Free Trader Box Set - Books 4-6: Battle for the Amazon, Free the North!, Free Trader on the High Seas

by Craig Martelle

  ‘We’ll stay with the wagon, but we’ll be ready if you need us,’ the King of the Aurochs told them.

  The trail led past small farms and fields. One had livestock and a large field of green grass. Braden asked Arnie to stop by the small home. A man, walking in from the pasture, stopped and looked at them, uncertain of what he was seeing. Braden waved and jumped down, walking boldly to the rancher.

  “Greetings, good sir! I am Free Trader Braden and I would like to trade for access to your field for my two good friends here, Arnie and Brandt, and temporary storage for our wagon.”

  “What are they?” the rancher finally asked after squinting to see everything better and looking them over carefully.

  “They are Aurochs, distant cousins of the water buffalo. But these two are intelligent, smarter than you or me. I am willing to pay two pieces of gold for them to have access to the field, but they need to be able to leave whenever they want. They can’t be fenced it.”

  “Two gold? You have gold?” the rancher wondered. Braden shook his head before producing two gold pieces from his pouch.

  “A steep price to be sure, but these are uncertain times, are they not?” Braden held out his hand. They shook and Braden turned the gold over to the rancher.

  “Makes no difference to me. Those provincial types will show up and take the gold from me anyway and probably your friends, too.”

  “I think not, Master Rancher. When the sun sets, you will be living in a new world, much like the old world where you set your price and trade appropriately. I say, welcome back to the way things should be.”

  The rancher narrowed his eyes at them, looking from face to face. “As I said, makes no difference to me…” He drifted away and went back into the small building he called his home.

  Brandt and Arnie headed into the field, not feeling hungry. They watched the companions get ready for the coming battle. Braden and Micah prepared their bows, made sure their quivers had their remaining arrows, checked their blasters, just in case, and loosened their swords in the scabbards. They waved to the Aurochs, who dipped their horns in reply.

  Braden stepped away smartly. He wanted this to be over with. Skirill and Zyena continued to scout the path in front of them. The group walked past small farms and houses outside the city, noting how the quality of the buildings changed the closer they got to Jefferson City. With more modern structures came a decrease in the amount of space people had.

  Surprised citizens watched as they passed. No one looked happy. No one cheered. No one asked questions. Many ran back inside, away from those who would flaunt the law against people carrying weapons.

  A hastily formed group of soldiers raced toward them along the street ahead. They stopped, stood at attention, then lowered spears with shiny metal points. One man, armed with a sword, stood to the side and yelled at the companions to stop. Braden figured they were close enough, so they spread out. Bounder stood next to Micah with his lightning spear ready, although he would only use it as a last resort. Gray Strider stood next to Braden, protecting him. The Rabbits stood with their laser pistols out, Nerise positioned tightly between them. G-War was nowhere to be seen, which Braden expected and counted on.

  “You will surrender to proper authority!” the man yelled. Braden nodded to Micah and they both nocked arrows. “Your weapons are illegal here,” the man resorted to a useless statement with a made-up law that Braden and the companions refused to recognize.

  ‘You take the big mouth and I’ll take one of the spearmen. Maybe we can convince the others to put their weapons down,’ Braden told Micah over the mindlink. ‘Be ready. If they charge, we’ll need to break it before they get too close. Don’t start a fire, please.’ Braden smiled at his good manners as the first shots of the final battle were about to be fired.

  Micah loosed her arrow unerringly into the chest of the sword-bearing leader. Braden’s hit at nearly the same time, taking out a spearman in the middle of the line. They both re-nocked and fired a second arrow before anyone moved. Their targets were in the middle of the left and right ranks of those holding spears. They picked the men who would be seen by most of their fellows. Too many men found the nerve to start running toward the companions. Braden and Micah dropped the first two and the others hesitated. They killed the next two and nocked new arrows.

  Bullies, Braden thought to himself. No stomach for a real fight. Their spirit broken, they sought to run, but Braden shot the one who was in front of the growing retreat. “STOP!” he commanded in his best Free Trader voice.

  The companions ran forward, hoping to disarm the men. Braden didn’t want to have to fight anyone twice. One man turned and looked with disdain at Gray Strider. He leveled his spear and advanced. Bounder was incensed and raced in front of his mate to take on the smaller human. He parried the man’s spear in a motion too quick to follow and drove the point of his lightning weapon so far through the man he had difficulty removing it. Gray Strider covered her mate while he held the dead man down with a back paw and yanked his spear free.

  The others gave up after Zeller made a show of cutting a spear in half with an angry slash of her sword. The rest threw their spears to the ground.

  “So what do we do with the six of you?” Braden asked the men as he approached them. Micah checked with Skirill and Zyena. No one else approached, but the men who’d been south of the city were starting to stream back toward it.

  “We’d better hurry,” she said.

  “I don’t want any lip or garbage from any of you. Take off all your clothes and run that way.” Micah looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Okay! Keep your shorts on. Now hurry up!” He prodded one with his bow. They stripped and started jogging. Gray Strider caught up to them quickly and swinging her spear like club, she smacked two of the men across the back of their legs. This added greatly to their momentum and the men ran from the city in a headlong panic. She chuckled to herself while Bounder shook his shaggy head.

  Zyena urged haste. The armed men were starting to fill the street as they consolidated their force, heading toward the largest building in town. With Skirill’s help, Braden and the others were guided through the streets as they ran, trying to get in front of the approaching army.

  “Stone buildings!” Braden shouted as they ran.

  “What?” Micah yelled back. She was less winded than Braden.

  “We can use our blasters, but we need to get there first!” He started to sprint, gulping in as much air as he could between steps. Their Old Tech boots seem to be little help in letting them keep pace with the fired-up Wolfoids. The Rabbits and Nerise had fallen behind, but Braden wasn’t worried, knowing that they could catch up and that there weren’t any enemies following them. Not at the moment anyway.

  Braden, Micah, and the Wolfoids broke into an open area facing the wide road that led south. They pulled their blasters as the first of the armed men appeared. They both dialed a narrow beam. Bounder and Gray Strider crouched as they held their spears ready to fire into the approaching group. Four ranks across and countless deep, the men approached. Braden had heard of how a militia drilled and fought, but he’d never seen it until that moment. He saw how the discipline could strike fear into a disorganized enemy.

  That wasn’t what Braden and his companions were. Being bunched up was the worst thing this group could have done. A man carrying his sword walked to the side of the formation and started barking orders.

  ‘Gray Strider, he’s on your side. You take him and we’ll deal with the rest.’ Instantly, a lightning bolt leapt from the end of her spear, striking the man fully in his chest. The blasters opened up, followed by Bounder’s lightning. The first ranks of the men were decimated. Dead men littered the road from one side to the other, the stench of their burning flesh making their eyes water. Small black clouds billowed into the air from the impromptu funeral pyres.

  Braden, Micah, Bounder, and Gray Strider fired another volley into the surviving ranks. The destruction was horrible to witness. Zyena
showed them her view as the men in the back broke and ran for their lives. More and more joined them until only the dead remained. Skirill watched the approaches to the open area for his friends, making sure that no one came in behind them. The streets were unsurprisingly empty as the two forces battled for supremacy.

  In the end, Braden and his companions were the last ones standing. He hated killing all those men, but as he’d rationalized with the others they’d killed, these men were fighting for the wrong side.

  Braden looked down to see G-War sitting at his side, patiently waiting. Patrice and Delavigne had been waiting to the side of the clearing until the firing stopped. Now that it was over, they brought Nerise to the others.

  The humans were still breathing hard. Zeller felt the exhilaration of battle, even though she had yet to prove herself in her mind. The Wolfoids seemed at ease, while the Rabbits were upset by the smell. Nerise didn’t seem to mind. She’d carefully watched everything Micah had done, studying.

  “It’s time to end this,” Braden told the others taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. “Shall we?” he asked. They turned from the open area and started walking toward the Governor’s Mansion.

  “Here we come, Governor Anderle, and there’s no one left to protect you,” Braden snarled.

  The Story of Jocelyn

  She stood, looking from the second story window. Jefferson City lay before her, smoke tendrils from the many cook fires drifting skyward. The air smelled stale. A new cloud of dark smoke appeared not far away, but it drifted away quickly.

  She wore her long sleeping gown as she was uninterested in getting dressed. What was the point?

  Her silken hair, the color of crow feathers, so black that it looked blue when the sun shined on it, trailed down her lean figure, ending just above her waist. She combed it absently as she watched from one window of the mansion that her husband, Governor Anderle had claimed as his own when he stormed to power.

  She had known him before that, when he seemed carefree and was wildly romantic. They married quickly, and after their oldest son was born, her husband decided that he wanted something better for his children, so he sought power. Always charismatic, he convinced others to support him. He moved up quickly to lead a village, then a town, and finally the city. He had changed the police force into a military and consolidated most of the north tightly in his iron fist. All the trade went through his hands first. He took what he wanted, then parceled out the rest as if it was his to give.

  She didn’t know him at all now.

  It was too late. Even if she wanted, Jocelyn expected that she couldn’t leave. She hadn’t tried and she wouldn’t. Her children needed her. The two older boys were falling more and more under their father’s influence. The youngest, her daughter, was born in Jocelyn’s image, a beauty to behold. The little girl, Leah, collected animals, loving them unconditionally as they loved her. She and her mother were of pure-heart, so it came natural for them to love easily and be loved.

  It pained Jocelyn to see the direction her boys were headed, but she held out hope that she could remain an influence in their lives.

  Her husband yelled from another room. She couldn’t understand what he said, but expected the servants were running for their lives. No good ever came from a tone such as that.

  The sky paled. It would be another dank day. She probably would stay inside.

  Again.

  A commotion in the street caught her eye. She leaned through the window, not sure of what she was seeing. People were diving out of the way as a man and two women unerringly walked toward her home. They were accompanied by two of the largest dogs she’d ever seen, along with a couple Rabbits, also disproportionately huge, with a small child between them. A large cat appeared to be following them. The rough-looking orange creature lifted its head and looked right at her. For a moment in time, he seemed to be in her head, caressing her mind, telling her that everything would be okay. They’d be there shortly.

  She welcomed the intrusion.

  The Governor

  “What do you mean the army has broken?” Governor Anderle bellowed. He pounded his fists on the arms of the great chair. His boys stood by his side, anxiously fidgeting as their father’s anger shook every corner of the room.

  “But, Governor, I’m only reporting what we’ve seen. The strangers have great weapons from which gouts of flame destroy everything in their path. And the mutant creatures! They also have incredible weapons. We cannot stand before them. You must flee!”

  “NEVER!” he shouted. He waved over a man in uniform, his Sergeant-at-Arms.

  “Governor,” the man said in an even tone as he fingered the well-worn hilt of his sword.

  “It’s up to you and your guard to stop these fanatics. Are you up to it?”

  “Of course, Governor. We’ve trained our whole lives for this,” the man sneered. He half-bowed and strode off, shouting as he left the room where the Governor conducted most of his business.

  “Get our weapons,” he told his oldest son. The boy, about fifteen cycles old, smiled and ran through a back door, returning shortly with a longsword and two shortswords. He handed them out and each hefted their own weapon, checking its edge, getting comfortable with the weight in their hands.

  The Sergeant-at-Arms called his men together. They’d been ready since they heard someone was challenging the Governor’s authority. All they needed was the word to go forth and fight. They didn’t care for who, they only wanted to ply their real trade. These men were former criminals who the Governor had taken under his wing and allowed them to brutally put down designated enemies. They enjoyed what they did, too much, and longed to do more of it. They relished a battle with an experienced enemy.

  The Sergeant-at-Arms led his eight men out the front door, where they positioned themselves in a semi-circle. The Sergeant stood at the door while his men surrounded him, but he was no coward. He would direct the battle until a more personal engagement was called for.

  The companions walked into the square facing the Governor’s Mansion. Seeing the men arrayed before them, they spread out. The companions were outnumbered and worse than that, these men looked to be seasoned fighters. They weren’t the least intimidated by the companions. Micah saw the look in their eyes, it was the same that she had in hers–a person confident in their ability to kill.

  Braden stood in the center, Micah to his left and Zeller to his right. Bounder stood at Zeller’s side and Gray Strider to Micah’s left. G-War crouched next to Braden while Patrice and Delavigne protected the little girl in the back. Skirill perched on a nearby building while Zyena flew top cover, making sure no other enemy approached.

  “There’s no need for any of you to die,” Braden started. The men snickered and cat-called. Egos. Pride. The men were undoubtedly dangerous, but they acted as if Braden and the companions were not.

  Zyena floated toward the east. Arnie and Brandt were on their way and she would guide them. They refused to be left out of the final battle.

  “That’s right. You will all die right where you are if you stand against us,” Braden taunted. He and Micah pulled their bows, and as quick as they could, fired arrows at the men. The warrior in front of the door, clearly the leader, slashed the arrow away with his sword. The other man wasn’t so quick. Micah’s arrow embedded deep into his chest and he collapsed.

  “Inside!” the Sergeant-at-Arms shouted, leading the way and then holding the door for the others. Braden and Micah each got off one more shot before the men disappeared. Two more fell. That fast, the numbers evened out. Six on five.

  “We can’t go through that door,” Micah said. “Skirill?”

  He flew a tight circle around the building and showed them two more entrances. “Split up?” Braden asked, hating the sound of it as he heard it out loud.

  Micah shook her head and Braden breathed a sigh of relief. “Pick one,” he said. She pointed right and they ran for it. The sound of Arnie’s and Brandt’s hooves echoed behind them. They c
ould help protect Nerise, but the final battle would be inside the wooden mansion where they couldn’t use their Old Tech firepower.

  Braden didn’t bother trying the door to see if it was open. He hit it at a dead run, tightening his shoulder muscles as he impacted with the heavy door. The deadbolt tore out of the old frame and the door flew open. Braden staggered through, followed closely by his partner and the rest of the companions.

  They were in a closed back room. Braden tried the next door. Pulling it open, he saw two of the guards they’d seen out front rushing toward him. He had no time to shut the door so he jumped back, fumbling to get his shortsword in hand.

  Micah and Zeller were there. Their blades crossed in front of the door as the first man lunged, trying to catch Braden unaware. He countered quickly as if expecting the fight. Blades flashed in the poorly lit room. Micah pressed her attack, but couldn’t expose herself by going through the door where the second man waited. The first was trying to draw her out. Zeller prodded the first man and he was challenged fighting both women, his best defense being the narrow confines of the doorway and the corridor beyond.

  ‘We must hurry before the others come,’ G-War urged.

  ‘Step aside, Zeller,’ Delavigne insisted in his dainty thought voice. She moved back and with a well-placed shot from his laser, Delavigne caught the man unaware, burning a tiny hole in his chest. The man hesitated, looking dumbly at the wound. Micah thrust her blade through his mid-section, ripping it out an instant later. As he started to fall, she was already out the door and engaged with the second man in a vicious exchange. It became readily apparent that the two were equally matched, well trained and experienced in the use of the sword.