The Tribes, Chapter 19

Reaching Tribe Circus, Ned found Top Hat waiting inside the warehouse seated at the head of a long table laden with food. He seemed genuinely pleased to see the fat slaver and his team so soon after their last visit, motioning Ned to come sit to his right. Warily sitting down, Ned studied Top Hat’s face and manner. Outwardly, the Tribe Circus leader seemed at his most rational. Of course, Ned thought, there was no guarantee Top Hat would remain rational for long.

Top Hat refused to even discuss business as The Pussycats carried huge platters laden with hamburgers, sausages, and steak sandwiches. He urged his guests to eat and set an example by taking a huge bite from his own hamburger. To all outward appearances, Top Hat was just being an excellent host. He ended the meal by producing a keg of beer on tap.

While his slavers helped themselves to the warm beer, Ned and Cat kept drinking coffee – both wanted clear heads when they listened to whatever deal Top Hat was about to propose.

“Top Hat has been thinking since you left the other day,” the Tribe Circus leader began. “And, we have reached a decision. We want you to guide us to meet with The Leader and his Brotherhood. It goes without saying that we will compensate you handsomely for the job ”

Top Hat raised a whistle to his lips and gave it a long, sharp blast. Roustabouts appeared from the shadows of the warehouse pulling heavily laden carts. Top Hat led Ned over to inspect the bounty packed onto the carts.

One cart was packed to nearly overflowing with canned foods – there were cases of tinned meats, tuna fish, and stews. Examining the bounty, Ned saw several cases of canned ravioli, baked beans, and soups. Smiling enigmatically, Top Hat led Ned to the next cart, which was packed with an assortment of GameBoy cartridges, music cassettes and CDs. There were even a couple of boxes of batteries that were still in their packages. Turning his attention to the third cart, Ned found it was loaded with packages of underwear, socks, and even several bundles of jeans. The last cart was loaded with boxes of candy – there were chocolate bars, M&Ms, jellybeans, and stick candies.

Ned nervously rubbed his chin. By any standards in the new world in which he was living, this was a fortune. Even with the shares to his slaving team, Ned would be left with a treasure trove – a trove that could bring him even more through strategic and judicious trading.

Pulling a garish yellow paisley handkerchief from his pocket, Ned mopped at his forehead stalling for time. He cast furtive glances towards his slavers – like him; they were astounded by the wealth being offered to them. Ned’s innate greed fought with his common sense – a fortune like this wasn’t worth spit if he ended up dead at the hands of The Leader. On the other hand, life itself was a gamble that seldom paid so well. All he and his team had to do was guide Top Hat to Eagle Lake to meet with The Leader and in return, the piles of treasure before him would be all theirs.

Ned looked over at his team – most of them were leaning so far out of their chairs that they were in danger of falling flat on their faces. He frowned – they should know better than to so openly show how eager they were to accept the goods offered in trade. Still, their open eagerness showed him how much trouble he’d have with them should he refuse Top Hat’s offer. It was very possible that they’d rise up against him if he refused the deal. He needed some time to think.

“Normally, I wouldn’t even consider considering any initial offer,” Ned said carefully, as he turned to face Top Hat. “But, even I have to admit this initial offer is generous. I am impressed more than words can say.”

“We thank you for the compliments,” Top Hat said, with a bow. “But, Top Hat hasn’t heard you say ‘yes’ to our offer.”

“But, I haven’t refused it, either,” Ned quickly pointed out. “I’d like to discuss your offer and work out the logistics of what you propose.”

“Most certainly,” Top Hat smiled. “That’s what we appreciate about you, Ned – your attention to detail and planning.”

Bowing, Top Hat left Ned standing by the carts and gathered his Tribe. Within minutes, Ned and his slavers were left alone with the food-laden tables and the carts of bounty.

“I don’t like it,” Cat said softly, glancing to the other end of the long tables where the other slavers were dividing their time between eating and drinking, and casting longing looks at the carts. “Dealing with one nut job is bad enough … now, I know we never met this Leader, but from what we seen … all’s I can say is I bet he ain’t got both oars in the water, either.”

“I don’t disagree,” Ned said.

“On the other hand, that is a big haul and make no mistake,” Cat said. “I don’t know that we can walk away from a haul that big … leastways, not without trouble from the team.”

“That’s not the half of it,” Ned said. “I don’t think Top Hat intends to let us refuse his offer. He’s shrewd enough to know that if I refuse I’ll risk open revolt from the others – that’s why he brought all that stuff out where they can see it.” Ned worriedly rubbed a beefy hand over his mouth. “Still – that big a haul all at once is enough to let me actually retire from slaving and make a fresh start.”

“Okay, we ain’t really got a choice,” Cat said bluntly. “We gotta take the deal – so how do we make sure we got the upper edge?” He slid a finger under the leather eye patch and rubbed the empty socket. “The trick is to get Top Hat introduced to this Leader dude and at the same time not get trapped ourselfs.”

“Precisely, you’ve hit the nail right on the head,” Ned said. “At the same time, we can’t let Top Hat think we’re afraid.”

Ned had appropriated Top Hat’s chair at the head of the long tables to ensure privacy in his conversation with Cat. Leaning back, he suddenly became aware not only of how comfortable the throne-like chair was, but also of how impressive the chair was. Levering his bulk from the chair, Ned slowly walked around the chair, a bemused expression on his face. He glanced from the chair to the table and back again.

“Cat, Top Hat wants us to guide him to The Leader so he can try to work out an alliance, right?”

“Yeah – sure,” Cat said.

“But, that doesn’t necessarily mean we have to take him all the way to The Leader and walk straight into his headquarters, does it?” Ned asked, grinning slyly.

Cat grinned back. “You got a plan,” he said.

Ned sat, helped himself to a cold sausage and quickly outlined the plan that was still forming in his head. While Cat listened, he offered suggestions and refinements to the counteroffer Ned intended to present to Top Hat. Thirty minutes and several plump sausages later, they were ready to present the offer to the slaver team.

“Well, that’s Top Hat’s proposal,” Ned concluded, looking around at the faces of his team. To a man, each face reflected their greed. “I’ve decided we’re not going to accept…”

“Man, you must be crazy,” Juan interrupted, leaping to his feet. “What’s the matter Fatboy? You getting chicken or something? You don’t take the deal, maybe we will.” He looked around to the other slavers for support. “That’s too sweet a deal to pass up.”

“And just who’s going to make the deal with Top Hat … you?” Ned sneered. “Last time I checked, I’m the one who runs this outfit. I make the decisions – what I say goes.”

Ned’s beefy right hand shot out, the sausage-like fingers wrapping tightly around Juan’s throat. Juan clawed at Ned’s hand and arm, trying to break free of the vise-like grip. Ned’s bulk and girth couldn’t be ignored or forgotten, but most people forgot that the fat slaver was still capable of lightning fast moves and possessed incredible strength. Ned grinned savagely down at Juan as he tightened his grip and raised his arm until Juan’s toes were barely touching the floor.

Juan’s eyes bulged; filling with fright as he gasped for breaths that wouldn’t come. Ned maintained his grip as Juan’s feet began tapping and twitching. His bladder emptied, soaking the front of his jeans, the urine running down his legs to puddle on the floor. Ned knew that if he released his grip, Juan might still be revived. Instead, he maintained his group until Juan went limp.

“Now,” he said, dropping Juan’s lifeless body to the floor, “does anyone else want to challenge me, or would you rather hear me out.”

As he expected, the other slavers lost immediate interest in challenging him, quickly condemning Juan as being a hothead and getting what he deserved.

“As I said, I’m going to refuse Top Hat’s offer,” Ned repeated. “His plan is simply too dangerous as it stands. Instead, I’m making a counteroffer that should diminish the potential for failure and increase the amount we take away with us.”

“Sounds good,” a beefy slaver named Mitch said. “You think Top Hat will go for it?”

“Once he hears it, he’ll fall in love with it,” Ned assured him. “How many broken slaves do we have in the chain now, Mitch.”

Mitch scratched his greasy blue hair and thought hard. “Well, we got twenty-three total … of that group, I’d say five … maybe six are totally broke and ready for sale.”

Ned nodded. “Okay, take two more from each of the draft teams – make sure they’re in excellent shape – replace the ones from the draft teams with the biggest of the unbroken slaves in the chain. That’ll break their spirits fast for sure.”

“Sure Ned,” Mitch said, clearly confused by Ned’s orders. “What do you want done with the ten?”

“Get them cleaned up and bring them in here,” Ned ordered. “We’re going to sell them to Top Hat.” He turned to two of the other slavers. “Bingo, I want you and Snake Eyes to put the remainder of the chain into one of the cage wagons. You two are going to stay behind – don’t worry, you both get full shares – I just don’t want to risk losing good slaves in case something goes wrong.”

Bingo looked up at Ned in open admiration. “You got every base covered, boss,” he said.

“Save the flattery and help Mitch get the slaves cleaned up and brought in here,” Ned replied. “As for the rest of you – get geared up. We move out as soon as I conclude the deal with Top Hat.”

At first, Top Hat refused to agree to Ned’s counteroffer. Ned wasn’t sure which bothered the Tribe Circus chief more – having his plan changed, or having to pay for ten slaves.

“Think it through, Top Hat,” Ned said smoothly. “You just go straight up to this Leader and it looks like you’re coming to him because you’re weak…”

“Top Hat is not weak!” The Tribe Circus leader screamed, a dangerous glaze appearing in his eyes.

“Of course, you’re not,” Ned placated him. “I’m just saying that’s what The Leader will think. But, if you do it the way I suggest, it will be a meeting of equals. He’ll have to come out to meet you and when he does, what’s he going to find?” Ned didn’t wait for Top Hat to come up with an answer. “He’s going to find another leader who is every bit his equal. That’s bound to impress him.”

Top Hat began to nod his head as he thought over Ned’s words. He liked the image the slaver presented him. “Yes, yes, you do make sense,” Top Hat agreed. “But, Top Hat doesn’t understand why he must to buy ten slaves from you.”

“You’re going to give them to The Leader as a present,” Ned explained. “You’ll tell him that it’s a sign of your respect for him. By doing that, you’re one up on him. He’s going to be coming to you empty-handed – that weakens his bargaining position right from the start.”

“Of course, of course,” Top Hat began to grow excited. “And, that’s why we’re going to have a huge banquet table set up for when The Leader arrives – we see it all now. When he sees how prosperous we are, The Leader will be so impressed that he’ll practically be begging to form an alliance. You’re a genius! We knew you were the right man for this job.”

While they waited for Top Hat to finish his preparations, Ned took Cat aside. “When we get to the meeting place, I want you to keep your crossbow handy. Find a good vantage point – stay well out of reach – if things go south, take your best shots. Ideally, take out The Leader or Top Hat. Then, no matter what else happens, get the hell back here and take our share to Kim. Start him out fresh.”

“You thinkin’ there’s gonna be trouble?” Cat asked.

“Expecting it and hoping it won’t happen,” Ned replied. “You never know what’s going to happen when one nut job meets another.” He chuckled. “Hell, they might find they have a lot in common and hit it right off. But, just in case, I want someone I can trust to take care of Kim. I wouldn’t trust Bingo or Snake Eyes to give him his fair share.”

“I don’t like the idea of leavin’ you on your own, though,” Cat said, frowning.

“Let me worry about me,” Ned said. “I need you to look after Kim. I want your promise on that.”

“I ain’t gonna pretend I like the idea,” Cat admitted. “But, I ain’t never let you down, so I won’t start now.”

“Good – like I said, I just want every contingency covered,” Ned said. “I fully plan to take my share of this haul and make a new start.”

Top Hat rode on the top of Cat’s caravan with Ned. The Tribe Circus leader was silent as they left The City. Ned was glad to have The City behind them; Top Hat had brought almost his entire Tribe and insisted on having them perform as the slave-drawn wagons trundled through the streets. He had the acrobats doing flips and tumbles, the fire-eater shooting huge gouts of flame into the air, and The Pussycats singing – all of which slowed their progress. Once out of The City, however, the performers were loaded into the wagons and the slave teams could move faster.

As The City fell farther and farther behind them, Top Hat grew talkative. At first, most of what he went on about didn’t make much sense and Ned was able to limit his side of the conversation to grunts and nods of his head. Eventually, Top Hat’s ramblings began to center around Zoot and the Loco Tribe. Ned didn’t understand a lot of the local politics, but he could tell that Top Hat hated the other Tribe leader passionately.

“Top Hat wouldn’t be looking for an alliance with anyone if it wasn’t for that damned Zoot,” Top Hat ranted. “The City used to have a balance – the strong Tribes each had their place and territories. But, Zoot wasn’t satisfied with his own share – he had to start taking over more and more. But, did Top Hat complain?”

“I don’t know, did you?” Ned asked.

“Of course not!” Top Hat cried. “We didn’t care when he took over The Fixer’s club and territory – the truth was he did us a favor. Zoot isn’t half the showman Fixer was – people want entertainment and Tribe Circus does that better than anyone.”

“I wouldn’t argue with you there,” Ned agreed. “Nobody does it better than you.”

“And, Top Hat didn’t even complain when Zoot took out Lobo and his Devil Dogs Tribe. He and his mongrels were loose canons just causing problems,” Top Hat rambled. “We didn’t mind Zoot taking those territories and incorporating them into Loco territory. But, he’s not satisfied with that – now, Zoot has to move into Tribe Circus territory.”

Suddenly everything came into focus for Ned. No matter what else Top Hat claimed, his sudden interest in The Leader’s army was simply because he was feeling crowded by Zoot.

“As a nomad, you don’t appreciate the importance of territory, we’re sure,” Top Hat said. “You think a Tribe is just a group of people living in the same place. But, that’s only a part of it. A Tribe, any Tribe is also the territory it encompasses. All those kids with no official Tribe affiliations – the Orphans, Lost Kids, The Strays . . . whatever you want to call them – they’re a part of the Tribe, too.”

“Really? I never realized that,” Ned said.

“Of course they are,” Top Hat insisted. “If they want to live in a certain area, they have to pay tribute to the Tribe controlling that area. In return, they get a place to live and even limited protection. The larger a Tribe’s territory, the greater its wealth.”

“And Zoot’s been moving in on your territory,” Ned stated.

Top Hat continued his diatribe against Zoot throughout the rest of the three-day journey. Most of the time, Ned was able to listen with only half an ear and nod or grunt his responses. Occasionally, he was forced to actually verbally respond to Top Hat’s litany of complaints against Zoot and his numerous crimes – real and imagined. Ned was glad when he was able to turn the wagons up the lane leading to a picnic area that had once been a part of a state park.

Ned chose one of the large roofed pavilions as the meeting place with The Leader. The pavilion had a gigantic stone fireplace at one end, with the other three sides open to the air. He took a quiet pride in the way his slavers immediately took up defensive positions without being obvious about their intentions. The members of Tribe Circus, on the other hand, milled around aimlessly waiting for orders.

Ned took Cat and Maxie, his best tracker, to one side to give them their instructions.

“Look, I want you to be careful … don’t take any chances,” Ned insisted. “Eagle Lake is just ahead so there’s bound to be some of The Brotherhood guys around. If they’ve got any kind of smarts, they have outposts set up. Bring two of them back here to me – try not to hurt them. But, use your judgement – don’t you two take any risks.”

“Why two?” Maxie asked.

“One to send back to The Leader with our invitation, and one to hold as a … as a guest,” Ned explained.

“Two Brothers comin’ up,” Cat said.

While they were waiting for Cat and Maxie to return, Ned had a hard time keeping Top Hat patient. The Tribe Circus leader paced anxiously and complained that Ned insisted on waiting until after their messenger was sent to fetch The Leader before setting out the table. Ned had to keep explaining that Top Hat wouldn’t his surprise spoiled by having the messenger tell The Leader about it. That explanation seemed to mollify Top Hat for a while – at least until he began his pacing again.

When he wasn’t busy keeping Top Hat calm, Ned spent his time composing a letter to The Leader inviting him to have a conference with the Tribe Circus leader, promising that the meeting would be mutually beneficial. He had just finished sealing the envelope when shouts filled the air. Looking up, Ned saw Cat and Maxie returning with not two, but three white-robed figures.

“I know ya just wanted two Brothers,” Cat said when he reported to Ned. “But, there was three of them and I figgered we better take all three. Didn’t want the third dude to raise an alarm and throw a hitch into your plans.”

“Smart move,” Ned agreed. “This whole thing is risky enough as it is. Did you have any problems?”

“Nah, not really,” Cat shrugged. “They put up a little tussle, but nuthin’ we couldn’t handle okay.”

“Cool,” Ned rubbed his hands together. “We’ll send one back and hold the other two.” He fingered the envelope and started across the grass. “Let’s get this thing moving – the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get out of here.”

Settling his top hat at a jaunty angle, Ned strode over to the prisoners. Using his oiliest voice, Ned apologized for any inconvenience and explained Top Hat’s desire to meet with The Leader. Selecting his messenger, he handed the robed teen the letter and sent him on his way. Now, he could let Top Hat get everything set up for the meeting – IF The Leader chose to show up.

Ned waddled back to Cat’s caravan and began his own preparations for the meeting. Shrugging out of his velvet frock coat, he opened the case Cat gave him and lovingly examined the various knives resting inside. One of the sheathed Bowie knives went at the small of his back; the other was strapped to his left forearm with the hilt pointing towards his wrist. The brace of stilettos were secreted on either side of his ample waist. Pulling his frock coat back on, Ned slipped a switchblade into each pocket. Lifting his silver-headed cane, Ned gave it a sharp twist and pulled exposing a razor sharp sword blade and grinned happily. He figured he was ready for anything now. Satisfied that he was prepared for trouble should it appear, Ned settled down to wait for whatever happened.

The Leader turned Ned’s letter over in his fingers. He’d read the letter several times already as he tried to decide on exactly how he wanted to proceed. The invitation intrigued him – it showed audacity, and he liked that. But, the presumption that The Leader would welcome an alliance annoyed him. He tossed the letter to Gull.

“Do we humor this Top Hat person, or just march in and crush him?” The Leader wondered aloud.

“Either works for me,” Gull shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of somebody capturing three of our men.” He glanced down at the messenger, who was kneeling in the middle of the room, his forehead pressed against the floor. “I also don’t like the fact that three of our men allowed themselves to be captured, either.”

“Yes, that is a good point,” The Leader said, running his hands over his shoulder-length auburn locks. “Do you know how to get to this park area?” he asked Stalker, the new head of the Seekers.

“I know where it is,” Stalker acknowledged. “It’s ideal for a meeting.”

“Meaning?” The Leader asked.

“Meaning this place is all open for hundreds of yards,” Stalker explained. “There are a couple of open-sided covered pole buildings for picnicking, but other than that, it’s all open ground. Either asphalt or grass.”

“How far is the nearest line of trees?” Gull wanted to know.

“At least two, maybe three hundred yards,” Stalked said. “Very little opportunity for a surprise attack there.”

“How many people were out there?” The Leader asked the cowering messenger.

For the first time, the frightened teen looked up. “I don’t know, Leader,” he said weakly. “I only saw a few, but there were five big wagons there.”

“First you allow yourselves to be captured without a fight…” The Leader sighed.

“But, we did resist, Leader!” The messenger protested.

“Bullshit!” The Leader screamed. “You resisted and come back here in one piece? Where is the blood, the broken bones, the slashed flesh?” Standing, he paced the room ranting. “What kind of resistance could you have offered to come out of it with no injuries? I think you wanted to be captured – you thought that would absolve you of guilt when we recaptured you.”

“I swear we never tried to run away,” the messenger cried. “It all happened so fast…”

“Shut up,” The Leader said. He stared absently out the window down at the parking lot. “Have this traitor thrown off the roof,” The Leader said over his shoulder to Gull. “See how far your men can get him – tell them to try for that parking space in the second row.”

The Leader remained by the window as the screaming messenger was dragged from the room. He could hear the high-pitched shrieks as the teen was dragged down the hall and up the stairs to the roof. Minutes later, the messenger’s body – arms and legs flailing – rocketed from the roof towards the parking lot where it landed with a crunching thud.

The Leader shook his head sadly and turned to Stalker. “So close, so close,” he said. “Another couple of feet and Gull’s Enforcers would have had that traitor squarely in the parking space.” He sighed. “So close and yet, so far.”

Gull returned a few moments later, giving The Leader a comic shrug. “I thought for sure he was going to hit the second row,” Gull joked. “He must have run into a headwind on the way down.”

“I guess I should have had you throw him off the other side towards the pool,” The Leader said. “That way he’d have had a tailwind – he’d probably have sailed further.”

In the end, The Leader decided to meet with the strangers and directly evaluate their strength. If he and the team he planned to take with him outnumbered the strangers, he’d simply give the order to take them then and there. If by some chance the strangers outnumbered his band, he’d send a runner back to the full Brotherhood and the strangers could be taken on the road as they made their way home. The Leader decided to take five Seekers, ten Enforcers, and twenty white-robed soldiers. Including himself, his party would number thirty-nine members. The number appealed to him – somehow, it seemed mystical.

Ned had to hand it to Top Hat – he certainly knew how to set an impressive table. The Tribe Circus leader had brought two live turkeys with him. They had been quickly slain and plucked, and were now roasting on a spit over an open fire. Dozens of potatoes were wrapped in tin foil and covered with hot coals from another fire. There were three smoked hams on the table and a variety of soft drinks. Ned figured the food alone should put The Leader in a good mood.

Looking around, Ned began to wonder if he should change his plans and allow his slavers to join in on the feast. He had insisted that most of them make themselves scarce just in case this Leader guy decided to cause trouble. Ned was on the verge of calling his men in when he decided against it. Letting strangers – and potential enemies – know just how strong you were was a sucker’s play. Ned wasn’t a sucker. Let Top Hat put on the show of numbers. Ned felt more comfortable knowing he had men in reserve just in case there was a problem. Ned’s musings were interrupted when Maxie came running up.

“They’re on their way in,” Maxie reported breathlessly. “‘Bout thirty-five, maybe forty of ‘em.”

“Armed?” Ned asked.

Maxie’s face twisted. “Hard to tell,” he admitted. “Nothin’ I could see, but they’s all dressed in flowing robes. They could be carryin’ almost anything under them robes.”

“Did you see any others following them?” Ned wanted to know.

“Nah, it’s just them,” Maxie reassured him, holding up a pair of binoculars. “I checked good to make sure there wasn’t no surprises.”

“Okay, you did a good job,” Ned said. “Make yourself scarce – stay close where you can see without being seen and keep your weapon handy.”

Maxie nodded and hurried off as Ned carefully brushed his top hat and lapels as he prepared to meet The Leader and make introductions between him and Top Hat. Ned briefly wondered what the protocol was when two psychos met. Was he supposed to introduce the biggest head case first?

Waddling over to his caravan wagon, Ned gave the door a sharp rap with his cane and called out: “Okay Top Hat … it’s showtime!”

After a moment, the door swung open and revealed the Tribe Circus leader in all his glory. Top Hat had changed into crimson tails, heavily starched shirt, dazzling white waistcoat, equally dazzling white jodhpurs and polished riding boots. The Tribe Circus leader’s face was painted pure white. A black star painted over his right eye and his black lips broke up the bland white features of his face. Stepping down from the caravan, Top Hat carefully placed a new black silk top hat on his head at an appropriately rakish angle.

“We are now prepared to meet with The Leader,” Top Hat primly announced.

Ned forced a genial smile on his face as he watched The Leader and his Brotherhood approach. Leading the group were five guys in green robes. Directly behind them were two columns of red-robed Brothers. Ned figured the guy with the flowing hair and dressed in gold robes had to be The Leader. He walked confidently between the columns of the Brothers in red robes. Bringing up the rear were at least twenty Brothers in white robes. Ned couldn’t help but be impressed with the discipline The Leader’s men displayed as the marched straight towards him, looking neither left nor right as they came. The formation stopped about ten feet short of the spot where Ned stood. The guys in green robes stepped aside and let The Leader continue walking forward until he stood directly in front of Ned.

“Welcome, welcome … you must be The Leader,” Ned said heartily. “It is my great pleasure to introduce you to Top Hat – the leader of Tribe Circus from The City.” Ned stepped aside with a flourish and let the two chiefs face each other for the first time.

Ned watched closely as the two chiefs eyed each other silently. He suspected that besides taking stock of each other they were both waiting for the other to make the first move. In most situations, this introductory period was the most risky. Suddenly, Top Hat’s black painted lips spread apart in a wide smile revealing his gleaming, even white teeth. He doffed his silk top hat and bowed low.

”Top Hat is pleased to have the opportunity to welcome you to our humble camp,” the Tribe Circus leader said as he straightened from his introductory bow. “We have heard so much about you, Leader, and yet know so little about you.”

The Leader seemed taken slightly aback by the greeting. Ned watched as he bowed in return – although his bow was nowhere as deep and low as Top Hat’s. “Thank you for your hospitality.

From his perch high in the branches of an oak tree Cat watched the introductions. He couldn’t tell what was being said, but from what he could see things were moving smoothly. Once the bowing and handshaking were over, the group moved to the covered pole building where the heavily laden tables of food waited. He watched as Ned took the seat at the head of the table and the two tribe leaders took the seats at his right and left. He cursed silently – Top Hat took the seat to Ned’s right, putting The Leader on the other side of the table and out of his line of vision. Cat would have preferred having The Leader in his direct line of sight.

For the longest time, nothing much happened. Top Hat’s slaves served drinks and brought the cooked turkeys to the table. There was a lot of eating and drinking and not much else going on. Cat was almost tempted to reach into the canvas pouch strapped to his leg and pull out a piece of jerky. But, he controlled his urge and maintained his alert watch of the things happening in the middle of the clearing. He had learned from experience that even the slightest distraction could spell disaster.

By the time the meal was finally finished, and the Tribe Circus members began their entertainment, Cat was almost convinced that Ned’s precautions had been unnecessary. Everything down below seemed to be going smoothly. Things were going so smoothly that Cat was taken by surprise when the trouble began.

The tumblers had just finished their act. The Leader and his followers stood to applaud. At first, the move looked like nothing more than a polite act. But, none of the robed figures returned to their seats. The hairs on the back of Cat’s neck stood up in alarm seconds before Top Hat leapt up from his seat, knocking his chair over. Cat had the crossbow up and in position in one smooth move. He could hear the heated shouts, but couldn’t make out the words. His index finger tightened on the trigger, as much as he wanted to fire the bolt, he knew he needed to wait and see whether Ned was able to diffuse the deteriorating situation. He cursed again – The Leader was still mostly hidden from his view. At best, he’d be able to strike The Leader in the leg with his first shot. Well, a leg shot was better than nothing, he decided. With any luck, he’d be able to take The Leader out with a second bolt.

Cat risked taking his eyes off The Leader long enough to glance at Ned who was still seated. He noticed that Ned’s right hand hovered halfway between his broad waist and his left arm, where his hideaway Bowie knife was secreted. Cat decided when Ned pulled the Bowie free that he’d take his best shot at The Leader.

The sh hted quickly and squeezed the trigger. He kept the crossbow to his shoulder as the bolt flew across the clearing and saw it bury itself in The Leader’s thigh. Moving quickly, Cat braced the crossbow against his belly and jerked the string back into place for another shot before he pulled another bolt from his quiver and fitted it to the crossbow.

Returning the crossbow to his shoulder, Cat searched the melee desperately for another clear shot at The Leader or any one of his lieutenants. He saw Ned slash at The Leader with his big knife. The Leader fell backwards, blood streaming down his face a moment before the red-robed followers swarmed all over Ned. Taking quick aim, Cat let another bolt fly at one of the attackers. He didn’t even watch it hit before he was readying the crossbow for another shot. He knew his shot had gone home. By the time he had the weapon back at his shoulder, he saw his gut feeling had been correct – the bolt had transfixed the throat of his target.

Searching for another shot, Cat felt like screaming in frustration. White and red robed followers were all over Ned, preventing Cat from getting a clear shot. Ned had both of his Bowie knives out now – slashing savagely at his attackers. Searching the melee, Cat saw that one group of The Leader’s followers had already subdued Top Hat and were dragging him away from the fight. Cat was tempted to put his next bolt through the Tribe Circus leader. But, he decided that Top Hat deserved whatever fate awaited him at the hands of The Brotherhood.

Tears streamed down Cat’s face as he watched Ned surrounded by the robed warriors. He wanted to be by his friend’s side fighting, but Ned had been clear in his last orders. No matter what happened, Cat wasn’t supposed to get involved – it was his job to make his way back to The City and look after Kim. The Followers surrounding Ned finally backed away, leaving him lying still and unmoving by the table.

Several of the Tribe Circus members came running across the clearing towards Cat’s hiding place, trying to escape the carnage behind them. About a dozen of The Followers were following the performers. Cat shifted his position carefully so as not to give himself away and waited until the white-robed warriors had passed his tree. Sighting quickly, he fired and took out the last of the pursuers.

Dropping the crossbow to the ground, Cat quickly climbed from his perch and pulled the two hatchets he carried as weapons from his belt. Ned hadn’t said that Cat couldn’t make those robed freaks pay a high price for their treachery.

Stalking behind The Followers, Cat waited until they had reached a clearing and trapped the Tribe Circus members before making his move. He hid behind a thick tree and counted his opponents – there were nine white robed enemies and one in a red robe. Most of The Leader’s followers had laid down their weapons to tie up their prisoners. That was the mistake Cat was waiting for. He knew his very appearance would be enough to shock the enemy for a few seconds – Cat had found that his black eye patch and scarred face was always an asset in battle. Pressing his back against the trunk of the tree, Cat took a deep breath before stepping out into the clearing, giving vent to his anger with an animalistic roar as he charged.

Cat’s sudden attack caught everyone in the clearing by surprise – the guy in the red robe frantically screamed orders for his men to attack as he scrambled to get his machete from the ground where he had dropped it. He clearly hadn’t counted on someone as big as Cat being able to move so quickly. He was still bent over when Cat reached him, swinging his hatchet in a savage arc.

Cat kicked the red-robed body away as he swung on the punks in the white robes and charged. He knew fast action was key to his survival – he wasn’t going to give his enemies any chance to regroup and get over their shock at his appearance. Cat charged through the grouped Followers, his hatchets swinging this way and that, seeking targets. Rooted in place by shock, four of the Followers went down under Cat’s onslaught without even being able to defend themselves. Once through, Cat spun, took a deep breath and began bellowing again as he made his second attack.

Cat knew a second charge was risky, but he didn’t care. He wanted blood and wasn’t leaving the clearing until each and every robed enemy was dead. The Leader’s soldiers had regained their wits and had their weapons ready for Cat’s next charge. The big man grinned ferally – those geeks were shit scared and he knew it. They instinctively huddled close together, thinking their unity would protect them from the madman in their midst. They should have spread out and then they could have surrounded their attacker. Instead, they made it harder for them to attack Cat without hurting each other.

Cat moved steadily through the frightened knot of white-robed soldiers, easily blocking and parrying their half-hearted attacks while he chose his targets deliberately. Each of his blows struck home resulting in terrible damage to his victims. Only one of the enemy managed to actually strike Cat and draw blood with a glancing blow to his head. Cat ignored the flood of blood streaming down his face as he turned on his terrified attacker, bringing both his hatchets down on the attacker’s skull.

Cat stalked the clearing, still howling as he searched for more victims. He had circled the clearing three times without being attacked before he realized that all of The Followers were down. Gasping, he stopped howling as he returned one of the hatchets to his belt and wiped the blood from his face. Looking around, he noticed for the first time that the Tribe Circus escapees were the new acrobatic slaves he and Ned had brought to Top Hat just a few days earlier. They huddled together in fear as Cat approached.

“Relax,” he said gruffly as he pulled a razor-sharp long-bladed knife from his boot. “Gimme a second to cut you loose.” He gestured with the knife. “C’mon, get yer hands up so I can get at them ropes.” The acrobats hesitated. “C’mon, c’mon hold ‘em out … I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

Slowly, the oldest of the acrobats held out his hands. Cat carefully cut the ropes binding the acrobat’s wrists together. He paused and then handed the tumbler the knife and indicated that the kid should free his companions. Cat couldn’t believe what he was doing – handing a blade to a former prisoner was a great way to get it shoved between his ribs. He shook his head and stepped back. If he couldn’t disarm a frightened former slave, he figured that he deserved to get stuck. The tumbler freed his friends and nervously handed the knife back to Cat hilt first.

Cat stared at the proffered knife for a several long moments. “Keep it,” he said gruffly. “Ya might need it.” He turned to leave and spun around suddenly at the sound of rustling leaves behind him. He found all six acrobats staring at him in fright. “Where’d ya think yer goin’?”

The oldest tumbler stepped forward. “We don’t know where to go now.”

“Well, why don’t ya head back to The City? It’s over in that direction,” Cat said, pointing vaguely in the direction behind the acrobats. “Just cut through the woods and sooner or later yer gonna come to the road. Once ya find that, just follow it back.”

“You mean we’re free?” The oldest girl asked.

“Pretty much,” Cat grunted. “I don’t figure Top Hat’ll have any use for you now where he is … if he’s even alive. Just head back to The City and make yer way to the Queen Mary. Them Shiprats seem like pretty okay folks … they’ll help ya out ‘till ya think of something to do with yerselves.”

“Where are you going?” The tall tumbler asked.

“Back to the clearing,” Cat said. “I got some work to do there.”

“But, you’re going to go back to The City after that, right?”

“Yeah, why?” Cat growled.

“Maybe we could go with you,” the tumbler suggested timidly.

“Look, whatsyername, I figured you’d be happy to be free,” Cat grunted. “So whadda ya want to hang around with me for?”

“My name’s Cooper,” the tumbler said.

“Sure, okay … yer name’s Cooper,” Cat acknowledged. “So what’s the deal? Why don’t ya just get outta here?”

“’Cuz we don’t want to end up slaves again,” Cooper said. “I don’t think that would happen if we were with you.”

“Maybe not,” Cat agreed. “But, where I’m goin’, ya could end up dead. I tol’ ya … I’m goin’ back to the clearing.”

“We’ll risk it,” the oldest girl said firmly.

“Megan’s right … we’d feel safer with you than on our own,” Cooper said resolutely.

On the way back to the clearing, Cat took the time to search for his dropped crossbow before going out into the open ground. He easily jerked the string back and fitted a bolt into the weapon before handing it over to Megan.

“Any trouble starts,” Cat rumbled, “like some of them Brotherhood goons showin’ up, just point this thing at ‘em and pull the trigger. Then, turn and run like hell.” He thought for a moment before adding: “Don’t try nuttin’ fancy – just aim for their chest and let the bolt rip.”

“Why’d we come back here?” Cooper asked, glancing around nervously.

“I wanna do right by Ned,” Cat said simply. “I wanna see him buried proper.”

“Why?” Megan asked petulantly.

“I don’t figger you to understand,” Cat admitted. “You probably figger he deserves to be dead ‘cuz he took ya all into slavery and sold ya. Guess, if ya didn’t think ya need me, ya’d wanna see me dead, too.” The tumblers had the good graces to look embarrassed at Cat’s correct assessment of the situation. “Ya gotta know Ned wasn’t a bad person at heart … he was just tryin’ to get along in a world he didn’t make as be he could. Lotta rules and stuff changed after IT happened … even before the Bad Times really started.”

Cat wandered a bit closer to the clearing, absently wiping at his good eye. He kept his back to the tumblers. “I am gonna try to fool ya – I ain’t sayin’ Ned was good at heart, either. I’m just sayin’ he weren’t as bad as ya probably think he was. Life got real hard and mean – it was eat or get eaten and Ned found a way not to get himself eaten.” Cat finally turned around, looking as if he had just been hit with a heavy load. He shrugged resignedly and sighed. “Anyways, he always done right by me and treated me like a friend.”

Without waiting for the tumblers to respond, Cat turned again and warily headed out into the clearing and trudged across the open ground towards the pavilion. He passed the overturned remains of Ned’s wagons and the Tribe Circus wagons. He couldn’t believe The Leader had ordered them trashed instead of taking the away with him. That Leader fella wasn’t quite as smart as everyone thought, Cat decided. No smart person would pass up such great prizes.

Entering the pavilion, Cat was amazed and disgusted to see the bodies of The Leader’s soldiers scattered where they fell. He couldn’t believe The Leader would just leave his own men laying out in the open like that and not even give them a proper burial. He knew that freak was wounded and hoped his injuries were serious. He glanced around for Ned’s body, swearing violently when he finally found his friend.

The bodies of five of the Brotherhood covered the dead slaver. The wounds inflicted by Ned’s blades were horrible and gaping – silent and deadly evidence of the fervor with which Ned fought. Reaching down, Cat grabbed handfuls of bloodstained robes and tossed the bodies of the soldiers aside like they were sacks of grain until he had his friend’s remains uncovered.

Cat stared down at his friend for several moments before kneeling on the concrete and tenderly wiping the dried blood from his face. He was amazed that despite the injuries that seemed to cover Ned’s whole body, the slaver’s face seemed almost serene and somehow clean – like the way he died had cleansed him of all his past deeds.

Behind him, Ned heard the sound of a shoe scraping on the concrete. He turned and straightened, his hand dropping towards the hatchet in his belt and stared in surprise.

The tumblers were standing there silently regarding the carnage around them. Megan held a bucket of water in one hand and a bundle of rags in the other. She silently pushed past Cat and knelt by Ned’s side and began cleaning his face and hair.

“What’re ya doin’?” Cat asked in confusion.

“Helping you get him cleaned up,” Megan said truculently without pausing or looking over her shoulder. “It’s Cooper’s idea.”

Cat turned to the tall tumbler who just shrugged. “You helped us back in the woods, so we’re helping you,” Cooper said. “He must’ve had something good about him to make you like him so much.”

Cat felt his eye watering again. He gruffly muttered thanks and set about hauling the bodies of the Brotherhood’s robed soldiers out onto the grass where he laid them out neatly. He didn’t know when, but he had decided the heavy wooden table would make a platform for a funeral pyre for his friend. He’d pile wood and other combustibles under and around the table. He just didn’t want the remains of the enemy to mix with Ned’s.

Cat and the other tumblers dismantled the remains of the wagons, carrying the wooden planks to the table in the pavilion where Cooper neatly stacked everything under the table. Cat rooted around what was left of Ned’s wagon and retrieved Ned’s favorite blanket to use as a shroud. With Megan’s help, he got the blanket wrapped neatly around Ned before heaving his body onto the table. The tumblers all respectfully backed off while Cat said his good-byes.

“Well, here we are,” Cat mumbled, staring down at Ned’s peaceful face. “You didn’t have do the things ya done here, y’know. Ya figgered ya needed to do something big and dramatic as penance so Kim could get a fresh start. I ‘member ya telling me once about them people back in ancient times thinking they had to spill blood and suffer before they could wipe the slate clean after they done bad things … I didn’t unnerstand it then, but I think maybe I do now,” Cat shrugged helplessly, “then again, maybe I don’t. Anyway, ya look like ya found peace. I hope so.” Cat took a deep breath, choking back a sob. “So, like I said, here we are … I promised I’d look out for Kim and I will, you know that.”

Cat abruptly stopped talking. There wasn’t anything more to say and at the same time, everything in the world to say – only none of it mattered. Cat realized the time for talk and promises had ended. He’d say everything else he wanted to say in his actions and make Ned’s last dream of contributing to the new society in a positive way come true.

Sensing Cat was finished; Cooper stepped up and handed the big slaver a flaming torch. Taking the torch, Cat thrust it at the wood piled up under all around the table. He and the tumblers had soaked the wood and table with as much flammable liquid as they had been able to find in the remains of the wagons. It was an odd mix of cooking oil, lamp kerosene, and rubbing alcohol, but the only thing that mattered was that it was all flammable.

Cat moved around the table, thrusting the torch into the pyre to get the fire as even as possible, moving away only when the heat became too unbearable. He stood a safe distance away and watched the pyre blaze away for a while before giving one last salute and heading towards the edge of the woods where the tumblers waited.

“C’mon,” Cat muttered. “We gotta leg it … it’s a long way back to The City.”

Gull stood at the mezzanine railing staring silently at the packed lobby. The Brotherhood had assembled in the lobby as news of The Leader’s injuries had spread. He motioned to Hawk, his latest second-in-command. Hawk had demonstrated that he was nearly as fanatic as Gull – and, most importantly to Gull, eager to please rather than ambitious. Hawk was content to have a number two position, rather than jockey for the top spot.

“Take ten of our men and guard the exits,” Gull ordered. “Supplement them with the most loyal of the Whites. If anyone tries to escape, take them straight to our headquarters. We’ll deal with them later.”

“It’ll be done,” Hawk promised. He paused, glancing back towards the heavily guarded door to The Leader’s rooms. “How is he?” Gull permitted himself a small smile. “The Leader will recover,” he assured Hawk. “His injuries are serious, but we have someone with him now giving him aid.”

Gull entered The Leader’s suite to find Stalker staring intently through the doorway to The Leader’s bedroom. Peeking into the room, Gull saw a skinny soldier in white robes hovering over The Leader’s naked body. Bandages had already been placed over the gash across The Leader’s face. The crossbow bolt, however, was still lodged in The Leader’s thigh.

Stalker turned to face Gull. He spoke in a hushed whisper. “He’s in a lot of pain. I’m worried that we don’t have access to the kind of First Aid The Leader needs and we don’t have any drugs or anything to ease his pain.”

The Chief enforcer noticed that Stalker hadn’t had his own injuries cared for yet. A deep gash on his forehead was beginning to cake over with dried blood, although it still oozed slightly. The left side of Stalker’s face was swollen and bruised. He glanced down at the Seeker’s hand.

“Your hand’s broken,” Gull observed.

“It’s okay,” the Seeker lied bravely.

“Nonsense, get it seen to,” Gull said. “Come back after you’ve been seen to. I’ll make sure The Leader knows that you had to be ordered from his side.” Seeker still hesitated. “Go on,” Gull ordered. “You won’t be any good to us injured.”

Stalker bowed gratefully and quietly left the room.

Gull looked to the bed in the other room. The Leader was naked and stretched out on his right side, the corner of a pillow clenched between his teeth to muffle his agonized cries of pain as the frightened white-robed soldier tried to remove the crossbow bolt that was still deeply embedded in The Leader’s thigh. Each time the soldier touched the bolt, The Leader flinched and cried out in pain. Suddenly, The Leader pushed himself into a sitting position, and twisted around to face the Brother trying to treat him.

“Get that damned thing out of my leg!” he screamed.

“I’m trying, Leader,” the soldier wailed in terror. “It didn’t go all the way through and it won’t come out.”

Swearing, The Leader gave the frightened Brother a shove, knocking him over. Taking a deep breath, The Leader suddenly brought his hands down on the end of the bolt, driving it deeper into his thigh until the barbed head emerged from the back of his thigh. Through sheer willpower, The Leader managed to bite off the scream of agony that tried to escape his lips as he fell heavily back on the bed.

“Now, get the goddamned thing out of me,” he ordered weakly.

“Do it!” Gull snapped when the terrified Brother hesitated. “Do it quickly and get it done!”

The Brother’s fear of the pains Gull could inflict on him outweighed his fear of causing The Leader more pain. He quickly wrapped come cloth over the barbed head of the bolt and, wrapping his hands around the bolt, jerked with all his might. It took two tries, but his efforts were finally rewarded. He dropped the bolt and moved quickly to staunch the fresh flow of blood from both sides of the wound.

Gull waited until The Leader’s leg had been bandaged before taking the terrified Brother out onto the balcony overlooking the pool. He stared intently at the young man – he was about average height and slightly built with big, deep brown eyes. “What’s your name?”

“C – Conrad, sir.”

“Okay, just relax, Conrad,” Gull said soothingly. “The Leader and I both know the only reason you hesitated is because you didn’t want to hurt him.”

“I didn’t!” Conrad assured the Enforcer fervently.

“You did a fine job,” Gull assured him. “Now, what else needs to be done for our Leader?”

Conrad thought for a minute. “It’s been a long time since I took First Aid training,” Conrad said. “Ideally, he needs to be in a hospital…”

“But, there aren’t any hospitals anymore,” Gull finished for him. “And, no real doctors anymore, either. You’re the best we’ve got – so, what do you do now?”

“Well, the best thing to do is leave the wound open and just try to control the bleeding for now and give The Leader’s body a chance to heal itself,” Conrad said slowly. “Maybe flush the wound out with something like peroxide and water to clean it out.”

“Couldn’t The Leader bleed to death that way?” Gull asked suspiciously.

“He shouldn’t,” Conrad answered quickly. “The bolt went through the outside of his thigh, and that’s a good thing because the really big important blood vessels are on the inside of the thigh.” Conrad took a deep breath and continued, “We should be able to control the blood loss with direct pressure.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then, the only thing I know to do would be to run a white hot rod through the wound and cauterize it,” Conrad said nervously, shifting from foot to foot. “But, that’s going to be really painful and I wouldn’t want to put The Leader through that. The best thing to do for now is to make sure the wound is clean and try to let the body heal itself.”

“Okay, that sounds reasonable,” Gull decided. “You said his wound should be washed out with peroxide and then flushed with water. I’ll have someone bring you those things. Will just regular water do or should it be boiled first?”

“Well … the best thing would be to use sterile water … like bottled water,” Conrad said judiciously. “Ideally, we’d have saline solution to rinse the wound with.”

“Where would we find that saline solution stuff?”

“At a hospital or drug store.”

“Okay, you’ll get it,” Gull said. “Anything else?”

“Well, if they could find something like Demerol or another pain killer, that would help The Leader,” Conrad suggested.

“Done.”

Gull had Conrad escorted off to find the supplies he claimed The Leader would need and checked on the crowd in the lobby again before returning to The Leader’s room. He found The Leader sitting up in the bed. Conrad had taped a huge surgical gauze pad across the right side of The Leader’s face where that fat slaver had slashed him. The gash ran from The Leader’s right ear across his cheekbone and ended at the edge of his nose. Blood showed through in blotches through the pad.

“The one who slashed me – did we capture him?” The Leader asked his voice weak and raspy.

“He died, Leader,” Gull replied.

“Better than that fat fuck deserved,” The Leader spat venomously. “What about that other one – the circus freak?”

“We captured him,” Gull reported. “He put up a pretty good fight, but our soldiers took him in the end and pretty much in one piece. He’s got a broken arm … nose is broken … the rest are just cuts and bruises.”

“I want him to suffer,” The Leader hissed. “I want his agony to last days.”

“Rest assured, my Leader that long before I’m done with him, he’ll be begging for death,” Gull promised. “We managed to capture most of his circus members. Unfortunately, some did manage to escape.”

“No matter,” The Leader waved his hand dismissively. “They’ll just spread the word about The Brotherhood and instill fear into others before we arrive.” The Leader grimaced as a fresh wave of pain jolted him.

“We lost about a dozen and a half of our people,” Gull reported.

“Promote subordinates to fill the places of any squad leaders we lost,” The Leader said absently. “We’ll replace the others in due course.” He hissed painfully again. “And the bastard who fired that crossbow – was he captured?”

“No, Leader,” Gull said. “He fired from ambush and ran like a coward before any of our forces could determine where he had been hidden.”

“Of course,” The Leader sank back against his pillows, a strangely satisfied smile across his face. “You see the fear I already strike in our enemies – they strike from ambush because they are afraid to confront me in person. Even then, they are gripped by such fear that they botch their pathetic attempt to kill me.”

Suddenly, The Leader sat upright in the bed and swung both legs over the side of the bed. “Get me a clean robe – the Followers must see me as soon as possible. They must see that even a direct attack against me cannot possibly succeed.”

“Is that wise, Leader?” Gull asked jumping to his feet. “You should rest.”

“Gull, Gull, Gull, I know you mean well,” The Leader said beatifically, holding out his hands as if in benediction, his eyes shining. “You worry so much about my well being. Providence protects me … come now, help me get dressed.”

Gull hurried to help his Leader dress.

A hush fell over the assembled Brotherhood when The Leader appeared at the balcony railing, his arms held high and wide above his head as if for a group blessing. Despite the bandage on his face, he appeared every bit as strong and vital as he had before the melee. For his part, The Leader beamed down at his followers.

“My Brothers … behold! Our enemies tried to strike me down and discovered that Providence protected me from their weapons, turning lethal blows into minor injuries! But, you may ask, why did Providence not turn their attacks against our person away entirely?” Gull noticed many heads nod almost imperceptibly. If The Leader had been divinely protected, why had Providence allowed him to be injured at all they clearly wondered, even if they were too fearful to voice the question.

“Those among who are truly enlightened already know the answer to that question,” The Leader continued, his voice taking a mystical quality. “The injuries – minor as they are – are a reminder that those blessings which Providence bestows upon our person can just as easily be taken away unless we remain faithful and true to The Order!”

Gull noticed that even more heads were nodding openly now to acknowledge the correctness of The Leader’s revelation. One by one, the Brothers began dropping to their knees, heads bowed in reverence towards The Leader. The chant of ‘LEA – DER!’ began. At first, the word was soft as if it were a prayer to be whispered. With each repetition, the chant grew louder and louder until it thundered through the lobby of the motel, echoing around the walls.

The Leader’s arms shot upwards again as he threw his head back and bellowed, “POWER! Power to the Brotherhood of the Phoenix!”

The entire Brotherhood came to their feet as one, responding, “CHAOS! Chaos to our enemies!”

“Power and chaos!” The Leader shouted, crossing his arms over his chest so that his palms rested on his chest at shoulder level.

“Power and chaos!” The Brothers responded, crossing their arms over their chests in imitation of The Leader.

As the chanting continued Gull glanced down at the floor and saw a spreading puddle of blood around The Leader’s bare left foot. The Leader seemed oblivious to the bleeding as he stood there, eyes closed and his head thrown back. Gull allowed the chanting to continue for a while before moving up and gently placing his hand on The Leader’s shoulder to lead him back to his room.

Almost as soon as the door closed behind them, The Leader collapsed into Gull’s arms. The Enforcer easily carried his Leader back to the bed, tearing open The Leader’s robes to expose the bleeding injury.

“Leader you must save your strength,” Gull urged with worry.

“Did you see them when I went out there?” The Leader asked weakly, grimacing as the waves of pain radiated out from his injured leg. “They were demoralized and beaten. Now, listen to them!” The chanting could still be heard through the closed door. “They are reenergized!”

“Of course they are Leader,” Gull agreed. “Unfortunately, they draw their energy from you at a time when you need it the most.”

“That’s because I am the channel between them and Providence,” The Leader said. “The Power must flow through me.”

“I understand, Leader,” Gull said, bending over the bed to apply fresh dressings to the wound to staunch the bleeding. “But, you are too generous. You must remember to retain some of that power for yourself to speed your healing.”

The Leader laid his hand on Gull’s closely cropped crimson hair. “You are my faithful right hand, Gull – always worrying about me and ever-protecting of my physical needs.” He winced as Gull tightened the dressings on his leg and his voice grew weaker.

“Rest now, Leader,” Gull said softly.

The Leader reached up and gingerly touched the bandage on his face. “I’ll be left with a scar I suppose,” he said absently.

“I’m afraid so, Leader.”

“I wish you had that fat bastard in your cells,” The Leader hissed, his eyes burning fiercely. “Make that circus freak beg to die!”

“It will be done, Leader,” Gull assured him.

The Leader’s hand shot out and gripped Gull’s wrist firmly. “But, don’t let him die,” The Leader hissed viscously. “I want him to suffer for as long as possible. I want you to show the world what divine wrath is like. I want them to know that an attack on the Chosen of Providence results in suffering beyond imagination.”

Gull backed away from the bed, a devilish smile flickering across his mouth.

To be continued…