The Shattered Lands - Chapter Four

Rand Irellian's recent exploits catch up with him, and with Dryxovan.

Give me the strength to not shoot those … fucking children.

Rand’s fingers tightened around the plum liquor bottle as he uncorked it, and the ancient entity within him chuckled.

“Wait until they provoke you, at least.”

Rand snorted to himself. “No promises.”

Abika looked up at him from polishing one of the dirtier tankards. She strained to hear him over the music. “What was that, luv? Did you want something?”

“Do you have any food?”

“Ehm … a bit of pork crackling left, should be. Two copper bits if we’ve got it.”

Rand nodded with a smile.

The tables were half empty by now, and the band had almost finished playing. Their music had slowed down to more melodic, even romantic songs, that kept the pentatonic, driving lilt that the faster songs had. Erika’s friends were still at their table, and still giving him the odd sour look, particularly the guard boy.

Half of the plum liquor had disappeared down his throat. It hadn’t had much of an effect, as alcohol rarely did. The only reason he went to taverns in the first place was to listen out for work, and perhaps for the music. Even, rarely, the company of a woman.

“So many scraps of those precious metals in your pouch … and the chatter has begun to quieten.”

Rand tapped his fingers on the bar and put on his hat, drawing the wide brim low over his eyes and lowering his voice. “What’s your point?”

“You linger on the pirate girl. You linger on the office girl. You soften.”

Rand frowned. “You’re wrong, if that’s what you believe. Seven dead cutthroats should satiate you for the moment.”

“There are many left amongst the rocks and clouds of what remains of your world. Some are nearby. Do not forget your purpose. Do not forget the burning fields, champion.”

There was no way he could.

He felt the bottle of plum liquor being tugged from his grasp. His head raised quickly. Abika froze at the sight of his eyes, and swallowed.

“Thought you might be a little worse for wear,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice.

Rand let the bottle go. “Not quite yet … and I did pay for it, after all.”

Abika forced a smile. “Of course … but I don’t want-“

“Any trouble,” he finished. “Neither do I. Is that a powder and ball pistol?”

Abika glanced at the firearm in its holster on her wide hip, with her finger brushing the trigger, and frowned at him. He raised his hands in submission, and she let it go.

“It was my father’s. Still works, and you’d better believe I can hit a bottle at fifty yards with it.”

“I bet you can. Why no brass jackets yet?”

Abika bristled. “You bounty hunters might be able to afford the trip to Ulverland to buy them, but I have a bar to run.”

He shrugged.

“I normally only need one shot anyway,” she grumbled.

“With this lot, into the ceiling probably,” Rand muttered.

“They’re good people.”

“I’m sure they are.” He rubbed his eyes, and a feeling nestled at the back of his mind. It was like an itch, or the goosebump reaction to a cold wind, rippling across his skin. He shivered, and Abika glanced around and checked the shutters for a breeze.

The band played the last few notes of their final song, to a smattering of applause. It took Rand a few seconds to notice, and he joined the praise after a moment. The trio strode to the bar, and were greeted with a round of beers.

“They’re from the lad in the hat,” Abika said with a grin, nodding to Rand.

The singer smiled and raised his tankard. “Appreciate it.”

“Not a problem,” Rand muttered. The feeling persisted, a tingling over his fingertips. “There’s a tip for you all as well behind the bar.”

Before the singer could say anything, the door flew open.

Seven figures walked in. Grinning and pushing each other, they laughed at a high pitched squawk. All were armoured, and pistols and blunderbusses drawn. Their faces were painted with filthy, muddy, thick ink and tar. There were rings around their eyes, spiralling inwards, and immediately, Rand knew exactly why they were here.

He slumped down at the bar, and pulled the hat low over his face. He would have to rely on his ears for the moment. He slowly tipped the plum liquor so it was coating the bar and his trousers. One arm snaked into his jacket, and unholstered the pistol on his right side from the shoulder.

“Barkeep … your finest mind rotting bottles of spirit!” a female voice hollered in an exaggerated, aristocratic accent. “And while you’re at it, present those lovely big milky tits for us and our fellow patrons!”

“Easy now,” Abika started. “No troub-“

She was cut off by the boom of a blunderbuss. Chairs clattered back, people gasped and screamed.

Rand didn’t hear her fall to the ground, and let out a breath. He gritted his teeth.

“Get out your titties, shut yer fuckin’ trap, and get the drinks,” the pirate growled. Her playfulness, and the playfulness of the rest of her brigands, was completely gone.

There was a chuckle from deep inside Rand’s soul. “Well … these are fair game, surely.”

He smirked, and formed a picture of Abika in his mind. He saw, or rather felt, a tiny invisible tether reach from his mind to hers.

Do what they say for now, and whatever you do, don’t go for your pistol.

He heard Abika jerk in surprise, and the pirate step closer. Another laughed hysterically. “Looks like she doesn’t want to, Soraya. Ooo … look at ‘em jiggle as she shakes.”

Don’t worry … they’ll get theirs, but play along for now. It’s not you they want.

He heard Abika sniff, and then buttons began to pop. The pirates cheered.

“There they are!” another one hollered.

“Thank you … my fair … what’s the fucking word they use for those tavern whores with the big…”

“Wrenches,” one of the pirates piped up.

“That’s it! You’ve got gorgeous, massive titties, my fair wrench, but I don’t like it when my women cry! It uglies up the face.”

There was a wet slapping sound, and Abika cried out.

“You the band?”

Glasses clinked. Corks popped.

“Asked you’s a question.”

“Yeah, we’re the band,” the singer grunted.

“Fucking play then!” Soraya screamed.

Silence.

“Come on, lads.” Probably the drummer, voice low.

“Make it a nice, happy tune, and I might not take the little boy with us.”

The aggressive scrape of a chair, then the clap of a hand against someone’s chest. “Just play, and they’ll do their business and leave,” the drummer muttered.

“Is the piss-head one of yours?” one of the pirates yelled. Rand’s finger curled around the trigger.

Maybe there was a head shake, because the matter was left for the moment. Slow footsteps led away, towards the stage. A moment, then the tuning of instruments, then a jaunty tune began to play, the song they had played earlier.

“‘Music hold back the Void in me…’” the singer growled, furious.

“Good … now:” Soraya’s voice rose. “We’re looking for one man. Only one, then you might get back to your drinks and your night.”

“Hmm…” it hummed in Rand’s head.

“Rand Irellian is his name. A vagrant and a murderer. We know he likes to hang about in taverns like yours. He killed a friend of ours, and we want him to pay.”

The entity chuckled. “Oh … this’ll be good.”

“Rand Irellian is the only one who needs to pay … unless you shield him. Then, you’ll share the price. Barkeep! You know Rand Irellian?”

Abika’s breathing got faster. She must have shaken her head.

“Oh, no, no, no. You know every face that comes into your tavern. He’s come here before.”

The heavy hammer of a blunderbuss clicked back.

“Last chance. I’d rather not ruin those lovely big tits with what comes out of the barrel.”

“He’s there!” Someone shouted, a girl. Rand gritted his teeth. The voice had come from Artor’s table, he was positive about that. “The bounty hunter‘s there at the bar!”

There was a scattering of laughter amongst the pirates. Footsteps came closer to Rand.

“Looks a little bit worse for wear, doesn’t he lads?” Soraya laughed.

“Careful, boss,” one of the others said.

“You telling me what to do, piggot?”

“Just sayin’. If that’s him … he killed Vriess and his crew.”

“Yeah, well… he probably did that sober.”

Something wide and metallic poked his shoulder.

“Get up, Irellian.”

“Not going to kill you right away? Isn’t that interesting.”

He groaned drunkly. “…uck offff….”

The pirate Soraya laughed. “Come on, Randy …”

She knocked off his hat, and pushed him. Before he could fall off the stool, he grabbed her wrist and pulled himself back upright. He drew the pistol and pressed it under her chin.

The smug grin on her powder-wrecked face vanished. He pulled the trigger. There was a bang, and her eyes twitched. The top of her shaved head burst.

Immediately he snatched the blunderbuss out of her hands and whipped around behind her twitching corpse. The rest of the pirates shouted and cursed, and the gunfire began.

Soraya’s body jerked as bullets slammed into her. Pain lanced into Rand’s chest as the higher calibre rounds went straight through her armour and hit him.

The first volley stopped, and there was a panicked cry of “Fack!” Three of the pirates began reloading, the other three drew long dirks and ran for him.

Rand shoved the dead pirate at them and pointed the blunderbuss. It belched flame and shrapnel into the closest attacker and kicked him to the floor in pieces.

He dropped it and had the brace of pistols drawn from his hips before it hit the floor. He fired both. One pirate took a hit to the upper chest, the other to the head as he tried to dodge away.

Rand flew at the other three. He drew the second shoulder pistol and fired at one, hitting her in the gut and sending her shot wild into the ceiling.

The other two cursed. The woman drew a dirk as the man continued to reload. Rand whipped his sword from his back-scabbard. The curved blade swished through the air as he dodged a leaping thrust, chopping through her wrists. She stared at the bloody stumps and screamed. Blood streamed and spattered onto the floor.

As Rand looked up, a pistol barked into his chest. He grunted. Blood filled his throat.

“How’d you like that?! You fucking cu…”

Rand’s wild swipe went straight through his neck. The pirate’s triumphant head tumbled off his shoulders, cracked off a table, and rolled onto the floor.

Rand dropped to one knee, unable to breathe. His sliced his palm open, and looked around, counting down the seconds in his mind.

The pirate with no hands fell onto her side. She was shaking, eyes bulging. Rand reached forwards and grabbed the stumps. His blood mixed with hers, and then the process began.

Her eyes bulged wider. The wound on Rand’s palm was like a ravenous mouth, sucking the blood from her body with a wet, slurping sound.

There was a succession of plinks as three bullets popped out of Rand’s chest and clattered to the floor. The blood in his throat receded back into his body. Beneath him, the pirate stopped twitching. Nothing else leaked from her.

He stood up and glanced around. The band and remaining patrons looked up from behind tables and support beams. The only sounds were the ragged breathing and sobbing that echoed around the room. The eyes of the room bulged as they stared at him in horror.

Abika slowly stood from behind the bar, buttoning up the front of her shirt. Her face was set in a grimace, her eyes red. She looked at Rand in the same way he imagined she had looked at the pirates. He gave her a nod.

Only one of the assailants remained alive. He walked over to her slowly, wiping the blood from his blade, and sheathed it on his back again. He stopped in front of her.

She was leaning on a wooden beam, and had the breech of her pistol open on her lap. A little mismatched pile of bullets were on the floor beside her. She looked up at Rand with her teeth bared in fury.

“So … you’re just here for me, hmm?”

Her lip curled. Blood dripped from her mouth. She dove a hand into her pocket and Rand drew the last pistol from the holster on the back of his belt. He pointed it at her head, but all she had was a fist full of white, grey and red powder, that she pressed to her face and inhaled. She cried out and moaned in pain.

“That’s just going to make you bleed out faster.”

She grinned at him wildly, her teeth red. Her hand fumbled with the bullets beside her.

Rand shook his head. “Reload that, and you become a threat. Threats get bullets. Put it down, and you get to live. It’s a good deal, best one you’ll hear today.”

She cackled.

“You’re here for me, that’s fine. How many of you are here for me? That’s the big question.”

Her laugh became a little more strained. Blood was pouring from the wound in her belly.

There was a boom from outside, and a splintering crash. The wooden shutters from the wall by the door exploded inwards at once, and the patrons screamed again. Splinters rained inwards, and Rand turned his face away with a grunt.

A cannon. Had to have been. As he listened, more explosions rang out over Dryxovan.

When he looked down, the pirate had slipped a pistol bullet into the breech, and snapped it closed. Rand put one between her eyes before she could point it at him.

He grunted and began reloading his own weapons. He picked up the pistols he had dropped and loaded a brass jacketed round into each one, replacing them in the holsters. He checked the pirates’ discarded weapons. No rifles, the bastards.

He looked around at the cowering people in the tavern, listening to the cannonfire outside, and anger filled him. “What the fuck are you people waiting for? Abika, you have a cellar?”

She nodded, wiping her eyes. He began walking to the table where Erika’s friends were starting to peek up at him.

“Get them all down there, then. Those that can, pick up the guns and the bullets, and use them if anyone nasty walks in.”

The young men and the girl stood up. One of the lads took a step towards him, the tall one who’d had his arm around Erika while trying to intimidate him. “Look, bounty hunter…”

“Shut your mouth.” Rand looked at the girl, and struck her with the back of his open hand. She yelped. Her male friends began to raise their voices, before Rand drew a pistol. Their mouths closed, and they swallowed.

“You …” Rand growled at the girl. He could feel the dark within him rising, and he beat it down. He’d need it soon enough.

“Listen carefully. If you ever, in your life, even think about doing that again … I’ll leave you at the mercy of drugged out scum like that.” He pointed at the dead pirates. “What they do to girls like you would turn your boyfriends’ stomachs, much less yours. I’ll leave you to them and forget your face, leaving you to pray another man like me will save you from them, or put you out of your misery.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He jogged to the door and peered out. Airships passed overhead, the glow of their burners reflecting off the canvas of their balloons. The streets were clear for now, but more pirates would be landing soon, there was no doubt.

Rand didn’t look back. He drew another pistol, and dived out into the night.