the top of this infernal hill, then where would you suppose he might be?" 

"How should I know?" answered Bryne from the rear in a perturbed voice. "You know him better than I do. Where do you think he'd be?"

Benito slouched forward, falling into a self-righteous sulk. How should I know? He muttered mentally. It's not as if he's the normal sort and it's hardly as if anyone could actually really know that bugger. Very strange, that boy. For all we know, he could be riding amongst us without our being aware of it.

Suddenly self-conscious, Benito craned his neck over his shoulder. No, nothing there, only that sullen faced Bryne and his companions.

His horse waggled his head from side to side, tugging on the reins, bringing Benito's attention back on center. Pulling unhappily, Benito coaxed his equally unhappy horse to bear right as they neared the rocky crown.

Benito gulped. If he be up here, please Lord, don't let him feel overly…vengeful, and shoot us on sight.

---

"Whatever you do, do not fire." Legolas ordered quietly. Scott stared agape. "They would hear it in the town," he explained. Scott still bore a shallow expression, causing Legolas to blow a strained sigh. "They would hear it in the town," he repeated, then added, "bringing our friend Godard's explosive nature down upon us."

Scott's jaw clicked shut with an, "Oh," and a "fine."

After baying the horses to retreat, he motioned with a hand, moving around the rock face that looked down towards Harris. Tipping his head around the corner, he saw the last horse's tail pass from view. Silent upon the loose rocks, Legolas brought them directly behind their pursuers. They were nearly back where they had started. Legolas pressed his back against the warming stone, rifle angled across his chest.

Shale crunched under heavy boots as the rider at the rear dismounted. Voices followed.

"What do you make of it?"
 
The footsteps drew nearer, then withdrew, then returned.

"They've definitely been here - and recently. Their horses went..." the voice trailed off to more footsteps, "…this way." Those still mounted began to follow the one on the ground.

A hoof landed half an arm's reach from his right. Having fallen into a low crouch in the shadow of the stone at his back, the man had but to glance a little downwards and they would be seen – but as it so happened, Fate was in an amiable mood that day. Legolas fervently hoped nothing would occur that would sour that pleasant disposition.

When to act, that was the question. Should they listen longer? Move now? When would it be too late? Legolas' experiences could only help his decision making so much, for each scenario was different. Intuition would be the best dice to trust for the moment – he hoped. 

That same intuition was prompting him to do something in the near future. His hands tightened about the rifle and he swallowed.

"You know," he could hear Benito's voice pipe up from out of sight, "perhaps you should announce yourselves." He coughed, "I don't mean to alarm you boys, but the lad's the type that goes unseen. You understand I'm sure." Benito bobbed his eyebrows and pantomimed, implying that there could be a less than healthy end.

There was a pause in the hoof steps. Legolas saw in his mind the men making eye contact with each other in silent conference. "Fine," was the less than amiable response. The speaker cleared his throat, feet shifting in an uneasy manner. Legolas felt a twinge of amused pity for the leader as there followed furtive whispers of encouragement and suggestions. Knowing the general mindset of the men in these parts, it had to be a terribly discomforting situation. Addressing a "being" – as the rumors had yet to settle on exactly what he, Legolas, was – unseen and unknown to actually be there listening? If that wasn't the stuff town gossip was made of…

Clearing his throat once again, the voice spoke out, never-the-less assured in tone.  "If you be there, Stranger, we come on an errand of good will," he spoke diplomatically, Legolas noted with a faint, subconscious nod of approval- diplomatic to the extent possible for this sort of folk. "So," the speaker went on tentatively, "if you'd come out nice like – if you're there – then we could talk things out face to face."

Legolas felt Scott's eyes on him. The young man was nervous, his finger tapping soundlessly on his thigh. It was a puzzle to Legolas; sometimes Scott seemed so like what he imagined a young, impetuous Aragorn might have been like if raised in this day and age before he had learned that caution was certainly not his enemy, while at other times, he mirrored shockingly Gimli's optimism in regard to battle. Now if only he could teach Scott how to bridle that energy and put it to good use at the opportune moment…

"The horses' tracks lead back 'round the rocks. They probably aren't even here anymore," said a low voice. They had moved out of sight again and from what Legolas could interpret from their speech, the horses had taken to leading them on a merry chase about the hilltop. None could say they weren't clever beasts.  But their ingenuity did have a limit – after all, these were not elvish horses. So 'round the hilltop they did lead, until in full circle they caught up with their riders from behind.  Scott made a motion towards them, working on the perfection of the soundless grunt and turning a pleasant shade of pink. 

Here it was that a fortunate thing happened, although at the time it seemed not so fortunate. While in an effort to persuade the horses to relocate, Scott, partially by intention, stepped far enough from the cover of the rock to catch a clear view of their hunters. In return, the hunters were also given a clear view of Scott.

Legolas had made a grab at Scott, but it was too late.  One with red hair stood up in his saddle, pointed directly at Scott and cried: "You, Tyne!"

Though the reader may well be aware of Scott's positive affiliation with the one named Bryne, learned in earlier discourse, Legolas knew nothing of this, intuitive though he be. Placing himself between Scott and the riders, he challenged them in a clear, commanding voice. "If you come in good will, then here you may prove it."

"Hold on a moment Mateo, they ain't on the baddies' side."  Scott stepped around Legolas, giving his shoulder a condescending pat. "These fellows here are genuine roughers," he said, accentuating the individual syllables in gen-u-ine.

"A merry chase you've lead us on," exclaimed the red headed one. "Made us shanghai this nice old man here, just to find you."

Benito looked peeved, gnawing a knuckle and casting sulphurous looks at the red head. 

The one on the ground approached, admirably wary, regarding Legolas with an appraising eye. "You go in company with Tyne; you're the one who he spoke of?" Legolas nodded. "My name is Bryne. If you've taken to bringing the lawmen to their rightful place, then I'll be glad to follow your lead."

Legolas took the brawny hand, feeling the calluses and scars chaff against his palm. He studied the other's face, looking hard past the exterior. Here was a man in whom he could place infallible trust. Here was a man with the virtues of the ancients of Legolas' age.

Legolas smiled then, a small smile that barely lifted the corners of his mouth, but changed his whole countenance. To his great pleasure, Bryne smiled back.

It was than that Legolas did something he had not dared to do for this world's lifetime.

"I am called Legolas."

TBC…

A/N: Argh, sorry a bushel of times over. I suppose I should try an cover my failure by a tiny excuse. I actually did have this chapter written some time ago, but events just kept getting in the way of posting. That actually makes it worse me thinks. Bah, I don't even give you wonderful folks a longer chapter. Just ended it's self again. And still no action. I stink. Royally. But I'm trying above all else to work some into the next chapter.

James8 – You probably didn't think I'd ever update again after this span. Yeesh. Hopefully you didn't keel over.
Myst – I am so, so, sorry. I don't think I'll ever be able to live up to the "post at least once a week" regime. If only… But yeah, unfortunately, I think I'll have to continue these odd 'modern times' fics with  who knows, Civil War, World Wars, times in between, maybe Legolas work for the mafia, or ends up putting a mafia head out of business. Woo, there's an idea.

Brat64 – I concur, I enjoy throwing in some touches from the Middle-earth we know. I don't want this to totally lose that flavor, and I find those looks back help to remind the reader, or me, that "oh yeah, this is Legolas of the Fellowship we're talking about here."

Tyne has a little angst section in the next chapter. Humorous angst moment, but one none the less, I'll probably add to it – just for you. ;)

Kay – I will do all in my power to finish this. I don't think I could ever forgive myself if I didn't. Now, it may not have the ending that I plan, for lack of patience on my part. Or I may just find myself disgusted with what I've written so far. This could be quite long though if I do go for my original stray thought conception. Whew, just makes me tired thinking about it.

Yavie Aelinel – Breath! Breath! Don't go purple next. Blue is a nice shade.