Hosea I.
People have always said that purgatory is the plane between heaven and hell. That those with the most forgiving sins spend an eternity lingering about in absolute limbo, allowing their souls to burn away all the sin before being ascended into heaven. A place of memories and regrets. Oh how much did the elderly outlaw wish that was the case right about now. All of them, most of them were trapped on some godforsaken island in the Caribbean or on the shores of Venezuela or Brazil. Low on supplies and low on spirits, they were beginning to fall into misery's cold-hearted embrace.
Everyone in camp, if it can even be called such a word, were mending themselves, licking their wounds of failure and despondency. Hosea was sitting on a log next to the fire, next to Susan. The old woman was shivering cold, despite the warm heat next to her. Hosea only prayed that the sickness would pass by for they we're empty-handed with any worst of medicine.
"Stay strong Susan, everyone is going to miss your wonderful voice if you don't." He humored her.
"How low of you Mr. Matthews, how despicably low of you." She chuckled, gripping the canvas wrapped around her body closer to her.
"I'll leave you be." Hosea politely excused himself and checked up on the whole gang, making himself useful and not just idle about without purpose.
While the others stuck together, watching each other's backs as a family should out by the edge of camp stood Dutch all alone with no own to spark a conversation with. Hosea frowned at the state of his dear friend and longtime partner in crime. If anybody was having the worst time of their life amongst them all it was surely the man who shouldered the burden of responsibility for them all. Even before he approached him, Hosea could see the man's mind already spinning itself into exhaustion. Mumbling incoherent words to none the wiser, eyes as wild as they have ever been staring into an invisible abyss that only he could witness. The toll was heavy for his oldest friend. The crown was painfully heavy to carry at this moment.
"The plan...the plan is... faith and trust...faith and trust. We will prevail, we will survive God-damnit!" Dutch rambled on with harsh whispers as Hosea stepped forward, making his presence known.
"Dutch…?" The man looked up and all symptoms of anxious mutilation evaporated upon gazing at his most loyal trustee.
"Hosea...how is everyone doing?" Dutch hides his worries with a quick shift of tone, his personality back to that of the caring leader he has always been.
"Just about a bit less miserable than before. They have hope, hope and faith that Arthur and the others will find something. Whether it be a town or a passerby or a simple road; they have placed all their faith on this expedition of ours." Hosea looked down at their sole sack of gold, how did it not sink? Who knows? "We must protect this at all costs. It's the currency that will keep us alive moving forward."
Dutch stood up, now at even eye levels with the elderly outlaw, "We are the ones keeping ourselves alive. Money or no money, this family of ours has always prevailed. Now this…" He pointed down at the bag, "...it's a necessity, yes, but we have survived many times without it too."
"Not this time Dutch." Hosea eyed him strongly, his irises reflecting the grave tone of his voice, "This time is vastly different. This is America no more; we are on foreign land and the only thing stopping the locals from eating us alive are those guns of ours and that gold right here for supplies and bribery."
"One thing at a time my friend, we still have to wait for Arthur to return. Don't ever lose hope. Keep your faith strong." Dutch laid both hands on Hosea's shoulders, a kind smile to hide any insecurities or conflicting doubts, but such tricks were becoming stale for the older man to fall for.
"I trust you. Always have and still will. I just worry for the others, not us capable killers, but for the women, for little Jack. They are my greatest concern." Hosea specified.
Both friends sighed in mutual agreement. Food was beyond minimal and potent water was basically non-existent, if the elements didn't claim them first, starvation would. They could only pray and have immense faith in Arthur. Hope that their adopted son will return soon with great news for them all. Looking back, he spotted someone emerging from the woods; a man he'd never seen before and, on his shoulders, a decent sized deer he was carrying along. Just as he alerted the others of this intruder's presence in camp, he spotted Sadie with her gun drawn leading the man forward to the center of camp where the other stood on guard armed and cautious of the stranger.
Hosea didn't expect this, but perhaps this could ease the thick tension and fade away the gang's low morality. Him and Dutch approached, eager to finally have some answers from this apparent prisoner of theirs.
xXxXx
This was turning out to be quite a headache on everyone. Tied up against a tree, the man by the name of Tobin that Sadie brought to camp had been questioned over the exact whereabouts of their mysterious location. What he said in response left all of them beyond baffled and downright incredulous to ever believe such words. Dutch had been polite of course, this stranger was just some unfortunate man caught by Mrs. Adler for questioning, however that changed once Sadie revealed the original intentions of him and his now deceased partner. Gone were the pleasantries and now the rough and tough interrogation began, they may be thieves and killers, but rapists, that was a hard line that they all equally despised. And at the moment Bill was kindly laying in some heavy hits on their tied-up captor as Dutch, Hosea and Sadie looked on without remorse.
"That's enough Bill." Dutch ordered the former soldier who ceased the beating and backed off, "Now listen to me…I already don't appreciate one bit what you dared to do to our dear Mrs. Adler, so you are only testing my patience even further by giving out such nonsense from that tongue of yours!"
"...The fuck is…wrong with you people? Did you all fall from the sky? Were the whole lot of you…born yesterday?" Tobin spit out blood from his busted lip, glaring at them all with a mixture of anger and confusion. The urge to strike at them was suppressed from the ropes keeping him attached to the tree, "This is the bloody Seven Kingdoms of Westeros! We are all in the Riverlands for fucks sake! What is wrong with you all? Are you people fucking stupid or something?"
"Cut the horseshit already!" Sadie barked back, she like everyone else was tired of his so-called factual claims.
"Mrs. Adler speaks for us all. You are digging your grave deeper and deeper by the seconds the more you attempt to mock our intelligence sir." Dutch growled at Tobin who could only press his body hard against the tree bark as Bill pulled out his knife and waved it dangerously close to the man's neck.
"Dutch, let me cut his fingers. He won't bullshit us any further after that." Bill grinned evilly at Tobin whose eyes dared not lose sight of the knife's sharp tip.
Hosea grimaced at the thought, extreme torture was an unpleasant business, one he desired no part in. Now he did not mind beating the man silly or simply putting a bullet in his skull, but to butcher the young man over a simple question was overkill in a way besides they needed to conserve as much ammunition as possible, this man was not worth a bullet. Hosea looked over at Dutch and his expression was one of contemplation, but eventually his frustrated features mellowed down as he now seemed to agree with Hosea's line of thinking too.
"Forget it Bill, Arthur will be back soon with a full report. No need to stain our clothes with fresh blood. Keep an eye on him, in fact get Micah over here so you two can rotate, give him something to play with." Dutch waved Tobin off and walked away.
Hosea shook his head as Sadie left too leaving just him and Bill alone with their captive. Everything that man had said so far made no lick of sense to him; Westeros, Seven Kingdoms, King Robert Baratheon? None of that rang a bell. Now Hosea prided himself as an intellect both him and Dutch did, one of the main traits that caused them to gravitate towards each other, but a country, seven of them, all ruled by a single king was unheard of. He knew his basic knowledge of European history and what this man claimed this island or massive country to be sounded directly out of ancient Europe. It was beyond preposterous what he was claiming to be the truth. Yet, the man sounded so sure of himself, believed his own words and said it all with a straight face which showed no hesitation nor breaks. He has never met another man who could create such an outlandish tale off the top of their heads and deliver it without fault. There was more to this, but for now Tobin kept to his story and claimed them as the crazy ones for not knowing.
He then remembered something that Sadie had mentioned to him. It was stupid, he felt stupid by just thinking about it, but his mind was already goading him to carry out this strange test as he pulled out his revolver, "Do you have any idea what this is?"
"It's that iron club that summons thunder! She killed my friend with it, his face was just gone! What kind of evil sorcery is that" The fear in Tobin's eyes was the confirmation he needed, and it was not a good feeling Hosea Matthews was experiencing.
"Thunder-what? Boy are you stupid? Who doesn't the hell know what a gun is?" Bill was taken aback by Tobin's response too, even the angry rifleman was left dumbfounded.
Putting his revolver away, Hosea spoke no more and left Bill and their captive be. His mind was all over the place, this man was just a single man, probably was mentally ill and could not tell the difference between fiction and reality. The elderly outlaw could not come up with a much more comforting excuse. His only remedy now was for Arthur to return with the others so that his report of the land can grant his troubled mind some ease. Walking past the girls, Tilly called out to him to which he politely acknowledged her.
"Hosea, what did you guys find out from that man? Where are we?" Mary-Beth and Karen stood behind her, all three of them eager to learn of their status. Curiosity and hopefully desire in their young eyes, seeking any form of confirmation to ease their worries.
"He…is being a bit tight-lipped about it." Hosea would never lie to his family, his brethren, but why should he tell them the same answer that he was given? They needed assurance, not crazy talk.
"Well make the bastard talk, sic Micah on him. Sadie told us what that scumbag planned to do to her, show him no pity and beat the answers out of him!" Karen said her aggression was loud and clear, the other two were not as vocal, but their faces showed agreement to Karen's proposal.
Walking to the other side of camp he greeted Abigail and Jack alongside Uncle who was telling hilarious tall tales to the young boy. The man may be a sloth and drinker, but he was doing his part by entertaining the scared boy if only it was his father in that role instead. Elsewhere Sadie and Pearson were chatting while Swanson kept Ms. Grimshaw company by the fire. John, Lenny and Micah were keeping watch as Bill kept antagonizing their prisoner for accurate information. Far by the edge of camp by himself was Dutch, pondering in silence to everything that man had told them. The more he thought about it the more ridiculous it was becoming. Why on earth would that man withhold the name of the country they were in? Why would he give them or come up with such an outlandish name as the 'Seven Kingdoms of Westeros'? Was it all a game to him, he would know better since they were in a position to just end his life then and there?
"Please hurry up Arthur…this is all getting too ridiculous to handle." Hosea implored to the heavens.
xXxXx
Judging by the sun's position it was already past twelve o'clock. Arthur, Charles and Javier still had not returned and no new information or semblance of truth had been extracted from Tobin, even with Micah handling the man's interrogation. Tobin was keeping to his story and he was being extremely adamant that it was the truth and the rest of them were insane to believe otherwise. He had mentioned other places such as King's Landing, Riverrun and Winterfell, but all those names were foreign to him. Feeling exhausted he took a seat and watched the activities in camp which weren't that many anyhow. Taking a seat on one of the crates of rifles he clasped together his hands, dry skin rubbing against one another as the wrinkles exposed his aging body. His mouth was dry as was his stomach growling for sustenance. He was very tired and would have preferred to have a quick rest and gain some shut eye, but he refused his body's pleas and chose to remain active and keep the gang safe and running.
"Hey there Hosea." A raspy voice came about and without looking the older man waved at his young ward from the direction he was standing.
"John. Looks like we have seen better days, don't ya think?" He offered him a simple smile, one bearing no meaning.
"Looks that way. The Grizzlies were a frozen hellhole, but at least we had shelter." John held his rifle in arms and stood next to his beloved mentor, "Was all that bull-crap that man saying true? Did we land in Europe or something or is he just not right in the head?"
"Who knows. He believes it with all his heart. It's hard to find fault in his words. I have no idea why he is being uncooperative, but none of that will matter once the others come back." Hosea gave out a lengthy sigh, what a day it had been so far. Their only source of information was a man who was possibly out of his mind, imaginary countries, imaginary kings, never seen a gun before and believed in magic. Just what was occurring in that man's brain he wondered.
"Abigail and Jack need shelter, they can't be out here much longer. Food, water, fresh clothes…all the essentials." John replied, the obvious need that they were all lacking.
"Trust in Dutch and trust in Arthur." Hosea simply replied.
"Dutch…Dutch has been awfully quiet, keeping to himself. I tried speaking to him…he asked me to carry out my duties and let him be for the time being." John said. He sounded concerned as well as bothered by their leader's attitude, "It's strange and badly strange to see him like this. And no Ms. O'Shea to reign him in now."
Molly O'Shea; Dutch's latest young conquest, how quickly it had turned sour. Hosea was not surprised to have learned of the young woman's sudden departure from Shady Belle after their successful heist. Dutch had neglected her for so long; the cherished love had died out and so did her loyalty to him. Dutch viewed this as treason, but at the same time felt no real concern over her heartbroken decision, he was over her and didn't bother to seek her out or ever mention her again. Hosea sometimes could not understand him, a friendship of over twenty-five years or so and Dutch's mind was still an enigma to him. Sometimes he cared, other times he forgot, sometimes he was merciful and just then suddenly he could become a wraith of pure vengeance. Dutch Van Der Linde was a unique man.
"She made the wise choice of leaving." Hosea looked at John and shrugged, "Look at us, better her than the rest of us sorry delinquents."
"Lucky her." John sighed.
Hosea stood back up, stretching his arms before placing a firm hand on John's shoulder, "John, we have always been together, rode together, robbed and laughed together. You and Arthur are my boys as much as you are Dutch's know this."
"I do Hosea…what are you getting at?" John raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not a young man anymore John, my time's almost up." It was a fact, the former more than the latter. He was pushing deep into his fifties and beginning to fall behind out in the playing field. Oh yes, he can still con, lie and swindle those are his best attributes, but the gunfights, armed robbery and every day dangerous shenanigans? That was a young man's game, and it was time for him to hang the hat while he still had a chance. But after such a close encounter with death…Hosea was spooked. Strauss' untimely death and Susan's condition was only bringing out the worst from him. Put it in simple terms; he was afraid, afraid of his growing age, afraid that he would soon have to face the reaper and be dragged away from the world of the living.
He wanted to protect them all, but he knew that he was not up to the task in whole. That is why he thanked God for the two youngsters that he raised. They would lead the pack when he and Dutch would be no more, John and Arthur were the promise of a better tomorrow and he marveled with joyful pride at their growth. Especially John, whatever funk he was clouded by these past few years it was finally dissipating from the young man's mind. He was starting to become a family man and Hosea couldn't be prouder of him.
"Hosea…please don't say such things." The hurt in John's voice was expected, the man was his foster father. He was loyal to Dutch without question, but Hosea invoked the meaning of family much stronger than the latter.
"Keep an eye on Dutch for me. You and Arthur must keep his head intact, I can only do so much. That man can be stubborn and downright frightful during stressful times like these, we must keep morale high. We all have a part to play. United we stand John, united we stand." Hosea spoke wisely.
"Divided we fall…" John finished the statement.
"Guys! Javier is back!" Lenny yelled out across camp, everyone or rather most quickly marched to greet their returned brother but were surprised to find him riding a horse. Not only did Javier return alone and with a horse, but with him was an older feller, bloody and clinging onto the Mexican for dear life.
"Javier, who is this man?" Dutch questioned as Pearson and Lenny helped Javier lower the injured man off the horse, wet blood stained on the man's gray tunic and brown leather trousers. The wound originated from his left hip where the great concentration of blood was leaking out.
The man winced in pain as he was helped. On his hip dangled a sheathed small sword and his black boots dragged against the dirt as he quietly thanked Lenny and Pearson for the assistance. Looking at the man Hosea figured him to be about the same age as him, he had a gash on his bald forehead and the blood trickled down his face as it made contact with his equally gray beard and mustache staining it red. Another thing he was quick to notice was the same style of garments this man was wearing, not that different from their held prisoner plus the sword. What were the odds or was it all too coincidental at this point? Pushing those thoughts aside he focused back on Javier, it was just him alone, so what had become of Charles and Arthur?
"Javier, where are Arthur and Charles?" Dutch spoke what Hosea was thinking.
"Shit got complicated. This whole mess is getting more and more complicated by the hour." Javier dismounted and stood before the gang, "Arthur and Charles stayed behind. They're on a rescue mission."
Thank you so much for the many likes and follows it truly does mean much. You can now see the formula I'm following. Try to guess who else will be POV's. The story is starting to pick up steam. Slowly and steady.
Riggnorok - Thanks for the save.