Marshal Law

by Adam D Jones

  Raine.

  The boy stood atop the wrecked ship, holding a Dae stone that must have been knocked free from the ship engine. His outstretched hand out threw a pillar of freezing air at the Sovereign. Raine stepped down carefully, walking past Marshal, his power pushing back against the Sovereign’s flames.

  “The blood of the Gifted runs in my veins!” shouted Raine. “Because I am the Gifted.”

  The Sovereign continued to bellow a pillar of fire that could not stop Raine’s onslaught.

  “I am Gifted,” Raine repeated. “Not you.”

  ◆◆◆

  Doesn’t he need to take a breath?

  Raine knew the fire couldn’t last. It was a temporary effect. But the Sovereign wasn’t slowing down. Like an eternal howl, his horrible mouth spewed fire from his gaping maw.

  Raine’s hand, the one holding the freezing salts, felt empty. He could feel his fingers against his palm in a few places because the salts had already been used up. How long can I keep doing this? He stepped closer, nearly in arm’s reach of the Sovereign, hoping that the freezing salts would last longer if the blast was smaller, but that didn’t sound like the kind of idea that would work. Somehow, he knew if Dawn were hearing his thoughts she would be shaking her head.

  Forgot how tired this makes me. His arms were failing, and his legs wanted to shake.

  Raine held up the Dae stone, which glowed weakly. He looked around him and saw people pouring out of their homes and leaning out of fully opened windows. He was also vaguely aware of the people who were beginning to surround him.

  But the freezing salts were almost finished. He could feel the last of them being consumed. The Sovereign’s power pushed back, and Raine staggered and lost his footing.

  Many hands grabbed him. Instead of falling, Raine was held up. His right arm, the arm holding the Dae stone, was lifted by others. But it wasn’t going to be enough. The Dae stone’s power began to fail while the Sovereign advanced on him.

  I’m out. We’ll all be burned up now.

  Raine screamed as the Dae stone gave its last. The blast of cold air he had been making weakened. Only a thread of the power remained between Raine and the Sovereign.

  “Here,” someone whispered. A woman.

  She pressed something new into his palm, and the blue cyclone returned. It wasn’t freezing salts that had been handed to him, but something that created almost the same effect. The person kept his hand held in theirs, squeezing tight, while Raine took a step toward the Sovereign. Together, the unseen crowd walked with him as Raine’s power pushed the Sovereign.

  “We are the gifted!” they shouted.

  The Sovereign stumbled, unable to move against the blast.

  “We are the gifted,” came the cry.

  They chanted again, and the Sovereign fell to his knees. His power left him, and the flames died. Exhausted, he slumped to the ground, the power from the vial now used up. The old man shuddered and fell, his body trying to overcome the toll of abusing the Gift like he had. The crowd gathered, closed in on the Sovereign, and Raine noticed them pulling of jackets and robes, showing the Sovereign their arms, arms covered in spots, and he finally realized he’d been surrounded by the Lodi.

  Raine stood over the Sovereign. “We are the gifted.”

  He looked to his left and saw he was holding hands with Hild, who smiled at him. Whatever she’d put in his hand had been the right mixture, the exact ingredients he needed to fight the Sovereign.

  Hild? How did you know—

  Raine gasped. “You...you read to forbidden books!”

  “And thought about them every day.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “When I saw you fighting the Sovereign, I realized one of my tea bags contained what you would need. That’s what I gave you.”

  At least a hundred Lodi now surrounded the Sovereign in a tight circle.

  “No one is coming to save you,” said Hild. She stood in front of the Sovereign, hands on her hips. “Every single soldier you left in town was abducted by the Lodi today while you wasted time chasing Raine and two sandships. Don’t worry, we won’t hurt them.”

  Marshal pushed through carrying a pair of steel shackles. Even the Sovereign would have trouble breaking out of them. Especially as weak as he appeared to be.

  “Thanks for bringing the cavalry,” said Marshal.

  the Sovereign didn’t look like he was going anywhere. He writhed on his knees and looked down, his body shaking.

  “I suppose,” said Marshal, “It’s time to rewrite the law around here.”

  He approached the Sovereign.

  The Sovereign acted in a blur.

  ◆◆◆

  Marshal barely caught the movement; it happened too fast.

  He wasn’t completely surprised. He’d expected some last-minute resistance. Marshal, and most of the crowd, jumped back. While the Sovereign jumped to his feet, his hand reached out and his fingers reached toward something that had been left on the ground.

  No.

  Marshal reached for his sidearm and his fingers fumbled into an empty holster. The Sovereign rose with a grin, his hand gripping what he had found—Marshal’s gun, forgotten under the sand.

  The Sovereign raised the weapon, his tired face imprinted with grim certainty.

  Erianthe.

  Marshal remembered the kind touch of his wife.

  He looked down the barrel of his own gun and remembered his daughters, fighting over books and tugging on his clothes when they wanted to tell him a story.

  Cora.

  Agna.

  I’m so sorry.

  ◆◆◆

  The Sovereign saw Marshal’s face beyond the pistol sights. His own breathing came in labored pains and his body trembled from excessive use of the chemicals, but his weary arms still had the strength to wield this crude weapon. An easy shot. A perfect picture of folly for the gathered crowd. The story that would be told, forever, would be this man’s death.

  His teeth pushed together while his lips curled.

  The Sovereign pulled the trigger.

  The wheel spun, clicking against the flint, throwing a tiny spark that touched the gunpowder.

  The gun rang out with a bang and a tendril of smoke rose from the barrel.

  ◆◆◆

  The crowd winced as the Sovereign fired.

  He pulled the trigger again.

  Before he could pull it a third time, Marshal reached across and snatched it from his tired hands. Amelia was there in an instant to wrestle the Sovereign to the ground.

  Marshal let his heart beat normally a few times before looking at down at his old sidearm. For a moment, when he had been looking down that barrel, he had forgotten.

  “Sovereign, don’t you know anything?” Marshal slid the pistol into its holster and looked up with a smile. “I hardly ever load this thing.”

  40

  After the dust settled, Marshal climbed to the top of a tall building near the wall and watched things proceed.

  Lodi were beginning to patrol the streets. When they’d entered Gamon, the Sovereign’s forces were nearly entirely beyond the gates, scouring the desert for Lodi. Hild’s people had subdued the rest, making it possible for them to draw out the Sovereign. By the time they marched the Sovereign into an underground cell and slammed the door on him, there was no one from the Republic left in Gamon to stop Hild and the Lodi from taking control of the city.

  The Sovereign had started to go quietly, only mumbling to himself as they led him away, but by the time he was being shoved down a dark hallway in the prison basement he’d started shouting, screaming about someone else being already on their way. Marshal assumed these were desperate bluffs about reinforcements, which couldn’t possibly do any good now.

  Once Second Light had nearly fallen and starlight poked through the red sky, Marshal, relaxing on a rooftop near the city gate, finally dared to relax. His back stung and his feet were sore; he stretched out as best he could on the slanted roof and looked out acros
s the desert.

  Captain Balen had sent men to every part of the wall to man the cannons, firing warning shots at every Republic ship that came near. As often as possible, Balen, with a child-like grin, rushed to fire the cannons himself. More sandships were discovered in the Grey Quarter, and after a few repairs they were making rounds just past the city, flying large flags bearing the symbol of the Corsairs. By the end of the day, the Republic ships stopped coming, and Marshal reckoned they had given up and headed to another city. Gamon wasn’t theirs anymore.

  After the Republic ships stopped appearing, wagons came through the gates carrying Lodi families. Marshal watched each one carefully, hoping a beautiful woman and two pretty girls would step out. By now, they’ll already look older than when I left. He touched his temple, where more hairs had traitorously turned silver. That goes for their daddy, too.

  Dawn and Amelia were the first to find his hidden sanctuary.

  “May we join you?” asked Dawn.

  “’Course.” He waved them over. “Just relaxing. Hope I’m not neglecting anyone.”

  “It’s all taking care of itself, mostly.” Dawn sat carefully. She’d been more hurt than the others in the fight. “The Lodi had a plan, and now they’re making it happen. I don’t even know if we’re needed right now.”

  Marshal watched her settle down and wince when her tailbone touched the rooftop. I’d tell her to see a doctor if I thought it would do any good.

  Amelia stood tall and looked out.

  “Relax, Amelia,” said Marshal. “Fight’s over for today.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I...I’ll try to do that.” She lowered herself onto the flat roof next to Marshal.

  “Anything happen to you today, Amelia?” asked Dawn. “Anything unusual? You must be going through a lot of new experiences.”

  Amelia looked out, toward the Grey Quarter. She kept her gaze there while she bit down on her lip. After a few seconds she turned to Dawn and said, “No.”

  “Just an ordinary day for Amelia!” laughed Marshal.

  The door opened behind them and Marshal turned to see Hild climbing up with a few Lodi.

  “You’re a hard man to find,” she said.

  “I used to pride myself on it.”

  Marshal looked out at the silent desert, watching silhouettes of wagons and caravans making their way from the horizon. He waited, already certain what her next question would be.

  “Why didn’t you load your gun today, Marshal.”

  Marshal turned to look her in the eye. “I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be the man came into town and shot someone to steal what he wanted. That’s what fools do, and it never gets us anywhere. May have been a big risk, but I didn’t want my daughters to hear those kinds of stories about their daddy.”

  Hild narrowed her eyes in thought, studying Marshal’s face. He could tell she had another question.

  “Marshal, the Lodi have asked me to run this city. Like I did The Dunes.” She shook her head. “They must not have heard that I nearly got everyone killed.”

  “I think you did great,” said Dawn.

  “I appreciate that.” She took a deep breath. “Marshal, I want you to run this city with me. Both of us. Not a Lodi or a Republic city, but something new. Something we build together.”

  Marshal laughed and shook his head. “I’m out of town at First Light, Hild. I got three pretty faces to track down. Last I heard, our friend Rion was taking them to some place safe. Engle, I think.”

  “Engle is gone,” said Hild.

  “No!” Marshal grabbed her shoulders.

  “Not like that Marshal.” Hild tried to calm her voice. “The people of Engle pulled up stakes ahead of the Republic’s advance. They simply relocated.”

  Marshal sat back. “Then I have to leave. Tonight, if can.”

  “You can’t find them by just poking around the desert, Marshal. Let me make you a deal: you help me run Gamon, and we’ll use our resources to find your family. The Lodi look after each other. Trust me; we’ll find them.”

  Marshal looked at the horizon, then to Hild, stretching out his hand. “You got a deal.”

  Hild shook. “You’ve made me happy. We’ll start tomorrow.”

  Yeah, I can’t wait.

  “Where’s Raine?” asked Dawn. “He should join us.”

  “He’s there.” Amelia pointed toward a lookout tower along the city wall, the tallest point in town. “He’s been working his way up for some time.”

  In the twilight, they watched Raine climb the steps around the tower and eventually reach the top. The boy held out a Dae stone, and it shone with a light that spread and spread, opening a crack of light that burst the night wide open.

  “Is that meant as a message?” asked Amelia.

  “No,” said Marshal with a proud smile, “it’s a beacon.”

  Epilogue

  The Lodi celebrated long after the night closed in on them.

  Below the city, past the damp cells where prisoners ate in the dark, a narrow corridor reached down deep, leading to a final, forgotten cell, a cell with a single prisoner.

  The Sovereign kept himself crouched in a dark corner. Across from him, mice scampered across the plate of food he neglected. He cackled at first, then crooned his words, over and over, raising them to be louder and louder each time he spoke and always filling his words with mad laughter.

  “They are coming, Marshal!” He shouted. “You have done nothing—they are coming!”

  Author's Note

  Thanks for reading Marshal Law. There's a lot more in store for Marshal, Dawn, Raine, and even Amelia, so don't miss out. Visit AuthorAdamJones.com, sign up for my newsletter, and be the first to know when the next story is ready.

  The adventure continues with Desert Raine, coming early 2020!

  Adam D. Jones, M.A., is an author, anthologist, and medieval historian from Paris, Texas.

  Outside of the MARSHAL LAW trilogy, his publications include historical essays, board games, a well-reviewed collection of short stories (THE LOST LEGENDS: TALES OF MYTH AND MAGIC), and an upcoming epic fantasy series called THE LAND WITHOUT KINGS.

  www.AuthorAdamJones.com

  (Photo by Nicholas L. Laning)