elbow for a moment longer before finally releasing him and stepping away. Lee did not know it, but at that moment he had never been so close to death, it would only take a slight error in judgment for the Black Horseman to reach out and take him. But to his credit, Lee made no error; he just simply stood up rubbing his arm and looking at the pair of young men who he’d obviously underestimated.
“Where’s Lonogan Bock?” Gwaynn asked again, his hand very close to his knife.
“Who’s asking?”
Gwaynn relaxed a bit. If the big man was talking he was not likely to attack again, but still he kept alert. There was now a small crowd around them, and their faces were not exactly friendly.
“My name’s Gwaynn,” he finally answered and was aware that Krys had bent over and with a smooth motion removed his kali from his bag. There were gasps from the crowd of men surrounding him, and a few even took a couple of steps back. Krys twirled the weapons in a mindless display that proved nothing of the fighting skills of those who performed them, but he knew it would impress the laymen of the group. It did.
“And this is my Weapons Master, Krys Logan,” Gwaynn added with a shake of his head at his friend’s antics.
“Weapons Master?” asked a voice from the right behind the circle of men. They parted immediately and let a middle-aged blond man walk through to join those in the center of the ring.
Gwaynn said nothing just turned to examine the new arrival. From the demeanor of the men around him, he gathered that this was at last Lonogan Bock. Bock was younger than he expected, only around thirty years of age, but had an air of command about him that left no doubt who led these men. He was tall, though only a bit taller than Krys, and was powerfully built, with a strong chest and bulky arms, but even he looked small next to Lee Brandt.
“Weapons Master?” Bock asked again. “It’s a term only royalty uses,” he added coming to a stop, then he glanced at Krys. “Kali have been outlawed by the Deutzani.”
“The Deutzani don’t rule me,” Gwaynn answered forcefully.
Bock laughed a quick short laugh but then sobered almost immediately. “Don’t they? And just what did you say your name was again?”
“My name is Gwaynn,” he said, noticing Bock’s eyes go wide. Bock gave Gwaynn a small negative shake of the head, and a glance like a warning. Gwaynn ignored it, but made ready as he finished. “Gwaynn Massi.”
Bock’s eyes flashed over Gwaynn’s right shoulder, but before anyone else could even react Gwaynn’s knife was out and with one quick step he buried it into the chest of the man Lonogan suspected. The man’s eyes grew wide, but he only had time to flinch before the knife pierced his heart. He slumped onto the soft floor without a sound. Gwaynn removed the knife and whirled back to Bock.
“Any others?” he asked. Bock shook his head, a look of awe spreading over his face. Several of the others including Lee Brandt backed away several steps, and there was a good deal of murmuring in the crowd.
“Only him,” Bock said and then frowned. “No one can move that fast,” he protested, but Gwaynn simply shrugged. He had moved quickly, but also knew that he was capable of moving much, much faster.
“I wish you wouldn’t have done that. We will have to cover his death,” Bock said, looking down at the dead man with an almost sad expression on his face.
Gwaynn shrugged. “Logging is dangerous work.”
“Yes,” Lonogan said with a sigh. “But I still wish you hadn’t done that.”
“He was a Deutzani spy,” Gwaynn answered.
“Yes, but we knew that about him. We may not know the next,” Bock said and then bowed low. The others remained where they were for a long moment, slow to catch on, until Lonogan added. “Welcome home, M’lord.” Soon they were all bowing, at least until Gwaynn put a stop to it. Lee Brandt was the last to rise, red-faced with embarrassment, and trying desperately not to catch Gwaynn’s eye.
“Nothing is more likely to get me killed than men fawning over me,” Gwaynn added insisting that they all treat him as one of their own.
“Afton Sath warned me that you were coming back to Massi,” Bock said as he nodded to Lee, who got the men back to work. “But I had a hard time believing him. He’s out looking for you now,” he added with a glance at Krys.
“May we eat something?” Gwaynn asked noticing the glance. “I’ve used up a bit of energy.”
“Of course,” Bock said with a smile and led them to a large set of stairs at one end of the mill. The stairs led upward to a loft which contained several rooms. Bock kept sneaking looks over at Gwaynn, and occasionally Krys. “You are not what I was expecting.”
?
Samantha woke the next morning to the smell of frying bacon. She rolled over and looked at the fire and the pan resting in the hot coals. Cobb was nowhere in sight. She sat up and finding herself naked beneath the blanket remembered the night before, and what she had done, and all for a plateful of beans. She rubbed her forehead in dismay, then quickly stood and after wrapping the blanket tightly around her body, moved to the far side of the fire to check her clothes. Her shirt was dry and her skirt was nearly so. She looked about for Cobb, but still did not see him, so she removed the blanket and dressed as quickly as possible. She finished and was turning the bacon when Cobb returned, coming up the rocky path, his hat in his hands, and in the hat were half a dozen eggs. He moved carefully, but nearly tripped as he looked up at her and smiled. After that he kept a closer eye on the path and did not look at her again until he was very near the fire.
“Eggs!” he said holding them out to her, a large smile on his face.
Sam couldn’t help but smile back, though she was feeling slightly used and humiliated; much to her surprise however, she still did not feel dirty. She leaned forward and took a peek in the hat.
“Eggs,” she replied. “Where did you get eggs?”
Cobb frowned at her as if she was the simple one. “I’m a trader,” he answered as if this were the answer to all worldly troubles.
After the previous night Sam had to agree. “And a good one,” she said reaching up and taking a couple of eggs. She cracked them into the pan. The bacon grease popped and sizzled as Cobb placed the hat on the ground next to her, beaming at the compliment.
They ate breakfast, which to Sam, easily topped the beans from the previous night, but when they were finished a sense of urgency suddenly struck her and she stood looking about for Bull. He was nowhere in sight.
“Cobb, where’s Bull?”
Cobb was busy cleaning the pan with gritty dirt, removing as much of the grease as he could. He nodded toward the river. “Drinking,” he answered. “Cobb gave him grain. He’s a big horse…hungry horse,” he added still smiling. “Come I will show you.”
He led the way down the path and there, by the large boat was Bull, but he was no longer drinking, instead his nose was in a feedbag. He raised his head, chewing contentedly and watched as Sam and Cobb moved down the hill toward him. Sam was overwhelmed with gratitude. She placed a hand on Cobb’s arm as they hit the sandy soil at the bottom of the hill.
Cobb glanced down at her hand, and suddenly sobered. “Will you come with me?” he asked, suddenly shy.
Sam looked at him, not wishing to hurt him, but having no choice. “No Cobb. I’m being chased by an Executioner.”
Cobb’s eyes grew wide.
“You know what an Executioner is then?”
Cobb shook his head. “A bad man,” he affirmed.
Sam nodded back. “A very bad man. A man who kills people.”
Cobb looked at her for a long moment. “Cobb would take good care of you,” he said with such sincerity that she had to smile at him.
“I know you would, but the Executioner would kill you…and me.”
He considered this for a moment.
She looked up at the large, simple man. “When you leave Cobb, don’t stop for anyone. Keep going;
