Free the North! (Free Trader Series Book 5) (24 page)

BOOK: Free the North! (Free Trader Series Book 5)
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Brandt walked alongside. He no longer wore the brace on his knee. The contraption was in the wagon, taking up space, but they kept it, just in case. G-War was perched in his usual place on top of Brandt’s head. After Braden mounted, Zeller asked Arnie to head out, south toward Cameron.

‘Who’s going with me?’
G-War asked out of the blue.

“Where?” Braden looked sideways at the ‘cat as he glared back.

‘Hillcats? Anyone remember the conversation where the Prince gets to go back to his people, recruit some lady Hillcats to come south? I simply cannot take the south over by myself, and those grisly urchins from that vicious creature in Cornwall simply won’t do to carry on my legacy,’
G-War told them.

Micah choked, trying not to laugh out loud. Her children were bonded with the so-called urchins, so she wanted to take offense, but couldn’t because of the Golden Warriors matter-of-fact tone and the images of the cat from Cornwall going after him on their last visit. “Isn’t that your mother, I asked Klytus and Shauna,” Micah said, remembering the throw-down they had the privilege to witness.

Braden laughed, and G-War continued to glare at the humans.
‘Yes. All of you poke fun at the poor ‘cat, just trying to make his humble way in a dangerous world.’

“Did he just say ‘humble’?” Braden said out loud, before doubling over with a full belly laugh.

“Okay, G, you got me. I’ll go with you. Out of Cameron, southwest past Binghamton, to the forested hills of Ankhmar.”

“We’ll have to wait for you in Cameron?” Zeller interjected. Micah nodded.

“Wait, what’s that look?” Micah asked suspiciously, noting her disappointment.

“He has a present for me,” she said in a low voice.

“The blacksmith in Whitehorse” Braden said when he figured it out, realizing that the present wasn’t for him. He was disappointed, but only for a heartbeat. He was happy for Zeller. “Hey, see if he wants to come with us. Old Tom is stretched pretty thin. He could make a difference in the south. We really could use someone like him.”

Zeller smiled, thinking about having him in the south with her, but she would continue to trade. The Old Tech wagon would make things easy for her and Arnie. But it would be nice to come home to someone. They could use a blacksmith in any town besides Dwyer. She’d have to think about it, not about convincing him to come south, but where he could set up a new smithy. Maybe River Crook, but she didn’t know what raw materials he’d need. That would make for good conversation as they traveled. She continued smiling to herself as her daydreams took her away.

Braden and Micah looked at each other, pleased with events and happy that none of the companions were killed. When they were attacked by the archers on the road, they’d realized how vulnerable they were. The feeling of invincibility evaporated with Arnie’s shriek of pain. Old Tech weapons were just tools, not an end-all. Those who held the tools were still only flesh and blood.

Skirill joined the companions in the wagon as Zyena flew ahead. She circled high above, looking for any sign of those who’d served Governor Anderle. Braden suspected that they’d blended back into the populace, returning to their lives as farmers, craftsmen, shop keepers, or any of a myriad of trades. Braden didn’t expect anything, but he sat with his blaster on his hip, fully charged and ready for use. G-War was attentive as well, although when asked why he hadn’t seen the previous ambush coming, G-War suggested that neither he, Braden, nor Micah had been at risk of injury within the timeframe of his visions.

“Let’s all pay more attention. I don’t want to go through that again,” Braden said and Zeller agreed most of all. Arnie was her best friend. She still agonized over the pain that racked her body seeing the arrows embedded in the Aurochs.

After two turns of travel, their worries were unfounded as they moved unmolested along the road. Cameron was a beehive of activity as the people had taken to destroying everything from the Provincial Government and retaking ownership of the town. This included an extensive barricade across the road to Jefferson City. As Braden’s caravan rolled up, a man waved to them in welcome.

“What gives with the barricade?” Braden asked.

“In case the Governor sent his strongmen down this way. We aren’t going to hand our town over to him, not again. If he wants a fight, we’re ready!” the man said boldly, puffing out his chest, before looking at Micah’s arm in a sling and Zeller’s injuries.

“You can take the barricade down. There’s been a change in leadership and the Provincial Government is no more. The next time you see a wagon coming down this road, they’ll be coming to trade, bringing supplies, doing what we do!” Braden shouted back, pumping his fist in the air. The man cheered and ran off. The companions looked at each other and the barricade that the exuberant man left in place.

Brandt lowered his head and pushed the jumble of furniture and rough cut lumber out of the road. Arnie continued into town, heading for the Market Square.

 

 

The Power of Hope

 

Micah removed her sling so she could climb down, but Braden stopped her.

“We need to find our water buffalo rancher and start working the trade!” he said excitedly. She shook her head and climbed down. He pointed to her, then to the road leading east, then back to her, confused. There was a trade waiting for him. He was compelled, almost beyond his control. Micah waved him to her. Braden looked longingly at the road east. He hung his head in surrender and climbed down, unhooked Arnie so he and Brandt could find somewhere to graze, and took Micah’s hand to casually stroll through the market and see what people had to offer.

She found many things to buy and she refused to let Braden negotiate. He was appalled at the high prices she was agreeing to. He grew increasingly miserable as he carried more and more items for her. Braden kept trying to interject sanity into the process, but Micah shushed him. Finally, when he could carry no more, they returned to the wagon where he deposited a small fortune in goods, which shouldn’t have cost a small fortune.

“Why are you punishing me?” he asked her, a sad look on his face.

“Braden, look at these people. Ten turns ago, they were starving. They’re trying to make a go of returning to normal as you asked them to do. So we share a little of the wealth that Holly gave to us. Who cares, especially if it helps?”

“But I’m Free Trader Braden,” he countered in a weak voice. She looked at him until he looked away. “You could have made better deals.”

She lifted his long and sad face. “We’ll get a good deal next time. Look at this place. Look at the people. What we traded today is priceless, it’s the value of hope.”

Braden conceded, knowing that his role had expanded far beyond a simple Free Trader, something he reveled in being and would probably never get the chance to do again. He had a hard time letting go. As usual, Micah taught him the hardest lessons of his life, helping him become better at being himself.

“Okay,” was the most he would say, even though Micah knew what he was thinking.

“I’m sorry, lover. You fill a more important role now. We both do. Teach the other traders how it works, but we have different goals. We create the conditions for everyone else to be successful.” He wanted to argue with her, but looked at the wagon, knowing about the pile of gold and platinum they carried, and saw his friends idly watching people. “From the first turn we met, it’s all you’ve ever done. Don’t you have more now than you’ve ever had before? And you didn’t trade for any of it.”

He wore Old Tech boots, carried an Old Tech bow and blaster on his Old Tech belt, over his Old Tech clothing. His stuff was in an Old Tech wagon, pulled by good friends. Some of the platinum and gold had been his from before, when he plied the northern trade routes, but nothing else. Everything he had was because of finding New Sanctuary. He looked at Micah. Well, not everything. The most important things had nothing to do with things at all.

The caravan met to determine their way ahead. Braden promised to take G-War west and Micah agreed to settle the trade and particulars for the water buffalo. They believed that fifty head awaited them.

The Wolfoids wanted to run with Braden, but it was G-War’s call. They couldn’t scare away the Hillcats that the Golden Warrior was trying to woo into coming south. After Braden thought about it, he figured that he’d need the wagon in case more than one or two ‘cats decided to join them. Brandt suggest that Braden could ride him and they’d make the best time without being overly burdened. Bounder looked at his mate with puppy-dog eyes.

‘Okay, it can be a boys’ trip out. You can all do disgusting man things together,’
Gray Strider told them over the mindlink. Micah shook her head. Braden grinned. No sense waiting. He couldn’t look at the pile of goods in the back of the wagon as it countered the nature of his being. Maybe after a trip back to nature, he’d reconcile himself with his new role as Vii’s savior. Until then, though, they were headed to Hillcat country.

 

 

It’s a Man’s World

 

The King of the Aurochs dipped his head so Braden could us his horns to climb onto his head, then crawl down his neck to find a seat on his back. G-War leapt effortlessly to Brandt’s face, then assumed his position crouched on the top of the King’s head. Bounder was ready to run alongside. Braden had his pack with certain things, but they were going to rough it, live off the land for a few turns while they tried to find Prince Axial De’atesh’s people. Zyena said that Skirill could go, too.

The going was easy as people had not yet ventured too far from Cameron. The road was little used and empty for the first part of their journey. Brandt and Bounder raced for half the daylight, until Bounder conceded the King’s dominance in the footrace.

They rested so the Wolfoid could decide if he wanted to try and ride the Aurochs or continue to run. He opted for riding, which created the first challenge of the journey. How does one get a Wolfoid onto the back of the largest of Aurochs?

G-War and Skirill watched with good humor while the others tried to figure it out. They were on a broad plain, no rocks for Brandt to stand next to, no ditches or water to wade into. Braden opted for leaning against Brandt’s side, turning himself into a steep human ramp. Bounder backed up and took a run.

‘This is going to be good,’
G-War quipped just before Bounder jumped. The Wolfoid’s back paws hit Braden’s back like a battering ram. Braden collapsed under the onslaught. Bounder slammed bodily into Brandt’s side, falling on his back on the ground. The ‘cat giggled as he curled his tail around himself, settling in to watch round two.

Bounder rolled to his belly and stood gingerly. He flexed a little then jogged in a circle. Braden laid on the ground beneath the King, refusing to move. He could feel two massive bruises already taking shape in the middle of his back. Bounder leaned down and sniffed him.

‘You’re fine. Let’s go again,’
the Wolfoid suggested. Braden looked at him as he pushed himself to a sitting position.
‘I only need to take a couple strides and I’ll be able to jump up. Get up! You’re tougher than that…’

“First, Micah tells me that I’m no longer Free Trader Braden and now, I’m not even a good Wolfoid step,” Braden complained. Bounder slapped him on the back, chuckling. He walked a few strides away and waited for Braden to get into position.

“I want it on record that we are better with our mates nearby.” G-War looked at him through narrowed eyes. Brandt shook his mighty head. Skirill and Bounder agreed with Braden. “Well, half of us are, anyway.”

Braden leaned against the Aurochs once more, tightening his muscles and gritting his teeth waiting for Bounder’s impending impact. This time, Bounder leapt upwards, landing on Braden’s shoulders for a second short jump to Brandt’s back. He scrabbled to find his balance, then crouched, facing forward, two legs splayed widely on each side of the King’s spine.

‘This isn’t very comfortable,’
Bounder complained. Braden ignored him as he got into position in front of the Wolfoid.

“You think it’s bad now, wait until he starts running,” Braden prophesied.

It wasn’t long before Bounder was completely miserable. Brandt slowed, much to G-War’s dismay.

‘Boy’s day sucks,’
Bounder said with a surprisingly human intonation. Brandt laughed so hard he had to stop. G-War started calling everyone names, which made the King laugh even harder, threatening to throw his riders as they clung tightly to his scarred hide.

Braden’s back was tightening up and he couldn’t have agreed more with the Wolfoid. Brandt continued their journey, taking extra care to keep his gyrations to a minimum. They finally reached a forested area with a stream, short of their goal but it was farther than Braden had ever traveled in the north in a single turn. Trips of three or four turns could be made in a single daylight with the speed of the Aurochs.

Braden wondered if any of Brandt’s herd would eventually move. He expected they would at some point as the herd outgrew the Plains of Propiscius or a young bull wanted to try his luck elsewhere, out from under the umbrella of the King.

With the forested area came the promise of a large meal. G-War guided Braden and Bounder to a spike buck. After the run and the ride, Bounder was in no shape to hunt, so Braden dropped it with one of his last arrows. He took the greatest care in removing it, cleaning it lovingly, and returning it to the quiver with its two Old Tech brothers. They flew better, but were no stronger than arrows he could make himself. They broke in battle. They broke when hunting. Braden had every intention of using his last arrow to take down a deer in the south, when they were within reach of getting more and not before then.

G-War was pleased to get the choice bits. Skirill had had a light day of flying so Braden threw raw entrails into the air for the Hawkoid to catch, continually demonstrating his mastery of the sky. They watched lazily as Skirill impressed them with his aerobatics.

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