Teleporter

by Laurence E. Dahners

  “Yeah, well that’s not the way most people saw it.” Jacob’s eyes shifted around, not looking at Tarc. “Besides, Marie Jarvis hates your guts. She says when she found her husband Eben’s head in that damned cart of yours, that you and a couple of those soldiers ripped open her dress and threatened to rape her!”

  “I… I…” Tarc’s mind gibbered, “didn’t…” His voice trailed off as his throat closed. For a moment he was afraid he would be completely unable to speak, but then he croaked out, “I, tried to, to stop them.” He knew that no one would believe that he actually had stopped them.

  “That’s not the way she remembers it.” Jacob shifted and stood up from where he’d had the cheeks of his butt parked on the back of the chair. “I’ve got to get back to work, but I hope you’ll understand we don’t really want you around here unless you can prove things really were different from the way everyone else remembers them.” He walked to another door, “It’d be nice if you’d go out this back way. I owe my life to your mother, so we’re not spreading any of the rumors, but we don’t want everyone in town hating us too.”

  As Tarc made his way back across town to their tavern, the stares, whispers, and averted looks seemed much more ominous. At one point he realized that he felt horribly guilty. This is crazy, he thought to himself, I not only didn’t do anything blameworthy, I helped kill Krait and drive his men away! Nonetheless, the looks he received from the people who recognized him made him want to crawl under something and hide.

  ***

  Back at the tavern, he found his family gathered at the table they’d been eating their meals at. Daum looked like he’d been chiseled out of granite. Eva and Daussie’s eyes were red from crying. Tarc slumped onto a bench and looked around at his family. “Bad, huh?”

  Daussie looked up. Rather than the beaten and humiliated look Tarc had been expecting to see on her face, she looked furious. “Alice wouldn’t even talk to me,” she hissed. “That bitch!”

  Eva said, “People are saying just what you predicted at breakfast. With the added bonus of claiming that you attacked Ms. Jarvis.”

  Tarc croaked out a whisper, “That’s what Jacob told me too.”

  Eva said, “We’re going to have to move.”

  Daum said, “That’ll be just the same as admitting our guilt to most of these bastards.”

  “I know,” Eva said despondently, “but we’ve already been tried and convicted in the court of public opinion. We’ll never get our reputation back.”

  “I hate this town anyway,” Daussie said witheringly.

  Despondently, Daum looked up and around. He muttered, “We won’t be able to sell the tavern for what it’s worth.”

  ***

  Arvil Tornesson turned to look at his wife. “They’re saying what?”

  “That the people that run the Hyllis tavern were collaborators. They’re saying they put up Krait’s men the night of the takeover and fed them at their tavern afterwards.”

  Arvil stared at her wide-eyed. “Addie, Daum Hyllis shot Krait from our very own window!”

  “I know, I know. I told Edith that, but she just said that no one could make that shot from all the way over at our house.”

  “Where the hell does she think the arrow came from then?”

  “She thinks one of Krait’s own men shot him.” Addie put her hands up as if defending herself from Arvil’s response. “I know. It’s stupid. Somebody would have seen him do it! But… it’s gossip. Bad gossip spreads—and the truth can’t keep up.”

  “Well, that’s just so much bullshit!” Arvil exploded. “You tell those biddies you hang out with that Daum Hyllis is a hero!”

  “I tried Arvil, I tried…”

  ***

  Asher Farley looked up as Martin Weldon was ushered into his office. He stood to shake the man’s hand. Once that was done Weldon rubbed his bald pate and stared around the office at Farley’s accumulated bric-a-brac. His watery eyes turned to Farley, “You wanted to see me Mr. Farley?”

  “Yes Martin, I did. How would you like to run another tavern?”

  Weldon frowned, “Another tavern? I’m not sure there’s business enough for another tavern in this town.”

  Asher leaned back in his chair, “Ah, but Martin, I’m not talking about another tavern for the town, I’m talking about another tavern for you. I have it on good authority that a certain set of tavern owners are soon going to be leaving town.”

  “The Hyllises,” Weldon breathed.

  “The very same.”

  “I’ve heard that they’ve got a very nice tavern. With a few rooms to let as well.” He paused wistfully, “But I couldn’t afford to buy it.”

  Asher arched an eyebrow, “I think the price is going to be very good.” He winked, “In any case, I’m going to buy it. You and I would be partners. You’d run it and pay me rent. Anything it earned, over and above the rent, would be pure profit for you.”

  ***

  No customers had come in for a beer that afternoon either. The Hyllises hadn’t really expected any, but the lack was a sick confirmation of the situation. However, late that afternoon the door that opened into their little courtyard behind the tavern opened and people started trooping in. At first, Tarc thought that somehow their reputation had been salvaged. But, after the first few had entered, he recognized that it was the Norton caravan. The Nortons were a group of merchants who traveled from town to town in big wheeled wagons. Out on the road, they camped, but when they were in towns they liked to stay in an inn or tavern where they could get a bath and relax. The Nortons wouldn’t have known of the odeur the Hyllises were currently held in.

  Norton himself, a big man with a jovial attitude, smiled and spread his arms wide at Daum. “I see you finally prepared yourself for our arrival!” He turned back over his shoulder to one of his fellow travelers, “Usually this place is packed and we have to wait and wait to be seated, though it’s worth it to get some of Eva Hyllis’ fine food.” Turning back to Daum, he said, “I assume we can just sit wherever we want?”

  Daum nodded while turning towards the bar, “You’d like a beer, I’m sure?”

  “Oh yes! Traveling is a hard job that parches a man.” He winked, “Especially when a man hasn’t had a sip all afternoon ‘cause he’s looking forward to one of your fine brews!” He turned to the man behind him, “This is one of our favorite stops on the road, because they have a big water heater built in above the fireplace there. They have a room with a couple of big tubs out back. There’s not many things quite so relaxing as soaking in one of those big tubs full of hot water on a cool evening.”

  Of all the travelers that came through, Norton and some of the members of his caravan were the most likely to pony up for a bath, or even just a good long soak. Tarc went in the kitchen and helped Eva poke up the fire in the stove. There passed a mad flurry of activity while he, Daussie, and Eva chopped potatoes, cabbage and apples that hadn’t been prepped since they hadn’t been expecting any customers. Daum served beer to a roomful of caravaners, assigning some of them rooms and negotiating prices for those who wanted to camp in the little courtyard.

  Norton was quite pleased to learn that virtually everyone in his caravan could stay at the Hyllis tavern. Usually the tavern was busy enough that some of the caravan had to stay somewhere else.

  Soon Daussie was taking orders and Tarc was bringing in more firewood. After a few days in the doldrums there was something reassuring about the hard work.

  When he was out in the big room, Tarc frequently found his eyes sliding to a cinnamon skinned young girl sitting at one of the tables. She looked to be a year or two older than Tarc and nearly as tall. Wearing leather and carrying a sword, she looked extremely fit and self-confident. He wondered if she could actually be working as a guard for the caravan. She was sitting at a table with strong, tough-looking men who certainly looked like guards themselves.

  ***

  When things had wound down a little, Tarc went to ask his father if he needed a
nything behind the bar. Norton and Daum appeared to be having a serious conversation so Tarc stood quietly waiting to be noticed, occasionally glancing at the dark-haired girl.

  Norton said, “That’s terrible! So you’re being ostracized just because these mercenaries chose your tavern as their base of operations?”

  Daum nodded bitterly, “The sons of bitches took the tavern’s wagon down to pick up bodies after they massacred some of the townsmen in the square. The people in town recognize our wagon, so they thought we were involved in that too. Hell, we were in the square along with everyone else, worrying that we were going to be killed just like they were!”

  Norton shook his head, a dismayed look on his face. “What are you going to do?”

  Daum sighed, “We don’t know. We think we’re going to have to move.” He looked up at Norton and lifted an eyebrow, “Maybe we should join a caravan?”

  Norton straightened and drew his head back, an interested look on his face. “That would be great. We’d love to have someone with Eva’s cooking skills in our caravan, to say nothing of how much we need a healer.” He frowned, “But you know, it’s a little dangerous out there on the road. Are you sure you want your youngsters out in that environment?” Norton glanced over at Tarc, who’d been standing silently taking this all in.

  Daum suddenly looked over and recognized that Tarc had quietly been standing there as well. He frowned, “Well, I suppose you heard all that. What do you think?”

  Tarc shrugged, “I don’t want to stay here. Not the way people have been looking at me. If we move, we’re going have to get to the new place somehow, so we’ll have to join a caravan anyway, won’t we?”

  Daum scratched at an ear, “That’s true, but if we tried to leave with the Nortons, we’d be leaving so soon we couldn’t possibly negotiate a good deal for the tavern.” He glanced upward for a moment, thinking. “And we’d need to get a wagon built. Even one of their big wagons won’t take all the stuff we’d like to take with us.” He turned back to Norton, “I expect you’ll be leaving in just a few days, right? Because we couldn’t possibly be ready in that short a time.”

  Norton tugged at his lip, “We usually stay four or five days, depending on how good the business is. You couldn’t get a wagon built in that time. Is there someone in town who might have a wagon to sell?”

  Daum shook his head, looking a little despondent. “And I don’t think we’ll want to stay here until you come around again, Norton. Much as I’d love for us to travel with you, it doesn’t look like it’s in the stars. We’ll probably have to go with the next caravan to come through instead.”

  Norton grinned and said, “Well then, how about some business for those tubs of yours? If you’re going to survive until the next caravan comes through, I’d better help you earn some more money.” He glanced at Tarc, “You up to hauling some water young Hyllis?”

  As Tarc hauled bucket after bucket of water to the tubs, more buckets to the heating tank in the chimney above the fireplace and more wood to the fireplace, he thought to himself how much he used to hate it when people wanted to use the tubs. Now he was glad that it was going to bring in some more money. He had a feeling his family was going to need the cash in the near future.

  ***

  The next morning, Daussie woke Tarc a little earlier than usual. The caravan’s merchants wanted breakfast early so they could set up their stalls. Soon Tarc was hauling wood and water and helping in the kitchen. He checked the big room frequently, hoping for a glimpse of the cinnamon skinned young woman. After all his watching for her inside, he was surprised when he entered the stable and found her out there caring for a horse.

  “Hello,” she smiled, showing even white teeth, “does the fee for stabling a horse include some of the oats?”

  “Oh,” Tarc said, a little startled to have her talking to him after he’d been mooning over her. “Yes, yes it does. Let me get you some.” He headed towards the back, calling back over his shoulder, “Are you working as a guard for the Nortons?”

  “Yeah,” she laughed in amusement. “Are you one of those guys who doesn’t think a woman could be a fighter?”

  Tarc blinked as he scooped up some oats, realizing that he had sounded a little incredulous when he’d asked her his question. “Um, no. Well, maybe. I’ve never met a girl caravan guard before. Sorry if I offended you,” he said carrying the oats back out to her horse and setting the bucket down in front of it.

  She arched an eyebrow and pulled out a pair of wooden practice swords, “You want to try me?”

  His eyes widened, “Oh, no! I haven’t had much training with the sword!” And, I sucked at it, he thought.

  “Oh, come on,” she winked at him, “I’m just a girl.” She held out one of the practice swords, hilt first.

  Tarc reluctantly took it and slowly followed her as she walked out into the middle of the open space in the stable. He had started to lift his sword into the guard position, when hers shot out faster than he could believe. It hammered into the back of his, just above the hilt. His sword flew out of his hand and the point of hers shot up under his arm to rest against his ribs.

  “Um, you’re really fast,” he said flexing his stinging fingers.

  She grinned at him, “And that’s why they let a girl guard the caravan.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to let me take the guard position?” He said, feeling like she’d kind of cheated, even though he knew in his heart he couldn’t have stopped her no matter how prepared he’d been.

  She turned and walked over to pick up the stray practice sword. “In a real fight, nobody waits for you to get ‘on guard.’”

  Tarc admired her confident stride, thinking that a woman like that should be frightening. However, he found her even more attractive.

  A laugh barked out behind him, “Lizeth, are you picking on the yokels again?”

  She’d bent over to pick up the sword, giving Tarc something else to admire. When she stood back up, she sent her brilliant smile of fine white teeth at the man behind Tarc. “Why of course not, Arco. The yokel wanted to know why the Nortons had a girl guarding them. I simply felt compelled to show him why.”

  Arco laughed again and clapped Tarc on the shoulder. “I’d stay away from that one if I were you, youngster. She’s not only ungodly fast with that pig sticker of hers, but she’ll be happy to flay you with that sharp tongue of hers as well.” The man turned back to Lizeth, “You ready for some real practice now?”

  Tarc found himself blushing as Arco stepped out in front of him, justifiably assuming that Tarc could not provide Lizeth a significant challenge. Even though Tarc wasn’t a guard or a sword fighter, he felt embarrassed to have been dismissed so readily. He didn’t like being called a yokel either.

  While the two guards practiced, Tarc did a few of his chores out in the stable and watched them out of the corner of his eye. To his surprise, although Arco was bigger and obviously more powerful than Lizeth, she slipped around his guard and placed the point of her sword against his vitals over and over. Arco swore good-naturedly about it, but it became apparent to Tarc that Lizeth was much deadlier than the big man.

  Not that Arco was slow. Tarc thought he could have defeated any of the Walterston militia that Tarc had ever watched battling it out in practice. It was just that Lizeth was so fast. Each time she did it, Tarc hardly had a notion of how she’d gotten from where she’d been, to where she was, with the point of her sword resting on Arco’s neck or ribs. Realizing he’d dawdled long enough in the stable, he headed back in to the tavern itself.

  ***

  As Tarc came out of the kitchen into the big room, he saw that most of the merchants from the caravan must have headed to the trading area already. The big door at the front of the tavern swung open just then and Tarc’s heart skipped a beat at the thought that perhaps they had some customers from town. He recognized the man that entered as Asher Farley, one of the wealthiest merchants in town. A couple of big, tough-looking men entered behind him.
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  Farley’s eyes swept the room, noting three remaining caravaners sitting at one of the tables. Then Farley and his men turned to the bar where Daum was washing some cups. He walked that way.

  Wondering what was going on, Tarc made his way over to the bar as well, trying to think of some chore he could do there while surreptitiously listening.

  “Well, Hyllis, things are looking a little rough around here for you and yours.”

  Daum’s eyes narrowed as he stood from the sink. Tarc saw him take in the two big men behind Farley and a muscle bunched in his jaw. Daum dispensed with any pleasantries and said, “What do you want Farley?”

  “Well Mr. Hyllis, I’ve been appointed as acting Sheriff and these,” he hooked a thumb back over his shoulder at the two large men behind him, though he didn’t introduce them, “are two of my deputies. As such, I’m trying to head off trouble between the townsfolk, and people like you who collaborated with the invaders. I don’t want there to be any more killin’.”

  Daum’s eyes flashed with fire and he said vehemently, “We did not collaborate with that bastard! Krait and his men forced their way into our tavern and demanded that we feed them. When we ran out of meat, they took meat from Stevenson’s butchery. You ask Arvil Tornesson, I’m the one that shot Krait. I did it from Tornesson’s upstairs window.”

  Farley stared at Daum for a moment, then grinned like Daum had just said something very funny, “Sure you did Hyllis.” He raised an eyebrow, “From almost all the way across the square there at Tornesson’s house?” He barked a laugh, “I know you’re a good shot Hyllis, but no one’s going to believe that one! Besides, several people saw one of Krait’s own men shoot him, so no one’s going to fall for that story!” He shook his head, “No, the townspeople know you Hyllises for what you are and I think things are going to get ugly pretty soon. So far, they’re just refusing to do business with you, but trust me it can and will get a lot worse after what your friends did to this town.”