“If you knew all of my biz,” the man huffily said, “then you wouldn’t need me.”
“Don’t need ya now,” the hunter replied, loosening the lacings on his fur coat. Underneath, he wore tanned leather pants, shirt and vest. A bandolier of ammo was slung across his chest Two sets of belts rested on his hips, supporting a blaster and a hand ax, and the top of a complex tattoo was visible above his low-cut shirt
Stephen turned from the other man. “Well, here we are safe at Front Royal, and I have more biz to do. Goodbye to you all. Perhaps we’ll journey again sometime.”
“Not likely,” Mildred stated bluntly. “Just remember our deal. You stay alive for as long as you stay quiet.”
“I remember everything, outlander. Farewell!” Stephen cried, executing a stiff-arm salute. Then the fat man walked into the bustling crowds and was gone.
“He a sec man?” Sara asked puzzled, gently rocking the baby in her arms.
Hector shook his head in disbelief. “Can’t be. No way.”
“Mice got teeth,” Clem observed, hooking his thumbs behind the bandolier. “And sometime they do bite.”
“I agree. We best be leaving,” Mildred said, gathering her backpack and kit “He’ll be coming back with an escort, and it might not be wise if we were here to bother the sec men in their many duties.”
“We’ll keep a watch on the fat man,” Hector said, slinging his new longblaster over a shoulder. “Chain his ass to a rock and toss him in the moat if necessary, but he won’t be talking to any sec men today.”
“Lady healer, we can never thank you enough,” Sara gushed, tears making tiny diamonds in her black eyes.
“Taking care of little Millie is more than enough,” she replied, hugging the woman.
“If you need to find us,” Hector added, “my cousin is named Miguel. He’s a carpenter at a barrel maker’s. I’ll also be working there, hopefully.”
“You will be,” Clem stated. “Can feel it in my bones.”
Mildred nodded. “I’ll remember that name. Godspeed.”
“Good journey.”
The group shook hands, and the family pushed its way into the crowd. Mildred caught glimpses of Hector amid the strangers, and then he was gone.
“Time to go,” Mildred stated, heading in a different direction than the others.
“Where first?” Clem asked, shortening his stride to match her pace. Then he quickened his walk to try to keep up with Mildred. She was short and stocky, but full of energy.
“Nowhere,” she replied, studying the parapets rising on every side. A single stone tower rose high above the other buildings, and she wondered what function it served.
Just then a clock began to chime the hour. Startled by the noise, Mildred double-checked the tower, but that wasn’t the source. She recalled that Ryan had mentioned there was a clock tower in the exact middle of the ville, so everybody could see it easily. The machine was the pride of the ville, even if nowadays nobody had any conceivable use for precise schedules.
“Let’s just wander for a while, go with the flow and see where the crowds take us,” she suggested, “then decide where to go next, a bar maybe, or a tavern. We can learn a lot with ours mouths closed and ears open.”
“A quiet hunter eats regular,” he said solemnly. Mildred patted the tall man on the shoulder, “True words, my friend. Maybe we can even find someplace to buy food. Don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“Not going to eat meat for a while,” Clem said with a frown, touching his rumbling stomach. “But bread and beer will do. Hell, mebbe even some damn beans.” Strolling through the milling throng of the busy courtyard, the man and woman found the public market by following the noise. Shouting farmers were selling scrawny vegetables from wheelbarrows; brewers offered drinks by the cup from an open keg of homemade beer; nearby, an old man with a bedraggled guitar was pandering songs for a drink.
“Any cigars?” Mildred asked a dealer whose table was covered with sun-dried leaves of tobacco. She had no idea the things were so enormous, well over a yard long and half as wide.