Chapter 9

-He bites any hand that feeds him. -

Churchill wanted to run, but she held him back. The gelding knew they were on the trail home and was keen to return to Fort Charles. Sal and Archer had gone out after breakfast out on a perimeter check of all the pits and traps they'd set up for the Dead. The traps had caught a surprising number of walkers, leading her to believe that a herd had gone through the area. They had put down the ones that were stuck on the pike fences, but left the ones in the pits. She'd send a crew out to deal with them tomorrow.

As the two riders approached the Fort, the sun was low on the horizon.

Sal's grey mare, Dolly, trotted up beside Churchill. "It'll be nice to get home." Sal said, offering her an apple from his pack.

She took it gratefully. "I bet we missed dinner."

"Maybe not. The days are shorter now." Sal ducked a low branch and his horse took the opportunity to put her head down and clip off some grass as they walked. "Well, at least Dolly here is enjoying the buffet."

As they cleared the woods they could hear shouts from inside the fort signaling for the gate to be opened. The heavy cranking sound of the gates being opened made Churchill pull harder on the bit. "Damn." She cursed. "You and Dolly go ahead, Sal. Churchill and I need to have a chat."

Sal chuckled and waved as he continued ahead of her. She pulled Churchill into a halt.

"Now Churchill." She chided the gelding. "Until you settle down we're going to do the standing thing."

Churchill's ears flicked back and forth, he danced forwards a bit. She halted him and made him back up two steps for every step he took forward. She could feel his body tense up, he wanted so badly to go to his stall. Archer knew Churchill had to be made to listen, otherwise he'd quickly become unmanageable. She couldn't have a horse that raced in through the gates whenever they got home from a run. That could very easily cause an accident.

After ten minutes, Churchill sighed and relaxed. She waited a minute longer before asking him to walk forward. When he started rushing again, she asked him to stop again. This time he listened on the first try. When she let him go forward again, he'd stopped rushing. Once inside the gates she dismounted and led him into the stables. Rick and Carl were in Dolly's stall, brushing her down.

"Where's Sal?" She asked.

"I sent him off to dinner." Rick said. "Told him Carl and I'd look after the horses so you two could get warmed up."

"That's nice of you."

"Least we can do." Rick said. "Besides, I like horses."

Carl came around to take Churchill's reins, Archer waved him off. "Churchill's a bit of an ill-mannered beast. It's probably best if I just brush him down. If you wouldn't mind putting away his tack I'd appreciate it."

"We've had horses before, I can handle him" Carl said.

"I know, but Churchill's evil. Mostly it's just Sal and I that deal with him."

"How'd you come across him?" Rick asked.

"He was a sale horse at the barn Michael and I rode at. His owner was having a hard time selling him." She rubbed Churchill's ears lovingly. "He kept biting all the prospective buyers. When Michael and I ran, we set off on horseback. Churchill just happened to be in his stall at the time."

"He doesn't seem so bad." Carl said.

She eyed the liver-chestnut carefully as she pulled his saddle off and handed it to Carl, "He's better with me now but I still won't turn my back on him. Dolly there will happily munch her hay and ignore you while you brush her. Churchill here is always watching, always waiting for the one second you take your eyes off him."

"You say that like you enjoy it." Rick said.

"I like my horses big and dumb like Tank over there," She pointed to Micheal's barrel chested chestnut mare. "but Churchill is fun to ride. He's smart and that means he learns fast. He also got a lot more agreable when he could take out his aggression on the dead."

"Seriously?" Carl said

"Dead serious. He's as good as two men out there in a fight."

"No way." Carl shook his head. "You're making that up."

Rick came over to lean against Churchill's stall as she finished brushing him. "That would come in handy." He reached a hand over to pat Churchill's neck and yanked it away as the gelding snaked his head around to snap at him. "I see what you mean."

"Ill mannered beast." She muttered leaving Churchill's stall and closing the door behind her.

Rick reached over for her brushes. "Go on. You've been out all day. We'll clean up."

"Thanks." She smiled gratefully, handing Carl her brush before leaving the father and son to tidy up the barn. Archer walked out into the square and found night had fallen. The wind had picked up and was blowing across the pavement, swirling dried leaves around in the corners of the fort. She jogged over to the kitchen and let herself in, being careful not to let the wind blow the door wide open. As it was, she had to lean against the door to shut it.

"Took you long enough." Daryl was setting out a bowl of stew on the table. "Sal's been here and gone."

"I had to take care of Churchill." She hung her coat on the hook outside of her bedroom door. She noticed they were alone. "You the chef now?"

"My turn on dishes." He was standing at the counter, elbow deep in a basin they used for dishwashing. It stuck Archer as an odd sight. "Sent Sheila off with her boys, told her I'd take care of the rest."

"That was kind of you." She sat down at the table and started in on her stew. It was warm and filled up the pit in her stomach that had developed over the day.

"Sal says you've got fist watch." Daryl's back was to her as he worked.

"That I do."

"Mind if I join you?"

"On watch?"

Daryl shrugged but didn't turn around.

"Sure, I guess." She wasn't sure why anyone would want to take a watch. Sitting around was dull work, but she supposed Daryl might be feeling a bit cooped up inside the Fort. She would appreciate the company at least. "I'm on the North wall tonight, bring your crossbow and a warm coat."

"Yes m'am."

"Don't you M'am me. Mister Dixon." She chided. "You can't charm me like you charmed Sheila you know."

Daryl chuckled. "Wouldn't dare."

She finished her stew and set her dish in the pile next to Daryl. "Need a hand?" she offered.

He shook his head "Almost done. Costas wants ta see ya 'fore watch."

"Thanks. Do you want me to meet you here before I go on the wall?"

"I'll find ya."

"See you in about an hour then." She grabbed her coat and shuffled out the door into the night.