Horrigan's Rest, Part 2

Horrigan's Rest was much as my companion described-a small village nestled in the start of a pass, exactly 435 feet above sea level, and was partally surrounded by a large evergreen forest-a mix of spruce, fir, and pine trees. As we approached from the path we had been using, I could see a low stone wall-probably around three to three and a half feet tall-sufficent to keep most forms of wildlife at bay. Of course against the likes of yoma or bandits, it would provide little protection.

Of course, I suspect not even the tallest walls would provide any kind of protection against a yoma if it was hungry enough.

The town itself, at least from what I could see, and scan for that matter, could probably house 150 to 200 villagers. The buildings themselves were not the hovels that most envisioned of such an era of history, but rather were a combination of stone houses and what looked like log cabins. A number of freshly skinned hides were stretched out along a number of tanning racks, and the smell of the oil and brining fluid used in the creation of leather permeated the air, mixing in with the underlying scent of woodsmoke and cooking meat that formed in my opinion...a rather nauseating combination.

I had a half a mind to fabricate a rebreather, but after Audrey's reaction when I had used nanolathes-a construction device that used nanites to build equipment and structures- to do something similar to generate some armor and a simple solid-slug pistol, I suspected that do so now would serve to incense the mob of people gathering outside near the village entrance. Swallowing hard, I trailed after her, having to manage a slight jog in order not to fall behind.

She shot me a look as I finally managed to catch up, and fell into step beside her. As we reached the outskirts, I could see the looks of the villagers-a mixture of fascination, fear, anger, distrust-a mix that would garner a somewhat harsh response from a typical observer, though Audrey was used to it and I couldn't bring myself to care . I heard a whisper of "Why is he following her? Does he have a death wish?"

"Maybe he's one of them Blackcloaks?" This got my attention: I'd hazard a guess that this was the term that normal people had for the handlers that relayed orders to the hybrids. If they thought I was one of them...then any interactions could turn ugly fast. Of course, any train of thought I had at that was derailed with the next statement.

"Nah, he don look ta pr't. Maybe E's beddin' er'?"

The hell-? Alright, maybe I do care; the thought of shooting one of them crossed my mind...

"I doubt it, an if he is, she prolly payin im' fer it. Can't see anyone crawling inna-" I tuned the rest of the statement out, reminding myself that these people are simply ignorant, and that shooting one of them for it was unnecessary. Even if they were suggesting I was some kind of prostitute.

Although judging by her suddenly stiff posture, Audrey was most likely thinking along the same lines I was.

Perhaps great minds do think alike...

xxxx

Audrey POV

Horrigan' Rest.

It was like any other village. Small, quaint, more likely than not the familes had been there for awhile. In some ways it reminded me of home. I could recall vague memories of that distant time. The smell of woodsmoke mixed in with the scents of cooking food and-I stopped myself, forcing those bitter memories back. That life was over, ended at the voracious hunger of a yoma. As we neared, an all-too familiar sight greeted me; a crowd of people gathered, more likely than not warned of my coming.

The sound of running feet caught me by surprise, and a quick, sidelong glance informed me it was my companion. I spared him another half-second, and paid him no further mind; my paitence for any of his nonsense had already reached it's limit-while the simple clothes he had were not unusual-a coat, shirt and pants, him suddenly in a flash of green light forging a breastplate and a small weapon of some sort had been enough for me.

I may have enjoyed the tongue lashing I gave him a little more than I should have. I spotted a few villagers shrinking away while making warding gestures as if my presence were anathema to them. The usual wispers also abounded, of horrid tales-most false-of us being no better than the yoma, having the same dark hunger. Others hissed warnings at the ones making them out of fear I'd strike them down.

While it stung, it was expected.

When they had commented on my companion having a death wish for following me, I had almost laughed. If only they knew...

Upon them speculating he was one of the Keepers, it brought a moment of amusement and dread-amusment to see his true, massive form striding across the battlefield beside us. Dread at wondering what sort of horrors he would unleash upon the continent, and what kind of orders he would issue. However...

"Nah, he don't ta part, maybe E's beddin' er'?" Anger rose swiftly now; most would not at least willingly, lest the were clouded with drink, lay with one us.

"I doubt it, an if he is, she's prolly payin' im' fer it. I canna see anyon crawlin' inna witch's bed." That one stung-a lesser warrior would've most likely retorted, perhaps even struck the fool; such instances were rare, but not unheard of. Nor was one of us paying someone for their company. Although the thought of punching the man was tempting. A yawn broke me from my thoughts-glancing back, The Commander was stretching, and fixed me with a sleepy, bored expression as if to say 'Let them talk.'

If something as powerful as him could let such a statement slide, then perhaps I could as well.

xxx

We entered the villiage chief's home-a longhouse made up of rough-hewn logs. The interior, in spite of appearance was warm and surprisingly-welcoming, or at least a passing facsimile of it. The chief gestured to a pair of chairs in front of the table he was seated at; a much appriciated gesture.

"It is a tradition of our village to welcome guests of importance, regardless of their..." He seemed to hesitate, as if chewing over his words, "Business." He finished. I gave him a slight bow, even if he was feigning it, the politeness he had shown was a refreshing change compared to the usual fear that was shown. "I thank you, chief, but unfortunately my business here hardly leaves little time for such formalities." I replied, giving him a gentle smile, "perhaps another time."

"Of course," he nodded his agreement. He then motioned for someone behind him to step forward, and a young man-possibly his son, stepped forward with a large burlap sack and set it on the table. "The payment as agreed upon." I shook my head. "I don't need it-by morning one of us will be lying dead in the street-and should I succeed, a man in black will come to collect it."

"And your...companion?" I was about to respond when I heard the sound of metal sliding and a sharp click, followed by a response in a tone that dropped the temperature in the room by several degrees:

"Consider it dead."

The chief stared, and swallowing hard, nodded. I turned to leave, and weapon in hand, the Commander followrx

A/N: Whew! Done.