Author's Note: All properties are the rights of their respective owners, Dynamite Entertainment, Rockstar, etc.
Alright everybody, this is a sequel to a story I did a while back, Once Upon a Time in Hyboria, and picks up right where that one left off. If you haven't read that one, it is pretty much essential to understand a lot of the character dynamics and circumstances in this one. No character will exactly match any other, but there are obvious inspirations, Sonja is inspired by her 2005 run (no Gail Simone influence) but there are some other elements, Walker is an amalgamation of a dozen different Western Gunslingers, and many other characters take a lot from Red Dead Redemption. Expect two story arcs, totaling 12-15 chapters out on a bi-weekly basis, if current plans hold.
None of that would be possible without some help, so a special thanks to TheCarlosInferno, V-rcingetorix, and Nick Baldwin for putting up with my batshit ideas.
Without further ado, let's get this show on the road.
She-Devil of the Frontier
Chapter 1: Far Away
Sitting high in the saddle of her horse, Red Sonja looked out over the land that was not her own, bathed in a vibrant mix of red and purple hues as the sun fell low on the horizon. The Hyrkanian Warrior Woman, for whom travel had been a constant in her life, was silently in awe of the natural, untamed beauty of the barren land. Despite being enamored by the vistas around her, Red Sonja's guard did not falter; her hand never far from the hilt of her blade, which was kept on her belt.
Her eyes drifted to the man she rode with, sat atop his own horse, his name was Joshua Walker and this was his land. If what he had said was true, then he was a 'Bounty Hunter' of some renown, and Sonja had learned firsthand that he was a formidable fighter. He was ever so slightly taller than she, broad shouldered but lean, and stronger than most men of his stature despite possessing a surprising swiftness, especially with his hands, enough so that he had bested the much afeared 'She-Devil with a Sword' in fair combat.
With his keen blue eyes peering out from under the wide brim of his hat, grey duster draped down his back, and length of cloth wrapped around his neck, the man looked as if he belonged in this land. A stark contrast to how he had looked when Sonja had met him in her Hyboria four moons ago.
Unlike those four moons they had spent together, traveling across Sonja's land, Walker led the pair through the desert. For the whole day, they never had strayed far from the 'Railroad' that snaked across the land on the assurances from Walker that it would lead to a settlement, from which he could gather his bearings. Unlike the early days of their partnership, Sonja implicitly trusted Walker. After the trials they had faced together, the bond between them had grown stronger, and become something Sonja enjoyed and cherished.
Walker brought his horse to a sudden halt and Sonja followed suit, looking for any sign of trouble that might've made the Bounty Hunter wary, but saw none. "Walker," she began lowly, fingers grazing her blade's grip, "What is it?"
"That sign," he said, nodding towards a wooden post placed where the trail they were riding on split. "It says 'Deming.' I've never heard of no town called 'Deming' before."
The man spoke in his usual dry, relaxed manner, but Sonja could hear the tension underpinning the simple admission. Pondering for a moment, Sonja looked at the simple, ramshackle sign, seeing the name in common script scribbled upon it, but something else as well. "What does the 'two' on the sign mean?"
"Two miles," answered Walker, his shoulders sagging ever so slightly as silence fell between them. A Gloved hand came up to remove the hat on his head before Walker wiped his brow and turned to look at her, head shaking. "I just don't know what'll be waiting for us, Sonja."
"Whatever it is, Joshua Walker, we shall face it together," declared Red Sonja with utter certainty. At that, the Hyrkanian saw a faint smile appear on the man's grizzled face as he placed his hat back in its proper spot and straightened in his saddle. Without another word, the pair turned at the fork towards this town and all of the unknowns that inevitably awaited them. It was not new for the adventuring She-Devil to be faced with such circumstances, and she resolved to face them as she always had: With equal faith in her sword arm and her goddess, Sacathach.
Unlike those other instances, she would not do so alone, but never before had she been so far removed from her native land.
Circling around a hill, Sonja caught her first glimpse of an American city, and from a distance, she was unimpressed. The buildings were wooden, the roads were dirt, and it was no sprawling capital, if it were not for the odd poles with string hanging between them then Sonja could have easily mistaken Deming for a Hyborian town, and not a very impressive one. A quick glance at Walker allowed the red headed She-Devil to see the tension in his posture as they drew nearer; it was enough for Sonja to be wary of this place, if it could unnerve her partner so.
An ear-piercing shriek shattered the serenity of the darkening desert, prompting Sonja to spin in her saddle and see one of the monstrous contraptions that traveled along the railroad. She had seen one in the distance upon first arriving in this land, but seeing one of these great 'locomotives' up close was a whole different experience. The noise was tremendous, clattering of steel and rushing of air as black smoke puffed from the top. Sonja had to keep a tight grip on the reins to calm her horse as the locomotive trundled past, close enough for the Hyrkanian to see the details on the massive steel wheels and the intricacies of the machinery that drove them, though she could not truly fathom how such a marvelous thing operated.
The rhythmic chugging that emanated from the locomotive, like the deep breaths of some great beast, seemed to slow as it passed them by. This allowed the Hyrkanian to see the details on the wagons it was towing behind it, the first of which was painted to match the locomotive and different from all the rest, both in design and in the way it was coated in a fine layer of black dust, like that of charcoal. Written on the side, in striking gold script that stood out from the grey tender, were the words 'Southwestern Union Railway.'
Turning to Walker, Sonja could see the man's blue eyes narrow at the words, a scowl etched upon his face before he looked elsewhere. Raising an eyebrow at the peculiar reaction, Sonja found herself drawn to watching the carriages pass, noting that each had the same words on them, and each was large enough to carry twenty or thirty people. After counting six such carriages pass her by, Sonja noted the last one was of a different design, and brightly painted with a raised lookout point protruding from the roof.
The whole 'train' came to a stop beside a building on the edge of the town, and Sonja saw some passengers emerge from the carriages as Walker and she entered Deming. It was an eclectic mix, Sonja saw, men and women, all dressed in a manner wholly unfamiliar to the Hyrkanian. There were rugged men, not unlike Walker, and then those dressed in a foreign manner, form fitting black coats that went to their waists, finely tailored shirts and pants, as well as an odd manner of tall, flat crowned hat, or hats that were shorter but rounded, but all featured wide brims. Even stranger were the women among their number, most of which had elaborate, if not outright garish, dresses that did little to flatter the women wearing them.
As a group, the passengers meandered into a building that Sonja could see bore a sign that said 'Deming Station' with a strange, circular design on it that featured two different length lines at peculiar angles. Alongside this station was a smaller structure called a 'Telegraph Office,' the purpose of which Sonja could not fathom. On the other side of the station were pens for livestock, in which were an array of cows, pigs, and other animals.
Upon closer inspection, Sonja could see that the buildings were sturdily constructed, and despite the signs of wear and tear, none looked to be in disrepair. The She-Devil thought of the exquisite craftmanship of all of her companions clothing and equipment, and it made good sense that everything made by these 'Americans' would be of similar quality. A quick glance at the rest of the town revealed that the other buildings were much the same, despite their odd designs and bearing names she did not know.
Across from the Train Station was the building that was the most raucous and popular establishment in the whole town. Music emanated from behind the swinging doors of this 'Saloon,' and Sonja could see the women that paraded themselves about on the porch and balcony of the establishment, making it even clearer what sort of place this Saloon was. Keeping it in mind, Sonja then looked across the single street that ran through the length of the town and saw a 'Freight Station' that also housed a 'Post Office' and provided 'Stagecoach Service.'
Alongside the building with these unusual labels was one that made more sense to the warrior woman, a 'General Store,' the purpose of which was simple enough. Opposite that store was one with a sign that proclaimed it housed a 'gunsmith,' which prompted Sonja to wonder what this might mean until she recalled that Walker sometimes referred to his marvelous weapons as 'guns' and reasoned that this was the sort of man who was in the business of such devices. Next to this gunsmith, was an ironically located Doctor, a term Walker had used to refer to healers. Across from the doctor was a larger building with a grand sign proclaiming it as a 'Bank,' unlike the other buildings, this was a building of stone and hard iron bars placed over the windows, marking it in Sonja's mind as a place of significant value. Alongside this Bank was a 'Barber Shop,' though the word 'barber' meant nothing to the Hyrkanian. Across the main road was an 'Undertaker,' and Sonja did not need to ask what the purpose of such a man was.
From there, the road split in a 'T' shape, and at the top of the split were two more buildings, one had a towering steeple that was the highest point in the town and adorned with a cross. The other was a small, square thing with a less perfect sign that read 'Marshal.'
"Come on Sonja," said Walker lowly, steering his horse towards the Bank. The Hyrkanian followed, dismounting when the Bounty Hunter did and similarly securing her mount to a post outside the establishment. "Give me your gold," instructed Walker as he extended a hand towards Sonja.
The Hyrkanian only stared incredulously at the man for a moment, "What are you going to do with it?" The Bounty Hunter held one of his own sacks of gold coins, she noted as his eyes flicked up the street towards the people leaving the train station. The crowd seemed to disperse, with some heading to the saloon, others going to the 'Freight Station,' and some more heading down the street.
"Exchange it for money, the kind we use here," answered Walker, "You use straight gold, you'll get taken advantage off. Best to get some bills, paper you can exchange for a certain amount of gold, lighter. You don't have to exchange all your gold, but I'd advise at least one pouch's worth." Sonja raised an eyebrow at the proposition, but after a moment of pondering, Sonja reached into her saddlebag and extracted one of her coin purses, passing it to the Gunfighter. "Come inside, you can wait while I make the exchange. Keep your steel sheathed, Sonja."
Recognizing his tone and deciding it best not to argue, Sonja nodded, following him up the steps and through the door of the Bank. The interior of the bank caused the Hyrkanian to come up short as she took in the strange rock on the floor, the ornate patterns on the walls and ceiling, illuminated by more lanterns. There was an odd arrangement to the space, with several chairs lining the walls near the door, beyond which was a counter that extended from a wall, at which stood two well-dressed men. "Grab a seat Sonja, this might take a minute, and keep calm," cautioned Walker.
Nodding, Sonja found a seat in a corner of the waiting area and settled into it, watching Walker make his way to the counter and begin speaking one of the men there in low, hushed tones. While he was, the Hyrkanian watched more people come through the door of the bank, the first of which was a woman about Sonja's age, brunette hair, white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to below her elbows, a tan vest and loose tan pants that went down to the top of her well worn boots. She had an unusual string of gems about her neck, and Sonja was certain the exotic looking jewelry would command quite a price in her land.
This woman moved with purpose to the counter and began a heated conversation with the man there that Sonja could not make out, not when the next groups to enter the bank were carrying on their own conversations in the chairs closer to the Hyrkanian. Across from Sonja saw two elderly women, greying hair and wrinkled faces a testament to their years, while their finely made clothes spoke of affluence or, at the very least, the affluence of their husbands. She saw the shocked looks on their faces as they laid eyes on her, or more precisely, her attire, little more than a few strips of armor to preserve the minimum of modesty.
Neither commented directly to the Hyrkanian, not when they caught sight of the scabbard that contained her blade, but as they sat across from the She-Devil, their conversation resumed. The one wearing a lilac dress said, "Well, I for one am grateful, Mrs. Bush, that they are finally endeavoring to bring civilization to this savage land. It seems that it will be quite the endeavor, indeed."
Sonja's skin pricked at the insinuation she was Savage. A savage fighter, Sonja was proud to be, but to suggest that she was little more than many of the beasts she had slain? Crossing her arms to resist the temptation to reach for her sword, Sonja closed her eyes and shamelessly eavesdropped. "I could not agree more, my dear," answered Mrs. Bush, with the same haughtiness Sonja heard from Lords and Kings. "My daddy settled this land, and I know he'll be looking down on us, pleased at us helping the natives."
"Yes, they'll lose their land, but they'll gain access to heaven," stated the first crone, sounding far too pleased with herself for Sonja's liking.
Fortunately, the door opened once more and another odd pair came through, one was an older man dressed in black, with a high, stiff white collar. The other was a young woman in a soft salmon colored dress with grey vest and hat, her brow furrowed as she faced the older man, "But father, do you mean unless an innocent receives communion, they're destined to go to hell? That hardly seems fair."
The father's response was delayed as he caught a glimpse of Sonja, and blanched visibly. Quickly guiding his daughter to a chair, the man made sure that he was between the Hyrkanian and the younger girl before he answered. "What I mean to say, Jenny, is that there is a great deal of difference between an innocent and a savage."
"I never thought of it that way," replied the girl as Sonja glared daggers into her father's back.
It was only the arrogant voice of the crone in the violet dress that caused Sonja's attention to shift elsewhere, even if her eyes didn't budge. "Yes, they live like animals," conceded the woman before asserting, "But they'll be happier soon."
"Have you heard why all this is happening?" inquired Mrs. Bush. In the corner of her eye, the red-headed warrior saw the arrogant hag shake her head before Bush resumed. "Apparently," she began in the way Sonja knew beguiled hearsay, "Mr. Johns wants to run for Governor. Which is why he's so concerned with cleaning up the territory."
"Nate Johns?" tutted the woman in lilac. "His family is nothing but hillbilly trash that came here after the war. I don't want to be judgmental," said the crone in a way that Sonja understood to mean that she was about to be, "But this territory should not be run by such a disgusting family. A family, without class," she asserted while preening like a bird.
"Apparently," replied Mrs. Bush in the same tone she had used a moment before, "The Johns family have made a lot of money, and he has a lot of friends in politics."
Sonja huffed; this land did not seem so different from her own after all.
"Mrs. Bush, money isn't everything. There are many things that money cannot buy," reminded the more arrogant woman.
Bush's mouth downturned slightly, "It seems that money can buy voters, though," she rebuked.
Furrowing her brow, Sonja found the questions she wished to ask Walker about his land piling up in her mind like freshly fallen snow. Sonja thought of herself as a simple woman, and felt she had a read that Walker was a simple man, but could such a complex land truly yield that sort of man?
"What you must remember, my dear, is that we have been brought here to spread the Word. And the Word and Civilization, they are the same thing. They are the gifts." Sonja looked over the man's shoulder to see the young girl, Jenny, nodding. "It is a rare opportunity we have, to live among people who are decent and do not kill each other, and who let you worship in peace."
Sonja shifted in her seat, wanting to leap out and grab the man by his stiff collar and ask him how many would have to be killed to spread this religion of his. Hard earned experience told the Hyrkanian that no people would willingly give up their way of life, not without bloodshed and a lot of it. Yet she stayed her hand, this fool was blinded by his faith, as many such faithful were, and Sonja refused to waste her breath on the man.
Jenny, however, did respond, and her response was one that intrigued the Hyrkanian. "It's so confusing father," she admitted. "Sometimes I find it impossible to make the distinction between a loving act and a hateful one. I mean… they often seem to be the same thing."
"Yes Jenny, it is confusing," agreed the father. "But you only have to ask me, if you need help."
Rolling her eyes at the thought that this man, who had never held another's life in his hands and make his decision in the moment, could be an arbiter of love and hate. Nor could she fail to miss how he equated love and hate with right and wrong. Was there no point at which hate was the correct response? Sonja knew of hate, all too well, and what good could come from it. She had also seen reprehensible acts had been committed out of love.
Before she could be lost in her own thoughts, Walker, spurs chiming with each step, returned from the counter and nodded towards the door. At once, the Hyrkanian stood, once again attracting eyes as the six foot tall woman strode after the Bounty Hunter and followed him out the door he held open for her. Once out in the slowly approaching night, Walker passed Sonja her coin purse, "That's what you gave me, four hundred and forty dollars. I got you a mix of bills and coins."
Peering inside, the Hyrkanian could see a mix of small coins made of different, cheap looking metals and some small pieces of paper with pictures and script on them. She felt uneasy about such an exchange but pushed such worries aside, "Thank you, Joshua. What do we do now?"
The man shrugged, "What'd be your preference?"
"I want a drink," answered Sonja without a moment's hesitation.
Snorting, Walker's head drooped before the man turned back up the street towards the Saloon.
As he approached the doors of the town saloon, Walker's mind wandered now that it was back in a setting that was so familiar to him, but yet not quite right. This was a town, a boomtown not unlike many that Walker had frequented as a Bounty Hunter, and so he expected a certain type of people in it, which he had, but there was more. There was a level of sophistication that was seeping in, the trains, the high-class people he'd seen at the bank. Not all was different, the woman who had argued with the money man at the bank about her ranch was a reminder that there were still hard-working people living off the land, and that was almost enough to convince him that things hadn't really changed. Except for the fact that, when he asked the bank man about the town, he'd been told that it had sprung up in 1881 following the completion of a second transcontinental railroad.
Except Walker was pretty certain it had been 1879 when he'd been scooped up by Gath's magic and dumped in Hyboria, where'd he'd only been a few months, not a few years.
Making sure not to show his worry to the redhead, Joshua heard the jubilant piano music coming from inside the saloon before he pushed through the batwing doors and into the establishment. He felt right at home, seeing the wooden walls adorned with the stuffed heads of wildlife, the tables where men were gathered to drink, some enjoying the company of prostitutes in corsets, skirts, and knickers. At the corner table, a poker game was in progress, while in another, a man hammered out a tune on the well-worn keys of the piano. Across from the piano was the one thing every good saloon had, a bar, and by the looks of it this one was well stocked.
Striding across the room towards that bar, Walker could sense the whole room pausing to look at the door, but knew it wasn't him they were looking at. Not when Sonja was a six foot tall, fiery haired woman with long legs, wide womanly hips, a pleasantly narrow waist, and generous bust. Not only that, but her only clothing was what she called a 'bikini' comprised of 'scalemail' that amounted to cups to contain her breasts and triangular coverings for her womanhood and backside, preserving only the barest hint of modesty. The skin she showed drew eyes away from the sword she had hanging from her left hip, and she was no doubt used to the looks she received, but Walker knew she'd be inviting trouble.
Narrowing his gaze, Tombstone's eyes swept over the room with enough frost in his gaze to dissuade some from staring at the scantily clad Sonja in her bikini. He could see the men stare with a mix of shock and lust, the women all had a jealous glint in their eyes, as the Hyrkanian had taken all eyes off them.
A quick glance over his shoulder told Joshua that Sonja did not mind the eyes she attracted as she strode through the room and followed him up to the bar. The smartly dressed bartender was clearly attentive as well, and came over to the pair while Walker withdrew some of his newly acquired bills. "Good evening sir," greeted the bespectacled bar tender before nodding to Sonja, "Miss."
"I'd like a room for the night, and maybe longer," began Joshua as he heard conversation resume throughout the saloon.
"For one night, that will be four dollars, sir," replied the bartender, at which Walker slid across that amount. "Thank you," said the older man as he accepted the payment and produced a small notebook, "Now if I could just have your name for the registry?"
"Walker, Joshua Walker," replied the Bounty Hunter, only for the barkeep to snort derisively at him. "What is it?"
"Tombstone? The Bounty Killer?" asked the older man, "He's been dead going on six years, everyone knows that." Joshua raised an eyebrow and shrugged, at which the barkeep dropped the subject. "Very well sir, one room for Joshua Walker. Is there anything else I can get you?"
Walker slid a crisp twenty dollar note across the polished wood, "Start a tab for myself and the lady here," instructed the Bounty Hunter as he eyed a certain bottle. "And get me a whisky."
"One whisky coming up," replied the barkeep before producing the bottle and glass, filling the latter and sliding it to Joshua. "And for the lady?"
Walker noticed that Sonja was eying the whiskey bottle before she turned to him, "Is that your drink of choice, Joshua Walker?" Walker nodded simply, and Sonja then turned to the barkeep. "Then I will have a whiskey as well."
That drew a raised eyebrow from the barkeep as he poured a second glass of the liquor, which Sonja eagerly scooped up and clinked against Walker's raised glass. The She-Devil threw back the entirety of the glass in one gulp, slamming the glass back down on the counter, "Tarim's Blood!" she exclaimed, a grin on her face, "Your land makes fine drinks, Joshua Walker, another."
Joshua merely sipped at his glass, savoring the familiar burn of the whiskey, a burn he hadn't felt in a while, which made the sensation all the sweeter. It also prevented him from choking on the liquor as he caught sight of the barkeep, eyes wide and mouth agape, as he stared at the Hyrkanian. Finally regaining his wits, the man poured Sonja another glass before turning back to Joshua, "Anything else?"
Walker's stomach grumbled, since the pair hadn't eaten all day, and the Gunfighter held up a pair of fingers, "Sandwiches," he said simply. The barman nodded and turned around, allowing Joshua to spy a box sitting on the shelf behind the barkeep and felt another craving for something he'd been without today. "And a cigar." The barkeep nodded and reached into the wood case, retrieving one of the cigars and then a cigar clipper to snip the end of the tobacco off. Graciously accepting the cigar, Joshua slipped it between his teeth while the barkeep struck up a match and lit the tobacco. "Much obliged," thanked the Gunslinger as he took a drag on the rich tobacco, enjoying the flavor of the cigar compared to his usual cigarillo.
Sonja made no such attempt to savor her drink, downing the second glass as quickly as the first as the barkeep filled the Hyrkanian's glass for a third time before setting the bottle down. "I'll leave this here," he finally said, setting the bottle down as Walker tapped the brim of his hat.
"Your land is indeed one of marvels, Joshua," said Sonja, shock still permeating her slightly accented voice. She eagerly poured herself another whiskey, seemingly unfazed by her first two glasses of liquor. "I have never had a drink like this one," declared the Hyrkanian, hoisting her glass yet again before eagerly downing the contents of her glass, "What did you say it was called?"
"It's called Whiskey, Sonja," drawled the Bounty Hunter before he sipped the last of his. Picking up the bottle, he began refilling both glasses, "And it's best enjoyed a bit more slowly."
"Is that so?" questioned the Swordswoman, prompting Walker to nod in reply before he raised his glass and took a careful sip. Sonja mirrored his movements with a slight curl on her lips, amused that anyone might drink like this, but when she lowered her glass, she said, "A unique flavor, not the mere burn of a strong drink to warm the spirit, but a taste to nourish the soul." Joshua smirked slightly at Sonja's remark, the redhead not able to keep herself from the drink any longer, going back to the amber liquor. "Is there anything else that goes well with this drink?"
As if on cue, a plate with a pair of sandwiches appeared on the counter before them, and Walker raised his glass to the barman. Sonja eyed the food oddly while Joshua eagerly took up one of the sandwiches and took a healthy bite. "Roast beef, pretty good."
Seeing how Walker handled the meal spurred Sonja to follow suit, and the She-Devil tentatively took her own bite. "Good," she declared after swallowing, "It is oddly salty."
"Nothin' odd about it," replied Walker between his own eager bites, realizing just how hungry he'd been. "It's so you buy more drinks, Calamity Dame."
"Ha! As if I require an excuse such as that to have more drinks," returned Sonja dismissively before merrily going back to her meal and whiskey. Joshua did the same, but he wasn't focused on it, his mind drifting through the things still left to do, and concerns regarding what lay ahead. Not only had he lost years, it seemed, but there was another big complication standing next to him at the bar. "Something troubles you, Joshua Walker," observed Sonja, her tone low. Joshua opened his mouth to dismiss her concerns so he could figure things out, but was cut off. "Do not deny it, your face betrays you, and if it does, then it must be something of import. You are not a man easily shaken."
Working his jaw around the cigar and blowing out a wisp of smoke to buy a moment to compose his thoughts, Walker was about to answer when he saw one of his worries come their way. Four men of a rough looking sort, dirt caked shirts and pants, spurs on their boots, and bandannas wrapped around their necks that were soaked with grime, all spoke to long hours on trails, making Walker think they were cowboys on a cattle drive. The pistol belts they wore, all well worn and with notches carved in them, spoke to something else, the same thing that the similar black armbands did: Trouble.
The one in front, a big, burly man with a bushy mess of a beard, plodded up to the bar and leaned against the wood beside Sonja. "Listen now, you scarlet woman," he rumbled while his three compatriots surrounded Walker and Sonja. Joshua glanced at this bearded man, but his eyes were on the Hyrkanian, looking for any sign that she took offense at the insult, all he saw was that the woman looking at him with a befuddled expression. "And you," he continued gaze turning to Tombstone, "What are you? Her pimp?"
Walker used his left hand to remove the cigar from his mouth and picked up his whiskey to mask his right hand slipping off the bar and down towards his leg and the Schofield holstered on it. After taking a sip, and noting that him ignoring the group did not dissuade them, Joshua sighed and looked down at his whiskey glass, saying, "We are the kind of people who are best left alone."
All the words got was a round of laughter from the four men as they drew closer, "Now why would we do a thing like that?" drawled the bearded oaf, a slight slur to his words. "We just wanted to make use of your woman here, since you a'int," continued the man, leaning in and grinning to expose a mouthful of yellow teeth. Now even closer to the Hyrkanian, Walker saw him look down at Sonja's ample cleavage, her bikini leaving her quite exposed. Turning to his compatriots, the man declared, "We got ourselves quite the slommack here, boys!"
The words were followed up by the fleshy smack of the man's hand slapping Sonja's backside, and even as the impact's sound echoed through the room, Walker's hand flashed from his holster to grab hold of the She-Devil's risk, squeezing as tight as he could in an effort to contain her fury, at least for the moment. Looking her in the eye, Joshua could see that fury burning brightly in her, her teeth barred and muscles tensing. Walker kept his expression stoic, waiting for her anger to momentarily abate, and he only relaxed when he saw her lips press back together, even if the redhead didn't relax.
With memories of Meroe, and the tavern she had wrecked, springing to the forefront of his mind, Walker released Sonja and stood straight before turning to face the belligerent men. The Bounty Hunter's narrowed eyes swept over the group before he took a small step forwards, "Outside," he intoned lowly.
"Oh good, looky here boys, we got ourselves a tough guy, don't we?" exclaimed one of the other's, a smaller man with a bushy mustache and a burn on his neck.
"Tougher than you," retorted Joshua in the same dry, disinterested tone before he repeated his first command more firmly, "Outside." There was a moment of silence as even the piano stopped playing, and in the corner of his eye, Walker could see Sonja's hand creep towards the whiskey bottle while his own began to ball into fists. Before punches were thrown, the burly oaf relented, stepping back and turning towards the door, prompting the others to follow suit. They each took two steps before Walker spoke again, voice a bit louder. "Pay off your tabs."
"Four against one, I reckon we'll be using your money to pay them off," boasted the one with a bushy mustache.
Walker shook his head, "No you're not," he replied like the statement of fact that it was.
The mouthy minion cocked his head, "You think?"
"All the time," answered Joshua before downing the rest of his whiskey, "You should try it."
All traces of mirth vanished from the men's faces as the burly leader leaned in and pointed at Walker, "Get your sorry ass outside, you bottom feeding sonofabitch."
Reseating the cigar in his mouth, Walker strode purposefully towards the door, passing the four men with Sonja following close behind. Stepping out of the saloon and onto the moonlit, dusty street, Walker turned back around, looking from Sonja to the four men arrayed against them before taking a step towards the group. "Y'all can still walk away," he drawled, though he doubted that was true, considering the daggers he could feel Sonja glaring into him.
The four men chuckled, their expressions a mixture of amusement and arrogance, "Now why would we do a thing like that? We're gonna beat the shit out of some smart-mouthed motherfucker and make him watch as we take his whore right here on this street!" declared the big one, causing all four to laugh heartily. Walker merely shifted the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other, his face expressionless when he was finally noticed again, and the big bearded leader took a step towards him. "Or do we have it wrong? Do you think you're going to win, against the lot of us?"
"No," replied Walker, puffing on his dying cigar, "I know I'm not gonna do anything like that," he said as he pulled the tobacco from his mouth. Tombstone was unable to keep his expression from slipping as his lips quirked up into a smirk as he thumbed over his shoulder. "But she is."
That drew another round of howling laughter from the men, the grin on Walker's face only cementing itself as he slowly shuffled to his right, giving Sonja a clear line on the leader, and the Hyrkanian didn't disappoint. Taking a purposeful step forward, the redheaded woman threw a ferocious punch that slammed into the man's face with enough force to send him spinning to the ground.
"Argh, fucking cocksucking whore," swore the man as he cradled his bleeding face while his companions rushed to his aid. "Not me! Her! Get her!" slurred the leader as the other men looked at the grinning Hyrkanian and hesitated.
"Well?" taunted Sonja as she cracked her knuckles, "Will you lot cower like girls, or fight like men?"
Walker could see a range of expressions flash across the men's faces, shock turning to uncertainty and then resting on resolved anger. As one, the three men rushed the Hyrkanian while Walker slipped past them and back onto the porch of the Saloon, leaning against a wooden beam as he watched the fight break out. Sonja didn't seem to be affected by the whiskey, the She-Devil sidestepping the first wild punch that came at her before ramming her fist into the man's gut, knocking the wind out of him and doubling him over while she danced around him, putting him between her and his compatriots. Seeing that they made no moves against her, Sonja raised her boot and unleashed a powerful kick into the recovering man's flank, sending him tumbling into one of his fellows.
Now with only one man facing her, Sonja went on the attack, and even if the man put his hands up in some vain attempt at defense, the Hyrkanian's powerful blows fell upon him like spring rains. Joshua was enraptured by the performance, eyes focusing on the redhead's hands as he struck a match against the beam and relit his cigar while the poor fool continued to have the snot pummeled out of him by the bikini clad woman. In the corner of his eye, he saw the big oaf get back to his feet, blood covering his face, and charge at the Hyrkanian, snarling furiously. Before he could holler a warning, Sonja whipped around and lashed out with a spinning kick, burying the heel of her boot into the man's belly, stopping him short and allowing Sonja to duck under his flailing arms before coming up and grabbing one of his extremities and twist him around, yanking him off his feet and send him skidding across the dirt.
The other three rallied and came at Sonja, clearly more cautious as the Hyborian warrior took a step back and singled one out before charging in, blocking a weak punch before grabbing the man by the collar and ramming a knee into his balls, causing him to scream. One of the other men bravely waded in, throwing a punch that Sonja only partially dodged, taking the blow in the shoulder before unleashing a retaliatory uppercut. The haymaker sent the recipient tumbling ass over ears, and when he finally came to a stop, he lay still on the road.
In the midst of the one-sided brawl, the Bounty Hunter felt a presence beside him, and bringing a hand down to one of his two Schofields. "Sweet lord above," breathed a feminine voice next to Walker, prompting him to turn and see the brunette from the bank, her mouth agape as she watched Sonja lunge forwards and grab a man about the shoulders and shove him back with strength that the woman shouldn't have. "What manner of woman is that?"
"That miss, is Red Sonja," answered Walker while the Hyrkanian dashed forward and delivered a savage kick to the torso of the man she'd shoved down.
Screams of agony cut off the brunette's attempt at a reply as the man curled into a ball and rolled away limply. Sonja turned around to the last two men and went at the smaller one, sidestepping the big oaf and swinging hard at her intended victim, the blow sent him reeling back, slamming into the wooden beam Walker was up against as the Bounty Hunter leapt clear. Sonja charged in and threw one more punch, a cross that caught the man on the chin and caused him to slump to the ground.
Gasping, the brunette beside Joshua rushed to inspect the fallen man, and after failing to rouse him. In doing so, the woman pulled on a piece of twine looped around the man's neck, revealing the medallion hanging from it, which pictured a familiar looking statue on it that set Walker's teeth on edge. "Shouldn't somebody stop her? She might get hurt," suggested the woman, and once Joshua registered the words, he actually laughed.
"There ain't much chance of that, miss," replied Walker before he leaned down to give the medallion a tug, snapping the twine and pocketing the item.
The leader of the bunch rushed Sonja, managing to ensnare the Hyrkanian in a bear hug and tried to drive her to the ground. The She-Devil merely bent her knees, dug in her heels, and stayed on her feet, ramming her elbow back with a snarling yell and drawing a pained grunt from the man. Sonja repeated the motion, throwing more strength into the blows until the man's grip loosened enough from the woman to slip free and spin around, lashing out with a punch that sent the man tumbling to the ground. He tried to get up, but Sonja was upon him and bestowed no mercy, raising her knee and driving her boot down into his back, ramming him back into the street. He rolled over just as the Hyrkanian dropped down, driving a knee into his chest and unleashing a furious salvo of punches into his face until it was a beaten, bloody pulp.
Once satisfied, Sonja stood and spit on the man before turning to Walker, hands on her hips. "You… could have… helped," she said between heavy breaths that caused her breasts to strain against the bikini top.
"You had everything well in hand, Sonja," drawled Walker as he puffed on the cigar, unbothered by Sonja's exasperated look. Sighing, Joshua pulled the tobacco from his lips and gestured towards her with it, "Besides, you needed that, an outlet for all that worry you've had since this morning. It's done wonders for you, my Red Rose.
"Red Rose?" questioned Sonja, surprise taking hold on her face. "On a count of my hair, or the blood of these fools?" In way of answer, Walker merely replaced his cigar and shrugged at the Hyrkanian. "I have been called much less flattering things by much less appealing men," admitted Sonja as she strode towards Walker, reaching his side before she looked back at the group she had handled, "That was true in my land, and it seems to be true in yours as well. Despite all the differences, it seems the men of our lands are not so different."
"Most of the ones here carry guns," observed Walker dryly, and that was something to which Sonja had no reply. Shaking his head, the Bounty Hunter then nodded back to the door, "C'mon, you must be thirsty after all that."
"Thirsty, but also tired," replied Sonja as they walked back towards the door, "It might be best to retire for the evening."
Seeing the look in her eye and the curl of her lips, Joshua nodded and sought out the barkeep, only for the older man to come towards them. "The key to your room sir, number five, up the stairs and on your left," intoned the barkeeper as Walker took the key. "A bath's been prepared as well, it's waiting for you in your room." One of Tombstone's eyebrows rose as he reached for his money, but the older man shook his head and smiled, "No charge sir, it's on the house."
Nodding in understanding, Walker replied, "Much obliged," getting a smile from the bartender before he led Sonja upstairs. Striding past several doors until reaching the one for their room, the Bounty Hunter inserted the key and pushed it open to find a neat, if sparse, room. On the far side was a window and door, and Walker saw a pair of trunks, a large rug, a small table, and a big bed. Joshua's eyes eventually settled on the big metallic tub in the corner, the white bubbles spilling over the edge, and he removed his hat, coat, and gun belt, hanging them on a rack before he ambled over and knelt down beside it. Pulling off a glove and experimentally dipping his hand into the water, Tombstone found that the Barkeep hadn't been lying about the hot bath. "Well ain't that nice," said the Bounty Hunter as he turned to see the Hyrkanian enraptured by the oil lamp that lit the room, "Sonja, you go on ahead and get in."
Meeting his gaze, Sonja strutted towards Walker, hips swaying enticingly before she stopped beside Joshua and gazed down at the tub. "I think that tub is big enough for two. Care to join me?"
"That sounds like a marvelous idea."
Rousing sluggishly, Sonja stretched across the bed and was slightly disappointed to find that she was alone in it. "Oooh, Joshua," she cooed, looking around the room, "Where are you?" Not seeing him anywhere but noticing that the door to the balcony was cracked open, Sonja slid from the soft bed and donned her bikini, left on the floor where she had discarded it the night before. Opening the door the rest of the way and stepping into the surprisingly cool morning, Sonja saw Walker at the table outside, poring over his weapons. Pulling up a second chair, the Hyrkanian sat down beside the Bounty Hunter and wrapped an arm around the man, pulling herself close. "I missed your touch upon waking this morning, Joshua Walker," she revealed lowly. "Is it customary in your land to leave your woman wanting?"
"That's the last thing I want, Sonja," replied Walker as he set his weapons down and leaned back into her embrace, "But I wanted to see that." Sonja looked past the town to the sun coming up over the desert that seemed to stretch on into eternity, the vibrant reds bathing the land. "I wanted to know that I was really back home, know that last night was real."
Hearing the sincerity in his words brought a small smile to her face, Walker's stoicism faltering was a rare occurrence indeed, but it was little surprise that the beauty of this land could evoke such emotion from the man. "It is a truly gorgeous sight," she agreed, when Walker suddenly reached out and pulled her forwards until she was sitting on his lap, looking the man in the eye as his hand was running through her hair.
"Now it's better," he said, and Sonja could not fully suppress the blush that rose up her neck. Leaning in and nuzzling against the man, even going so far as to remove his hat so that she could hold him closer, Sonja found herself not minding the way his stubble rubbed against her exposed skin. Sonja enjoyed the intimate silence that formed between them as they continually embraced until it was broken by Walker. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry for dragging you here with me Sonja, even if I'm happy that you're here."
"It was not your doing," replied Sonja immediately, sitting up and looking Tombstone in the eye, seeing something different on the Bounty Hunter's features, regret. With a touch as tender as the She-Devil could manage, she ran her hand under Joshua's grizzled chin, "I am sworn to hunt down Kulan Gath, wherever he may attempt to hide. If he fled to this land of yours, then I would have followed, and it warms my heart that I am in this incredible land with you instead of on my own. Do not regret the events that brought us here, but thank the goddess that we remain together, I did many times last night."
"I heard," deadpanned Walker, but Sonja saw the smirk on his lips and smiled in response. Walker then leaned in, planting a kiss on the Hyrkanian's lips as he reclaimed his hat, placing it atop his head and looking much more himself. "And since our partnership remains tied, there are some things we need to do." Feeling him give her backside an affectionate pat did not ignite her fury like the prior night, and Sonja smirked as she stood up. "We can discuss over breakfast, they should be serving downstairs, c'mon."
Once the couple had donned their boots and weapons, they descended to the main room where Sonja found a plate of odd-looking food waiting for her. Compared to the night before, the saloon was nearly deserted, with only a half dozen other people gathered around the small tables around the room, the duo sat down at an empty table where Walker promptly dug into his meal. "Scathach protect me," she whispered in prayer before forking some of the odd yellow concoction into her mouth. "Hmmm," she hummed as she chewed, swallowing, "What is this?" she asked, poking at her plate.
"Eggs," deadpanned Walker, clearly amused at the surprise that Sonja knew was on her face before he elaborated. "Scrambled eggs."
"I see," replied the Hyrkanian, her forking tapping along the plate until it reached a small strip of stringy meet, almost like some sort of jerky, albeit much softer. "And this?"
"That, Sonja, is God's gift to breakfast," answered Walker as he picked up his own strip and tore off a piece, chewing and swallowing greedily. "It's called bacon."
Taking a tentative bite, Sonja found the meat pleasantly chewy, but not too tough, and surprisingly flavorful. "First whiskey, and now this bacon, your land truly is one of marvels, Joshua Walker," admitted the Hyrkanian when her eyes shifted from the Bounty Hunter to a brown-haired woman that was moving towards them. Sonja felt as if she had seen this woman, but failed to recall where as she examined her. She wore the odd button-down style of shirt that Walker did, only hers was white, and instead of the long coat, she wore a simple tan vest. Around her waist were two leather belts, one secured her loose fitting pants, a choice of garment Sonja rarely saw on a woman, while the other was a 'gunbelt' like Walker, only hers held a single holster and pistol, with the butt facing forwards.
The woman clearly noticed Sonja's scrutinizing gaze and faltered for a second before mustering her own courage and approaching. "Mind if I join y'all?" she asked, her voice had the same relaxed drawl that Walker had but was considerably more pleasant to the ear. Sonja's eye swung to Walker, his face inscrutable, and she gave a single nod, prompting the Bounty Hunter to push out a chair for the woman. "Mighty kind of you," said the woman as she slid into the seat and set her food on the table.
There was an odd silence as Sonja looked to Walker, expecting him to take the lead in his native land, but the Bounty Hunter was content to wait, it seemed, for this woman to crack under the pressure of his steely gaze. To her credit, this woman held her nerve longer than Sonja expected, but she eventually did falter and spoke first, "Forgive my curiosity, but what manner of people are you? You say you're a bounty hunter who's been missing for years," she said, looking at Walker, before her gaze turned to the Hyrkanain, "And you… I've never heard of the likes of you before, Miss…."
"Sonja," provided the She-Devil, causing this woman to raise an eyebrow.
"Miss Sonja," tried the brunette, the Hyrkanian's name proving to be a source of trouble for her. "You're not from these parts, we don't dress like… well like that. I also saw the tussle you got yourself into last night, there aren't many who can fight like that."
Walker chose that moment to break his silence. "You seem to know exactly what manner of people we are, Misses…."
"Caroline McLaughlin, Miss Caroline McLaughlin," corrected the woman.
"My apologies, Miss McLaughlin," drawled Walker, "So now I must ask, what is it you want with us?"
"The men she beat the tar out of last night, they belonged to Shane Simon's gang. They won't take kindly to what you did, Miss Sonja," explained McLaughlin.
"Let them come, if they fight like those men then we have nothing to fear from them," declared Sonja. "If they wish to taste my fists or my blade, then I will make sure they are satisfied."
Walker had folded his hands, "It's not that simple, Calamity Dame," he murmured, chin resting on his hands. "Tell me more about this outfit, Miss McLaughlin."
"It's the biggest in the county, some say it's a hundred men strong. They rob banks, stagecoaches, rustle cattle, and run rackets from here to El Paso. They're based in an old Army Fort from the fighting with the Comanche, Fort Cassidy, it's about 10 miles south of town," explained the woman. Sonja listened, but the meaning of much of what was said was unknown to her, and so she looked to Joshua, who was contemplative.
After a moment of silence, Tombstone said just one word. "Wanted?"
Caroline nodded, "The reward for Simon alone is ten-thousand dollars."
Even if the rest of his face didn't budge, Sonja could see Joshua's eyes widen, and she understood why. If her coin purse had been four hundred of these 'dollars,' then ten thousand was quite the sum. "Must be a real problem around here."
"More than you know," confirmed McLaughlin lowly. Sonja watched as the woman took a deep breath and leaned over the table. "I run a ranch, not too far to the west. His gang has been giving us a hard time for almost a year, taking our cattle, wrecking and stealing our crops, and my hands can't do much to stop them." The sincerity and pain in her words were clear to the Hyrkanian, it seemed that desperation sounded much the same in this land as her own. "I can't give you anything more than the bounty, but my offer is this: Come with me, you can stay at the ranch, we'll see that you have a roof over your heads and three square meals a day. In return, you protect the ranch from these bandits, and you can claim the bounty on any you get."
"An interesting proposition," drawled Walker as he reached into his pocket and produced a small medallion, which he tossed towards Sonja. The Hyrkanian caught it, "I pulled that off one of the poor bastards from the other night," explained the Bounty Hunter as Sonja examined the engraving on it. "Is that symbol what I think it is?"
"It is his," hissed Sonja, gloved hand clenching around the cool metal, "Of that, there is no doubt." Looking up at this woman, Sonja vowed, "I swear to you, we will crush these brigands and send them screaming into the depths of Erlik's fiery pit."
Caroline met Sonja's words with confusion, and after a moment she turned to Walker, who said, "We accept, Miss McLaughlin. Thank you for your hospitality."
Closing Notes: Alright, that'll do it for this first chapter, next chapter is when things will start to progress in terms of plot, hopefully you all come along for that, I'll see you in a few weeks.
Stay Frosty, Misfit Delta out.