Author's Chapter Notes:
Holy fuck I live! Suffice it to say, last year was hell on earth and my muse was chained in the depths of it. I almost quit teaching because of last year. It was just all around terrible. But! I moved three hours away, live in the nicest place I've ever lived in (Seriously, quartz countertops, hardwood floors, shiplap on the walls and ceiling, on 25 acres for my dogs to run... Yeah. It's nice) all to start a new job with a new district. Same age group as last year but a whole different population break down and town atmosphere. I am over the moon about the possibilities that are open to me in this town and this district. I'm all moved in to my new place. It's just a matter of unpacking. Which... is going to take a while. haha I have a lot of stuff. So for now, I present you with chapter 23. It's a little rough since the first half of this chapter was written several months ago and I just hammered out the second half tonight in a couple hours. There's probably a few little errors but I want to know what y'all think! It's been ages since I've written. I hope this came out well. TIA!
After a long, much needed ride, Tor stopped by the land-grant office. She pulled out a small notebook from her pocket that contained a set of coordinates and landmarks written on the first two pages. Eric arched an eyebrow down at it from his perch on her shoulder. He had never seen that notebook before and wondered what it was for. Before he could ask, Tor walked up to the clerk and handed him a filled-out claim form.
The man looked over the form and nodded. "I need the exact coordinates to ensure this plot of land has not been claimed yet. I need the coordinates for all ordinal boundaries."
Tor copied down the needed information from the book on a clean slip of paper and handed it to the man. He took it to the back and began looking through the reference books to see if any such land had been claimed. Eric poked her neck.
"Hey, you're purchasing land? I didn't know you wanted land all to yourself."
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me. But yes, I want this land." She brushed some of her hair behind her ear. "I'll have to send a couple men to build a fence around the border so no one claim jumps it. I'll just have to do it after the fair. It's a good ways off. On the other side of the Channel."
Eric paused in thought. On the other side of the Channel? There wasn't any land that Tor had seemed overly entranced with on their trip. But, he had not been with her all her life. She very well could have seen some land before he met her and wanted it. Still, it didn't make sense to him. Something wasn't sitting right with it.
The man came back a moment later and handed her a new piece of paper. "Your plot of land is approved. Is there any indigenous wildlife you want to declare?"
"Yes. A population of wild humans. Roughly one-hundred," Tor replied.
"I see. Alright. Simply declare them on this paper and they are legally yours. Although I do recommend branding them or something so if they do escape, you can round them back up easily." He took the paper when Tor handed it back. "Alright, the last order of business is the fees. There is the declaration fee and the administrative fee and the filing fee."
Tor grumbled something under her breath about being overtaxed and government overreach and taxation is theft but counted out the coins and notes and handed them over. The clerk double checked the amount before stamping the form with a big stamp that said "approved." He filed away everything, gave Tor a receipt and a proof of ownership certificate.
"Have a good day, Miss Keller."
Eric was grinning as they left. "You're buying the land where those humans settled. To protect them, right?" He chuckled. "You do have a heart somewhere under all that barbed wire and snark, don't you?"
"No. It's practical. Now I can find them whenever I need to if you get sick again. Or if you want to go and bed that girl who gave you that flower that you have tucked away in your journal." She smirked.
Eric was brick red and spluttering.
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When they returned, Tor set Eric down by her wagon, in the shade of a wheel, as she untacked her horse and returned him to the pasture. She realized that she couldn't ride the stud as often as she would have liked if he was going to be a good breeding horse and cover all the mares to produce foals. She stroked his neck and patted his withers before turning him loose. He had come a long way in the short time she had been "gifted" him. She was proud of every bit of his progress. The young woman lingered by the paddock, watching her horses and thinking of the future.
Eric had thought his spot would be safe. After all, the humans that made up Jason's posse, despite being criminals and such, had never ventured near Tor's wagon. The shade was a perfect spot, coupled with the light breeze that blew. Inside the wagon would have been far too hot and stuffy. He had thought wrong, however. Several members of Jason's hoard of ill-treated humans had cornered him against a wheel. All but one of their number were men. The lone woman was scrawny with stringy hair that fell from a loose bun at the nape of her neck. All the humans were dressed in ragged clothes that were filthy and smelled of mildew and rotten food. Bile rose in the back of Eric's throat as the stench assaulted him.
"Lookit the pretty boy," the woman sneered. "Dressed in fine clothes while we rot in these rags." She spat on the ground at Eric's feet. The young man backed up the hair's breadth that he could. "Oh, did I get dirt on ya pretty clothes? Pardon me, m'lord." She gave a mocking bow, much to the amusement of the men.
"Leave me alone!" Eric protested. "I haven't done a thing to any of you."
"Aaw, he's scared!" One of the men called out. "Poor little tike, are we scarin' you? Well there ain't no need to be scared. See, we's peaceable folk, truly. We just don't think it's fair that you parade around in those nice clothes while we have ta hope an' pray our rags hold up." His smile was crooked in more ways than one.
"We just want to even things out, ya see," the woman said. "So everyone's on equal grounds. Redistribution of goods."
Eric looked confused. "But that would only leave me with no clothes! There's not enough of what I'm wearing to go around."
"Well that sounds like a problem. For you," the woman said. "Not so much for us."
The men chuckled and advanced on the teenager. While Eric was in better health, the lean and hard times as part of Jason's posse had given the others a desperation of strength that was unmatched. They quickly yanked his shirt, boots and pants off him, leaving him in only his long-johns. Then came the fight between each other of who got what. Eric, bolstered by pride, dove into the fray and tried to reclaim his clothes. All he got for his efforts were an elbow to his nose and a fist across his jaw. He felt his nose crack and yelped, stumbling back. It was bleeding freely, pouring down his mouth and chin, soaking the chest of his underclothes.
A different shadow fell across them, darkening their world further. "What in Purgatory is going on here?!" Tor snapped. She crouched, scooped up Eric and held him to her face to assess him. His eyes were starting to blacken, his nose was crooked and his shirt was rapidly soaking in blood. "What happened?"
"They jumped me and took my clothes," Eric muttered, humiliated. "I tried to get them back but..." He trailed off and looked down at her fingers.
Tor's gaze hardened, her purple eyes frigid in their intensity. "Who is the ring leader? Who lead you all the way from Jason's wagons to mine?"
The men in the posse quickly pointed to the woman who screeched in outrage. "It was their idea!" she protested. "They's always talkin' about how he parades around in fine clothing while we wear rags until they fall off and Jason gives us new ones! It ain't fair."
"Life isn't fair," Tor replied testily. "That doesn't mean you gang up on a boy for his clothes." She shifted Eric to one hand, grabbed the woman and carried her over to the paddock fence where she rolled her under the boards and out into the grass among the horses. She then stood and walked back to her wagon as if nothing had happened. She pumped a bowl of water, warmed by the sun on the metal tank it was stored in, for Eric to clean himself. While he washed his face of the blood, she picked out a fresh set of clothes for him.
"You weren't carrying your pistols," she said. "I told you to always carry them, even if you're with me. It's for your safety." The Elder woman rubbed the bridge of her nose as Eric changed. "This could have been prevented if you had had them like I said."
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'm not used to carrying them. It just doesn't occur to me when I dress in the morning to carry a gun." He dried off, gingerly dabbing around his nose and eyes, and dressed in the clean clothes.
"It needs to start occurring. I bought them for you for a reason," she told him.
"I know, I know," he said quietly. "I'll try to start remembering."
Beneath the wagon, the remaining members of the posse watched as the horses milled about in the paddock where the woman had been tossed. They felt no remorse and only the barest hint of pity. The life they lived was hard and short and full of death and the fear of death. All knew they would die someday, more than likely at the hands of Jason, but all hoped for a quick, painless one.
They gathered up their loot and quickly set out back for Jason's wagon. It wouldn't do to be missing if he showed back up and wanted them. That fate would be worse than being tossed into a paddock among giant horses.
