This is just a short chapter. I will post one-a-days for the rest of the week to get us into the story a bit: Dawn.

Stone

2.

The next morning the pair crawled out of the lean-to and Stone went to the copse of trees to do his morning ablutions, which included trying to tame the massive hard on he had suffered through the entire night, due to being so close to the beautiful woman who seemed to be made for sex. But she didn’t want it, and Stone was not the type who would rape a girl, which is what he considered ordering her to make love to him would be.

The ride through the morning was easier, since Rayla now had her own horse. It had taken a bit of work to get the wild mare to accept her, but finally Doug got involved. Stone got on the stallion, who neighed orders to the mare who first let Rayla approach her, then allowed her to stroke her neck, and finally allowed the girl to mount her. The fact that Doug already had a rider made the mare more comfortable with Rayla, who weighed a fraction of what Stone did. She rode bareback, and really didn’t need to steer the beast, which followed immediately behind Doug. Doug told her that he had named the mare Beauty.

The pack was arranged onto one the other animal, Glory, and it and the filly, named Lucy, followed.

As they rode along the brook, which slowly grew larger, Rayla called out to Stone: “There is a town or large Village ahead. Arthur says it is called Greenwood, and it has about 800 residents. We should reach it by noon.”

Stone realized that having aerial reconnaissance was handy, and told Rayla to thank Arthur for the information. The sun was high when they saw the village near the brook, which now could be called a small river. There was no sign announcing the name of the town. As they neared it, they saw more farmhouses, which were not vacant and burned out like they had been at the start of the trip.

It looked much like a town in a western, with a single dirt main street with businesses along it, and side streets with houses branching off. There were two buildings that interested him: one had a sign saying saloon, and the other said Hotel. The Hotel looked nicer and would be the safer choice, and they pulled up in front of it.

“Arthur says that they won’t let ‘my type’ into that place,” Rayla said. Stone cursed, but they veered off to the other side of the road. There was a livery stable next to the saloon, and they went there first.

“Water the horses and feed them,” Stone told the stable man who came out. He took the horses, but really didn’t take his eyes off of Rayla. And as he started to notice people in the streets, Stone realized that Rayla was not so tiny. She was nearly as tall as the men of the town, and taller than most of the women. It was not that she was small, but that Stone was huge. He had been just over six feet tall in Saskatchewan, but this new muscular body must be over seven feet tall. He towered over everyone and had to duck to enter many doors.

In the saloon Rayla stood close behind Stone as he went to the man at the bar. As Stone was ordering food for them both, the girl let out a shriek and Stone turned to see a big man fondling her rear.

“Take that hand off or lose it,” Stone said sternly.

“Aw she’s just a dolly,” the man said, although he did move his hand. “I’ll fight you for her.” He stood up, and it was clear that he had been the biggest man in town, although he was a head smaller than Stone.

“On the street now,” Stone said. “Get a sword if you have one.” Turning to the bartender. “Get that food ready, this won’t take long. Rayla can start eating right away.”

He followed the man out and watched him head to a nearby blacksmith shop. He came back with a huge sword that most men couldn’t carry, let alone swing. He stood in the middle of the street, and walked towards Stone as a circle of people that gathered around, much like a schoolyard fight. He was swinging the sword as if to show that he could handle it. It was twice as thick as Stone’s sword, but as soon as he neared and started to swing a blow, Stone’s sword took over and made a vicious swipe that made a mighty clang as it hit the bigger sword and then amazingly clove right through it, with most of the blade falling to the ground.

The smith stared at the broken sword in his hand for a second, and then dropped to the ground.

“I concede sire,” he said. “That is the best sword I ever made, and you destroyed it with one blow. I beg mercy.”

“Are you the only blacksmith in town?” Stone asked.

“Yes sire, I am training my son, but his is only 12.”

“I would not deprive the town of its smith,” Stone said. “You may rise. I think you might pay for our food and stabling fees if you wish to stay on my good side.”

“Gladly sire.”

“And leave off the Sire nonsense. My name is Stone.”

“I am Notchless,” the smith said. “I will go to the stable and make sure your horses are well looked after. Tell Henderson I will pay for your meal.”

Stone headed back into the saloon, and was astonished to see Rayla caressing two ragged looking men. Her face showed desire, but then he noticed that her eyes showed horror at what she was doing.

“You two. Leave her be.”

“She is our slave,” the younger of the two said. “We said the binding spell, and it took. She is ours for the rest of her life.”

“Or the rest of your lives,” Stone said, and he drew his sword and thrust it through the chest of the man in front, and it went clean through the chest of the man standing behind. The men looked down at the weapon sticking out of them, and then died. Stone heard the sword singing with delight at having tasted blood, after missing out with the duel on the street.

Rayla instantly got control of herself again, and watched Stone lift the men off the floor and carry his burden out the door, where he tipped the sword down and the bodies fell onto the street.

Back in the saloon, Henderson, the barkeep was spreading sawdust on the blood on the floor.

“Sorry about messing up your floor, barkeep,” Stone said apologetically.

“Don’t be,” the man said. “Hopefully there will be a stain there. Everyone within miles will come to see it. It will be great for business. Your food is there on the table. Your … companion … was just getting started when those louts interrupted her.”

“Are they family men?” Stone asked as he sat down to eat, although first rubbing Rayla’s shoulder to help calm her down.

“No, they are layabouts. Neither one even has a job. They would cut wood in the forest and sell it for firewood to get the odd coin. They’ll not be missed.”

“Good. You make a good stew. A bit different from the rabbit stew we dined on last night. Compliments to the cook.”

“My wife, sire. She is an excellent cook. It is why we do so well here. Better food than the hotel, and at a lower cost. Not that I will charge you anything: the excitement will draw trade for the next week, and they will talk of it for the next year.”

Rayla didn’t eat at first, clearly upset by the events. But Stone waited until she settled down enough to get a good meal into her. They only drank water: Stone had a sense that as thirsty as they were, alcohol would dull their senses and make the afternoon trip more difficult. After about a half hour they finished and Stone started to see what the barkeep meant: there were dozens of people coming into the bar and ordering drinks, then staring at the two of them the entire time.

Finally they finished, and the bartender refused to take any payment. It suddenly hit Stone that they had no money anyway. He went with trepidation to the stables, and found that the fees there had been paid for by Notchless, the smith that Stone had spared earlier. The man was getting little work done in his forge: a throng of villagers surrounded him and looked at the broken sword. The other debris he had deposited on the street had been cleared away before they left the saloon.

Soon they were on the road again, this time with Rayla on a saddle that Notchless had given for Beauty. Stone noted that the saddle didn’t have stirrups like Doug’s did. There was a simple rope hanging down on the left side that allowed Rayla to mount the horse comfortably.

“I learned a bit talking to the smith,” Stone said. “Apparently the area we started from was called the Barrens. It used to be a productive farming area, but it was a bit far from Greenwood and when the new Duke took over a few years back he stopped sending patrols out into the area. As a result, the slavers travelling through the area stopped at farms along the route and either killed or enslaved the residents, burning the thatched buildings.”

“Damn, but I would like to run into some slavers about now. By the way, I have a name for my sword,” the big man said. “She is Impatia, from impatient. Pate for short. She was quite pissed off when I spared the smith, and was only a bit mollified by spearing Tweedledee and Tweedledum in the bar. As I was dumping them on the street outside, she insisted on twisting, to enlarge the wound, even though they were both dead at the time.”

“I thank you for saving me. That bonding was so powerful: I couldn’t fight it. It is not so bad, being bonded to you. And if you want to meet slavers, you are in luck. A train of them left Greenwood this morning, and they move much slower than we do. A slave train moves at the speed of the slowest slaves, who are on foot. Mounted we ride four or five times as fast. Arthur says we should catch up to the train in about an hour.”