Hunted and Hated
An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque
I do not own X-Men.
Chapter 9: Sword and Pistol 101
Somewhere….
A riding column of grim-faced, armored men sent crows squawking skyward as they made their way through the wilderness of Spain's interior. Their mounts were unsuited to such terrain, for such large warhorses were bred for combat in the open fields and plains, rather than the cramped, perilous confines of the forest. Predictably, this slowed their advance to a crawl.
Then, with abrupt suddenness, the slow-moving cavalcade of swords and steel came to an unexpected halt. The lead horse, a magnificent black stallion, whinnied and snorted loudly as its rider dismounted.
A mail-clad hand brushed lightly over the peculiar two-toed fingerprint that had been left in the dirt. It was not fresh, probably days old, but it served to confirm that the men were indeed headed in the right direction.
Pedro Sanchez stood slowly, and a sick smile spread across his face.
"They went this way…"
Meanwhile…
Catherine Hernandez hesitantly gripped the rounded handle of a rather finely engraved flintlock pistol. It was an elaborate piece, functional but fashionable: its hammer was shaped like a lion's head, and a tight screw held a sharp piece of flint in place between the lion's jaws. The hard, dark brown wood was inlaid with swirls of gold filigree, and the butt of the pistol was covered with a bronze cap, which could double as a skull-splitting club once the firearm had spent its ammunition. Though the weapon was beautiful, it still had a single purpose: to kill. And this made Kitty very uneasy.
She had, of course, asked Kurt to teach her how to defend herself in case the Inquisition caught up with them. But even so, Kitty was by nature a gentle soul, and the thought of killing anyone, even an enemy was abhorrent to her.
Kurt had no such qualms about taking an Inquisitor's life, and his voice snapped Kitty out of her thoughts like a pail of cold water.
"This is a powder cartridge," Kurt stated matter-of-factly, holding up a small paper cylinder. "It contains powder and ball for one shot, which is all you get from one of these." He waved a pistol of his own for emphasis. "Make sure you use it wisely."
"And what if I miss?" Kitty couldn't help asking.
Kurt gestured to the pile of weaponry beside him. "That's why I brought spares. Now, to prepare for firing, you have to move the pistol's hammer to the half-cocked position. See it, there? Pull it backward."
The gilded metal clicked loudly as Kitty followed his instructions, and there was something ominous about the sound.
Kurt grinned at her. "Excellent. Now, to load and fire one of these, you have to first tear open the cartridge with your teeth, like this." His fangs made short work of the thin paper, and he spat out a shred of white as he continued. "Try it."
Kitty nodded, and her normal, human molars made a ripping sound as she emulated Kurt. "Like this?"
"Yes," Kurt nodded. "Now, once you've got the cartridge open, you have to fill the flash pan full of powder. Make sure you get it in the vent, too."
"Flash pan?" Kitty couldn't help being confused.
"See that little thing that looks like a plate? That's the flash pan, Kitty." Kurt said patiently. "When the flint strikes the powder there, it will create a spark, and this will travel through that vent there," he pointed to the slit in question, "and that will ignite the powder in the barrel."
"So I just dump it in there?"
"Not exactly," Kurt said. "You don't want to put too much, or the gun may destroy itself. And if you put too little, you may get a misfire."
Kitty nodded, and liberally sprinkled the black, grainy substance in the small metal dish with nervous fingers. "Now what?"
"Now, you take the ramrod," Kurt extracted a thin metal pole from the underside of his pistol, "and use it to ram the powder and ball down the barrel. Make sure it's in there all the way," he added, sidling over to Kitty to get a better view of her efforts.
She emptied the rest of the gunpowder in the barrel's confines, and the lead ball that served as ammunition followed. The ramrod pumped rapidly, until Kitty was sure that she had followed her instructions to the letter.
Kurt smiled warmly at her. "You're learning fast. All you have to do now is pull the hammer back some more. This will take it from half-cock to full-cock, and that will remove the safety, so make sure you have it pointed in a safe direction."
The gilded hammer made another sinister click, and Kitty regarded the now-loaded weapon with curiosity. "All of this for one shot?"
"Yep," Kurt replied. "But practice makes perfect, you know. I've heard the Prussians can do all of this less than a minute." A smug smile crossed his face. "So can I."
"What shall I aim at?" Kitty wondered, her arm slackening.
"Don't point the pistol downward like that," Kurt chided her gently. "Or the powder will run out of the barrel."
Kitty blushed with embarrassment. "Sorry."
Kurt shrugged. "Don't be. I nearly blew my own head off the first time I tried to use one of these. And as to your question, Kitty, see if you can hit that branch over there." He pointed to one of the overhanging limbs. It was not very small or very thick, but sizeable, and thus made the perfect target for an amateur shooter like Kitty.
Eager to impress her friend, Kitty closed one eye and pointed the pistol upward. Her slender finger pulled the trigger, and her efforts were rewarded with a flash and a satisfying bang.
The unfortunate branch was splintered almost in half by the force of the shot, and Kitty's face lit up with excitement. "I did it!" she exclaimed happily.
Kurt flashed those fangs at her. "Beginner's luck," he said teasingly, hefting a pistol of his own. "Watch this…"
A/N: Hey, guys! I know it's been a while, and I thank you all for your patience during my absence! I just couldn't leave you all without posting one more chapter! ^^ Anyway, keep an eye out, 'cause in the next chapter, Kurt introduces Kitty to the fascinating world of swords (and some MAJOR fluffiness to boot!) And all the while, Sanchez continues to follow them…
Your humble servant,