http://i66.photobucket.com/albums/h279/needsalt/048dsf.jpg Needy's Destiny II: The Legend of Fox Cipher

Chapter 4: Outsiders

19.12.22 The Passenger’s life had been ruled by numbers

27. The number of minutes it took the coach to travel from Tamsborough to Sharpe 142. The number of seconds she spent sitting on the oak chair outside the hardware store, before a kind local let her know she wasn’t welcome 3. The number of bones she calculated breaking in the man’s body – two in his hand as she crushed it, blocking his intended punch to her face; one in his wrist as she pulled his arm behind his shoulder, dislocating it. She imagined his nose would have broken too as he fell to the floor, if only he had been a bit taller. Instead the wooden fence met his forehead and knocked him out cold. 9. The number of people that witnessed it but failed to do anything about the matter.

The townsfolk did look after their own, but in this case, they were evidently smarter than they looked. The man that now lay unconscious in a heap on the floor had clearly challenged the wrong person, witnesses to the fact took note of this, walked on and hoped the visitor wouldn’t stay long.

Meanwhile, the Passenger continued to stare at the inn that sat opposite her, waiting for the inevitable. “The inevitable” was a phrase she used often, and quite rightly too, for when it came down to it, events weren’t determined by “if” but “when”, especially when she was involved. She got the job done; it was what she was there for. And so, once more, it came down to numbers. How long would it be till this mission was accomplished? Days? Hours? Or mere minutes?

Just then, her question seemed to be answered.

6. The number of minutes the young companion had spent in the public inn before being forcibly dragged out

5. The number of thugs that surrounded him, standing over him as they kicked sand in his eyes.

And…

1. The number of variables she hadn’t accounted for.

**********

I felt the collar to my cheaply made shirt tear as the men continued to drag my body through the dirt. As my shirt began to ride up my back, I felt the harsh ground scratch my exposed skin whilst sand and stones stowed away into my underwear, an unfortunate side-effect if ever there was one.

My captors seemed quite content to literally spit profanities at me instead of kindly explaining I wasn’t wanted like a civilised man might. I could have complained about their bad etiquette, but I imagined they would have mistaken “etiquette” for an exotic dish. Finally, we stopped and I was dropped to the floor like a sack of garbage. The inn seemed so far away now as I realised that I had in fact been dragged into the middle of the road. More accurately, we were closer to the cross-section of both roads - out in the open, clear for all to see. Evidently there was a show about to be put on, and I was going to be the star. They were going to make me an example. An example of what? Of filling a whore’s pants with sand without getting your hands dirty? Possibly. But they’d already accomplished that. I expected that they were planning something much more inventive and I feared they hadn’t even begun their humiliation of me yet.

“Stupid little whore” Mitch sneered whilst his friends circled the two of us. “Ye think ye can stroll inta our town with yeh dirty little tricks. Alliance ain’t wanted ere an neither are ye. We ain’t stupid, we know what yeh tryin’ ta do.”

I sure wish they had enlightened me, because I had no clue what they thought I was trying to do. Still don’t. Mitch rattled on for a couple of minutes whilst his friends walked circles around me, but I only took a fraction of it in, I was far too busy wondering what the hell I was thinking talking back to him. Perhaps I could have forgiven myself if my reply had been wittier, but “pretty face”? That was all I could think of? Maybe I deserved the treatment after all

As one of the goons passed me by, kicking dust in my face for the thousandth time, I closed my eyes and kept them shut. I couldn’t stand dust in my eyes any more than I could bear the glare of the sun any longer. Still, I guess the real reason I kept them shut was not just to protect them from the elements, but to protect my own dignity. I knew deep down that whatever was to come would, at best, represent the very least dignified of welcomes, and I couldn’t bare to watch myself go through that. And so my eyes remained shut, waiting, praying for it to be over already. Funny, it never actually occurred to me that maybe I should pray for help.

“I think you’ve had your fun boys” a voice called out without warning.

At that point it felt like time had stopped. Everything seemed still, there was silence in the air, and although I started to open my eyes, it seemed like forever before my vision actually returned to me.

“No, we ain’t e’en got started yet.” Mitch finally replied, breaking the silence “‘Sides, this don’t concern ye.”

The sun was continuing to shine in my eyes, blinding me like God’s own brand of torture. Despite raising my hand up in a bid to provide some sort of shade, I could only make out the shape of Mitch standing mere feet away; I had no hope of discovering who it was standing in the distance, interrupting this little welcome party Mitch and his friends had thrown for me. Mitch, on the other hand, seemed to know sure as hell who was talking

“Well I say it does,” the voice boomed again “and unless you want another scar on that pretty face of yours, I’d say you’re pretty much done with this boy here” I couldn’t see the man, but I could hear him loud and clear, and his voice told me one thing: I had no idea who it was. I didn’t recognise the voice as that belonging to a friend – one acting out of loyalty on my behalf. And I suspected if this town did have a sheriff, he wouldn’t exactly go out of my way to protect a complete stranger. No, I guessed this man had some other agenda. He wasn’t doing this for me, or to keep the peace, his gripe appeared to be solely with Mitch.

A hush of silence fell upon the street once more as the two obviously waiting for the other to fold. Everything was still, that is until one of Mitch’s men kindly did me a favour, moving his head slightly and blocking the sun’s unbearable glare. At that point I could at least make out the silhouette of the man that had come to my aid. From what little I could discern, the man was of average height, standing a few inches shorter than his foe. He stood firm in his place, looking directly at the men that had surrounded me and, in particular, their leader. From his stance and demeanour, I gathered the man wasn’t the type to back down.

“Fine” Mitch surrendered, menacing tone still present. “Ye can have yeh way with your little whore friend, see if I care. Was gettin’ bored anyhow.”

Guess I was wrong. The man wasn’t looking for a fight. If his issue had been with Mitch then surely the two wouldn’t have parted in such a respectful manner. But evidently that's the way it was to be. Mitch and his friends sauntered away towards the inn, defeated but still not afraid to kick dust in my face as they passed me by.

As I heard the doors to the establishment close behind them, I felt more confident in my ability to pick myself up of the ground. Though seemingly hesitant at first, the man began to walk towards me. Still perparing myself to stand up, I looked upwards at the man as he approached. The glare of the sun may have still been upon me but soon enough it didn’t matter. He was standing over me and his face could be seen as clear as day.

“You ok?” the man asked me simply. So much for silent Bob. Laconic, maybe, but clearly not silent.

My quiet neighbour in the inn stood over me as Mitch had done only moments before, but I no longer felt the same fear. Maybe that was naivety on my part because Bob was still not the friendliest guy. It didn’t seem to occur to him that I might have needed a hand in getting up, but I managed nonetheless. “Yeah” I managed to mumble as I brushed the indented stones from my back, and fiddled with my underwear until the majority of dust and sand had escaped down my trousers legs to my feet.

Bob glared at me disparagingly, as if I had no idea what humiliation I had escaped from. I knew. Or at least I could imagine. It just didn’t bare thinking about. Making sure I looked presentable may have seemed superficial and irrelevant, but it was the only therapy I knew, focussing on the little things helped prevent me from dwelling on what could have been. Later I would cringe as I recalled what did happen, never mind the revulsion I felt as I lingered on the thought of what they could have done. Bob had saved me from that fate. I didn’t break down nor cry out in relief. I merely did what any grateful man would do in such a situation. I said “thank you”.

The words seemed to fly right over Bob’s head. They didn’t mean anything to him, they were just words, and he had just done what anyone would have, or at least, what anyone should have. What he did say, however, completely took me by surprise.

“She’s at Raven’s Cottage. Brown door, white marked path, curtains are always drawn.”

“I’m sorry?” I asked completely baffled

“There’s three houses set back on their own up there at the top of West Street. Raven’s is the middle one.”

“Raven…” I started to ask

“Your friend,” he answered “the one you’re looking for. You’ll find her there.”

Bob recited the details as if he was reading them from off a screen. How he spouted off the information was not what was worrying however, it was the fact that he seemed to know exactly what I was doing there. Could he truly know who I was looking for, or was it a ruse? Was he merely in fact trying to gauge information from me?

“My friend?” I asked, after giving consideration to my worried thoughts.

“Yes” he replied, though with more urgency this time. His eyes were not focussed on me, but actually were scanning the area. Was he wary of being seen talking to me for too long? “The companion” he clarified.

I stood staring at him speechless, my clothes still covered in dirt and from what smelt like horse manure. “Fra…?”

“Samaire Huizhong” he responded, dampening my hope for a quickened resolution to my questions. “Female of Shinon heritage, born 2472. Served as a companion at Kara prior to the war of…”

“Wait wait wait” I interrupted as he continued to recite the facts like a B-class robot. Then he paused, waiting for me to ask the one question lingering at the tip of my tongue - a question quite pointless considering the answer was oh-so-obvious. Nevertheless, I went and asked it anyway. “You’re talking about Samaire?”

The sandy-haired man shook his head “I thought you people were supposed to be smart, you need me to spell it out for you?”

At this point, I felt I had just entered the alien state, where logic and normalcy had no place. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the fact that I had just been dragged into the street by five thugs or maybe it was simply the fact that I now had some mystery man standing in front of me, knowing things he couldn’t about me. Whatever it was, any patience I had previously had was now missing in action. I wanted answers.

“What the hell are you talking about? Who are you? How do you know who I am?!”

The man now stopped flicking his attention around us and was focussed intently on me, glaring into my eyes. “I don’t”

“Then how do you know what I’m doing here?”

The man smiled and shook his head. “Why else would a male companion like you be here?”

His cool attitude had calmed me down somewhat, but those feelings of frustration were now turning to anger. “If you don’t know me…” I started to say in a slow and mild tone “then how do you know I’m a companion?”

The man laughed. I don’t know what it was but I seemed to be having that effect on a lot of people. “Let me tell you something, the people in this town may be dirty and despicable, criminals even – the lowest of the low…” then he leaned in towards me and stated simply “but they’re not stupid”

I stared at the man. I didn’t know who he was or what his agenda was, but I knew he wasn’t to be trusted. He may have saved me but he was a man of secrets. I could tell that by looking in his eyes just as he could tell who I was by looking right back at me.

“These people don’t like outsiders. They don’t like me, they don’t like you, and it don’t matter whether she’s lived here for ten, twenty of a hundred years, I’d place a bet they don’t like your friend either.”

“And how would you know that” I called back to the man, who had started to take steps backwards towards the inn.

He smiled again, though this time it wasn’t so much sly, as almost friendly. “Cos from what I hear she ain’t stepped foot outside that house since she’s been here. If it’s not cos she’s afraid of these people, its because she’s probably got something to hide. And that ain’t gonna make her any friends either”

With that he turned and started his way back towards the inn. To continue his conversation with Mitch and his gang? I don’t know. But he sure as hell didn’t seem nervous.

“Hey, Bob” I called out “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

He stopped and turned to his head to the side. Was it worth it? Was it worth him responding? Probably not, but he did it anyway. He didn’t face me directly but he did answer.

“My name’s not Bob”

“Then what is it?” I asked back “What shall I call you?”

The man paused, shook his head, then kept walking.

“Hey, what’s your name?” I called out

Nothing, he may have made a show of helping me but he certainly didn’t want to help me make sense of things. He was a man of secrets, just as I had suspected, but I imagined it wouldn’t be the last I saw of him. Unfortunately, I was right

**********

4, 17, 56, 82, 9, 30

The Passenger keyed the numbers into the device she held in her hand, concealed in her lap. The small round communicator lit up around the sides as the device connected via satellite link.

“Line Active” the message popped up in Mandarin on the rectangular screen, then underneath it a simple word followed: “Status?”

The Passenger looked at the screen then inconspicuously back at the two men that stood face to face in the middle of the road. It was him, she was sure of it. Whatever reason he had for being in this town didn’t matter; he had picked the wrong time to show his face. Or maybe it was the right time. He may have been the one variable she couldn’t have imagined, but his presence there was nevertheless a blessing. The group had wanted The Legend, but here now, was someone so much more important.

She typed on the pad in her hand, whilst keeping the two men in her peripheral vision. “PHOENIX Located. Repeat. PHOENIX Located. Please Advise”

The man, like The Legend himself was no mere mortal. He was special. And he was invaluable to the group. They had let him slip through their hands once before, but it wasn’t going to happen again. Not this time. The Passenger would make sure of that.