— 2 —
The first sword stroke thudded against Nelson's side. He felt pain from the blow, but the blade didn't break his skin; the swordsman, startled by the sound of the pistol, turned his wrist, striking with the flat of his blade.
Nelson dug in his spurs and pulled back on the reins in his left hand, rearing the horse. As the horse rose, he fired his second shot at the bowman exposed in the woods.
Then the horse took a savage blow to its rear legs and stumbled; for a moment Nelson thought himself a dead man. But the beast retained its balance. As its front hooves crashed down to the ground again, he fired another round, and another, taking the targets at the front of the horse at point-blank range.
The burly men dropped with looks of pain and amazement on their faces, screaming wildly and clutching their wounds, except one man who took a .45 slug square through the forehead. He toppled forward, and his companions saw the exploded mass of bone chips, blood, and brains that were once the back of their comrade's head.
He was the fourth bandit to die in twice as many seconds. The rest decided they'd had enough; they bolted into the brush.
"Demons take us all! He has weapons of fire and thunder! Weapons of the gods themselves!" Nelson heard one man shout.
He decided to let that evaluation of his weapons and his person stand for a while; never interrupt an enemy while he's making a mistake! Nelson slapped his horse's rump and took off as fast as he could, dragging the fearful mule behind. He wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and the attackers before the stunning effect of his firearms wore off.
He covered three kilometers before allowing the exhausted horse to stop for a rest. Dismounting, he checked the horse's rear leg. The blow the horse had suffered was a bad one, and Nelson couldn't afford to lose the animal. The leg didn't appear broken, but it might be fractured; impossible to tell, Nelson decided. With his attackers scattered and more than three klicks behind, he played it safe and walked the horse a distance.
He'd gone about one more kilometer, topping a small hill and entering a broad meadow, when he heard the voice.
"Star lord! I come in peace!"
Peace or no, Nelson drew his .45 as he spun around, his eyes swiftly scanning a full circle. The speaker had apparently risen out of the ground from nowhere; he stood less than ten feet away. The ground in the meadow was still brown, the grass dead; however this man had concealed himself, he had done it very well.
The man looked brutish, like the bandits who had just attacked, with greasy long black hair and tawny skin covered with filth. He wore skins and furs tied with leather thongs in a seemingly random fashion around parts of his body. But beneath the furs, Nelson saw a dirty garment recognizable as a short tunic. No weapons showed, but several could easily be concealed in that random bundle of furs that kept the man warm in the winter cold.
"State your business with me, and that quickly, or die," Nelson shouted, leveling the pistol at the man's chest. Hope that sounds highblown enough for a star lord, Nelson thought.
The man smiled and extended both hands, palms up and open. "I am Critos, and I would speak with you, star lord, to our mutual profit. It would be foolish for you to kill me, for in the instant you do . . ." Critos turned and extended his arm in a sweeping gesture toward the light woods and brush. Six bowmen with arrows at the ready were watching Nelson's every move.
"Then speak. I do not fear your bowmen," Nelson said, "for even if they loose their arrows before I fire this weapon of the gods, you will still die."
"You are quite right, star lord. So let us talk in peace, avoiding both our deaths."
The man was either terribly brave or terribly stupid, Nelson thought. Let's find out which.
"The power of my star weapons is greater than that of your bowmen. If I wish, I can kill you all."
Critos continued to smile, but his response was delayed by more than a second. He's not sure, Nelson realized.
"Then you would never learn what I have to offer to your profit," Critos countered.
"If you have anything to offer after your companions tried to kill me, you'd better offer it, and quickly. I don't have time for idle chatter with roadside bandits."
"We are bandits from necessity, not from choice," Critos said calmly. "And we can offer you ourselves. You are obviously a wealthy man, star lord, and you command much power. Yet you are alone on this path. You could use brave companions."
And the bandits could use food. Studying them more closely, Nelson saw not only the greed but the need in their eyes. Of course, it made sense, he realized. With Drantos and the Five Kingdoms at war, trade from the City States was slowed or suspended. That would mean slim pickings for bandits, especially in the winter.
But these are the primitive cutthroats who just tried to kill me. No way they can be trusted. Unless they can be completely overawed. . . .
"And if I refuse your offer?"
"Then give us a token payment for your safe passage down this road."
"My safe passage is in my hand, bandit." Nelson smiled and waved the .45 slightly.
"You cannot stay awake forever, star lord. You have money, and you can get food. My people may be bandits, but their bellies growl in the cold night no less than yours. Either take us to your service or give us money to buy what we need."
Nelson considered. I can probably kill all of them out of hand, but might take a nasty arrow wound doing it. Certainly Parsons would kill them; he'd lob a grenade and be done with it. So would Gengrich, for that matter. But I'm not Parsons and I'm not Gengrich. I'm a soldier, not a murderer. Besides, this Critos doesn't speak like an uncouth bandit—the man has some learning, even a sign of manners. He's actually making a moral claim on me! If I buy them off, will it last? If I take them into my "service," as they call it, that would give me a tiny fighting force to take south. But a damned untrustworthy one.
If Nelson decides to give Critos and his bandits some money, go to section 6.
If Nelson decides to take Critos and his men into his own service, go to section 4.