“Bad storms here?” Jak asked.
Mitchum snorted in reply. “Like nothing you’ve ever seen,” he stated bitterly.
The roadway was fairly level, although filled with potholes, and in a short while, they exited the jungle and rode onto a grassy plain with countless tree stumps dotting the land. A lot of the stumps were deeply charred. Krysty knew that was how you removed a stump, burn it deep and the roots died, then after a year it could be easily chopped from the ground. Lacking machines and explosives, there was no other way to do the job.
A ville rose in the distance, its wall made of tree trunks notched and laid on top one another in layers to form a zigzag pattern for maximum strength. Bits of broken glass and shards of clam shells jutted from every crack, making climbing the wall a risky proposition. Thorny vines were draped over the top in the manner of barbed wire, and armed sec men walked the parapets with muzzle-loading flintlock rifles in their arms.
The front gate was very small, only slightly larger than a regular door, just barely big enough to walk a horse through. Riding into the ville would have been out of the question. There was no way coldhearts or pirates could force enough troops through the door to forcibly hold the passage open. A handful of sec men could defend the door with nothing more than axes. With blasters it would be a slaughter.
“Impressive,” Krysty said.
“Best ville in the Thousand Islands,” Mitchum boasted.
Looking around, J.B. noticed a break in the trees to the far right, indicating another road. “That lead to the docks?”
“Where we keep the ships,” the colonel corrected. “Wouldn’t call them docks, exactly.”
Ryan reined in his horse. “Before we go any farther, you and I need to talk.”
“Yeah? What about?” Mitchum asked suspiciously, a hand moving dangerously near his blaster.
“Our deal. A ship for your freedom.”
“I’ll pay your price,” the officer said. “Don’t worry about that. Just one of these flintlocks will buy you a rowboat large enough for everything but the horses.”
“And you can keep the horses once we’re gone. All we want is a boat.”
“Fair enough, but you better hide those fancy blasters. I know you got them from the cannies, but if Thayer spots those, he’ll take them away. Road tax, defense budget, whatever he feels like calling it this month.”
“He can try,” Dean said stoically.
“Won’t just try, lad. Baron Thayer would get them any way necessary,” Mitchum stated. “That’s a fact. And we’ll help him do it, too. We owe you big, but the baron has our oath.”
Yeah, Ryan thought as much. But they had walked this razor’s edge before and survived. Briefly, he considered having J.B. stay outside and keep watch, but decided it would be wiser to keep everybody together. Otherwise, they might have come back for the Armorer through an army of sec men. Besides, they had a few special items that Mitchum knew nothing about in case of trouble.
“Hide the weapons,” Ryan commanded.
Reluctantly, the companions removed their gun belts and holsters, hiding the blasters and ammo inside their bedrolls and backpacks. Flintlocks were tucked into their belts now, ammo bags of black powder and lead shot slung across shoulders to distribute the weight.
Shaking the reins, Ryan made a clucking sound with his tongue and started the horse at a canter through the field heading toward Ratak ville. Mitchum galloped to catch up and stayed alongside, while the rest of the group followed close behind.
Chapter Eleven
As the companions and the sec men rode toward the jungle ville, Mitchum started to wave at the guards on the wall.
“Gotta show we’re friendly,” he said, “or we don’t even get close. Standing orders are to shoot on sight.”
“Shoot who?” Mildred asked, rocking to the movement of her mount.
“Everybody,” the colonel answered. Then he pointed at a sec man on the wall, who was sitting with his legs dangling over the top and sipping from a gourd. “Pierce! Put down that shine!”
The startled sec man dropped the gourd and quickly stood, wiping his mouth on a sleeve. Squinting down at the riders, he broke into a smile. “Fuck a mutie, it’s the colonel. Hey, Sarge! Colonel Mitchum’s back!”