Free the North! (Free Trader Series Book 5)

by Craig Martelle

  “What is this?” he asked the old man.

  “It’s all I have. They’ve taken the rest,” he stuttered.

  “Who?”

  “The provincial officials, the security officers, security of the Provincial Government, that is,” he said, kneading his hands together. Braden leaned closer. The man looked afraid and sincere.

  “Who are they?” Braden wondered.

  “They arrived right before you last time, three cycles ago, but they didn’t establish their authority for a while. They run everything now, all the towns. They’re based out of Jefferson City.”

  Braden looked at Micah and Zeller. G-War stood nearby, confirming the man was telling the truth.

  “Do you know anyone selling water buffalo?” Braden asked all of a sudden.

  “No, but all animal sales have to go through the officials. Actually, sales of just about everything has to go through the officials,” the man whined.

  “That changes things just a bit,” Braden told his companions as he pursed his lips, exhaling heavily. “Where are these officials?”

  The man nodded toward a building that had been something else cycles previously. The new title on the building looked to be hastily painted over the previous owner’s business name. It simply said, “Provincial Government.” Braden looked at Micah and Zeller, shrugged, and walked toward the government building.

  The three of them followed, wondering what they were going to do. “Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “I just want to see how we can buy some water buffalo.”

  ‘Just like you tried to collect a debt of money that you don’t need from a frightened old man? Nothing to worry about,’ Micah said using her thought voice.

  ‘What? You think I’m going to start a war?’ Braden asked, switching to the mindlink.

  ‘That’s exactly what I think you’re going to do. The government has stopped free trade, and I know that has to grate on your very soul,’ she replied.

  ‘There is that. Well, then, let’s go see what we’re up against.’ He never broke stride as they talked. He walked right up to the door and opened it without knocking, boldly striding through. The ‘cat was right on his heels, followed closely by Micah, and finally Zeller shut the door behind her. She’d seen doors and buildings, but nothing like these. These northerners were far advanced.

  Two desks stood in the open area and two more were behind a counter. One person was at a desk there while the two desks up front stood empty.

  “Good morning, good sir! I’m Free Trader Braden and I’ve come to buy some water buffalo. Can you help me?” Braden said, smiling broadly as he assumed his Free Trader persona.

  “There are no more Free Traders. You need to be registered as a Provincial Supplier. What’d you say your name was again?” the man grumbled.

  “I’m Braden,” he enunciated. The man dug through a ledger of sorts, not finding Braden’s name as he thumbed through a series of pages.

  “I don’t see you in here, so I have to assume you are trading without a license. That’s very bad.” The man nodded knowingly.

  “But I haven’t traded anything. I just want to buy some water buffalo. I’m a buyer, not a trader, or a Provincial Supplier as you called them,” Braden backpedaled, unsure of what authority the man wielded and how he’d enforce the various dictates he was spewing.

  “You said you were a trader and now you say you’re a buyer! How can I trust anything that comes out of your mouth?” The man started violently ringing a hand bell that had been sitting on his desk.

  ‘Be ready, they come,’ the ‘cat warned.

  “I had no doubt about that,” Braden answered aloud as he vaulted over the counter, landing half on the man’s desk. He jumped back at the upstart youngster who dared violate the sanctity of the Provincial Government’s office. With a sweep of one arm, Braden cleared everything from the man’s desk.

  Braden pulled his shortsword and pointed it at the official. The man leaned back, trying to put more of his now empty desk between him and this young madman. Braden slid a butt cheek across the desk as he joined the fat man on the other side. Eyes wide, the man could only stare at the blade as it tipped toward his throat.

  Four men burst through a side door, swords in hand as they looked around and assessed the situation. They relaxed when they saw two women. Two of the new men walked toward Micah and Zeller while the other two opened a half-door and walked to the other side of the counter, where they could deal with the young man holding a shortsword to the government official’s throat.

  Micah tapped her blade tip on the floor before assuming a fighting stance. Zeller stepped back. “Watch the door so no one comes in,” Micah snarled in a low voice. Her opponents became more wary as they realized she wasn’t playing. They noticed the scars on her neck and arms. Ribbons of lean muscle bulged as she tightened her grip. They locked eyes and knew fear. The icy stare of death chilled their souls.

  “Hey, we might want to look at this a different way,” one of the men before Micah started to say.

  She attacked, her goal was to disarm them, but that went out the window after the first parry. Her Old Tech sword was sharper by orders of magnitude than the flawed steel these men carried. The closest man blocked Micah’s first swing, but it numbed his arm. Her attack had only been a probe, the swing at half-speed. She feinted right, twirled low and left. With the full core strength of her body, she brought her sword around in a sweeping arc toward the man’s knees. His sword got there in time to block the incoming blade, but it didn’t matter. Micah’s sword shattered his and continued through the first knee, stopping when it hit the man’s second leg.

  Micah twisted the blade from his torn flesh as she rolled to the side, putting the collapsing man’s body between her and her uninjured opponent.

  When she stood, the other man had backed up and was yelling at the two behind the counter to join him. Micah warily sidestepped around the screaming man on the floor. The two swordsmen facing Braden were torn. The government official was terrified and in a panic. No one had ever rebelled against the Provincial Government and these strangers seemed completely unimpressed by titles and superior numbers.

  Micah charged the man who’d backed up against the counter, limiting his room to maneuver. He wasn’t a small man, but the ease by which she had dispatched his partner scared him senseless. After the first few turns when the Provincial Government had taken over, there had been no other resistance. It had been a while since any of these men had been in a real sword fight, and this was like no other. She was both quicker than him and relentless.

  Micah’s sword rang against his as he tried to protect his head. Her sword knocked his back, so she dragged the sharp edge of her blade across his shoulder as she hopped back a half-step. With the shoulder laid wide open, the sword dropped from his dead arm. Micah stepped in quickly and delivered a side kick to the man’s chest. He was backed against the counter which gave him nowhere to go. His ribs broke both in the front and back of his chest, driving shards of rib into his vital organs. He gasped once and collapsed, dying.

  The other man had passed as his heart continued to pump blood through the stump of his leg.

  The last two men stood wide-eyed.

  “We command you to stop! You will be tried and executed for your crimes against the Provincial Government!” the fat man behind the desk shouted. They remaining security men had forgotten about Braden as they both faced Micah from the safety of the other side of the counter.

  She casually walked to the half door, opened it, and let herself in while they watched wide-eyed. They hefted their swords and prepared themselves. One stepped left while the other made to step right. Braden swung his shortsword in an overhead chop to knock the sword from one, even the odds a bit, but missed and took the man’s hand off at the wrist. He screamed in shock. The other man looked away from Micah for an instant.

  She’d had enough. Executed? She thought not. With all the power she could manage, she twisted at her waist a
nd leaned into a swing that took the man’s head clean off. The other continued to scream, holding the stump of his hand. The official panicked and tried to run. He was overweight and when he stood, Braden simply shoved him back into his chair.

  The man threatened them, called them names, and then pleaded with them to let him go.

  Micah had enough of the screaming man and punched the side of his head with the hilt of her sword. She hit him harder than she intended, but she was still fired up from the swordplay. The man was thrown heavily to the floor, his skull caved in.

  G-War sat on the counter the whole time, watching almost disinterestedly. Braden nodded to him, wondering if they could expect any more visitors. The ‘cat shook his head.

  “We’re going to have a little conversation. If I think you’re lying to me, I’m going to cut off your fingers, one by one, until you tell me the truth,” Braden lied. He had no intention of torturing the man, but he was susceptible to suggestion. The official nodded eagerly, hoping that this was his way to survive the strangers. Four of his men were dead in the office and the strangers hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  “How many more men do you have here, and when can we expect them?” Braden asked. The man hesitated, but he was a Provincial Government official and as such, it should have been the honor of those who serve to die for him. He gave them up.

  “There are six more. Four who just came off security duty last night and then the two security officials who patrol during the day. Those two should be stopping by any time now, but they aren’t like these men. They’re mean and you’d be well advised to leave before they get here!”

  With the back of his hand, Braden slapped the man across the face. “That’s enough of that kind of talk. What does the Provincial Government do besides steal from the people?”

  “How do you not know about the Provincial Government? We’ve told everyone what we do and how it benefits them. The people are solidly behind us!” the fat man claimed.

  “I’ll answer your questions because I’m a nice guy, and then you’ll answer mine, because maybe I’m not as nice as all that. I’m from here, but I’ve been gone for some time. But now I’m back and I really don’t like what I see. It’s my way to not let the people suffer under those who hold power over them. Now tell me about the government.” Braden prodded the man with a slight push.

  “The Provincial Government was founded in Jefferson City. Governor Anderle has shared his benevolence with the rest of the known world!” Braden rolled his eyes and slammed the man’s hand onto the desk while he hovered his sword over it. The official started begging for his life again.

  “Stop it! Stop your sniveling and answer my question. How many are in each town from the Provincial Government and where are they?” Braden wanted to see the full spectrum of what he was up against.

  “I don’t know the full numbers!” the fat man stammered. “Something like forty or fifty in Cameron and then maybe one hundred or more in Jefferson City, but the people are behind the Provincial Government the whole way. You’ll have to fight all of them, too!” the man blurted, jutting his chin out in a moment of defiance. When Braden tipped his sword point toward the man, he quickly turned into a blubbering mess.

  “G?” Braden asked, knowing that the man couldn’t hide the truth from the ‘cat.

  ‘The numbers are as close as he knows them. That’s the truth, but the people are not behind the government. Without the strongmen, they’d have no authority. No one carries weapons here except these provincial types. So, if you see someone with a weapon, you’ll have to kill them,’ the ‘cat told them.

  “So, no one gets to carry weapons except for the Provincial Government? I think that’s the first thing we’re going to change. We’ll wait here until your boys show up. We’ll take care of them, and then we’ll deliver you to the hands of the people who you say support you. We’ll turn Whitehorse back over to the traders and then we’ll go to Cameron and do the same thing. See, you’ve done the worst thing you could possibly do to me. You’ve interfered with free trade and that’s something I cannot allow. I’ve spent my whole life as a Free Trader and I’m not about to change now,” Braden snarled. As he finished he was inches from the other man, his spittle flying into the official’s face.

  He tried to cower, but Braden gave him no room.

  “Looks like he was telling the truth. We’re about to have company and they’re carrying swords. Wait. They’re stopping out front,” Zeller said without taking her eyes from the two men in the street.

  “If they aren’t going to come in, then let’s go out and introduce ourselves,” Micah stated as she strode carefully through the blood on her way to the door. Braden dragged the official by his ear, following Micah as she headed for the door. She nodded once to Zeller to follow them.

  Micah opened the door and walked out, sword in hand, still dripping the blood of the security men. Zeller fanned out to the side so the two women could face off against the men, who looked confused. Their eyes keyed in on the doorway as the government official was bodily hauled out and pushed to the ground behind the two women, illegally armed with swords.

  “Kill them!” the official shouted. Braden wrapped an arm around the man’s neck, kneeled on his back, and pulled with all the strength in his body. The fat man’s neck crushed beneath Braden’s muscled forearm before Braden let him go. The man gasped for air and choked until he fell lifeless to the ground.

  “Never. Interfere. With. Trade,” Braden said deliberately. G-War looked at the group as each person postured.

  ‘You’re going to have to kill them,’ the ‘cat told them all over the mindlink.

  “That’s the plan,” Micah said out loud as she assumed her fighting stance. Zeller mirrored it as they each moved toward their enemy.

  The men pulled their swords, trying to stay together to cover each other’s back as they retreated a few steps. The women spread to the sides and approached the men from opposite directions. But these two women looked like warriors, not farmers or craftsmen. The men were confused.

  The first clang of steel on steel drove the men to action. They were the authority in Whitehorse. Those who disputed that had to die. They blocked the first attacks and counter-attacked. Micah and Zeller easily handled the men’s attacks as they had more room to maneuver. Footwork, along with eye-hand coordination was emphasized heavily in their training. They didn’t fight with a fancy technique. They fought to win. And the men soon realized that.

  A nick on the arm here, a slash across the chest there, and soon the men were panting and gasping for air.

  “It won’t be long now, gentlemen,” Braden said softly to himself. He marveled at how his partner fought while also being afraid at how efficient she was at killing. He wished she didn’t have to. He wished he didn’t have to watch. But he’d made that choice for them when he learned that free trade had been outlawed in the north. All he wanted was fifty water buffalo, but it sounded like they were going to Jefferson City to clear out the nest of Crawlers.

  Micah simply wore the man down. He’d matched her for a brief time and then she pounded his sword out of his hand before slicing him nearly in half. A crowd of people had gathered and watched as the three strangers removed the Provincial Government’s people from their town. Some were angry, some were relieved.

  Micah could have stabbed the other man in the back, but she let Zeller fight her own fight. There was still honor to fight for, and Micah needed Zeller to be confident in her role as a warrior.

  Zeller accidentally crossed her feet and the man pressed his advantage, forcing her to stumble, but she wasn’t as off-balance as she appeared. He was tired and wanted to end the fight. He over-extended his reach. Zeller side-stepped and slashed his arms. The man dropped his sword as she delivered a short stab into his throat. He couldn’t raise his arms to slow the bleeding from the gash. The man fell to his knees as his eyes glazed over, and he collapsed to the ground.

  The final four security men forced thei
r way through the crowd and looked aghast at their dead fellows. They were partially dressed as they’d been roused from their sleep by some citizen sycophant. They had brought their swords, but weren’t ready for what they saw.

  Braden put his shortsword away and drew his bow. The men stood dumbfounded. He killed two of them before they realized they were under attack. One rushed forward, out of control, while the last man turned and fled. G-War bolted from the doorway like an orange arrow. He raced through the crowd after the man while Skirill took wing, diving sharply in front of the man, trying to buy G-War a little more time.

  The Hawkoid raised his claws toward the man’s face as he finished his dive and furiously beat his wings. The frightened man stopped and waved his sword in front of him, while Skirill pulled up short, well out of reach as the Hillcat jumped into the man’s head from behind, wrapping his front paws around the man’s neck and pulling in opposite directions, claws tearing through the soft tissue of the human throat as he jumped to the side, away from the sword’s blade. It took an instant for the man to realize that he only had a few more heartbeats to live. He gurgled the last of his life’s juices.

  Skirill beat his wings hard to gain altitude and fly to the high tree where his mate perched.

  G-War strolled back toward the gathering in front of the Provincial Government’s office. A loud meow from a dark corner to the side drew his attention. ‘Well, hello, my pretty!’ G-War cooed. ‘What brings you here…’

  “We need to get out of here before, you know, G-War…” Micah whispered to Braden. She stooped to clean her sword on the dead man’s clothing. Zeller did the same, mirroring Micah’s movements, because she’d never killed anyone before. She had a scared look in her eye. Braden felt sorry for her, but hoped that they could talk before any other enemies appeared. He and Micah, unfortunately, were too used to death. He put his hand on Zeller’s shoulder, trying to comfort her, but she jumped at his touch. He hung his head in shame. Just like Bronwyn. He’d introduced another good soul to the dark side of humanity.