Parno's Destiny: The Black Sheep of Soulan: Book Two

by N. C. Reed

  *****

  Aaron Bell had grown up in the flatlands of the West and was familiar with not only the area but the people. He assumed it was one of the reasons that Mister Parsons had given him this assignment. He admitted that there were worse jobs than escorting two wagons full of gorgeous women around, but he missed his place in the Regiment.

  Still, orders were orders.

  He rode easily into the small town that was just two miles from the main camp of Soulan Army Field Headquarters. As he had expected, much of the town was empty at the moment as civilians who could flee had done so. He didn't blame them. War was no place for those who couldn't fight. He'd learned that first hand.

  He rode through slowly, eyeing the empty buildings. A few had signs left by owners while others showed slight signs of vandalism, also not unexpected. With things the way they were, people would be scavenging left and right to make ends meet. There would be little game left in the area and no row crops had yet had time to come to bloom. And the army would take priority in stores of food that were available.

  He had been to Tate before, but it had been some time ago. Things were pretty much the same if a bit rundown, but again that wasn't a surprise. As he neared the edge of the town proper he smiled slightly, seeing what he'd wanted.

  Perhaps two hundred paces from the town's edge sat a large house that had at one time been a tavern and inn. He had assumed it would still be open for business and had been thinking how he could approach the owner. From the look of things that might not be necessary.

  The window shutters were closed up tight and there was no smoke from the chimney. He saw only one horse before the inn, though the barn nearby might have more. He spurred his horse slightly and made his way down the lane to the still place. A tall, wide shouldered man stepped out onto the porch as Bell rode up, shaking his head.

  “Nothing for you here, youngster,” the man said flatly, though not unkind. “We got nothin' left.”

  “Kinda figured,” Bell nodded sagely. “You the owner?”

  “Lock and barrel,” the man nodded. “No stock left to speak of though. Ezekiel Watts,” he offered his hand. Bell took it.

  “Aaron Bell. So what you aim to do, Mister Watts?” he asked, looking around at the building. Yes, this would do nicely.

  “Don't know what I can do young fella,” Watts shrugged. “Can't get any supply with the Army on top of us. Don't begrudge 'em it mind, fightin' the heathen and all, but still puts a crimp in my wallet. Figure to close 'er up for now and head south, see what I can get into. Maybe I can come back happens this ends well.”

  “Be interested in leasin' the place out?” Aaron asked. “Got a venture o' my own, but need a place to habitate and operate as my old man used ta say.” Bell leaned on his saddle pommel easily. Open, friendly, non-threatening.

  “What kind o' operation?” Watts asked.

  “Gonna open a bar and maybe a. . .place o' comfort let’s call it,” Bell grinned broadly. “Maybe serve food and what not. Boss man makes things, does repair work so we'd need a place for him to store his what-nots,” he nodded to the barn and the shed behind. “This place would work out pretty well from the look of it.”

  “Where you aim to get the where-withal to do all this grand schemin' o' yours, youngster?” Watts asked suspiciously.

  “Boss has got his ways,” Bell shrugged. “Happens you're interested in sellin' he might open to buyin' the place outright, too,” Bell added.

  “Ain't thought on sellin' the place,” Watts shook his head at once.

  “Well, we could use someone to run the place maybe,” Bell set the hook carefully so as not to spook his fish. “See the boss man he's got all kinds of work to see to. Runnin' a place like this might. . .might interfere, let’s say, in his business interests.” Bell was laying it on thick, attempting to convince the owner that he was trying to act important to his 'boss', to the point of not quite speaking out of turn. Bell's youth made that a bit easier.

  “I might be amenable to such an agreement,” Watts said finally, attempting to speak more formally than he normally did. “Don't know that I would cotton to workin' for someone else, but. . .I can't make a go of the place as it is. If he can and is willin' to compensate me properly then. . .I'll listen to what he might have to say.”

  “That's neighborly of ya,” Bell smiled broadly as if he'd just done the man a large favor. “I should be back with him well 'fore sundown. You be here, mind,” he added.

  “Be waiting right here,” Watts nodded and took a seat on the porch.

  Bell managed not to smile to himself in satisfaction until he was well away. Mister Tinker ought to be right well pleased.

  *****

  The camp manager gave Tinker little more than a cursory glance as he looked at his authorization to do business around the camp area, issued him the necessary paperwork and passes and then sent him on his way.

  As he made his way back to the caravan the Tinker allowed his eyes to flow over the area, taking in things others might ignore. A place like this would attract all kinds of men and women. No one would bother the soldiers and risk the ire of the army, but other civilians would be considered fair game to any predator.

  Tinker was not overly impressed with security, but he admitted there was little need of it this far behind the lines, at least not from the Nor as a rule. Any attack strong enough to reach here would not be stopped by a stronger provost. Still, there was a certain lawless air about the area that he found both slightly disturbing yet also full of potential.

  Part of his 'cover' would depend upon the impression that he was somehow 'connected' enough to have the goods he'd secured with the Prince's authority, yet that connection to the Prince had to remain hidden to maintain that illusion of lawlessness. It was a fine line to walk, but Tinker had been walking such lines all of his life.

  A smiling Bell was waiting for him as Tinker returned to the wagons. A glance to Rosala was rewarded with an 'all is well' nod and Tinker turned his attention to Bell.

  “You look very pleased with yourself, Mister Bell,” the Tinker noted.

  “Found us a place, maybe,” Bell nodded, going on to describe the situation. Tinker nodded thoughtfully.

  “An established business,” he considered. “The man might make an excellent manager for the front operations.”

  “That was my thinkin', though I admit that I made the offer just to keep him from turnin' me down outright. I figure your persuasion 'll be better'n mine.”

  “We shall see,” Tinker shrugged casually. “We will move,” he raised his voice slightly as he called to Rosa. “We may have a place.”

  “Very fast,” she observed as she slapped the side of the ambulance with her fist. An answering knock assured her that all were accounted for.

  Without further orders the Tinker set out alongside Bell, the wagons following.

  *****

  “Reckon I ain't a flesh peddler,” Watts said quietly as Tinker completed his pitch.

  “Nor will you be asked to be,” Tinker assured him. “The woman will manage things,” he nodded to Rosa. “Her women do not cater to just anyone, Mister Watts. Their clientele will be discriminating as well as discreet. The rear stairs will be useful for that and all such business will come through the back. We will also serve alcohol and food. I need a strong hand for the front, and you are already known to those in the area. I want no trouble in the business. You are no doubt strong and accustomed to dealing with difficulty. I would have you continue to do so. And I believe I can make you a lucrative offer.” He named a figure and suppressed a smile as Watts struggled to keep surprise off his own face.

  “I can work for that,” he nodded. “I live here, though,” he added. “Got a room out back. Reckon I'll keep it,” he didn't quite challenge.

  “That would be desirable,” Tinker agreed. “Are there other accommodations on the premise?”

  There were. A small servant quarters out back and two rooms over the stable. Nothing fancy, but c
lean and usable. The main building had a kitchen, large serving hall, three rooms downstairs other than the owner's and eight more upstairs. Two stairways, one front and one back and, most impressive, an indoor bathing room complete with two tubs, a pump for the water and a tank of water heated with wood. Ideal.

  The deal was struck and suddenly the women were descending upon the place, Rosa barking orders as the house was set in order. By nightfall they would be well along. By the next night they would be open for business.

  Tinker was pleased. The first part of his operation was under way. Rosa would oversee that, having done so before. The brothers, Raymond and Ramone would be their security and assist with the kitchen and stables. A third man, Alphonse, would assist with the kitchen and be 'available' to everyone else if he was needed. Two of the eleven women would operate the kitchen, two others were serving girls and one more would alternate between the two.

  The others would be entertaining selected officers of the Army. Rosa and the others would occupy the rooms on the upper floor, their clients using the rear stairs to gain entrance to their boudoirs. Gaining such access to Rosa's girls would be difficult and costly. Only the very distinguishing of gentlemen would be able to approach her about it. Just the sort of man who would be in Therron McLeod's nest of vipers.

  And Rosa's girls could make a man talk about many things he might otherwise never mention.

  With this part of his operation now safely underway, Tinker turned his attention to other matters.

  *****

  Brenack Wysin was unhappy being separated from the Black Sheep and his Prince, but as with Aaron Bell, orders were orders. He arrived in camp followed by three apprentices, each driving a wagon similar to his own that contained tools and materials for their trade, including a small forge. A fourth wagon driven by a man wounded at the Gap carried coal. While he would not use the coal often, he knew getting coal in this part of the country would be difficult. The soldier was a man well enough to be working, but not yet able to stand the rigors of being in the field. Having an assignment after weeks of convalescent leave had been a welcome relief to the man.

  “Mister Wysin!” the smith heard and looked around him, finally spotting a waving Aaron Bell who was riding toward him.

  “Youngster,” Wysin nodded. “Have we a place to work yet?” he asked, straight to business. He was tired, having pushed long into the night more than once in order to arrive as soon as possible. His orders from the Prince were to assist the Tinker while plying his trade for those among the army who could afford to buy custom made equipment.

  “That we do, sir,” Bell nodded. “Place that was already in operation, in fact. The Hogshead Inn. Mister Tinker sent me to lead ya'll into place. Through town and just beyond. Ladies already got it all fixed up.”

  Wysin snorted at that, wondering how Tinker managed to maintain his sanity around so many women under one roof.

  “They ready for us?” he asked, his thick brogue and accent cutting like a knife.

  “That they are,” Bell promised. “Got a stable for patrons, of which there won't be so many, quarters out back and I managed to lay in a store o' wood two days ago that should make pretty good charcoal. Owner stayed on to run the front, a tavern with a kitchen. Miss Rosa will be runnin' the. . .other,” Bell finished.

  “Well done, lad,” Wysin smiled tiredly. “Lead us on, then. These old bones are in sore need of rest. We have pushed hard to be here so quick.”

  “Your quarters is already made up and they got hot baths in the inn,” Bell promised. “Have to help set up the brewers tomorrow though,” he warned.

  “We can do that,” Wysin promised. “I hear tell the Tinker's harem is a fair pretty picture, lad,” Brenack needled slightly and Bell blushed every so lightly.

  “Reckon they're pretty, all right,” he nodded, trying to affect a maturity beyond his years in such matters. For all of his innate and learned abilities, he was still a very young man in some things and Rosa's niece Briel, one of the serving girls, had caught his eye right away. Slight of build and dark of complexion, the girl was a thing of beauty so far as he was concerned.

  She might or might not be returning his admiration. He hadn't quite worked that out yet.

  “Well, let's get moving then,” Wysin was too tired to kid over much.

  “Follow me.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  -

  Parno sat across from Evelyn McKenzie at lunch the following day. She gave Raines a full and concise report of what had been happening in her area of responsibility while Parno listened without comment.

  She was Raines' age, Parno guessed, but no more. She was strongly built, the kind of woman who would indeed thrive on a ranch and birth healthy children. Her brown hair was cut short, no doubt for utility as she worked her own fields and livestock. Her skin was sun-kissed but not weathered, which Parno credited to the wide brimmed hat she had worn to the meeting and the gloves that sat on the table in front of her.

  She'd been accompanied by a gangling teen son who was just now growing into his height and a dark haired beauty of a daughter who was a carbon copy of her mother, short hair and all. Her dark hair made Parno think of Stephanie and he instantly forced the thought away. He could not afford the distraction and she was deserving of better than him at any rate.

  “Mrs. McKenzie, I failed to introduce our guest,” Rained said as she finished her report. “He wanted to hear your report first hand without influencing you. This,” he motioned to Parno, “is Marshal Parno McLeod. Marshal, Mrs. Evelyn McKenzie of DeSoto.”

  “Ma'am,” Parno nodded politely. The daughter had shown little interest in Parno until the announcement but she sat up straighter now. Parno fought the urge to laugh.

  “Milord,” Evelyn nodded her head.

  “Very impressive what you've done, ma'am,” Parno told her. “And I appreciate your efforts.”

  “It isn't much effort,” Evelyn shrugged gracefully. “In truth, we'd be watching the river anyway, milord. For raids, for the water to rise, for trespassers. Idiots come in swarms I'm afraid, and many of them try to steal by river. Most of them drown,” she added with a slight smile.

  “I've seen the eddies,” Parno nodded. “Much different from the Tinsee or Cumberland. Harsher, I should think.”

  “It can be very harsh,” Evelyn replied. “We're seen no real activity other than glimpses of their patrols passing along the far shore. Heathen Wildfolk for the most part, but we've seen the Nor a time or two as well in regimental or battalion strength it appeared.”

  “Are they taking notice of our shore or just making a patrol you think?” Parno asked. This woman was obviously intelligent. He wanted her opinion.

  “For my money, they're going through the motions,” she replied steadily. “Even the Wildfolk respect the river, milord. We've seen no sign of attempted crossings, nor even any interest in such. Of course they may just be doing it out of sight, but we do try to keep a steady look out. The men General Raines assigned to the post are constantly on the move.”

  “Have you any idea how far south their patrols go, ma'am?” Parno asked, leaning forward.

  “Usually gone by no more than two days before we seem them return,” Evelyn responded. “We can only assume of course, but I'm of the opinion that they go a day's ride south, camp one day, then return. I think they are doing the same thing we are, essentially, just doing it in force rather than using the outposts like we are.”

  Very intelligent, Parno thought to himself.

  “Have they broken their pattern at all?” Parno asked.

  “Every so often, maybe one patrol out of three, are gone another day,” she nodded. “No idea what they're doing. Perhaps they merely ride further south, but that would be conjecture. We've no way of knowing. Other outposts may pick them up,” she added, looking at Raines.

  “They do,” he supplied. “The post to Mrs. McKenzie's immediate south sees patrol activity about once per week on average.”

  “Th
at would be about right,” she agreed.

  “I'm given to understand that we owe you for more than just the look out, Mrs. McKenzie,” Parno changed the subject. “I ate a splendid meal yesterday after far too long in the saddle. Fresh food from your farm.”

  “We supply what we can,” Evelyn nodded. “Glad to do it.”

  “We have some horses that have been ill used by their former owners,” Parno told her. “We've checked them and save for general mistreatment and a bit of undernourishment they are healthy enough. If you can use a dozen or so trained mounts, I'd be glad to let them go back with you. We can provide a wrangler to assist you in getting them home.”

  “If they're able to sit a rider and work then yes, milord, horses are always welcome,” McKenzie nodded, her eyes showing a slight surprise. “I wouldn't think you had horses to spare.”

  “Normally we wouldn't, but as I said, these horses were taken from a group of rabble militia who thought they were just playing soldier. Some are still receiving care and we think most will be able to serve in some capacity once rehabilitated, but the dozen I offer you are well enough. A week, perhaps two, of good feed and grooming to settle them and I think they'll serve you well. Little enough we can do for all you're doing.”

  “I thank you, milord,” Evelyn bowed her head slightly.

  “And speaking of food, I think it's about time for lunch,” Raines announced. “With your permission, sir?” he asked Parno.

  “By all means,” Parno nodded, grinning. “I'll never say no to a good meal.”

  *****

  Evelyn had heard of Parno McLeod and her daughter's interest in the Prince didn't go unnoticed. She was careful to keep the daughter at arm's length from the Prince and Parno had to stifle a laugh when he realized it. Wouldn't do to offend the woman.

  She was remarkably intelligent. He was all but certain she had been to a university somewhere but it would be improper to ask so he didn't. He did enjoy her company for the noon meal then had a man guide her to her new horses.

  “Remarkable lady,” Parno remarked as McKenzie and her group moved away.