AN: Sorry it's been a while, I wanted to get this out day of Christmas but couldn't quite make the deadline, but enjoy!


Chapter 8

Wolf Above the Furrows

The next morning was but a continual night transition into day for Holo and company, for no one had slept since the previous morning. Many affairs had to be put in order before their departure, namely; the loading and preparing of the provisions, rounding of cattle, tacking of horses and final pay with invoices left behind for any ranch hand willing to return and take what was owed.

They were now left in motion, never ceasing; dreary eyed yet never resting. Holo sat passenger of the wagon with hood drawn above closed eyes whilst rocking under the accord of her own fatigue. Nikiski drove the wagon pulled by Durango's horses (Old Jack and another named Delgo) which could not be arranged without dispute in its own right. Contention seemed their lot in all things.

The only one having the most grievance with the lack of sleep was Emilio who continued to nod off in his saddle until the coup de gra occurred when he lost all control and fell from his mount.

"Oof!" the clatter he made upon the earth caught everyone's ear.

Ranger, who still took it upon himself to monitor the boy closely, leaned over from his own saddle as he gained upon him, grabbed his collar and brought him to his feet with little to no remorse, "Take your mount and continue on." was all he said.

The lad, while pained and embarrassed, went after his mount with the ire of many vexations planted well within his soul, the nature of which repelled his pony as he approached. Halting the caravan, Durango took it upon himself to round off Emilio's evasive mount, scolded him for the manner he used to retrieve it and had him take control properly. The lad bestrode his mount and the party was on the advance once more.

The only element that proved in favor of cooperation were the cattle who never suffered any cow to break formation or steer from the line. This was due mainly in part of the professional skill of Durango and Terrance as cattle drivers.

It was not until mid day when the sun beat upon Holo's eyes directly that she made herself more attuned to the journey.

"Where are we taking the cattle?" said she with an aggravated yawn.

Terrance, seeing his partner too ill dispositioned to answer, responded, "There's a place called Settler's Ranch, about two miles down the road, they buy and trade cattle."

"Will they fetch a fair price?"

"Considering we're only needing to support our little group, even the lowest rates should suffice."

She spared a moment to eye Durango's subtle responses if any. He remained content while bobbing in the saddle, eye dead ahead on the road's end.

Suddenly her senses alerted her to foreign evils lurking about and informed, "I can sense men nearby."
To their immediate left was a climbing hill completely overlaid with trees and bushes save a small clearing atop the apex. It was within that small parting they could see three small figures on horseback plastered against the blue sky looking down on them.

"Don't make any sudden movements." warned Durango while urging the party to continue on.

"Suppose they are of the same ilk as last night?"

"No, they're cattle rustlers." said the observant man.

"They intend to rob us of the cattle?"

"It could be us, it could be another herd that comes by."

"What would be the determining factor?"

Rubbing his stubbled jaw he said, "Bigger herd, fewer bodies."

At that point Durango eased Monty's canter into a stop allowing the others to pass him by. From there, the rustlers could see the lone rider on the trail looking directly at them. He gave them a chilling nod of the hat before the trio turned their mounts around and was soon swallowed up by the hill crest.

Spurring Monty to catch up with the departed party he soon found himself at their sides once more, when Holo inquired as to what it was he had done he responded, "Letting them know we knew they were there."

"Are they a violent lot?"

Shrugging the man replied, "Not usually. Normally, when you have a big herd they ride in and scatter them and round off what they can leaving the drivers to hang on to what they can keep. It's pointless because most cattle here are branded and all drivers need do is report the incident and provide the branding sign. So you can hope for an unbranded cow, or steal branded ones and go way out of the way to a ranch that'll take em' or just hang on to them and not worry about money for food. If you ask me, if you're putting that much effort into it you might as well just make an honest living."

"Well crooks ain't known for their brains." commented Terrance.

Though Holo could no longer sense the danger it did not impede her from looking behind her shoulder to assure the back trail was empty.

Not long after they came upon Settler's Ranch and were noticed far in advance by a ranch hand making ready to open the gate to admit the herd. The cattle's pace quickened, their hooves churning up the already ground down earth with plenty of mooing to sport.

The wagon was parked along the outside fence with only Holo, Terrance and Durango entering the property to negotiate. Hitching at a nearby post, the only word of instruction Durango gave to Holo was, "They know me pretty well, let me do the talking." his attitude clearly being one of distrust.

For the most part, Holo stood under an awning extended from the office and examine the proceedings. Each cow was funneled through a cattle chute, stopped to be measured by a worker, then ushered on to rejoin their herd in a cattle pen.

Terrance decided to join her in which she slaked some curiosity, "They sell by the size yes?"

He flexed his lips, "More by the pound, but they get their estimate from the measurements."

Once the last cow was processed, Holo saw one of the workers hand off a sheet they had recorded their findings on to one of the accountants who began scribbling his own calculations upon it. Once that was complete it was then handed off to the one responsible for negotiating the price.

Holo immediately knew dissatisfaction was afoot when hearing the tone of voice Durango used when given the initial offer.

"That's horse shit." he muttered when looking the estimate over.

The cattle trader smirked, "More bull shit than anything, but that's our offer."

Durango motioned to the cattle he had alleviated, "These are slaughter cows, and this doesn't come close to what they're worth."

The trader nodded, "I'm aware, but each one of these haven't been measured to weigh more than nine hundred pounds."

Going red in the face Durango spat back, "There ain't no way in hell any of em' are a pound under twelve hundred!"

"Not according to our measurements."

"Take em' again."

"I can assure you they have been measured by our most trustworthy staff."
"Fire em' and hire new ones who can do it right."

The cattle trader seemed he was about to have the man thrown off his property when who should arrive but the sweet little Holo who strode up and putting on a magnificent charade to melt the hearts of the most hardened gentlemen.

"What is the matter? I heard arguing and became frightened." she exclaimed to easily ensnare the man with her innocent charm.

The trader immediately became softened to this delicate incarnation of the flesh and replied, "I'm so sorry to have caused you trouble miss. We're just having a bit of a fuss over the negotiations."

Holo looked to the cattle then back at the trader, her eyes wide and innocent, "What is the problem?"

Stifling his nerves Durango informed, "He's bidding us too low claiming the cattle are less than a thousand pounds each."

"What were your expectations?"

"For this lot; at least six hundred silver."

Turning to the trader she asked, "And what are you offering?"

Blushing at the notion that he may have to admit to underselling her acquaintance he responded reservedly, "Two fifty…"
Holo put a hand to her heart ready to faint, "You mean less than half of what we had hoped?! Do my little friends really mean that little to you?!"

In an instant the man attempted amends to appease her heart break, "It's not like that missy, we also tack on certain fees for boarding plus interest, not to mention the season. It's standard business."

Holo held her hands to her heart and pled with all earnest of soul, "Good sir, could you not but lend me your ear for a moment that I may be allowed a small opportunity to convince you to dig but slightly deeper into your pockets?"

Durango rolled his eyes and looked elsewhere while the trader could not in the slightest master his resolve, "Go ahead little missy."

"These cows are good cows, who have been loved, well fed and given every opportunity at a happy living. They have not been neglected in the slightest, their muscles are strong and their sinews bold. They are ready to lay down their lives to feed starving families. The very thought any could be underweight cuts me to the very core!"

She extended her hand towards them, "The eye you have for quality cattle cannot be overstated, you know as well as I that each of them are a happy weight of twelve hundred. Therefore it must not be your eye, but your heart to have you say such a thing!"

Panicking that this young beauty would assume a slight to his character the trader quickly said, "How about four hundred? More than half!"

Holo seemed to have calmed down and replied, "You are very kind good sir to make such an offer. Yet there is more of this herd you should know."

The man seemed all the more intent on listening.

Holo resumed, "These pure creatures are loyal even in the face of peril. Last night, fiends of an unspeakable nature sought to drive them from their home. When we found them, they had all stayed huddled together, not daring to leave a companion behind. Would you dare undersell such loyalty?"

"Four fifty."

Durango was getting redder but remained silent knowing it was for the best.

"You gentleman among scholars,' she praised, 'but they are also resilient. They have been driven through the long hours of the night. Never resting or failing their strides in the slightest. Imagine how much such endurance could be worth!"

"Alright, alright, five hundred but that's as high as I can go."

Holo clutched her heart, "You mean you are unwilling to meet our expectations?"

"I'm sorry missy."

Holo looked up to the sky as if the very angels had fallen from their thrones, "I suppose you are correct.' she said defeated, 'it is that on our way here I had received a terrible fright. Cattle rustlers were watching us from not too afar off. And I dreaded the thought of such a wonderful herd falling to such a terrible fate. I was told great things of this establishment. That you were fair and considerate. But now, at the end of this harrowing journey I learn you are no different than any other business. Oh how my heart aches for goodly men at the front of their ledgers, but my search will be never ending. It pains me to think of other groups coming here with their cattle with the same hopes I had once had. But I suppose the best thing I can do is warn them of how treacherous these roads have become, the risks they may have to endure, and the reality of what the fruits of their labors will really be."

Petrified beyond belief the ranch's reputation was at stake the cattle trader blurted without thinking rationally, "One thousand!"
Holo turned on a dime, stuck out her hand and proclaimed, "Deal!"

The man's heart forced his hand to take hers and they shook on it. It was only then that he realized the colossal errors of his ways when the sweet and innocence Holo was flaunting had transformed into something more sly. But ere it was too late, the deal was sealed with a handshake and could not be undone.

Holo turned around and then said with a foxy sneer before she walked away, "One thousand silver is a bit hefty, would you be a dear and issue some of those in gold coins?"

Then departed before the man could say a word.

The scene ended with Durango being counted out the coinage and handed a bag for the silver portion and a box for the gold. The crew quickly mounted up and where set out to depart leaving the pale cattle trader watching them recede. His employer who had been made aware of the whole transaction, approached him from behind and said, "A word please…"

Holo in the meantime held the box of gold in her lap grinning from ear to ear. Terrance assumed the driver's seat and slapped the reigns. With each shake of the wagon the dense shrills of sliding gold could be heard sifting within the box which only alighted her heart to newfound degrees. What was not in a box was signified in silver pieces collected in a hefty bag which she kept nearby.

After a time Durango rode up putting a hand on the box while rebuking, "Put those away for Pete's sake!"

Perturbed and angered, that he was not showing a glimmer of the gratitude she was owed, she replied back, "Does it trouble you to see me with my spoils?"

He looked around then whispered harshly, "Ain't no one out here got any business knowing how much dough we're rolling. Biggest target on our backs if anything, now stow those away now!"

With a roll of the eyes and a fouled pshaw she set them in the bed under the bonnet, folded her arms and crossed her legs appearing most displeased. It was then that Terrance gave her a slight pat on the shoulder once Stetson pulled far enough away, "Told you he could be a handful."

Ranger, who was trotting closely behind, witnessed the whole exchange and spurred his mount beside Durango's to have a word of opinion of his own, "I understand the troubles such a display may bring,' he started then with a bit more admonition, 'however a softer reproach was in order, all things considered."

Stetson regarded him with a crook of his squinting eyes, "There ain't nothing that lil' lady had done that I couldn't of."

Ranger's heart ignited like a branding iron when considering he knew that Durango knew what he spoke was fallacy, "You argued with and insulted the man. If not for her intervention we would have been left with nothing."

The trail-man swiveled his head hatefully towards the masked warrior, "And whose efforts provided that steed you're riding?"

He then motioned his hand to account for the entire caravan, "The horses too? How 'bout the cattle we forked from profit?"

Ranger was about to hear none of this, "Do not mistake your labors as a means of leverage for the rest of us to put up with your sour disposition!"

Durango shrugged, "Then you'd rather walk?"

Ranger growled under his breathe then spoke soft enough just for him to hear it, "Do not think your presence so a great a barrier that we could not find a means to have all your possessions and be rid of you at the same time."

Stetson bolted his face towards him immediatley, "You threatening me you son of a bitch?"

"I am stating a harsh reality. Only the deserving would interoperate my words as a threat."

Gritting his teeth the enamored man spat back, "Oh yeah, so what then? You'd just take the piss out of me until I got so fed up with your bull shit that I'd wander off and get mauled to death by bear?"

A bolt of hatred struck Ranger like lightning causing him to impulsively snap his hand to his sword as a first response to address that offense. However he cooled his chest and relaxed his grip.

He was not discrete enough for Durango not to notice who commented, "Yeah I know about that little incident because folks round here talk and trust me they got a mouthful for you too."

Ranger hardened his scowl.

"Yeah that's right pilgrim. You ain't so high and mighty that you wouldn't get offed too. You and the wolf are the same, thinking you're so elevated above us lowly men. But lemme tell you something. You and her ain't no better or worse than any other sad sap on the planet. If it weren't that way then you two would've continued on by your lonesomes with no one else being the wiser. Face it partner, you haven't done away with me because you need me. How's that for a barrier?"

Ranger had nothing but ill to say therefore we held back his reigns causing his mount to fall a little further behind Monty.

Holo had overheard the entire exchange and was so conflicted to the brim she stomped her foot slightly and huffed with aggravation. Terrance could only comment, "We don't gotta like each other, just work together."

II

Those engaged in a relative pursuit

Once more our eyes and ears are reacquainted with the old mining town of Valenfurt to where its inhabitants both honest and degenerate roamed the sloppy roads of mud and grit in free commotion. There was only one individual whose presence obtains the right of interest. His name, if at all recalled, was Private Samson, garrison of the Nyohirra city guard and former subordinate of the suspended Lt. Dorian.

The young initiate was not alone, he was in fact a part of a trio consisting of the two corporals Kovalsky and Lydford. Who were formally under the command of the renegade Sgt. Bourgeois, whose current duties were commandeered by the order of Chief Reinhart to bring the man in for a heavy and warm debriefing.

These two were currently absent from view who, before their departure, tasked the private with the watering and monitoring of their steeds at a trough. They, seeing themselves the most seasoned of company, delegated the roles of questioning bystanders to themselves leaving the young man to the lesser of obligations.

What led them to this town, of which many a familiar character had passed through in recent days, was the guidance from the young granddaughter of the well worn but kindly Radovan Tenbrooke, who informed the men of Bourgeois' escort from her small village to Valenfurt with the old man.

The sun was coming at dusk whilst the young private allowed the horses to drink and swat flies with their tails and step about, overall his life was uneventful at present. In fact, so were all of the ventures of said company whose impact upon our story was, during the moments of their accountings, so uneventful they were nearly forgotten. Why reintroduce them now? Because future events are about to unfold, and there is a role for each member of this tale to fulfill.

It was not until the steed in the middle, having its fill of drink and finding its current state so monotonous that it began to muzzle upon the face of the one to its left which warranted a small nip to keep it at bay, is when Lydford was seen making his return. At this point the two horses were engaged in a biting-fest forcing the private to clack their shanks with a snap of their reigns to keep them in line.

As Lydford drew near enough to be within ear shot Samson asked, "Find anything?"

The forlorn corporal answered while shielding his eyes, "Drunks, gamblers and harlots."

Wincing his eyes and sharing the frustration the private made an addending inquiry, "Find anything about Bourgeois?"

Lydford's eyes perked slightly, "Not on him but…"
His words were cut short by Kovalsky making a hasty advance towards them.

Once he had closed the gap between them he said with hopeful sternest in his voice, "I just talked to the bartender at the Golden Nugget, he confirmed Bourgeois came through here,' then pointing to a road that birthed at an egress of the outskirts of town said, 'and took the road up here. Apparently there's a small shack on the hill top."

Lydford traded glances between the triangle they formed and suggested, "Maybe he's hiding out up there?"

"Only one way to find out." concluded the other.

Their horse's muzzles were then lifted from the water, their saddles compressed under their weight, and their hooves made way for the small road. Once free of the city limits they spurred their mounts into a cantor as common courtesy permitted.

They bounced and bobbed up the trail eagerly, hoping their sergeant would be present at journey's end. Alas at the crown of the vegetated hill the shack came into view immediatley when the trail leveled out from its incline. Kovalsky and Lydford immediatley dismounted before their horses completely stopped and handed the reigns to Sampson so that they may not wander.

Once admitting themselves within the shack they found, to their dismay, it to be empty. Yet the message on the wall written in days old blood was of peculiar interest.

Can the warrior still conceal the fight

Can the wolf withhold the bark yet yield the bite?

Kovalsky inquired rhetorically, "What do you suppose this means?"

An emasculated sigh of despair escaped Lydford's throat, "Whatever it is, it's nothing good."

Taking a gander Kovalsky commented upon first glance of the shack's current state, "This place looks ransacked, almost like it got robbed."

Samson's voice, from outside, filled the inner chamber, "Hey, come look at this."

They each quitted the shack and rejoined their underling who kept the horses nearby while also standing before a large patch of dirt that appeared to be dug up recently. The haunting appearance of the patch was that it was at least six feet by four feet.

"Looks like a body was buried here." said Samson observing the limited metrics used for grave digging.

Turning towards his superiors he asked, "You suppose it's…?" 'Bourgeois' he intended to say.

"Not likely,' answered Kovalsky, 'this patch looks like it was a dug up a few days ago judging by the dirt. Philip was seen roaming through here yesterday."

"But if he came up here, what would this shack have of interest for him?"

"Holo and Alden." Lydford replied.

The other two ceased commune amongst each other and set their attention upon him.

Lydford went on to explain, "While we were asking around, I happened across a butcher who mentioned two characters having passed through here recently, who matched Holo and Alden's description. Philip's real purpose in his flight was not to run from us but to catch up with them. This shack has the words 'warrior' and 'wolf' written in the bloody message. It has to be a reference to those two, Philip probably came here to investigate and see where they went to from here."

"And the grave?"

Lydford looked upon the hallowed mound, "Who's to say? An enemy; an ally? Death follows Alden wherever he goes, this is but another tally in his wake."

"But where would Holo and Alden go from here?" asked Samson.

Lydford again answered with sharp acuity, "The butcher mentioned they were going to deliver wine from here to the town of Cross Iron. Philip most likely had gotten the same information and is on his way there now.

Samson began to hand the reigns off to the corporals, "Let us be off then, no time to waist!"

He would have continued situating himself if not for Kovalsky and Lydford making no attempts to set off.

"Sun's getting low." said Kovalsky of which Lydord added, "We make better time with early mornings than late nights."

Kovalsky then motioned to the cabin, "Let's camp here for the night. It'll be nice sleeping under a roof for a change.

In the coming moments the trio had situated for themselves a hospitable abode from the provisions and baggage extracted from their horses. Gathered around the hearth and partaking of the beans and lintels they had prepared, they soon found themselves conversing more deeply upon the personal attachments each held regarding the mission.

They spoke of their personal affiliations with Philip Bourgeois which naturally led them to the night they parted on violent terms.

"I still can't believe he was pushed as far as to try and kill Dorian." commented Kovalsky.

"I do,' came Lydford's lot, 'Dorian's inability to lead effectively would drive even the most disciplined of men to madness."

"If you recall it was not his ineffective leadership, but his supposed connections to this criminal mastermind he was accused of trying to cover up, is what sent him over the brink. His incompetence could have been a ruse in my opinion."

"Are you suggesting that his botched command was his way of enabling Jurgen's hold on Nyhoirra?"

After taking in a spoonful of lentils Kovalsky replied after licking his bottom lip, "Think about it, the murders start happening and Dorian is the first to kibosh Philip's investigation, he nit picks every little formality as to give himself justification to relieve Philip of duty, and when all things come to a head in Dorian's office, and we get the situation under control, Dorian takes a swipe at him without justification."

"Exactly what happened that night?' came the voice of the Sampson.

Lydford sighed, Kovalsky explained, "Bourgeois had become so frantic trying to get to the bottom of this conspiracy and uncover every player involved that he began to suspect Dorian for the reasons I've explained. They had a savage fight in Dorian's office in which Philip had nearly strangled him to death if we had not shown up. Once we intervened we got them separated and ready to do things by the book. But then in an unbelievable act of cowardice, Dorian took a blade and sliced him across the gut. Once we got him subdued and Philip bound up is when the sergeant made his escape. The fact he survived amazes me."

"Did he ever say why?"

Kovalsky could not help but entertain a chuckle, "You worked under Dorian, we thought maybe you could tell us."

"Because the dead can't testify."

Each eye rested on Lydford whose grim face reflecting the amber glow of the hearth perfectly captured his resolve.

They were silent a moment when Sampson asked a question of which he would regret when seeing their reactions, "Did that happen before or after Abruzzio died?"

Both men shuddered with a pang of hideous feelings.

"After…" came the only word of Lydford on the matter.

Sampson observed he created a trespass by shamelessly inquiring a topic most reverent among the comrades and repented of it with modest but humble, "I'm sorry."

There was naught but silence proceeding that.

Finally Kovalsky, the softer of the two, answered him, "Abruzzio confessed to being Jurgen's associate to Philip in the church, the confrontation ended with his throat getting cut."

"Was it Bourgeois?"

Kovalsky winced, "We're not sure what happened. There could have been a struggle, it could have been self inflicted. Only Philip knows."

Lydford then spoke with a tone to end the conversation, "Which is why we need to find him."

He then situated himself upon his mat, "Which is why I say we get some sleep now and wake up all the earlier tomorrow."

The two others, so put off by the abruptness, followed suit.

The night drifted on with little to no intrusion upon their sleep. However one anomaly occurred that would have pierced any peaceful state of mind with malfeasance had they been awake to perceive it. All the crickets and fowls that sing and make active the hours of nocturne suddenly went silent in an instant.

The luminous rectangle on the floorboards from the moonlight gleaming through the window birthed the shadow of a skulking figure rising up then sunk back down with ethereal unease.

The presence drifted with purpose until it floated exactly above the three.

Suddenly, with that supernatural ability within all human beings, Sampson sensed the presence of a phantom and came awake in an instant. He was followed by Kovalsky and Lydford who bolted upright, took hold of their weapons, and scanned the room furiously.

"Was someone else in here?" demanded Lydford.

"I could've sworn it!" Kovalsky replied with unsettled vehemence.

They quickly lit one of their lanterns to conduct a better search of the vicinity. However, despite their persistent efforts to confirm their suspicions, no intruder was found. This did not mean the phantom left no trace, on the contrary, it wanted them to know it was present. For when they returned they found Sampson holding a note he claimed was left between their mats.

All that was written was, "Head East to Badurenz."

III

A Crippling Night

Under that same starry night our band of dysfunctional heroes had their wagon parked and horses tied off around a modest campfire fuming in the woods off the beaten path. Most if not all among them were taking advantage of the searing flames by warming the kettle for a modest stew. Once every ingredient had been brought up to proper temperature and simmering bowls were divvied out.

When Ranger received his portion he departed into the darkness so he may eat in solace but that was not the only anomaly to occur. The only one not in possession of something to eat was Holo who normally would have been the first one with spoon in hand. Agatha, who was mobile enough with crutches, eventually noticed it. Serving up a bowl she presented it to Holo who did not notice.

Shaking it a few times Agatha urged, "Here."

Alas the she wolf came alert and took it with sluggish endeavor, "Oh yes, thank you."

Agatha's eyebrow twinged slightly, then the sounds of Nikiski groaning took her senses, "Oh right, wait a wee moment!" she urged.

Agatha hobbled to her knapsack and retrieved a small paper wax envelope of which she poured out a stream of white powder into a mug which she filled with water and stirred. Once preparations were complete it was handed to Nikiski who drank it slowly.

Emilio had taken an interest in what he witnessed thus inquiring, "Is he alright?"

Agatha kept an arm round Nikiski's shoulder and answered for him as he drank, "Aye, his gullet was badly hurt many years back and digesting food causes im' a great deal of grief. This stuff helps ease the pain."

"What happened to him?" asked the boy innocently but ignorant of the concept that the details were intentionally undivulged.

Doc was not too afar off and within ear shot to simply say, "He was forced to ingest a type of acidic poison some time back. It completely burned up all the soft tissue of his vocal cords and upper gastro intestinal tract."

The boy nodded, "Is that why he can't talk?"

Doc nodded, "Most of the damage is permanent and ingestion can be excruciating. The most I can do is give him something to numb the pain."

"What do you give him?"

"It's commonly known as nimbus powder and must be given in strongly regulated dosages. You don't want to see what happens to men who get hooked on the stuff."

"What about the wolf shaman Nazani? Couldn't he heal him, or what about that elixir he gave us?" the boy was more optimistic and outwardly thinking that took to Doc's fancy.

"We had tried that option,' replied the physician, 'It helped, but there are limits to what Nazani can do. Many factors dictate the level of recovery; what tissue and organ was damaged, to what extend, for how long, even to the age of sufferer."

"So Aric had too many of these factor to give him a full recovery?"

Doc's eyes perked up as he nodded, "Very good young man."

The boy accepted the praise then asked, "How did he come to ingest poison anyway?"

That is when Durango spoke, not to inform the lad, but to ridicule past loyalties, "Cause your sweet pappy, Jurgen, forced it down his gizzard. I would know, I watched!"

Nikiski lowered his mug so that his eyes could be uncovered. A strong silence engulfed the group. The remaining eye in Durango's skull slid around piercing each of them in the heart.

"You seriously just open up and converse with this kid!? Telling him our history, our secrets and God knows what else?"

Jethro attempted to quell his anger, "I'm sure nothing was meant by it."

"Wake up!' he bellowed, 'He's one of Jurgen's lackeys, the man behind the misery you see before you and y'all just go about it all honkey dory."

"We be not down playing the man's evil deeds." protested Agatha, 'Besides, the lad was a great help when fighting the blood eagles."

"Before or after he took off?"

Emilio defended his honor, "I fled in the moment because they used me as live bait against my will!"

Durango was about to make a rebuttal when Ranger returned coldly, empty bowl in hand, "I also recall being ill prepared for the actual threat the blood eagles posed due to the negligence of the one who sent us after them."

Durango only huffed while wiping his brow and cursed under his breath.

"Perhaps a brief walk will calm your nerves." said Ranger with a tone hinting he wanted the man's presence to begone.

The man shrugged, tossed his bowl out and departed without saying a word more. Nothing more was spoken concerning the encounter. Jethro looked at the empty bowl near Ranger then up at him and commented, "You never drop that mask in front of others, even for eating?"

Ranger lifted his eyes, "That is what I prefer."

"Any specific reason?"

The man said nothing.

"Perhaps he's shy." giggled Agatha.

Jethro could not help but to join in, "Come on friend, there's no judgement here, I'm sure despite what you're thinking, you're incredibly handsome."

Some chuckles and chortles ensued when Doc noticed Holo who had not made a sound nor had she eaten anything, "Holo, are you feeling alright?"

Every eye drifted towards her who lifted her head appearing somewhat tottery, "Oh yes, just a little worse for ware." she then beheld her bowl partaking of her stew in nibbles.

The conversation then went back to Ranger's mask being the focal point of interest.

"Seriously though,' Agatha went on, 'why always keep that chiseled jaw and perky lips behind such a drab exterior?"

Ranger said nothing, he only leaned over to give Kaytaff a scratch between the ears. When he erected himself they expected an answer but he availed them none.

Jethro shrugged, "I say it's because he think he's ugly."

Agatha replied, "Perhaps it's because his face is wanted on every continent."

They turned to Doc and encouraged him to join in.

"Perhaps he's been smacked around so many times that it's the only thing holding his face together."

"Keep guessing." said Ranger who was becoming more disinterested with their dribble.

"What say you Holo?" Agatha called out.

Holo lifted her head up, "Hmm?' then attempting with vigor, "Oh I cannot say. He never told me why, so he shan't tell you either. Honestly I have lost interest to his reasons some time ago."

At that moment Holo's ears suddenly perked then turned her head while Kaytaff whipped up and barked savagely. Ranger grabbed his sword and without further more warning hostile strangers burst onto the scene.

"Ambush!" Jethro yelled while he and the others scrambled to obtain control. The first to receive a swipe of steel was Doc who shielded himself with his hands as the blow came, carving up his palms. Agatha used a crutch to fence off an attack then returned a blow to the groin and knee of her contender. The only one able to subdue the immediate threats was Ranger who had his blade drawn and Kaytaff whose weapons of choice was within his jaws.

As soon as the bandits perceived Ranger to be the most emanate threat their attention turned on him allowing the others to run for their arms.

The first one Ranger contended with was dealt with swift sanguine ease. As the bandit made his attack Ranger rushed inwards, slicing his flank at the intercostal spaces, then as he cleared past him he pivoted around with a downward strike that cut the bandit clean down the spine deep enough to expose vertebrae through drapes of carnage.

Ranger's eyes turned to Emilio who was calling out for help. He beheld the young chap seized from behind in a tight neck lock and getting gored in the flank multiple times from his assailant's dagger.

Ranger was about to intercede but was warded off by another bandit, so he pointed towards the one stabbing Emilio and emitted a sharp whistle.

The boy's savior came in the form of a ferocious black and gold shepherd dog that latched onto the wrist wielding the blade whilst pulling and tearing at the skin with its fangs. The bandit let go of Emilio who fell crying in despair as multiple points in his backside were spewing out crimson through his garments.

"Damned dog!" bellowed the enraged bandit while trying to break free from Kaytaff's unrelenting jaws.

His grievances were cut short when an arrow passed into through his eye coming to rest within his skull. The owner of said projectile was Jethro who at last found his bow and put it to good use.

Ranger at this time was still engaged with the combatant who impeded his attempts to save Emilio. They moved about the fire pit in attempt to position the upper hand when the bandit speared for him. Ranger moved in then, employing his free hand, caught the wrist and hooked under his armpit, spun him around with a hip throw that flung him on top of the fire pit with him screaming to the heavens when he ignited.

The enflamed criminal flailed off the fire and was last seen running into the woods as a human inferno.

Another bandit had caught Ranger off guard yet suddenly collapsed before him with a bolt between his shoulders. Ranger looked up to find Durango, who had joined in, reloading his cross bow.

Finally the chaos met its end. Though it only lasted mere moments, they were eternities for the ones who endured it.

When the scene round the fire met its end cries of terror could be heard from beyond the veil of darkness as other bandits who surrounded the camp, but unseen, were yelling in regards to some massive beast picking them off. Holo was at work.

As the group recovered they were being slowly informed of the full scale of damage wrought on by the attack. First and foremost was to assess the conditions of the injured, Emilio was first, seeing he was the most severely ravaged. As they called for Doc, to their dismay, they found him with both palms cut clean open tucked into his armpits to control the bleeding.

He called for Ottis for assistance and demanded he grab the box of elixirs then ordered for someone to compress Emilio's wounds. When Ottis scavenged the wagon for said elixirs he discovered very grim news.

"The box was overturned and fell to the ground, many of the vials have been broken!"

Doc motioned him over, "Bring what's left."

There was just under a dozen remaining. Doc ordered his hands to be drenched in it.

As Ottis poured the remedy upon the physician's hands, wetted in red, Durango protested, "Shouldn't we ration that out better?"

Doc, in his vehemence yelled back, "How can stitch anyone if my hands are sliced open?!"

He then had two rags soaked in the elixir and wrapped around the slits in his palms which seemed to already by dulling the pain and reducing in grandeur. He then ordered Emilio to be brought into the wagon with a lantern and his medical bag to prevent the boy from bleeding to death. Emilio was taken up and carried to the wagon bed, groaning in agony every step of the way, and placed faced down inside.

Doc looked him over, looked at his hands then to Ottis.

"You will need to stitch him."

"But…" protested the apprentice in full of doubt.

"Listen,' said Doc, 'his wounds are deep enough to have damaged organs and the elixir will not close him up in time at his rate of bleeding, and my hands will need at least another hour before I can safely use them. The boy does not have much time, you must be the one to patch him up."

Ottis appeared willing but frightful of which Doc reassured, "I'm going to be with you every step of the way."

Ottis, though still teetering on the tip of insecurity, nodded and began setting up for the procedure. Then to subtle but welcome alarm, Ranger lifted himself into the back saying, "I am here as well…should you need me."

The young physician's assistant had to shake off his surprise so that he could instruct, "He most likely will squirm, you need to hold him down."

The masked man gave a solemn nod and repositioned himself so that he could pin the boy's shoulders down who whimpered, "Please…don't!"

"You will bleed to death if I do not."

Becoming filled to the brim with fear the young suffering lad pled, "Then let me die! I cannot endure this."

Ranger saw Ottis thread the needle before replying, "Death is the escape that will rob you of the treasures life brings with endurance."

Doc was coaching Ottis in his ear, soon his hand lay on the boy's afflicted back pulling the skin taught.

Ranger placed a knee near the boy's rump and forced his shoulders down with his hands keeping his back straight.

"Ready yourself." said he.

The first wound was crimped closed by Ottis's hand and with the other the needle pierced through the the tender flesh dragging the thread along with it. Immediatley the lad tensed and shook but could not flare out his spasms under Ranger's might.

Emilio squealed and quaked, he bled, he cried, he begged, he endured.

The fuss that ensued drew in a few outsiders, one was Durango who had Terrance clung around his shoulder to support an injured leg who was simply instructed to use some elixir and bandaging to wrap up the injury, and the last was the mighty beast Holo who, after dispatching of some of the bandits on the outskirts, approached to Emilio's screams.

The eyes of the beast narrowed upon the young man who garnered much affection from her and remained motionless as a statue as she observed. Ranger addressed Durango as he fought to keep the boy down.

"Have you an idea of who the attackers were?"

Durango looked around the wagon and said, "Whoever they were they got what they came for. The money is gone!"

"They will not get far." was all Holo said who bound through the woods with such lift that it rocked the wagon.

Jethro came round back to inform, "Stetson, we have another problem."

Durango jumped out the wagon and followed the man to the scene of another incident.

Emilio continued to moan while Doc continued to guide Ottis as he stitched him shut. Ranger, in his own way, took pity on the boy and leaned closer to his ear so he could be heard over the lad's screams.

"Let me tell you story that has always lent me strength in times of distress."

The eye of the shivering boy peered up at him, confused but willing to hear it.

"Once there were two younger brothers of four sons who loved and cherished the ways of their people and their gods. Their two eldest brothers, however, despised the established ways and hardened their hearts to that which was right and true. The gods, when seeing the rebellion in the hearts of the eldest brothers, decreed that the youngest shall be the leaders and rulers over their posterities, a right traditionally reserved for the eldest. This angered the older brothers even more so, to the point that they would attempt to get their younger brothers to forsake their commitments by subjecting them to years of cruelty and torture.

They spoke evil of their parents, calling them visionary soothsayers. When they journeyed in the wilderness they would smite and beat them with sticks, stones and rods. They would tie them up and abandon them to become prey to wild beasts in the wilderness. When the storms came, they would tie them to rocks and masts subjecting them to nature's fury. Yet through it all, the younger brothers did not give in.

They endured their trials and strengthened their resolve, knowing their suffering would prepare them for higher purposes. Especially the youngest brother who suffered the worst of all. In time is tortured body strengthened, his mind and will became that of iron. His fear of death and pain had all but vanished and his commitment to the preservation of the just and innocent became unbreakable. And in the end his trials prepared him to vanquish a near unconquerable foe and save the land from inevitable destruction."

Emilio grunted as the needle passed, "Who…was…he?"

Ranger took a moment of reverence before answering.

"His name…was Rabana."

At this time the final thread was sewn, cut and tied.

Once Ranger let off is when he noticed Holo had already returned and most likely overheard the story. Within her mouth was a dangling burlap sack with a sagging bulge resembling the box of gold and silver that was stolen.

She laid it on the ground and said, "All the bandits are dead."

"Are all the coins accounted for?"

"We will need to count them, but it feels quite hefty and full."

Then looking upon the boy who was layered in blood and sweat asked with guilty indulgence, "How is he?"

Doc looked him over while answering, "He'll most likely live, most of the bleeding has stopped."

"Can we do something for his pain?"

Ottis and Doc exchanged uneasily queer looks with each other then said with great relenting, "We can give him some nimbus powder."

Ottis then began to prepare some powder in a cup when Doc's hand harshly fell on his shoulder, "Give him the absolute minimum of an adult dose and heavily diluted. Heaven knows what this stuff can do to a child."

Ottis then switched out the cup for a larger one, dumped a small bit of powder in it then filled it up to the top.

"Give it to him slowly." ordered Doc.

Emilio was given dosages that he could only slurp on in small increments when Doc told Holo, "Best check up on Jethro and Stetson. He mentioned having another problem, don't know what it could be."

Holo followed the trail of scent to where Jethro and Durango has themselves she found were the two horses used to pull the wagon laying on their sides. Delgo was slain, and Old Jack breathed deeply in agony with an arrow in his ribs parallel to his lung.

The poor faithful horse, due to the hands of man, was sentenced to suffer. Durango was kneeling by his head, one hand gently patting his mien. Every now and then the steed would attempt to lift up but could make it no more than a flex of the body before going prostrate from exhaustion.

"Easy boy, you're alright." Durango soothed stroking his neck.

Jethro looked up towards Holo while informing, "They got the team, but the other horses are unharmed."

Stetson put a hand on his mouth, sighed out his nose and shook his head.

Holo licked the suffering beast and said, "I got the money back."

Durango only nodded, "There's a horse ranch not too far down the line. Monty and Admiral are not good with pulling wagons, we'll need to buy a new team."

Jethro rubbed the back of his neck and asked while fearing the inevitable, "So what can we do about Jack?"

Rubbing his eyes Durango said after an agonizing sigh, "Get me my cross bow."

Jethro departed in peace while Stetson said to the creature, "I'm sorry, I can't help you old man." his voice cracked.

Jack shifted his head in the dirt, heavy breathes pulsed out his bleeding nostrils that began to make crackling sounds.

Stetson grunted and took his crossbow as soon as Jethro returned with it, "His lung is filling with blood, if we don't do this now, he's going to be way more worse for ware."

He came around Jack's front who lifted his head to see where his master was going who came back down and gently laid a hand on his face.

"Oh no, it's okay old man, I'm still here."

The bolt was placed in the center between the horse's eyes and a crack was soon heard. Old Jack's legs shot out in flexing tension and remained locked out. He no longer moved and was no longer breathing.

There was an odd yet prolonged pause between the three.

"This is why…' Durango stated to Holo blindly behind his back, '…we don't just flaunt our good in these lands. You drew too much attention."

Jethro quietly intervened, "This wasn't her fault, it could have been the same cattle rustlers spying on us earlier. It could have been the salesman at the ranch who hired someone to come get the money back for swindling him on the deal. It could have been more lackeys hired by the mayor. But all I know is that we need to get out of these parts. We're marked men and women."

Durango's head turned coldly towards Holo, "You couldn't have smelled or heard them coming sooner? No warning on your part?"

Holo growled, "We have been up for two nights without rest. Even my senses fail me if I am too tired."

Jethro again intervened, "It doesn't matter! Let's get patched up, strip the dead and move along as planned. I'm sorry about the horses Stetson, but you're not the only one whose had to put down the one he cared about!"

Durango arose, brushed himself off and walked back to camp without so much as a grunt. Jethro looked up at Holo, shrugged and soon both returned to camp at their own pace.