Middle Ground - Chapter 5

Middle Ground - Chapter 5

Chapter 5
[Every Day Is Exactly The Same]

“It’s easier to run…”
-[Linkin Park]

A fat lot of good that armor had done him.

Brigg lay on his back in a pile of hay, groaning. Blood was seeping from the wounds in his shoulders, staining his clothes. And he’d just cleaned this damn coat too.

Midna had managed to slip both blades through the gaps in his armor not just in the front, but in the back as well. She was a dangerous adversary. To leave her a single small opening spelled out a world of pain, and usually death for those she fought against. She was one of the best in her field. No matter how strong he himself was, Brigg couldn’t let himself forget that.

He found himself sitting inside a small barn, partially hidden by a loft overhead. Hay was strewn everywhere, but the barn was empty aside from various mining implements, and didn’t look like it had been used for anything recently. Which was why he’d chosen this as his escape destination the last time he’d been here. His sword and pack sat nearby. He’d grabbed both before the jump, having thrown the pack over to the spell circle as soon as he’d sensed Midna. His hat sat lopsided on his head.

The Inhuman siblings lay on the ground next to him, disoriented from the spell jump. Both were wearing the same thing Brigg had seen them in the previous night, which likely meant that they’d slept that way. Considering what he’d overheard through the wall, they were on the run, so they might not have changed clothes in case they needed to make a quick getaway, like Brigg. It showed that they at least had some sense. Or they could have just not had any extra clothes.

The blonde clutched at his bleeding leg, face creased with pain. The wound didn’t look too serious, nothing that couldn’t be healed without much trouble. They just had to stop the bleeding before it became a problem, and it would take considerably longer to bleed out than the gaping holes in Brigg’s shoulders. Of course, Inhumans were more resilient than normal humans and he’d probably be able to hold out for a while more, but why take chances?

The man’s sister rolled over on the ground, rubbing at her head. She didn’t even bother looking around at her surroundings, neglecting everything else around her as she immediately crawled to her brother’s side, gently laying a hand on his leg in concern. It was obvious she cared for her brother over anything else.

Brigg felt a stab of jealous nostalgia. He’d known what that felt like, a long time ago. To care for and to be cared for; the memories were the only thing that drove him now. He wanted to feel that again. It was all he had left.

“Aouri!” The girl began speaking to Aouri in French, peering into his face to make sure he wasn’t passing out.

“Ah, ‘e’ll be all right,” Brigg said. He gritted his teeth and set about forcing his extremities into motion. He began to lift his left arm, and his shoulder exploded into a colorful variety of painful sensations, but he didn’t give up. He moved the arm all the way over to his opposite shoulder, placing his hand over the bleeding hole there. Then he closed his eyes and began to focus on a spell he had to use far more often than he’d like.

“Hey, buddy, you dead a’ready?” The girl’s voice cut into his concentration. “He all shot ‘cause o’ you. You got us inna dis mess an’ if you dies on me I swears Imma drag you back ‘n kill you twice more.”

Brigg opened one eye and stared blankly at her. “Look miss, he ain’ gon’ die, an’ he won’ even miss that leg once they amputate.”

The look on her face almost made him squirt blood out of his nose “Pardon?!”

He chuckled, his shoulders regretting it soon after, and closed both eyes again. “It was a joke, calm down. Jesus… Gon’ burst a blood vessel ‘n bleed out, an’ it’ll be yer own damn fault.”

She glared at him and stood to her feet. “Yeah, while you sit dere ‘n soak in yo’ blood, Imma go get folk’s can help. Try ‘n stay ‘live ‘till I get back.”

Brigg gave a smoky sigh. “Hey girlie, just sit tight, okay? Shuttup fer a sec, Imma heal myself, then Imma heal yer bro too, fer a small fee, an’ we all live happily ever after, all that jazz, okay?”

She just stared at him like he was crazy. He didn’t really blame her.

“…Okay, the fee thing was a joke, too. Seriously, lighten the fuck up.”

That just seemed to make her angrier. “L'amour de Dieu, is dis whole t’ing a joke to you?”’

“Hysterical. The sight o’ blood jus’ cracks me the hell up. That an’ I had such a pleasant wakeup call, I can’t help but be in a damn good mood.” That lingering post-fight adrenaline always left him in a snarky mood. Or maybe it was the blood loss. He probably should have been a bit more distressed by the whole situation, but it would likely kick in later. He’d probably sink into a depression sometime around noon.

The girl shook her head and knelt by her brother’s side again as he began to stir a bit more. “You’s is crazy, malade.”

“Wait ‘till I ‘ave my mornin’ coffee.” Brigg made a cuckoo whistle and let out another chuckle, which turned into a groan.

The brunette arched an eyebrow at him but made no further remarks. Her eyes roved over his shoulders, and she winced a bit. “Dose look bad… You oka-- No, stupid question. Sorry.”

Brigg snorted. “Yeah, a very stupid question. But y’ know, I’m just daisy. Peachy keen, fine ‘n dandy, blah-dee-blah. Bit light-‘eaded, blood loss ‘n all that, but it’s like a drug high, very relaxin’… ‘cept the pain part kinda cancels that out. Now shuttup ‘n lemme concentrate.”

She started to ask what he was concentrating on, but he cut her off with a sharp “Ah ah!” and she fell silent. Finally. He’d bleed to death at this rate, the way she was jabbering. Women…

With a few moments quiet he brought to mind the image of a particular spell circle and then focused on his hand. He felt a pulse of energy in his hand, and he didn’t have to look to know that the spell circle had appeared on the palm of his hand. Circles could be conjured up in an instant if one managed to retain a near-perfect memory of the symbols that composed it. The resulting spell was usually sloppier than if you’d traced the circle out by hand, but occasionally time was of the essence. Like now.

The spell began to work its magic (oh, he was funny) in short order, and he could feel it begin to affect the wound in his shoulder. And by affect, he meant that the area burst into waves of blazing agony, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it as best he could. That was just how he could tell the spell was working. The injury was healing.

He wasn’t going to heal it completely, but just enough to stop the bleeding and close it up enough that it wouldn’t tear open again when he moved. It was a deep wound, so it would take him about two or three minutes. He was just lucky she hadn’t pierced the bone.

To distract himself he opened his eyes and looked over at the girl, who was watching him curiously. He gave her a small wave with his other hand.

“I feel like we got off t’ a kinda rough start. What wit’ you pullin’ sharp objects outta my shoulders an’ me gettin’ yer brother shot in the leg. But I wanna put all that behind us now. That was what, three minutes ago?” He held out his free hand to her as best he could. “I’m Brigg. Nice t’ meet ya, Miss…” Considering what he’d overheard from their room, he doubted Ma’ was her real name.

She was still staring at him as if he were crazy, but now she looked to be at least partially amused by it. After a moment she leaned forward and took his hand, shaking it in a firm grip. “Mari… I’d say ‘twas nice meetin’ you too, but…” She gestured around at the barn with a slight roll of her eyes.

“Hey, I saved y’all some exercise last night,” he pointed out defensively. “You remember that.”

“Don’ recall askin’ you to,” came Mari’s rebuttal. “We’d ‘ve handled dat whole bar ourselves.”

“Yeah, in a fistfight,” Brigg said. “I was tryin’ t’ stop things ‘fore those drunks ‘membered they all ‘ad guns.”

Mari shrugged absently. “We coulda took care o’ ourselves.”

“Psh, who said nothin’ ‘bout y’all? I was sittin’ right next t’ ya, an’ I didn’t wanna get shot by accident.” When she cracked a smile, he smiled along with her. “Ah, a smile! Yer learnin’ already.”

“I’m fine,” Aouri piped up from the ground. “Y’ know, jus’ in case dere’s somebody who was wonderin’. Really, I take bullets like dese alla time.”

“Well, great!” Brigg examined his shoulder and moved his arm a little before deeming it satisfactory. The wound wasn’t healed completely, but it would keep him from bleeding out until he could find a healer that could do a better job than he. He shifted hands and began casting the spell on the other shoulder with a hiss of pain. “Guess you’ll be good on yer own then, huh?”

“Well…” The blonde sat up on his elbows, gingerly drawing his wounded leg towards him. “A li’l help couldn’t hurt none. I’m Aouri, by d’ way… I’d shake yo’ hand, but mine all covered in blood.”

Brigg jerked his semi-healed shoulder in his best imitation of a shrug. “Yeah, so’re mine. Lookit that. Already, somethin’ in common. We’re gettin’ along all manner o’ fancifully.”

Aouri raised an eyebrow and exchanged a look with his sister. He mumbled something in French, and Mari responded briefly, throwing a glance Brigg’s way. She shook her head and pointed to her temple, and Aouri laughed. Damned bilinguals. They never passed up a chance to keep you out of the loop.

“Hey, hey, no excludin’ now.” Brigg kicked a bit of hay at the two of them. “Got somethin’ t’ say, y’all say it t’ my face.”

“We is,” Mari said with a smile.

“… You mean what I know.”

“We was jus’ sayin’,” Aouri chimed in. “That dis here half-dead fella sittin’ in front o’ us here has gon’ plumb out his bright-eyed mind.”

Brigg snorted again and waved a dismissive hand. “Psssh… half-dead? A third, at best. An’ I ain’t lost my mind. Wouldn’t ya know, it jus’ done gave up on me. Stingy bastard.”

Aouri gave him a smile and adjusted the goggles on his head. “Podna… You crazy an’ ya jus’ got me shot ‘n blasted to… God know where. But so far, I t’ink I like you, mon ami. Eh, Ma’?”

“…Not really.”

“Ah, c’mon, ‘e’s funny.”

“I’m t’inkin’ you losin’ too much blood already, Riri. ‘Ey, luciole, you can mebbe hurry dat up, yeah?”

“Hey, these things take time,” Brigg said. “Y’all jus’ sit tight, I ain’ gonna leave ya hangin’. An’ stop callin’ me names I can’t unnerstand.” It wasn’t much longer before the pain of the wounds faded. Not by much, but enough that he could move his arms a bit more freely. It would have to do for the moment.

He shifted around in the hay for a moment in an attempt to get up without using his arms before realizing it wasn’t quite working. He glanced over at Mari and shrugged again. “Young miss, I’m fixin’ t’ be in need of some assistin’.”

The girl sighed, but she came over and put an arm around his waist, helping him up while being mindful of his shoulders. Her shirt was stained with blood from when she’d done the same back at the inn. Gently she helped Brigg over to Aouri, where he knelt down and examined the wound.

“Hm…” he mused.

“‘Hm’?” Aouri repeated. “What’s ‘hm’?”

“Well,” Brigg said. “Looks like the bullet’s still in there. ‘Less you want it t’ cause problems later on, I can’t heal yer leg ‘till it’s dug out.”

“What?” his sister protested. “You said--”

“I know what I said,” Brigg grumbled. “I’m sorry, but we shouldn’t leave it in there. We’ll take ‘im fer some help straight off. First, though, you should tie up that leg. Piece o’ yer shirt’d work nice, miss.”

Mari frowned slightly at him. “Quit callin’ me miss. Name’s Mari.” She took off her flannel shirt without hesitation, a cutoff T-shirt underneath, and set about tearing off a strip of her shirt to bandage Aouri’s leg with.

As she did, Brigg slumped back a little, reaching up to adjust his hat despite the pain. He was starting to calm down now, as the adrenaline wore off, and he felt tired. He felt lost, even though he knew exactly where he was. He always did after escaping from Midna. This was by no means her first attempt. But he didn’t feel the overwhelming sense of loneliness that he usually felt. Today was different.

“That was smart thinkin’,” he said to Mari. “Throwin’ that book ‘cross the room t’ distract ‘er. I wouldn’t have been able t’ get the jump on ‘er, elsewise.”

Mari didn’t reply immediately, nor did she look up from tending to her brother. Now that something was being done to help him, she didn’t seem to be as worried anymore, and she looked more thoughtful. Doubtless she was now attempting to figure out what had just happened to them all.

“Who was dat?” she asked finally. “Done wrecked my day t’ shit an’ I ain’ been ‘wake notta half hour.”

“She was a bounty hunter. Named Midna,” Brigg said. “Been chasin’ me fer ‘bout two years. Dangerous folk, she is. Only met one other person like ‘er.”

Mari looked up at him, studying his face for a moment. “You an outlaw?”

Brigg sighed. “…Yeah.”

“Femme ‘ad help,” Aouri said. “Gunblast came t’rough d’ winda’ near took my head clean off.”

Brigg nodded. “Staci Remington. Or at least, that’s what I hear ‘er name is. I ain’t never seen hide ‘r hair of ‘er, don’ even know what she looks like, but I can tell ya she’s a damn fine sniper. Best I ever seen. Y’all ain’t met Midna’s third partner, though. He weren’t there.”

As Mari finished knotting the makeshift bandage, her face grew pale, and her eyes wide. “Merde!” Her hands jerked, drawing the knot tight.

Aouri yelled in pain. “Diable, Ma’! Mon Dieu!”

“L’argent!” Mari exclaimed. She began speaking in rapid French, and Aouri’s eyes widened as well and he began doing the same. Mari waved her hands wildly, nearly hitting Brigg in the face, and punched the ground in frustration.

Brigg couldn’t understand a word of this, but judging from their panicked expressions he had a decent guess. “This is ‘bout the money, right?”

Both siblings fell silent immediately, and they slowly turned their heads and just stared at him.

Brigg stared back for a second, and then tilted his head. “I overheard some stuff through the wall last night. I got good ears.”

They kept staring at him with blank expressions, and then exchanged a look at the same time. Brigg couldn’t imagine what must have been going through their minds. He was hoping it wasn’t ‘get rid of the witness before he talks’. He really wasn’t in the mood.

Mari snorted softly, slinging Aouri’s arm over her shoulder and helping him up without a word. They stood looking down at Brigg, and he remained sitting, looking up at them. They began speaking in French again, Mari’s words more heated than her brother’s.

Brigg guessed they were attempting to figure out what to do. Obviously they weren’t experienced criminals, and whatever they had done, they’d done so out of desperation. He got the feeling that Mari wasn’t too fond of him, and the fact that he knew their little secret apparently unnerved her.

After a minute of talking amongst themselves, the siblings fell silent. Aouri glanced down at Brigg, and offered his free hand to him. “Guess we all outlaws, huh?”

Brigg smiled briefly and stood on his own, but clasped Aouri’s arm in a gesture of goodwill, albeit gently. “Looks like.”

He walked over to collect his sword and bag while trying not to move his arms much. The pain might have been lessened, but it wasn’t gone. Still, for having been impaled through both shoulders fifteen minutes ago, he was doing pretty well.

As he picked up his katana, the two Inhumans began moving toward the closed barn doors. “‘Ey, podna… Brigg,” Aouri said. “Why’d you take us wit’ you, eh? Not dat I’s complainin’, ya know, but… why?”

Brigg walked over to join them, dragging his bag by one of the straps. “I left ya there, y’all be dead. Or she’d have kept ya alive t’ interrogate. Which’d be damn worse. So’s I took ya.”

Mari blinked at him with skepticism. “Why care?” Then after a moment, she added, “Not dat I’m complainin’, neither…”

Brigg shrugged automatically, and then winced. He had to stop that. “No one oughta die who ain’t gotta,” he answered. “Sides, y’all helped me out. You’d ‘a died back there, it’d been my fault. An’ that’s the last thing I need right now.”

“Only fair,” Aouri said. “You helped us firs’. An’ now we owe you again fo’ gettin’ us outta dere.”

Brigg shook his head. “Eh, I ain’t keepin’ score.” He walked over to the wooden barn doors and nudged one with his toe. They weren’t locked, and it swung open a bit. “C’mon, I gotta find someone.”

Sunlight met them as they left the barn, bright and vibrant, and Brigg lowered the brim of his hat against it. The sun hung high in the eastern sky, bathing everything in an orange red glow. The sky was always red in the Bloodlands, while the sun was up.

“Damn, it’s bright,” Aouri grumbled, shielding his eyes. “Didn’ know we slep’ dis late.”

“You didn’t,” Brigg said. “Spell jumps take time. Our bodies is converted t’ ether an’ flows to a designated point. The flow ain’t instant. It seems like a second t’ us, but judgin’ from the distance we had t’ travel, I’d say it’s been two ‘r three hours since we left.”

The siblings were silent for a moment, digesting this new information. “Talk ‘bout disorientin’,” Aouri said.

“It’s prob’ly ‘round nine or so,” Brigg mused. “Day’s still young, plenny o’ time fer more shit t’ happen.”

He kicked the door open further to reveal a town outside. It seemed to be larger than the previous town, and the buildings here were made of thick stone, erected from deep underground with magic. The barn sat in front of a large courtyard that seemed to be the center of town.

The most eye-catching object, however, stood in the center of the courtyard. An immense tree, its trunk almost as thick as some of the buildings around it, towered overhead. Its branches reached higher than anything else around, green leaves flourishing at its crown. Here and there some of its roots emerged from the ground, doubtlessly snaking underneath the town for quite a distance.

Brigg stood back as the siblings wandered outside, watching as they stared dumbfounded at the tree. He’d seen it many times before, so it was nothing new. It was always amusing to see other people’s reactions to it, though.

“Dat’s… a tree,” Aouri said, stating the obvious.

“A livin’ tree,” Mari added. “In d’ Bloodlands…”

“I know,” Brigg said simply, stiffly pulling his sunglasses out of his pocket and putting them on. How they’d managed to survive that fight was beyond him. He checked to see that his pipe was okay as well, and stuck it in the corner of his mouth.

“D’ hell is dat possible?” Aouri asked.

Brigg remembered not to shrug this time, and instead tilted his head briefly to the side. “Iunno.” He began walking further into the courtyard, heading for a place where he was fairly certain they could get help. “C’mon.”

Mari helped Aouri along as they followed behind him. “Where is we?” she asked, looking around.

“This here’s Hudson,” Brigg answered, turning to them and spreading his arms. “Was founded independently a ways back, an’ it’s been growin’ ever since. Best thing ‘bout independence is there ain’t no soldiers around, but the Legion recognized the town’s size enough t’ extend a railway out here. Mighty considerate, yeah? Turned out a lot more traffic thisaways.”

“Dis was d’ town we passed up, Ma’. Remember?”

“Oh… right.”

Brigg’s own words ate at him a bit. There were plenty of people living in this town, and this was around the time that businesses began opening up. This area especially should have seen a good amount of foot traffic, being the center of town. But he’d barely seen a sign of anyone around. He hoped he hadn’t escaped from Midna only to emerge into another dilemma.

As they proceeded across the courtyard and rounded the tree, a gathering of people soon came into view. Brigg raised his brows a bit. “Well now. What we got goin’ on here?”

“Shit!” An exclamation from Mari caused Brigg to turn around in time to see her dive to one side, pushing her brother to the ground.

“Agh!” Aouri uttered a curse and clutched at his leg. Before he could protest Mari had begun dragging him behind the tree, out of sight of the group at the other side of the courtyard. He tried to speak but she clapped her hand over his mouth.

“Shut d’ hell up, Aouri!” she hissed, not stopping until her back was pressed against the tree trunk. “You know who dat be out dere?” Letting go of her brother, she crept along the side of the tree and peered around its trunk. “Dat’s Marshal Warrick out dere!”

Aouri’s face blanched, and he crawled toward the edge of the tree next to Mari. “You gotta be shittin’ me!”

Brigg blinked, glancing from them to the people gathered nearby. “Is this someone I should know?”

“Shh!” Mari hushed him urgently.

A number of townspeople had gathered around a dozen or so men on horseback. Brigg recognized some of them, the most apparent being a raven-haired woman in her early forties with a thin braid down to her thighs. She wore a simple blue dress that reached to her knees, belted around the waist, and tall leather boots. The single leather spaulder she wore over her right shoulder signified respectable stature. Unless she’d simply stolen one like Brigg had, but he knew for a fact that it was not the case.

She faced off in the middle of the gathering with one of the horsemen. He was of average height and build, with close-cropped blonde hair. The maroon button-up he wore had the sleeves torn off of it, revealing heavily tattooed arms. He glared down at the woman from beneath the wide brim of his white hat, removing his sunglasses. He didn’t seem very happy.

No one seemed to notice Brigg, though he made no effort to hide. So he stood and watched. He could hear what they were saying easily enough.

“And I said I won’t.” The woman spoke softly in a light Irish accent.

The man, who Brigg assumed was this Marshall Warrick, slammed a fist down on his pommel. “I don’ see the bloody problem! All we wants is t’ search the town. We ain’ gon’ hurt nobody ‘less we find who we’s lookin’ for.”

“It ain’t ye’r town t’ be searchin’,” the woman answered, folding her arms.

Warrick ground his teeth until it looked like he’d pop a vein in his head. His horse shifted uneasily. “Then will you search the town?”

“I won’t.” The woman firmly stood her ground. “Ain’t no business o’ ourn what folk steal from ye’r town, Marshal. I don’t aim to disturb my townsfolk over a problem what ain’t ourn. Ye can wander the streets fer a spell if ye fancy, but I find any o’ ye’rs set their pinky toe on the private property, I’ll personally escort ye all out meself, so I will.”

Brigg couldn’t help but smile at the familiar attitude. He’d been on the receiving end of it many times.

Marshall Warrick glared at her for a long while. Brigg noticed that one of his hands was resting uncomfortably close to the revolver at his hip. Brigg rested his hand on the butt of his Flyleaf, ready to interfere if things started to get ugly. The men gathered around the woman apparently had the same idea, as they seemed to tense up, some of them already resting hands no their weapons.

Finally Warrick leaned forward in his saddle, resting a forearm on his pommel. “We’s lookin’ fer a couple. A real tall feller wit’ bleached hair, an’ a girl wit’ brown hair, wears a lot o’ bracelets. You see ‘em, I’d appreciate it as a kindness if’n ya detained ‘em an’ informed me, hm?” He forced a smile to his face, but it looked more menacing than anything.

Brigg shot a look over at Mari and Aouri. Mari gave him a sharp look and drew back around the tree. Aouri just rolled his eyes.

“Bleached, shit,” he whispered. “Dis my nat’ral color.”

Brigg could see the woman arch an eyebrow, even from this distance. “[ii]If I see ‘em… I’ll consider holdin’ em an’ sendin’ a Courier t’ Bedde.”

Warrick sucked air between his teeth. “Thanks,” he said rather sarcastically. He straightened up and looked around the courtyard, and his gaze lingered on Brigg for a moment, who stared back. Then the Marshal nudged his horse and steered it past the woman, his men following him as the crowd parted for them. He had the look of a man who might not have stopped even if they hadn’t moved.

No one else moved until the men had ridden off down the street and left dust in their wake. Brigg grunted and scuffed at the dirt with his toe, turning back to the siblings. “Well he sure seemed all manner o’ pleasant. Almost sounded like ‘e was describin’ y’all two fer a second there.”

“Shut up,” Mari mumbled, helping Aouri to his feet again.

Brigg chuckled and glanced up at the morning sky. “You sure love slappin’ me down inna all manner o’ sitchy-ations, don’tcha?”

“What?” Mari asked.

“Nothin’.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “…He crazy. Jus’ out his head.”

“Yeah, yeah. We all know I’m loony. C’mon.” Brigg started toward the remaining townspeople, who had begun to disperse and leave the courtyard. Behind him he heard the siblings muttering amongst themselves.

“Some mess we done landed in dis time.”

“No kiddin’. I gots a bullet in my leg.”

The woman had stopped to speak with a man who’d remained at her side, and as Brigg drew nearer she glanced up and noticed him. Her eyebrows went up in surprise, though her expression remained calm. The corner of her mouth pulled up into a small smile. “…Be that who I’m thinkin’ ‘tis?”

“Well I hope yer thinkin’ o’ me,” Brigg said. “I’m kinda hard t’ mistake fer someone else.”

“I won’t say, black is a popular color, days of. I can’t hardly see ye’r face, havin’ the hat ‘n glasses. Who’s say ye don’t just have a strong resemblance?”

“I’m t’ say,” Brigg replied. “‘Sides, who else d’ you know who sports blood stains t’ match the outfit? ‘Less those’ve become a trend, too.”

The woman’s smile grew deeper, almost motherly. “Ye’ve a point there, Mr. Brigadier.”

“Leah… Good t’ see ya.”

“Wishin’ I could say same, Briggy Boy.”

God, he hated that nickname. “Why’s that?”

“Whenever ye be comin’ round, ye bring trouble with ye’rself.” Leah’s eyes shifted past him, and she gestured over his shoulder at Mari and Aouri. “My case in bloody point. Or amn’t those them that idjit Warrick be searchin’ fer?”

“What, them? Psh, nah, they ain’t done nothin’. Complete coincidence, is all that is. Sayin’ on the strange, off-chance it was them, though… I’d have t’ ask ya t’ keep mum about it, y’ know? Zip the lip ‘n all that. They’s wit’ me.”

Leah scrutinized the two siblings intently, and they stared back with equal intensity. “Hm. If’n ye say so.”

Mari blinked. “What, jus’ like dat?”

Leah gave a brief shrug. “Arra, ye ain’t after stealin’ nothin’ from my town… I hope. An’ ne’er was I ever fond o’ that gobshite Warrick. ‘Sides, Briggy Britches ‘ere has a vouch for ye, so’s that’s good enough fer me, no? I owe ‘im desperate.”

Aouri snort-laughed. “Briggy Britches?” he echoed with a grin. His sister soon joined him, making no sound but shaking with internal giggles. Her face scrunched from trying to hold in a smile.

Brigg shook his head. “Right, go ‘head ‘n laugh. Everybody laughs… Bastards.”

Leah smiled a bit but didn’t address it. “I’m takin’ from the lot o’ ye bloody as the devil, ye all needs fixin’ up, ain’t ye? So’s the usual case, anyway.”

The siblings just stared. “Uh… what she say?” Aouri mumbled.

Brigg couldn’t hold back a snicker. “Sometimes I wonder myself.” What with all the dialects and languages spread over the country these days, it was getting harder to understand people every year. Why couldn’t they all just speak English like normal people?

Leah gave them all a blank look. “… Ye all covered in blood. Fancy a bandage, eh?”

“Oh… yeah, I got it dat time,” Aouri said.

“He ain’t doin’ too bad fer a first timer,” Brigg said with a very slight motion in the Cajun’s direction. “Least, I’m assumin’ ‘e’s a first timer.”

“Well, not e’ryone enjoys bein’ shot quite so much as you seem to do,” Leah mused. “What the bloody devil happened anyways? Giant holes ye got in ye shoulders.”

Brigg grimaced. “Midna.”

Leah frowned and nodded. “Ah. Ye oughta deal with that one right quick, or she’ll be the death o’ ye one day.”

“I don’ doubt it,” Brigg said with a nod. “But it won’t be no time soon.”

Leah turned to Mari. “And? What’s yer ail?”

“…Huh?”

“Where ye hurt at, child?”

“Oh.” Mari looked taken aback for a moment, unsure what she meant. Then she glanced down at herself and seemed to notice her stained clothes for the first time. “Oh! Dat ain’ my blood. S’ his.” She jerked her head at Brigg.

“Figures.”

Leah turned to the man she’d been conversing with, who Brigg had almost forgotten was there. He’d been silent the whole time, standing off to one side, so it was easy to overlook him. But Brigg happened to know this person as well. He was tall and lean with exotic, vaguely Asian features, black hair tied in a ponytail. He wore a weathered black denim jacket and worn jeans, hands stuffed in his jacket’s pockets. He was armed too, a handgun at his side.

“Marshal Elias, how ya be?” Brigg nodded his head in greeting. “Still a mama’s boy, I’m guessin’?”

Elias adjusted a pair of thin wire-frame glasses, regarding Brigg with narrow blue eyes. “What be wrong with that?” he asked in a mirror of Leah’s accent, albeit somewhat lighter. He’d always been a rather serious person, all business.

“Who said there was somethin’ wrong with it?” Remembering himself, Brigg turned between the two groups and pointed the hilt of his sword back and forth. “Where’re my manners? These two here’re Mari ‘n Aouri. Frenchlin’s, this here’s Leah Mikomoto, the town Matron, ‘n ‘er son, Elias.”

“Nice meetin’ ya,” Aouri said. “I’m still bleedin’.”

“Aouri!” his sister admonished.

“What? I am! It’s real uncomf’table.”

Mari gave Leah a small apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. He a mighty idjit… Nice meetin’ you, Matron, despite the circumstances.”

Leah nodded respectfully. “I’m quite used t’ dealin’ wit’ idjits, so I am. An’ speakin’ o’ which.” She turned to Elias. “You keep a weather eye out where that Warrick rode off to, ‘n watch the streets a while. I’d make sure he ain’t left one o’ his flunkeys behind t’ snoop ‘round. An’ fer the love o’ Christ’s donkey, make sure he don’t come back.”

Elias nodded, and then nodded briefly to Brigg, Mari, and Aouri as he departed. Two men waited for him at the edge of the courtyard, and they approached as he drew nearer. Elias spoke a quiet order, and the three of them disappeared down the street. Brigg didn’t know him well, but like his mother, he managed to inspire confidence in the people he protected; the mark of a good leader.

“Right then,” Leah said, her hand on her hip. “Let’s be gettin’ ye all inside. Ye’re gettin’ blood on my street.”