Arthur II.
The walk out of camp and into the mainland was a long and tedious task. With no actual road the three of them had to navigate through rough terrain, many trees, slopes and brush hindering their march forward. It was much to complain about, they have lived as outdoorsmen for most of their lives, but it was still imperative that they got past this forest and locate some semblance of civilization. The others were desperately counting on them to succeed.
XxXxX
The air was fair, but thick, the atmosphere around them felt like that of a bog but there was none in sight. Maybe it was just his tired old eyes playing tricks, Arthur Morgan had gone approximately twenty hours without food or water, and it was starting to affect his stamina. Now, he was a big man and had gone through much worse, but everything that had since happened was draining him of all energy and it was evoking an irritating attitude out of him. Charles fared much better, the man was natural, nothing ever bothered him. He kept walking forward with a steady pace, no defeat in his eyes as he led the way through this damn woods. Javier didn't say much, but when he did it was quick and simple, Arthur guessed that was his form of conserving strength. They were all tired even if they refused to fully show it, but the need to help the rest of the gang was all the motivation required to keep them strong-willed.
"I may not have a pocket watch with me, but I believe that at least two hours have passed since we left camp." Javier spoke up, he was covering the rear, Arthur stayed in the middle, rifle slung over his shoulder as they stepped over broken branches and uprooted rocks.
"The sun speaks the truth. The day will be half done soon." Charles continued walking as the other two followed closely, "Arthur, we can press more or call it a day and return, we have covered much land, any further and we will be too far away to return to the others on time if something were to happen. It's your call."
Arthur stuck close to Charles, having always trusted his words to heart. If he said that the sky was falling, which was an already silly thing to say, he would honestly glance up just to be sure. So, if Charles said it was time to turn back around then it must be true. However,…they had yet to find anything, he was not going to give up now. Any other time he would have agreed with his friend, but the determination was too high for him to surrender.
"We keep going. Just long enough, there has to be something." Arthur stressed to the others.
"Fine by me, I'm not complaining…much." Javier said.
"It's settled then." Charles showed no complaint, fully trusting Arthur's decision.
The three of them resumed their walking, keeping to the trail they were creating. Arthur began to wonder if they had been going around in circles on many occasions, everything looked the same to him, but so far Charles hadn't said anything, so all was good. It was just them three with no other signs of life around them. Lucky for them they were all heavily armed and experienced fighters with a high kill count individually. Whether it be a wild animal, bandits or the local town militia they have always gotten away and unscathed. Arthur looked over at Javier who stayed behind watching their backs for a possible ambush from the rear, that scrawny Mexican was an excellent tracker and hunter in his own right, great with a gun, deadlier with a knife. He would assist greatly in this endeavor as well translate for them once they meet a local. Arthur was still uncertain where exactly they had washed ashore, but he hoped the folk here spoke the right language. Another troublesome thought brewed, what if this was one of them empty islands? Were they forever doomed now?
"I see something up ahead." Charles alerted them.
"What is it?" Arthur asked, good or bad he welcomed this sudden news.
"A road." The half Native confirmed much to the delight of Arthur and Javier.
"About damn time. Let's go amigos." Javier sighed in relief, "Now we have to decide which way to take eh?"
Just as Charles had said there was indeed a dirt road. They crossed the forest and entered a clearing where a long road split the woods in two. The three men looked around for any signs of activity, but nothing came to view. Now they had to decide which way to choose to follow. Arthur looked back and forth from each side, whichever they took they would have to walk on until it led them to a town, tavern or farmhouse, but for how long would they have to walk until such buildings came into view was the worry he was having.
"So, what now?" Javier asked.
"Now? Well now…we have to choose obviously." Arthur's gruff voice reflected his tiredness.
"There's tracks here." Charles had knelt down and examined the dirt road, "Horse prints many of them…there's also a carriage. All heading up north."
"Yeah, he's right Arthur. Many tracks look like they were in a hurry." Javier too examined the many prints left behind by horses' hoofs.
With both of them pointed in the same direction so Arthur was inclined to follow their lead, "Alright then, let's get going, but if nothing shows up after another hour we turn back."
As Arthur and Javier started walking Charles stayed behind and hacked down a few small branches with his tomahawk. Nailing them to the ground he formed a triangle with the three sticks: the way back home. He had done the same on the walk from camp to this point, leaving marks on the many trees in order to find their way back. Looking back, Arthur nodded in approval and continued walking alongside Javier. May they finally find something because the outlaws were beginning to tire out with this long hike through this damn large forest.
XxXxX
With a clear road Arthur's nerves were much tamer, yet the persistent anxiety was ever present. Looking on all sides he kept a sharp eye on their surroundings as they were now exposed to multiple ambushes, danger could come from anywhere at any moment. Now Arthur Morgan was not one to easily bend backwards and has always maintained a cool head through the most stressful times, but right now all cards were off the table. Even as his body operated normally his mind was off somewhere else, too invested in his own worries to pay attention to the road ahead of them.
"Stop that, Arthur." Charles' firm voice brought him back.
"Pardon?" Arthur genuinely asked.
"Stay focused. I know this situation we find ourselves in is the worst of them all, but we need to keep our minds clear if we are to pull through." The older cowboy felt punched by his friend's words, but he spoke the truth. He was getting too distracted with their current misfortune.
"Argh... I'm sorry guys. It's...just too much of this nonsense to keep on receiving. We finally had it made! So, when that damn storm creeped up on us...all was ruined. You can understand just how stressed out I'm feeling right about now." He was frustrated and they understood it perfectly, but it was pointless to argue about it and there was no changing the past, they just had to keep moving forward.
"That's just the way it is." Javier said with somber acknowledgment.
Arthur sighed for they were right. He-they all needed to be clear headed with a lot of open space. Focusing once again the man followed his sworn brothers while keeping one hand on his right holster ready to draw at a moment's notice. Charles and Javier did the same, all three on guard and ready for possible action as they continued on this lonely road. The road began to curve up ahead but that was not what had captured their attention. A flock of birds, vultures by looks, was circling around in the sky far ahead. All three men already knew what that meant.
"We got trouble up ahead, stay sharp!" Arthur commanded as they quickened their pace.
After going around the curve they all saw the reason for the flock of birds; a deserted wagon with both horses still attached to it and dead bodies sprawled around it. With caution the three approached the crime scene with hands firmly on their holsters. Upon closer inspection they each checked around individually for any clues that could lead them into an idea of where exactly they were. Charles went to calm the horses while Javier checked the carriage and Arthur inspected the bodies. There was a total of four dead men, all riddles with arrows and deep cuts and stabs on them. Not a single gun or casing in sight Arthur had noticed. The way they were dressed up was strange for him; leather clothes with what appeared to be shields and actually chainmail?
"This is strange." Murmured Arthur as he checked one of the bodies. It was still warm; the blood was also fresh. The poor bastard had an arrow deep in his chest and his throat was sliced open, a painful way to go out.
"Nothing inside. Just some sealed letters are all that's left." Javier climbed out the wagon and handed them to Arthur to inspect. They were not exactly traditional letters from the post office, these were scrolls and all four of them were sealed shut with red candle wax. The symbol of said seal was of a merman holding a trident.
"This…is odd." Arthur stared at the scrolls and ripped on open, "Kinda old fashion don't ya think?"
Rolling the paper full he scanned the contents of said letter and raised his eyebrows as the confusion swept his countenance fully, "Very old fashion…"
"Arthur!" The concerned voice of Charles led them both around the carriage where they saw him just a few yards off the road and next to a tree.
Once approaching they saw the man who had been hiding from them laying down on the tree, all strength gone from him. He was an old feller, looked like Uncle if Uncle wasn't a drunk who actually took care of himself. His garments were much flashier than those of what Arthur presumed to be his fallen compatriots. He looked very much like one of them paintings of European lords and kings Hosea and he once stole for a quick dollar. There was no need to subdue the man for they could all see he was badly injured; a nasty gash on his head coating half his face with blood and his hand firmly grasping his side where blood was leaking out. His breathing was rough, and he eyed all three with defiance.
"Well, come on then! Finish me you damn thieving bastards!" He wheezed in pain, the injury to his hip too deep for his comfort.
'Well at least he speaks English.' He thought.
"No one is going to do anything of that sort, old man." Charles kneeled down and used a rag to wipe away the blood on the man's face, Arthur and Javier stood guard for anyone else possibly lurking about.
"Looks like you guys got hit hard. Classic ambush." Arthur exclaimed.
"Fucking...highwaymen, I should have...have been more prepared, my liege will-he will never forgive me...if she has been harmed!" Bemoaned the man as Charles checked his injuries.
"Arthur, I saw no girl around the bodies." Javier told Arthur who nodded.
"Do you know where they could have taken her?" Charles asked, Arthur frowned as he already knew that his friend had made up his mind.
The man coughed blood on the rag before looking at Charles, trying to decipher any malice behind his words. Arthur felt all this as unnecessary, what they needed was resources not a wild goose chase for what is likely a dying man. Javier had the same sentiments as Arthur but remained quiet. "You three are dressed oddly. You ain't from here, aren't you? Essos would be the guess." He looked at Charles.
"Listen I'll grant you silver if you can retrieve my lord's niece back from those savages." The mention of the valuable metal was clear to their ears, Arthur was mildly interested now.
"Oh, we'll happily take the offer, but what we need is food and a roof to sleep under. We have others who need those exact things, partner." Arthur negotiated.
Helped to his feet the man groaned as the wound in his hip hissed with each movement of his body, Charles led him to the horses, "We were heading to King's Landing from White Harbor for trade and other important matters. The...The Twins is not that far away we can rest there...as long as Walder doesn't demand anything in return you and your men can be well rested within his keep. Bring my lady back and I'll be indebted as well as Lord Manderly himself."
None of what he said made a lick of sense to the three. Those names were about as English as they could be invented in Arthur's ears. All that mattered is that he now had a location to explore and this man would put in a good word if they rescued this girl of his. Seeing no other choice, he agreed to help. Helping the man up on one of the horses, he instructed Javier to ride back to camp, follow the marks leading back and inform Dutch of all that had transpired.
"What's your name mister?" Arthur questioned.
"Ser Anton Porter...milady's name is Alara Manderly. Now hurry!" Anton demanded.
Once Javier and the man rode off Arthur and Charles stayed behind. The cowboy removed his hat and wiped away the sweat on his forehead, a mild headache dancing around his skull, "This is turning into one of those days." Charles grinned at his friend's expression and saddled up on the gray horse.
"Are you serious?" He looked at Charles' extended hand, offering him a ride.
"You're welcome to run after me." Charles kept a straight face much to Arthur's amazement. 'Did he just…?'
XxXxX
Both rode down the same road together. At least a good few mile they had traversed on horseback in a matter of minutes in comparison to the lengthy walk they had to endure earlier. Charles paid close attention to the ground, keeping a sharp eye on the tracks they've been following, he was certain they were the right ones, Arthur did not argue. The sun was beaming above them, bright and colorful as they pressed on. Looking up the white clouds were scattered with a bright blue painted above them, such a stark contrast to the day before when they first washed up ashore.
"What do you make of this whole mess?" Arthur asked, thinking back to all that was said to them, "I've heard of a place called Kingston before, but King's Landing? And what's up with the whole 'lord' nonsense that fellow...Porter was speaking of? Sounds like that head wound of his is deeper than we thought.
"I don't know what to tell you. All that matters is that he promised food and shelter if we can rescue this girl of his. That's all that should matter at this point."
"Yeah... guess you're right." Arthur drawled.
They rode in silence for a bit longer; there was nothing else to speak of. He needed to get back to the others and take them all to this place called 'The Twins' and feed them. Christ, how he wished he had his journal with him, kept track of all these names and places he was being bombarded with. Once they get back to some town that will be the first thing he purchases.
"Smoke fire up ahead. The tracks go off the main trail. They've made camp." Charles steadily led them both off the road.
After hitching the animal, Arthur and Charles quickly entered the wooden area again, but with more caution and their revolvers already drawn. They soon could hear the laughter of men up ahead. Those must be the kidnappers, well unaware that they've been found. The two outlaws creeped up on the encampment keeping to the shadows of the brush and observed the group in question. "I see a total of five. That tent over there…she must be in there. We can also take those horses once we're done here."
"Alright, I'll go around them. Catch them off guard from opposite ends." Arthur stayed put as Charles silently went around.
Arthur listened to the loud conversation those kidnappers were having, any form of information is valuable at this point, "You know that the Starks will come after us, this damn girl is a damn Manderly. Eddard Stark does not forgive!"
"Lord Stark personally executes his prisoners; I don't fancy myself on the chopping block. We'll take off for the Vale, disappear into the mountains for a few weeks." Another man spoke.
"Let's ransom her. Get us some gold from fat Wyman Manderly." A third pitched in.
"The damn North never forgets. We'll be dragged in chains to either Winterfell or White Harbor before an exchange is ever agreed upon!"
'These guys don't look so different from the others back there.' He quickly seemed to notice the ongoing trend, but figured that this was the fashion around here, wherever here was. Hugging the tree, he kept his finger on the trigger of his silver-plated Schofield. He failed to see any guns on them, just swords and hatchets. Were they that broke? I did not matter; it would be a much easier job dispatching them all with those odds. Charles was well hidden. But Arthur knew he was already in place and waiting for his command or the sound of gunfire to erupt. Checking again he counted heads once more. Five as before, most of them around the fire, drinking and chatting about. One stood up and walked away from the others.
"I gotta piss lads, be right back."
"Don't take too long, or you'll miss your turn with that northern bitch."
Now that was crossing it for him. Taking a deep breath with eyes closed Arthur broke cover. In a smooth transition he marched towards them, handgun drawn having mentally marked his intended targets with an invisible skill he seemed to possess. Before the men got a chance to react to his presence, all four sitting around the fire got fired upon by the gunslinger. Four perfectly aimed headshots, four instant deaths. The one who walked away to relieve himself turned around in utter shock to the noise behind him, only to witness the quick deaths of his cohorts. Charles emerged from the trees and with his sawed-off shotgun carved a bloody crater into the man's back, dropping him dead. The camp was quiet. Arthur walked to the center of the campfire and out of instinct began to loot the bodies for any valuables.
Having disregarded the main tent, he did not notice the man rushing out with a war cry. With a sword in hand, he raised it above his head and was aiming for Arthur's own. Before either man could respond to each other, Charles threw his tomahawk with precision to save his friend. The axe connected to the man's neck sending the would-be attacker sprawling ungraciously on the ground. Blood squirting out the man violently spasmed as if his brain had been shocked by electricity.
"Shit! Thanks for the save, Charles."
"I'll round up the horses."
"You do that. I'll check on the girl. Or what's left of her…" He muttered and reached the tent.
Carefully and with his gun drawn this time he took a peek inside the shoddy tent. Inside was the stolen merchandise as well some bedrolls and the girl in question, curled up in a fetal position with both hands tied behind her back. He can hear her whimpering cries as her tiny body shook in terror to the bloodshed she had to hear occur outside. Putting his gun away he carefully kneeled down and touched her shoulder. She began to violently shake him off as her cries grew louder, her mouth was gagged, or she'd be screaming right about now. "Woah now! Easy there, girl, it's alright now. You're safe. Those men are dead. We're here to rescue you okay."
The fear and distrust in her face was evident. Arthur was well accustomed to such looks. Her brown hair was unkempt, body frail with not enough meat in her bones. Her dark green dress was dirty with blood adorned across it, but it was not her's to worry about, "Your friend, Ar-Arno…Anton Porter he's alive and sent us for you. Alara Manderly correct?"
That named seems to ease her off a bit, so Arthur removed the gagged rag around her mouth, praying she would not bite him in return, "We'll take you to camp and from there Mr. Porter will direct us to this place called The Twins. Does everything sound about right?"
"...don't hurt me…please don't…" She was scared and what began to hurt Arthur the most was that on closer look she was no more than at least eleven years of age. Was he glad to have killed those animals after hearing their gleeful excitement at having their way with this innocent child?
"Let's just get out of here and somewhere safe." He helped her up, cutting her bonds and leading her outside. Charles had the horses ready, four in total plus the one they arrived on the rest he set free. Helping her to his horse the three of them left the place behind, leaving the corpses to become food for the wildlife.
The ride back was quiet. Charles rode behind keeping a grasp on the three other horses which would serve the gang well. Arthur took point with Alara hugging him in order to not fall off the galloping beast. Once they had reached the part of the road, they had stumbled upon they took a detour into the woods. Alara became alarmed by this sudden change, but Arthur did his best to calm her already sacred heart. "Our camp is near the coast, please trust me when I say that Porter is there waiting for your return."
'Shit, he was badly wounded. This will be troublesome if he's already dead.'
"Are you sellswords?"
"Huh?" Her meek voice was soft as the arms holding on to him for dear life, "Sell…sword? Not quite sure what that means, but we are just a group of people trying to survive in this nasty world."
Camp came into view as did the rest of Arthur's ragtag family. He never felt so happy to see them all again, even Micah against all his rational thinking. Hitching the animal, he helped the young miss off and led her to the others. She naturally hides behind him, taking a timid glance at the people present. Arthur felt awkward as the girl now probably viewed him as her knight in shining armor and he knew the others knew by their snickering.
"How did it go Arthur?" Lenny all too eagerly asked.
"About as usual as it can be for us. Where's Dutch at?"
"Speaking with Mr. Porter." Arthur let out a sigh of relief. 'So, he lives.'
Something was off about them all and they weren't even hiding it from him. They all carried a look of disbelief. Their faces were sending him a very bad feeling which he was not fond of, "What's with all the faces? Did something happen while we were gone?"
"Shit has gotten weird Arthur, really, really weird." Karen said.
"It's best you go speak with Dutch and Hosea about this Mr. Morgan. Don't forget to eat some venison from the deer Sadie caught for us." Pearson told him.
"Okay…can uh, one of you…" He looked down at Alara who remained behind him, she was holding on to his shirt afraid to let go of him in the presence of so many strangers. Mary-Beth approached the child with that sweet smile of hers. Her blue eyes warm with genuine kindness as she reached out for her, "Hey there, you must be Alara right? That's such a beautiful name. My name is Mary-Beth."
Alara seemed to quickly take a liking to her and accepted her hand. "Thank you. Your name is pretty too." Mary-Beth took her off Arthur's hands and walked away with the girl. She gave Arthur a wink and focused back on her conversation with the timid young girl. He smiled at her help and walked over to Dutch and Hosea to discuss further plans.
"Well, I'm back." He announced to the two, who had been speaking privately.
"Oh, my son! It's great to have you back with us!" Dutch hugged Arthur tightly, getting the seasoned outlaw slightly embarrassed with the display of affection.
"There's much to discuss Arthur. So…much to discuss." Hosea spoke softly, his eyes staring off into the distance.
"Can one of you two please explain what's gotten the whole camp in such a down mood. I get that the past twenty-four hours have been shit, but what happened now?"
"When was the last time you checked the calendar, my boy?" Dutch inquired.
"I 'Dunno?" Arthur shrugged.
"When we left Saint Denis, the date was Tuesday 17, 1899." Hosea clarified for them. Arthur still did not understand.
"According to the two different individuals that we have in camp and who have never met each other before in their lives have stated the same story. Word-for-word." Dutch sighed, even he was uncertain of himself, and Arthur could tell that the man was having trouble accepting what he was about to say. "Apparently, we all washed ashore in the continent of Westeros, home of the Seven Kingdoms of the Andals and First Men in the region of the Riverlands...one of said kingdoms."
Arthur was deathly silent, "…also the year is 297 AC."