WOLVERINE'S WORLD - THE HERO
There wasn't much to Cats Kill. It had a pair of docks, a few dozen houses and huts, a water-powered lumber-mill, a tiny marketplace, and a wooden palisade. Huge piles of lumber - cut and dressed - were piled on the docks and in empty lots adjacent to the river bank. A scatter of small farms abutted the village.
Cats Kill made Alban look like a gigantic city.
Rather than staying in town, I'd assumed that the three of us would camp for a few days while waiting to see how long repairs to the boat would take. Camping is my normal practice.
"We should stay at the inn," Emma suggested.
I frowned in surprise. "Aren't you the one who's always concerned about money? There are some woods about a mile up-river that look promising."
Emma glanced at Rahne. She and David were on the other side of the market square, examining some fine fabrics. The Folk woman tending the stall probably knew she wouldn't be making a sale, but seemed to enjoy talking about the finer points of her wares with a pair of curious youngsters.
I shook my head. "Oh. That."
"You're the one who said they could see each other," Emma pointed out with a sigh. "It wouldn't be fair to now keep them apart."
That was precisely why a seeker normally keeps his distance from others. I'm supposed to be serving the will of the Old One - not dealing with the vagaries of young romance.
"Two nights at the inn," Emma suggested. "Rahne can spend her time with David. You and I can spend our time in a warm and comfortable bed. After that, we can go find you a nice cave."
I gave Emma a long look.
"I find it disturbing just how good you are at using your sexuality to manipulate an old man," I told her.
Emma shrugged. "You're not that old. Bedding you has been a satisfying experience."
"So you say," I replied. I wondered if Emma knew how old I really was. Although she was a telepath, the priestesses of the Lady of Fire have a code of ethics. They swear not to use the gifts of Lady Grey lightly.
But Emma was also a member of the Graymalkin - and they have a somewhat different set of rules.
Then, in mid-banter, I caught a familiar scent. At the same time, there was a disturbance on the far side of the market.
A woman in reddish-purple leather armor was limping down the path that lead to the market. She was using a broken tree-limb as a staff. From her other hand dangled an oddly-designed helmet. And her armor was wet with blood.
I suddenly felt empty inside. Then I took off at a dead run towards the woman.
The woman's face had the pallor of someone who'd lost a lot of blood. Her armor had been rent in several places and there were a pair of parallel slash marks across the side of her face. I was amazed that she was still on her feet.
It had been a good three years since the last time I'd seen her.
"Uncle Jimmy?" she said wonderingly before collapsing into my arms.
"Save her," I said as I carefully placed the injured woman onto a steel-frame cot.
I could hear the desperation in my words.
The local doctor was an elderly Folk woman. Like most of her kind, she mixed the talents of an herbalist and a physician. The Blood don't have a lot of use for medicine. The Folk and Wilder, on the other hand, always seem to need medical help.
The doctor didn't even blink despite that fact I'd kicked open the door to her infirmary and walked inside with a half-dead woman in my arms. Instead, she yanked open the injured woman's armor, quickly cut away the cotton under-padding, and began examining her wounds.
I looked away. It wasn't the injuries that bothered me. I'd first known the woman on the table as a little girl. A part of me would always think of her that way.
The doctor began putting together the components for a healing spell. I breathed a sigh of relief. She had been trained as a healer mage in Greenwich Village. The injured woman's chances of survival had just increased dramatically.
Emma carefully took my arm. "We should leave," she said to me.
I didn't move.
"We're in the way," Emma told me quietly. "We have to let the doctor do her job."
That did it. I turned on my heel and we left the building.
In front of the infirmary there was a place where family and friends could wait. It consisted of a wooden overhang that sheltered a simple table and a crude pair of benches. There was also a stone fire-pit. Emma built a small fire and then brewed some tea - she kept a small kettle and a pair of tin cups in her pack. They were cleverly designed so that they nestled together.
"Who is she?" Emma asked as she put a cup in front of me.
"Her name is Rose," I responded distractedly. I was keeping my eyes on the road.
Emma raised an eyebrow at me. "Rose? Wait... that armor... You mean she's the Rose?"
I nodded.
"Is she an old lover?" Emma asked, giving me a stunned look.
I suppose I smiled at Emma's mistake, but it quickly vanished. "She's more of a daughter, actually."
Emma blinked in surprise.
"Her mother died in childbirth," I explained. "And her father was killed in the Longisle rebellion. I followed the signs and found her wandering the streets of Nyack. She stayed with me for five years - I gave up on being a seeker for that time. But eventually the Old One called me back to his service. Fortunately, by then I'd made the acquaintance of a family of elves. They agreed to take her in."
I paused, but I still had my eyes on the road.
"The elves were good people," I continued. "Rose thrived with them."
There was more, but I could not bring myself to tell Emma how I had spent a long night raging at the Old One - cursing him for making me leave Rose behind.
That was too private.
Or maybe it wasn't. Emma put her arms around my shoulders and squeezed gently.
"She has all of these crazy notions," I said softly. "She thinks that Blood, Wilder, Folk, and Scatter can create an equal society where we all live in peace. She wants everyone - even Folk - to have a say in how things are run. She thinks girls should have more of a voice in who they marry, and - like men - be allowed to have more than one husband. She thinks the temple should let men be priests and that land should be bought and sold as well as won in battle or taken from the wilderness. Her list just goes on and on."
"Some of that perhaps makes sense," Emma suggested carefully. "Although the part about male priests is clearly ridiculous and goes against both natural and holy law."
I couldn't help but smile at that.
"And you love her despite that?" Emma asked.
"Maybe I love her because of it," I answered. "When she was a little girl, Rose was always asking questions. She always wanted to know why things were they way they were. And any answer I gave her just resulted in another question."
A group of Blood - a holder and a half-dozen of his samurai - came around a corner and strode towards us. They looked angry, determined, and ready for trouble.
"You better leave," I said to Emma as I got to my feet. "I'm going to kill someone."
I didn't like the looks of either the holder or his samurai. They had the air about them of the kind who respected neither the Old One nor the goddesses. They had no code to guide them - only their own savagery and strength. They were Blood by birth, but Creed by spirit.
The traditions quote the Old One as saying that with great power comes great responsibility. These men would never understand that.
There was a fence around the infirmary - a purely symbolic thing constructed of white-painted boards. I stood at its gate. My staff was propped up against the fence.
In the stories, this would be a fine time for long and dramatic speeches.
"Go away or die," I told the holder.
"Kill him," the holder snarled to his samurai.
That was enough in the way of speeches. Our claws came out.
The three samurai on my right convulsed in sudden agony and froze in place. Emma had apparently not taken my advice to flee.
The three samurai on my left expected me to be distracted by an attack from two sides. They were overconfident and that cost the one in the lead his head. I shoulder-blocked his blood-fountaining body into one of his companions - tangling him up with a corpse that didn't yet know that it was dead.
The last of the left-side samurai actually did a reasonable job of compensating for the changing conditions of the fight, but unfortunately for him I was fighting decades before he was even born. There was a blur of motion on both our parts, and he was left kneeling in the coils of his own guts. Flopping onto his back, he began slowly and agonizingly stuffing them back inside his stomach.
The last of the left-side samurai disentangled himself from his headless comrade and made a clumsy lunge for me. My first slash took his eyes. My second tore open his throat. He collapsed and began drowning in his own blood.
By then, Emma's psychic attack was spent. The other three remaining samurai staggered towards me. They were still reeling from the after-effects of Emma's attack, but they were well-spaced and showing signs of recovery. And their holder had deigned to join them.
I knew what was coming. Two of them would directly engage me, while the other two would slip around me. It was a tactic with a very good chance of success.
Pivoting to the side, I went for the samurai at the near end of their line. If I could stack them up so that they were forced to come at me one at a time...
All I needed was a few seconds.
The holder was wearing a necklace. It was a heavy and gaudy thing made of gold and steel. Quite ugly, actually.
Suddenly, seemingly on its own, the necklace twisted itself into a knot. The holder - his eyes wide with shock - choked as he clutched at it.
Then the necklace compressed itself into a metal ball about the size of my thumbnail.
In a wild spray of blood, the holder's head exploded from his body. The expression on his face did seem quite surprised.
Rose was standing at the door of the infirmary. One hand had a grip on the doorframe and she was using it to keep on her feet. That other hand was clenched in a fist and pointing at what was left of the holder.
The three remaining samurai froze.
The fight was over.
"Get on your knees," I told the three uninjured samurai. I needed them out of my way.
They did as they were told.
I cut away the tangle of flesh and gristle from the throat of the drowning samurai. Then I turned him on his side so his blood wouldn't flow back into his throat. He began breathing again in spasmodic gurgles and gasps.
The samurai I'd gutted was laying on his back, moaning softly. I checked him. His body was trying to heal, but it would be a long and arduous process. Even if he lived, he might never fully recover.
That was all I could do.
"Go away," I told the three kneeling samurai. They fled - not even bothering to gather up their wounded comrades. Truly, they were a credit to their deceased master.
Emma was sitting at the table in the infirmary's front yard. She had a death-grip on her cup of tea and looked like she was trying not to vomit.
Rose was leaning against the doorframe. The doctor was now standing next to her, holding her upright. Rose's injuries were mostly healed - the doctor obviously knew what she was doing - but the spell had obviously taken a great deal out of Rose.
And Rose's armor was hanging open. Very open.
"Hiya, Uncle Jimmy," Rose said dazedly.
"Young lady," I answered sternly, "get back inside and cover yourself."
"Suuure," Rose slurred before letting the doctor escort her back to her cot.
Later that evening, I was having dinner at the inn.
Emma walked in. She had David and Rahne in tow. Both of them looked disheveled and there was hay in their hair and on their clothes. At the sight of them, a ripple of amusement flickered through the staff and customers of the inn.
"How far had it gone?" I asked Emma resignedly.
"We weren't doing anything I haven't seen you and Emma do," Rahne said tartly.
That covered an alarmingly broad array of possibilities. Emma had a wide and exotic range.
I fixed David with a baleful glare. "Remember what I said about your balls?"
David gulped.
"Unless my understanding of biology is wrong," Emma said she sat across from me and stole a slice of potato from my trencher. "There is no way pregnancy could result from what they were doing."
Very well. I'd set my conditions and the younglings were apparently obeying them. I retracted my metaphorical claws and gestured for them to join us. They sat down and the innkeeper's daughter brought more food.
Then Rose walked in the door. She was using my staff to support her, but she looked far better than the last time I'd seen her.
She walked over to us, kissed me on the top of my head, and leaned my staff against my chair. Then she plopped her archaic helmet onto the table.
"Thanks," she said to me.
"Join us," I offered.
David stood up and held a chair for Rose. Rose accepted the gesture gratefully. Maybe David was just making an effort to get on my good side, but if that was the case then he was succeeding.
"I can guess what that was all about," I said to Rose, "but why don't you go ahead and explain?"
Rose sighed. "I heard that some petty holder - the one who's now missing his head - was seriously abusing his people. I decided to investigate. I was asking questions when his samurai jumped me. I'm embarrassed to say that they surprised me. I barely got away in one piece."
Rahne looked at us, her blue eyes ablaze with curiosity. "Did something happen while we... uhm... did something happen?"
I nodded towards Rose. "She fought to defend the weak. I fought to defend her. There were some fatalities, but nobody worth worrying about died."
"Defend the weak?" Rahne asked with a huge grin. "You're like her! Like Rose! The Wilder who defends the defenseless!"
Rose smiled and glanced at me. I kept my face straight. Emma put a hand over her mouth.
"I suppose I'm a little like her," Rose said carefully, her eyes dancing in amusement.
"Have you met her?" Rahne continued eagerly.
"Yes," Rose said wryly.
"Is she as beautiful as they say?" David added quickly.
Rose shook her head. "No. I'd say she's actually a little on the plain side."
"I dispute the use of the word 'plain'," I said flatly. Rose has a rather squarish face and a broad-shouldered build. She's the kind of woman who's often described as 'handsome'.
Rose shook her head. "You're no judge. You've always been a sucker where women are concerned."
I just shrugged. There was no point in arguing. Besides, Rose might well be right about that last part.
"I should be going," Rose said. Her dark eyes met mine.
"Let me walk you to the door," I said. Everyone else was in the middle of their food.
On the front porch of the inn, Rose gave me a long hug.
"I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you," she confessed. "It's been a while."
"It wasn't a coincidence that we met," I told her. "The Old One brought me here. He wanted me to be here for you. I'm grateful to him."
Rose hesitated, but then she nodded. She's a skeptic about such things, but she cares enough about me to not argue about my beliefs.
"Get help," I suggested. "Build a band of like-minded warriors. That might save you from being surprised again."
"That's a thought," she admitted. "I'll consider it."
She kissed me again. I stepped back. She slipped her helmet - with it's odd 'Y' shaped opening - over her head. Then the steel studs spaced all over her armor began to vibrate slightly as a metallic tang filled the air.
Rose vaulted straight up into the sky. There were a multitude of gasps from the people on the street. Flight isn't that common of an ability.
She waved at me and let out a peal of laughter that was like a little girl. It reminded me of a time long ago.
I waved back, wondering if I would ever see her again.
My little Rose.
Rose Lensherr.