“We don’t have to trade with them,” Ganley suggested.
“What are you saying?”
“We have a well-stocked armory that we’ve rarely had to use. We could form a strong raiding party and simply take what we need from this farm.”
“But they would be armed and prepared for such an attack,” the baron said. “We’d lose many of the ville’s best citizens.”
“The ville is dying as it is,” the sec chief pointed out. “At least this way if we die, we do so trying to save the ville.”
The baron considered it, then said, “Bring as much fish as you can to trade. If they refuse, use all the blasters and grens we have to take what we need.”
“As you wish,” the sec chief said.
“The survival of Reichel ville depends on it.”
Chapter Ten
“Get in the wag,” the sec man grunted, pushing Ryan hard from behind. The one-eyed man’s step quickened, but he didn’t stumble. He wouldn’t give the stupes the satisfaction. They’d butted him with their blasters, kicked them with their boots and punched him countless times, but he hadn’t fallen.
It was partly pride on Ryan’s part, but also a matter of survival. If he had been unable to carry on, they probably would have chilled him on the spot rather than drag him all the way back to the farm. If he could hold out long enough, he might get the opportunity to repay them for their kindness.
Ryan still didn’t understand how they’d managed to capture him so easily. He was usually a light sleeper and should have awakened at the slightest bit of trouble. Instead he was tired and slow-footed and hadn’t even noticed Krysty was gone. If he hadn’t been so groggy, he might have been able to chill the second sec man as he’d done the first, but his arms and legs seemed so heavy, he was lucky to get just one of them.
And what about J.B.? These sec men had been able to sneak into their rooms and take them away on the Armorer’s watch. These sec men were either something special, and Ryan hadn’t seen any evidence to prove that, or the same thing that had slowed him had slowed J.B., as well. Judging by the way they handled themselves and the way they’d treated him so far, Ryan was convinced it was the latter.
The wag was an old double-axled transport with a flatbed in back outfitted with wooden benches to sit on. Ryan had trouble climbing onto the back of the wag, but there was no shortage of sec men willing to lend him a hand. They eagerly grabbed him and threw him into the back of the wag, his head slamming into one of the wooden benches.
“Ryan!” a voice called out.
It sounded like Krysty.
Ryan opened his eye, and there was the titian-haired beauty, on her knees and leaning over him with her hands tied behind her back. He checked to see if she’d been hurt in any way, but she looked to be fine. That was good for the sec men, because if there’d been a scratch on her, there would be even more hell to pay.
“Are you all right?” Krysty asked.
Ryan nodded.
“You don’t look all right,” Mildred said, coming to Ryan’s side and leaning awkwardly over him, her hands still bound behind her, as well.
Ryan tried to say something, forgetting his mouth was still covered with tape.
Mildred turned and wriggled her fingers. Ryan moved closer so that the edge of the tape touched Mildred’s hand. A few moments later she had a firm grip on the corner of the tape. Ryan rolled away from her and the tape tore away from his face, taking hair and several patches of skin with it. There was some pain, but at least now he could take deeper breaths and talk.
“Are you two hurt?” Ryan asked, getting up from the floor of the wag and taking a seat on a bench.
“Not really,” Mildred answered. “They’ve handled both of us with kid gloves. Real gentle like, which makes me a bit nervous.”
“Is there anyone else?”
“No, just the three of us in this wag,” Krysty answered.