I worked the list of nas I got from the slaves thodically, one at a ti. I hit the nearest settlent first. It was a small town of less than twenty called Osed, nad for what remained on an old sign just outside an outdoor mall. I didnt bother with subtlety on this one, just went straight up to the front gate where a bored woman stood with a rifle, not realizing I was there until I was at the gate.
She stood and pointed the rifle at . What do you want, edman?
I looked her in the eye, and she trembled a bit. I hadnt bothered covering my face, the goal was fear. I flashed my cogwheel marshall badge. Jeremy. Where is he?
The guard found so backbone and steadied herself. In his house I magine.
Hes wanted. Sold a deadman into slavery.
The woman nodded. Splains all the points hes been throwing around. Also where that 'edman that lived down the way disappeared to.
Open the gate.
The woman shook her head. Aint no way Im letting so filthy-
I froze her, leapt up over the top of the gate, disard, and backhanded her. She rolled a few feet and I picked her up by the collar. Which ones Jeremys house?
She was dazed, but managed to point at a building that read TA TO with several missing letters. I dropped her and went straight for where shed pointed. I drew my pistol and kicked open the door.
A confused man looked up from his bed, a syringe in his arm, likely Drift based on the size of his pupils. In spite of his state he managed to reach for a gun which he moved to point in my direction. I shot his arm before he could fire and he dropped his weapon, causing it to discharge, breaking what little remained of the glass in the front of his ho. I moved to grab him by the arm I shot, and started dragging him into the middle of Osed, firing a few shots into the air to get everyones attention. A small crowd was gathered as I made my way to the center of their town, so ard, most just curious.
One of them lifted his gun to fire on and I froze him, deviating my course to kick him firmly in the chest, winding him. I threw Jeremy in front of . Im a Marshall. Im here because this man sold a deadman into slavery. I looked around at the townsfolk that had surrounded . I wouldnt be here if it wasnt for him, and I wont co back as long as it doesnt happen again, and you keep any deadn born to you alive and healthy until the Undertakers visit. Otherwise? I drew my sword and took a step toward Jeremy. This. I cut off his head in one clean motion. So looked at in shock, others anger, all of them with a healthy amount of fear. I lifted his head and threw it into a sack that Id set aside for this particular occasion. It was a postman bag that I managed to dig out of an old post office. I gave everyone one last look, pulled my hat down, and walked out of the town and on to the next one.
After that I began moving quickly down my list. Ginny Carts of Huma got a chest full of buckshot, Randy of Sulphur got thrown from the top of his watchtower, Flex of the Gator boys raiders and most of his encampnt were killed in their sleep. There were a few more after that. Altogether it was a busy and satisfying month, by the end of which I had a full mailbag of rotting heads. I found myself enjoying the work imnsely, losing myself in the tracking, and execution. I was in large part borrowing from Potts Fields founder Hades Johnson. I was wrapping myself in mystique and using it as a tool to convey an important ssage to everyone within Horde Territory and likely many beyond it. I was working within the Khans own rules, of course, I knew my limits.
I made my way into Fette with a heavy sack full of heads and a wave of rumor ahead of . I received a number of nods and acknowledgents from the warriors and engineers as I entered. I had not only the authority of the Khan himself, but I seed to have earned respect from them at a personal level as well.
I headed directly for the Khans tent palace, and took a place in the queue behind a small delegation of people, each waiting to offer tribute. Fette and the Khans palace had changed since Id been there last. I noticed a number of tattooed warriors now sporting heavy black furs, many of which looked almost like armor in the way theyd arrayed it on themselves. I also noticed a large amount of black lumber being worked into new buildings, work benches, and even a wall that was being built slowly around the city. It seed that while the Khan was collecting tribute from the Rens, they were having an impact on the Horde as well.
After the group in front of completed their tribute and started moving back toward the rest of the city in order to trade, I stepped forward. The Khan looked much like he had when Id last seen him. This ti the Khan was not eating, but working. There was a massive engine sitting on his dais, and he was kneeling next to it with a wrench, tightening so parts, loosening others, patches of grease across his face and hands. He, like his warriors, was wearing a fresh ursan fur cape, though he was bare chested aside from that. One of his wives, a tall broad-shouldered woman, was standing next to him, handing him tools occasionally, and addressing the various supplicants. I didnt see any of his other wives with him.
The last ti Id stood where I was Id been with the undertakers, and he made us wait as he took his ti eating and sorting through other business. This ti his wife gave him a gentle touch on the shoulder, whispering to him, and he stood from his work to look at . He wiped his hands absently on the furred cape he wore. He looked over, his eyes stopping on my uncovered face. He didnt flinch. Instead he smiled, showing his own teeth in response.
Marshall. Why have you co? You owe no tribute.
I shook my head. Any audience with you requires tribute. I tossed the bag halfway between us, and several heads rolled out of the bag.
He looked at with a raised eyebrow.
These heads belonged to n and won who sold people within your territory into slavery. I also slew the slaver caravan which they sold to, though I waited until they left your territory as they had already paid you tribute to travel safely.
The Khan leapt from his raised platform and landed in front of the mailbag. He lifted one of the heads by the hair, glanced at it closely even as maggots fell from its neck, then dropped it back on top of the bag. A worthy tribute. You request an audience?
I nodded. A private one.
He leapt back onto his dais. Granted. However, I will not be able to oblige until the sun falls. Quarters will be granted and food given until then. He made a gesture at his wife and she nodded and climbed the set of stairs not five feet from the Khan which Id never seen him use.
She gestured at to follow her and I did so. I was led to a room much like the one Id been in the first ti Id stayed in Fette. Simple, a cot, small table. I placed my pack down and found that the Khans wife was still there.
The letters? Did you deliver them?
I nodded.
Did they was anything written back?
I shook my head.
She sighed. Sara will be disappointed. Thank you, Donovan. She turned to leave, but hesitated. Be truthful.
Excuse ? I asked, wondering if she was calling out on the letters.
Just so advice for when you et the Khan. I can say no more. She turned and left the room.
I stood there for a mont. Be truthful was often bad advice, particularly in the wastes. Now, I already hadnt intended to lie to the Khan, quite the opposite, but maybe that was the warning. Maybe he already had an idea of why I was here, and knew enough that if I didnt admit to sothing he suspected, I would be in danger. It was a hard needle to thread, and I wasnt exactly the best at politics and intrigue. I took my canteen from my bag and had a long sip. I really preferred difficult situations I could shoot my way out of to those I needed to talk through.
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