The Bloody Frontier (Pistols and Pyramids Omnibus Book 1)

by Jim Johnson

  What in the danky depths of the fucking Duat was happening on the frontier?

  Tjety stared at the pair of foul creatures, absorbing what information he could. He scanned his eyes around what parts of the caravan he could see and picked out at least a dozen of the things, all of which shuffled along with no utterance or apparent intelligence. All of them looked to have been pulled out of ancient crypts or graves. Some were missing hands or even full arms, but all were mobile on two legs, or most of two legs.

  He crawled back inside the wagon and glanced at the villagers. “These things attacked your village?”

  Some of the villagers nodded. The older man spoke up again. “They don’t move very fast, but they’re stronger than they look. Between them and the bandits, there was nothing none of us could do. There ain’t no way to kill them.”

  Another villager, an old crone, added, “The dead can’t be killed.”

  Tjety rubbed distractedly as his arm wound throbbed anew. He suspected infection was slipping in. He sure hoped it didn’t turn sour before he had a chance to put fire to it. That would be the only way to save it. He licked his dry lips with his dry tongue. “If these things can be created, they can be destroyed.”

  The old man shook his head. “We’re not gonna to get the chance. They’re gonna kill us all.”

  “I don’t think so.” Tjety raised one grimy finger. “If they were going to kill you, they would have done so in the village. Why bother dragging you all this way only to kill you?”

  Yelling from outside distracted him and the others, and after footsteps neared the wagon, the flaps were thrown aside and the girl who’d been taken captive was tossed into the back of the wagon. She landed partly on Tjety and partly on the hard wooden planks.

  She managed to work herself around into a sitting position and spit toward the bandit who had tossed her into the wagon. Mustache took the spittle full in the chest. He wiped it off, backhanded the girl back into the wagon, and then stormed off.

  The girl wheezed a few moments as she tried to catch her breath. Tjety and another villager helped her to a sitting position.

  Tjety stared at her. “You all right?”

  She rubbed her head with her hands. “I think I’ll be all right. Been hit in the head too many times lately.”

  He frowned at her. “Don’t I remember seeing you in the trees?”

  She stared at him and then her eyes got big and she nodded excitedly. “I saw you looking at me, and then something in my mind snapped and I knew I had to try and save you! You’re a Ranger, right?”

  Before Tjety could answer, one of the other villagers nudged the girl’s arm. “My daughter! Have you seen Nauny?”

  The other villagers in the wagon crowded in, questions and pleas piling on top of each other. The girl looked overwhelmed, and covered her head with her hands.

  Tjety raised his good hand and called out, “Enough! Shush, people. Give her a minute to collect herself.”

  The girl gave him a grateful look and dropped her arms to wrap them around herself self-consciously. “I was in the other covered wagon with the children.” She glanced at the worried mother and nodded. “Nauny is there, as are most of the other children from the village.” She paused to catch her breath, and then added, “And I saw the bodies in the other wagon too, the uncovered one. It’s…it’s bad.”

  One of the elders reached out to her. “Who did you see in that wagon?”

  The girl numbly glanced at him and then started to list names, but stopped after the third when Tjety rested his hand on her shoulder. “Stop, it’s all right. Time enough to list and honor the dead later.”

  She trailed off and stared at him through tear-rimmed eyes.

  To the group at large, Tjety said, “It’s not so important right now who’s alive and who ain’t. There’ll be time enough to lay your fallen family and friends to rest. For now, we have to figure out what’s going on and what to do about it.”

  Some of the villagers still looked to be deep in despair, but some seemed to take his words to heart.

  The girl stared at him. “Why did they attack my village and take us captive?”

  Tjety thought hard on that one and dredged up memories of the recent past. “Their boss, the one with the scar, mentioned something about needing living slaves more than needing those walking dead things. Whatever these bandits are doing at their quarry, they need living people to do it.”

  “But what? Cut stone? Why take us prisoner to cut stone?”

  The same questions rolled around in his head, but he didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know, but I’m sure there’s a reason. They’re not just out here to attack fishing villages. I’m sure there’s a deeper purpose at work here. That’s what we have to find out.” The sound of movement outside the wagon distracted him again and he paused to see what was coming next.

  Meret pushed open the wagon flaps and swept a glare across everyone in the wagon before resting his eyes on Tjety. “Boss told me to keep an eye on ya until we get to the quarry tomorrow. Wants you special, Ranger. Any of the rest of you cause a fuss…” He patted the grip of Tjety’s pistol, tucked into the belt around his waist.

  Tjety glared at the bandit and thought to make a move toward him, but didn’t trust that he had the strength right now to make it effective. “Seems like your boss isn’t too happy, Meret. Couldn’t find something more important for you to do?”

  Meret swore in Hesso and leaned into the wagon enough to punch Tjety’s leg. “Shut the fuck up!” Meret leaned against the back of the wagon. “Mouth off again and I’ll put your iron to use.”

  Tjety rubbed at the newly-forming welt on his thigh. “I thought you just said your boss wanted us alive when we get to the quarry.”

  Meret grinned over clenched teeth. “He did, at that. But he didn’t say shit about your wagon-mates.” He pulled the pistol out of his belt, cocked it, then leveled it toward the girl. “Want I should blow this slut’s head off?”

  Some of the villagers gasped in alarm. The girl stared at the barrel with wide eyes.

  Meret sneered. “That’s within your power. Give me more grief and I’ll pull this here trigger and send her off to the last road with your own gods-damned pistol.” He met Tjety’s eyes and yelled out, “Is that what you want?”

  Tjety blinked a couple times, silently cursing himself for goading the man.

  “Don’t you let him kill me,” whispered the girl.

  Tjety stared at her, impressed at the grit in her voice and the flinty look in her eyes. If he hadn’t been thinking straight, he might have been looking at and hearing his sister, Neferuta.

  He peripherally sensed another half-dozen pairs of eyes in the wagon locked onto him. In a flash of insight, whether it was delivered from Mayat or something else, he realized he’d been a fool to focus on his own pain and misery. He recalled the oath he’d made in the village, realized he’d forgotten about it along the way.

  Or had he just avoided it? He shook his head. Oh, dread Lady Mayat, please look kindly upon your weak-ass servant.

  He took a deep breath that caught from the pains in his chest, and focused fully on the young woman. With as much conviction as he could muster, he said, “I will not.”

  He then turned all of his focus onto Meret. Digging deep for the right words and for any kind of support from his drained hekau, he said, “Meret, I apologize for what I said. Please don’t shoot this girl; these people. If you’ve gotta kill someone, kill me.” He spread his hands out in supplication.

  The barrel of his pistol shook in Meret’s hand. Meret stared at him for a long silent moment, and then leaned into the wagon again to shove the barrel against Tjety’s forehead.

  Through gritted teeth, Meret hissed, “Gimme one good reason I shouldn’t pull this trigger right here and now.” His hand started shaking harder.

  Tjety closed his eyes. “Do what you will.” He braced himself for what he could only hope would be a sudden sharp pain and then a short trip to the D
uat.

  It didn’t come, not after one long breath or another one. He cracked open one eye. Meret was staring at him down the barrel of his own pistol, holding the grip in both shaking hands.

  “Gods damn you, Meret!” cried out someone outside of Tjety’s view. Hands outside the wagon grabbed Meret around the arms and neck and bodily pulled him out of the wagon. His arms flung out wide and a wild shot from the pistol punched a hole in the wagon’s canvas siding.

  One of the other bandits dragged Meret to the ground while Qebsenuf glanced into the wagon with his scar livid on his face and then focused on Meret. “I fucking told you to guard them, not shoot them up! Get the fuck out of here and go get yourself cleaned up!”

  Meret, sprawled out on the ground with a fellow bandit on his chest, blinked sweat out his eyes, and shot a look of anger and hate at Qebsenuf and then toward Tjety. “This ain’t the last you’ll see of me, Ranger!”

  Qebsenuf kicked Meret’s leg. “Just shut up and be quiet. We’ll be at the quarry soon enough. Maybe then you can kill him before me or Master Deshi decide to kill you.” He gestured toward the other bandit. “Come on, let him up and go help him get cleaned up.”

  Qebsenuf shot another glare toward Tjety. “And you. I encourage you to also shut up and get some rest. You’re gonna need it once we reach the quarry.”

  Qebsenuf turned and watched as Meret and the other bandit walked away from the wagon, then waved over a couple other armed bandits. “Watch they don’t escape.”

  Tjety breathed a quiet sigh of relief as Qebsenuf moved out of sight, and nodded briefly to the girl. He sank back against the side of wagon and closed his eyes. How in the deepest pits of the Duat was he going to get the villagers out of this?

  Meret and Qebsenuf were unwilling to kill him or the others, but why? Just who, or what, was waiting for them at the quarry?

  He shook his head. He had no intention of finding out. Somehow, he was going to get them all away from this camp and from the madmen who’d taken them all.

  CHAPTER 16

  RUIA RESTED IN THE WAGON IN a stupor after Scar left with Meret and the other bandits, conserving her strength and willing her throbbing head to subside. As the light outside transitioned from sunset to moonrise, her stomach growled from not having had anything to eat for well over a day. She was cold, tired, hungry, and unhappy at being stuck in a wagon again.

  A nudge roused her. Elder Sefer leaned in close. "That Ranger wants to talk to you."

  Hope sparked in her heart and she felt a strange little pulse from her amulet. She got up to hands and knees as quietly as she could, and clambered over some of the adults in order to make her way to the far side of the wagon, where the Ranger sat with his back pressed against the low wooden wall where the canvas top was lashed down.

  He nodded at her as she scooted across the wooden planks and wedged herself in between him and old Ma Djedefa, who was snoring up a storm with her head lolling against the floor.

  The Ranger put his good arm around her and pulled her in close, startling her. Her breath caught. What were his intentions? He leaned his head down and brought his lips to her ears. The scruff on his chin scratched at her earlobe. "We gotta figure a way to get out of here."

  Ruia nodded against his mouth and tried to cover a shiver of surprise. The Ranger was talking to her as if she was an equal. "I agree, but how?"

  “Not sure, but I’m gonna need your help. Maybe your people too."

  A little jolt went down her spine and she felt the hairs on her arms stand up on end. Her people? What did he think she was, a village elder? She still had her sidelock of youth.

  He added, "If we can get our hands on some guns, maybe my pistol, we might stand a chance. We can't all sneak out of here unseen. We’ll have to fight."

  Ruia stared at him in the dim light, a mix of wonder and confusion rolling around her mind. A sudden thought struck her and in spite of the situation, she chuckled.

  The Ranger asked, "What's so funny?"

  “I know that bandit’s name is Meret, but I don't know yours." She lifted her head to stare into his eyes. "My name is Ruia."

  He smiled in the darkness, his teeth a break of white in the dim light. "It's a right honor to meet you, Ruia. I’m Tjety. I'm a Ranger of Mayat."

  She returned the smile and tried to tamp down her excitement. "I knew it! When I saw you on the back of that horse, I saw your blue headcloth and your curved blade. I figured you had to be either a Ranger or someone who had killed a Ranger and stolen his things." She stopped herself short, realizing she was babbling. Gods! Why would a Ranger get her so flustered? She’d never met one before.

  His body shook once as he let out a short laugh. "Nah, I haven't had my stuff stolen from me yet. Well, except now, maybe." He nudged his chin toward the wagon flaps. "Meret’s got my pistol, and one of the other bastards has my blade. And my horse, come to think of it." He scratched at the thin stubble on his chin and sighed again.

  She recalled the horse he'd been tied to. "I saw him taken to be with the other horses. I think he's still all right."

  "That's good to know. I'm rather fond of that horse."

  Ruia smiled at him, then shook her head, realizing she was mooning over him like a silly little girl. She cleared her throat and said, “Lady Mayat told me to keep an eye out for her servant. I guess she meant you.”

  He flinched hard against her. In a harsh whisper, he asked, “The fuck did you just say?”

  She leaned away from his hold around her, tamping down a flutter of panic in her stomach. “I…I said the Lady Mayat…”

  Tjety leaned in close. “The Lady Mayat…spoke to you?”

  She nodded with wide eyes. “I think so. She said that’s who she was. I…I got hit on the head, though, so I might have just imagined it.”

  He opened his mouth, closed it, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “How about you tell me everything that happened involving this Lady Mayat?”

  Ruia blinked a couple times, then organized her scattered thoughts. “I was hiding in that wagon of the dead. I felt lost.” She stared past him and beyond the open flaps of the tents, catching sight of a few stars in the night sky.

  “I was so scared, and alone. And then I heard whispers, sort of, in my head.” She glanced at him to see if he’d say she was crazy, but he was staring at her close, and she could feel the tension in his body pressed against hers.

  “And I clutched the amulet my ma gave to me, and then this vision of a beautiful glowing woman appeared in my head, and she had long black hair and a large white feather tied into her braids.”

  Tjety let out a slow breath. “Lady Mayat.”

  Ruia nodded. “That’s who she said she was.”

  Tjety shook her, insistent but gentle. “What else did she say?”

  Ruia frowned. “She said something about a difficult path before me, to look for her servants, and something about marking her and remembering.”

  “Huh.” He cleared his throat, and turned away to look outside, maybe toward the same stars she had seen. “Lady Mayat.” He turned his focus back to her. “May I see this amulet of yours, Ruia?”

  She nodded, and fished it out from underneath the neckline of her dress. She cupped it in her hands and presented it to him.

  He leaned in close and reached his wounded hand out of his sling and touched it. She felt a pulse from the amulet and another flutter in her gut. What had he just done?

  He must have felt her flinch because he pulled his hand away and tucked it back into the sling. “By the Gods, Ruia, I wish we had more time.”

  She frowned and tucked the amulet back beneath her tattered dress. “Why? Time for what?”

  He leaned his head back against the canvas and sighed again. “If that amulet is what I think it is, and if my weak and weary hekau isn’t wrong, you’re a very special young woman.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  He squeezed her in a brief hug. “May the gods grant us th
e time for me to try and explain. For now…I think we have a more immediate issue.”

  She frowned again, feeling a surge of frustration well up inside her. “Don’t you think for an instant that I’m going to let you forget about this. I want to know everything you’re not telling me.”

  He smiled at her in the darkness. “I like your spirit, Ruia, and I promise to tell you as much as I can, assuming we get the fuck out of here in one piece.”

  Ruia sighed and also leaned back against the wagon’s canvas wall. "Anyways, on that. Any idea on how we’re gonna get some weapons?"

  He nodded. "Once I got settled in the wagon, and once I figured the guards were gonna leave us alone, I got to work loosening the lashings to this wagon's canvas cover. I've got part of the bindings loose, but not enough for me to slip through. You're about half my size, so I thought you might be able to slip through the gap between the cover and the wagon."

  She moved her hands behind him and pushed against the canvas. Sure enough, there was some give. "I think I can fit, yeah, but what then? Where am I supposed to go?"

  He shrugged. "I figured you could check out the camp, get a sense of where things are, then come back and tell us. And then maybe we can rush the guards outside, grab their guns, and make a fight of it.”

  She nodded, a bit dubious, but was encouraged to be thinking of something other than doing nothing. She nodded, then pushed herself up to a crouching position. “I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready to get out of this damn wagon.”

  He nodded. “Let’s go for it, then.”

  She maneuvered around him and shoved her legs into the space he had created between the wagon wall and the canvas, and then slid her body partway down the side of the wagon. She held herself in place with her weary arms and turned to face him. “So I’ll sneak around the camp, see what I can see, then I’ll come back.”

  "Think you can get around the camp unseen?"

  She nodded. "I'm good at not being seen. How long should I check out the camp before coming back?"