The room was much like the bar downstairs, lots of crimson material draped across the walls and there was a small fireplace that was just embers now only the faintness of warmth remained. It didn't matter any more now though the sun was out and it was a hot day outside. Clayton lay in the old cast iron bed, Amber's arm wrapped over his chest. The bed was very well made and he lay comfortably on the feather stuffed mattress.
He pulled her arm off of his chest and laid it comfortably next to her. Sweeping back the sheet he swung his legs out of the bed and sat at the edge. He put his head in his hands and sighed, deeply. He hated the kind of things he did when he was drunk.
Thinking back to his childhood he remembered his time with his father. His father had been a widower most of his life. Clayton never knew his mother, but his father had always taught him to live his life well and to treat all others properly. He grew up in a small town with his father up in northern England. In a a village very different to where he left now. He remembered the greenery fondly, the endless trees and the fields where the village made their living.
Britain had faired reasonably in the aftermath of the resource wars. The bombs had destroyed the major cities but large pockets of countryside remained untouched. The city of Newcastle hadn't even been hit. It was the diseases that followed that were the main problems for those that survived, without proper running water and a stable society to protect them people had died and quickly. After the radiation had gone through the amount of half lives to be harmless the doors to the bomb vaults had opened and society had started to pick up the war and why the vaults were necessary were a mystery to Clayton.
His father had told him that his grandfather had come out of a vault. Clayton when he was a child once tried to find the vault. It was supposed to be in one of the caves near his home, he never found it. He'd only found trouble in those caves.
*Ka-Chunk* There was solitary metallic knock at the door.
Clayton felt his head shift about ten different directions at once.
"Come in" he croaked, he shifted the blankets to cover his nakedness. The door flew open and Jerry stood on the other side. He was to tall to get through the door but he didn't need to get in.
"Master Caesar...re...re...re...quests y-y-your presence at the armory s...s-s-sir" The old robot drawled out. His old voice box was in need of repair but no one in the town knew how to fix it.
"Thank's Jerry...I'll be right there." He replied rubbing his head.
"Go-o-o...ood day sir" The old robot replied and then turned and "ka-chunk'ed" his way down the corridor.
Clayton stood up and closed the door behind the robot. He then walked over to the chair next to the bed. His clothes were in a pile there he quickly put on his pants, trousers and boots. He reached under the pillow and pulled out his revolver. He snapped it apart and looked at the chambers. Two bullets, that's all he had left for it. He stood in silent contemplation for a few seconds. Then he snapped it closed again.
He put on the rest of his clothes as quickly as his hangover would allow. Slipping the gun into his holster he then sat back on the bed with his rifle. Pulling the bolt back he looked down into the gun. Still clean, clean enough for a straight shot any way. He locked the bolt back and placed it on the bed next to him.
He pulled open his pack and looked into three clean bandages and four poultices. Next his bandoleer, thirty rounds still left for his rifle. That was good. He'd got some stray bullets left in his pack that he'll try to trade Caesar for some for his guns.
Standing up he pulled his rifle onto his shoulder across his back. He reached into one of his pouches on his belt and pulled out some money.
The monarchy that ran the country had introduced money, instead of using bottle caps like they did in the former U.S.A. There were notes and coins, no one knew the process on how to make the notes any more, apart from those in the royal court. So forging wasn't a problem for them.
He pulled out a ten credit note and placed at the foot of the bed for Amber to find when she woke. He'd already paid the madame downstairs but he wanted to make sure Amber got some more.
He looked the skinny woman up and down, she looked like she dam well needed the money more than he did. If she was awake he would have thanked her for making him feel good for an evening and pretending very well that she liked him.
He sighed, and with the sigh turned and left the room.
A few minutes later he arrived at the armory door, having left a note with the tavern staff to tell Mordred to meet him here.
"Still here John?" Clayton smiled to young guard.
"Yeah just...no thanks to you!" he curtly replied.
"Me? what did I do?" Clayton taken back by the guard's sterness
"Casaer sent my and Brick to fetch your bloody power armor! You could have told him about the dam mutants lurking around!"
"Mutants?"
"Yeah you know those big green fuckers...like to eat us but not before toying with us first."
"I'm sorry John, when I found the suit it was completely clear."
"Whatever..." with that john leaned back and knocked on the door.
Again the shutter swung across to reveal Brick's scowling face.
"Clayton is 'ere" John said.
The shutter swung back and several bolts were undone and the door swung open. Clayton stepped forward into the darkness. Brick gave out a low growl.
"I'm sorry Brick I didn't know there were mutants around. Look I'll leave some money at the Broken Flute behind the bar for you. You and John get yourselves a drink on me tonight." Clayton said apologetically.
Brick smiled and thumped Clayton in the shoulder, clearly forgiving him. Clayton was knocked off balance but tried not to show it.
"Thanks Clayton I know it aint you fault really." John said.
"Least I could do" Clayton smiled, knowing that it was better to have the guards like you than have their scorn.
He walked straight into the back where he knew Caesar would be waiting. Sure enough there he was sat behind his desk. He looked sour faced as usual and Clayton raised a hand in greeting him. Caesar frowned at him briefly then took a gun he was cleaning off the desk in front of him and put it in a draw.
"Clayton, a trust you enjoyed the sights our town had to offer last night?" he asked knowing full well where he'd spent his night.
"You know me Caesar." Clayton smiled back, "I heard your men ran into some trouble finding that power armor."
"Nothing they couldn't handle" he replied waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.
"So to our deal then."
"Indeed no point hanging around. The armor is in decent nick however I believe you were after the shotgun was it. I'm willing to part with the gun for the armor but your going to need to add something for the cartridges I have."
Clayton thought it over in his pained head and then reached down to his belt and undid the holster for his revolver, wrapping the leather around the gun he placed it on the counter in front of Caesar and then routing through his bag he dug out some bullets he didn't need not having the right guns for them. Making sure to keep the three shotgun shells he had.
"How's that?" Clayton said.
Caesar was already inspecting the gun, he snapped it open saw the two bullets inside, took them out and looked into all the chambers and smiled then snapped it shut.
'It's a deal" he said.
Clayton grinned.
Half an hour later Clayton was waiting outside the armory for Mordred. He was enjoying the sunshine and reading his book. He was sporting his new shotgun which sat in place on his right thigh in a strap. It ran the length of his thigh and was much bigger than a pistol but it wouldn't restrict his movements. He'd moved the saber to his back knowing he wouldn't want it clattering around his legs for the coming journey.
He was just about to turn the page of his book when a shadow loomed over him. He looked up seeing Mordred's grinning face.
"Good Morning Sunshine." he said. All the time that Clayton had known him the man had never had a hangover.
"Mornin'" he replied closing his book and standing up.
"I see you took my advice and ditched that awful handgun." he pointed out.
"Ha! of course because I take all my advice off of you." Clayton replied, "Come on lets get going I want to reach the Palace by tonight at least."
The pair walked towards the southern gate of Stablestown. The town was in full flow and people were going to the market and the hustle and bustle of the area was loud, to the point where Clayton and Mordred had to raise their voices to be heard.
Near the gate there was a small fabricated with a single scrawny man on it. He was dressed in rags and clearly hadn't shaved in a good many years. Behind him on this stage was a red banner with a hammer and sickle on it. He was yelling to a growing crowd.
"Come my comrades, now is the time to act. With the Royalist armies moving south to combat our brothers in arms we can strike a blow to the very central of this bourgeois society. Why should we work hard in the fields for the brotherhood and the nobles to take away our money and live like gods?" there were some murmurs of agreement from the crowd but it wasn't exactly an enthralled crowd
"Another one of those." Mordred said rolling his eyes
"Who is he?" Clayton asked
"A communist the term is I think. They're all about equality and a saying this and that about the king and how it's time to tear down the establishment. There's a few in the southern towns since I last went none this far north before though." he explained
"Okay" Clayton said frowning not understanding the guy, but accepting what Mordred was saying. Clayton never went south of the river he didn't like the area and there was never enough work so he'd have to take Mordred's view on it.
Mordred laughed and whirled his finger around his ear, indicating madness.
Clayton grinned in response and the two hurriedly left the town.