Table of Contents – (spoilers)
At Bristlehump’s south gate, Choke, Peep, and Gabe took up station so that they could have a quiet word away from the other soldiers.
It was late afternoon, and a few townspeople were coming and going through the gate. Children and some younger wives were heading out into the forest to wait for their men coming back from the lumber camps. Other folk who had been working the woods in other ways were returning. Some had bundles of firewood, others baskets of berries. A pair of lads with slings proudly returned with a large hare. Choke made a point to greet all the folk in a polite manner. Still, the traffic was not too disruptive to the conversation.
“What’s up, Gabe?” Peep asked as she took up an indolent posture, leaning against the gatepost with her shortbow still in hand.
“Uhh… yeah, my mom said to tell ye that the special barrel of beer that ye ordered is all set to be picked up tonight just after dinner. She said she’d be happy to feed ye if ye came a little early to pick it up.”
“Good. Thank you, Gabe. You can tell her we’ll be honored to do that,” Choke said.
“Ah, yeah. Right. Ahmm… I could just deliver it, though. Like the last barrel to the church,” Gabe said, looking confused.
“Gabe. Are ye a fuckin moron?” Peep asked with a friendly smile. “Did Babs ask ye to deliver it?”
“Well, no. And I said I could, but she just yelled at me to deliver the message. I just don’t—”
“Ye just don’t fuckin know when to stop, do ye?” Peep interrupted. “Ye were told exactly what to do. Now ye done it. You don’t gotta do any thinking beyond that. Babs wants us down there to collect it at a certain time. Ye tell her we’ll be there.”
“Okay. Look, did I do something wrong here?”
“Ye ask too many fuckin questions. But besides that, yar almost fuckin useful,” Peep hawked and spat on the ground near Gabe’s foot.
“You’re just fine, Gabe. You’re doing fine,” Choke said.
“We don’t know that, Choke. He could be into all kinds a shit we don’t know about. Couldn’t ye, Gabe?” Peep asked.
“I… I don’t…” Gabe babbled.
“Shut up. How’s yar stilling going these days, Gabe?” Peep asked.
“My stilling?”
“Yeah. Yar fuckin stilling. How’s it going? Ye getting things set up for yarself?”
“Well, yeah. It’s just a small pot we got right now, but I’m getting it figured out. I figure I learned just about everything Cornmasher has to teach me. Now all I need is a proper big kettle.”
“That’s gotta be a pretty big expense to get started. So tell me about Henri,” Peep said.
“Who?” Gabe said, suddenly looking like he was about to throw up.
“Who? Who? Who, he says to me,” Peep shook her head in disbelief. “When not ten hours ago the boy sits at a table with us and his mom, listening to us talking all about the guy. And sitting there the whole time like a two-pound hen that’s about to lay a one-pound egg.”
Peep paused then, staring off into the cloudy sky in affected disbelief. Gabe stood morosely waiting for something to save him. Nothing did, so he eventually had to throw himself into the breach.
“Look. It’s not like everyone is saying! At least, I’m pretty sure it aint!” Gabe exclaimed.
“What is going on?” Choke asked. He turned to Peep: “Did you go and dig up some information from someone this afternoon, Peep?”
“Huh? No,” Peep said, looking miffed. “I don’t need to lean on any of these fuckin hicks to figure out an angle when I see it. Something was hinky about this one,” she pointed Gabe’s way, “and that Henri story. I could smell it. So, while I was out in the woods checking things out this afternoon, I figured it out. I do my best thinking when I’m set up in the bush.”
Peep stared at Choke for a while to see if he could figure out the puzzle for himself. When his irritation was just about to overtake his befuddlement, she turned back to Gabe:
“So what’s the play here, Gabe? You didn’t help Henri kill the other guy, did ye?”
“No! Look! It’s like I’m trying to tell you: yes, Henri killed Bryce. But it was in self-defense! They were gonna go into business together with them hoors, and Bryce tried to make a move on Henri and kill him. Henri just got the best of him, that’s all. It was a fair fight,” Gabe said.
Choke scowled and turned away to scratch his scalp with both hands in frustration as the full nature of the situation unfolding began to dawn on him.
“So says Henri,” Peep said.
“Well, not just him. All the other soldiers seen it. He did it right there, right?” Gabe pointed at the center of the military yard.
“Brother Barrelmender has talked to the others. And he will decide what is to be done next. So, all we know for a fact right now is that Henri killed Bryce. The why of it can only be conjecture. Were the women here in the barracks?” Choke asked.
“I dunno,” Gabe shrugged.
“We’ll get to the bottom of all that,” Peep said. “What I’m interested in, is why yar so keen on polishing Henri up for us. What’s the plan here? Are ye gonna go into business together? Or are ye just looking to supply him with potato wine for his joint?”
“Oh, Gabe,” Choke sighed.
“Look, buddy. I get the play, here,” Peep said reasonably. “Yar big dream is to become some kinda merchant out here. Getting a stake in a hoorhouse is a good way to get that started. Just one question: have ye run any of this by yar mom yet?”
“What? No! And don’t you tell her! Please!”
“Oh, shit!” Peep laughed uproariously. “For fuck sakes, boy, let me tell ye: ye start running hoors over in the next holler, I think yar mom is gonna hear about it.”
Gabe flushed in embarrassment.
“Gabe,” Choke said, attempting to keep his voice level, “please tell me you are not thinking about going into business running whores with an army deserting killer. Before, when we asked you why you wanted to come and help us, when everyone else around seemed set against us, you told us that it is because you are a good Stronian. Well, Gabe, let me tell you something that good Stronians do not do. They don’t run whores!”
“Look, sir, I’m not saying that’s what I’m gonna do. Or that’s what I wanna do. I’m just saying that the situation with Henri might not be so cut and dry as ye think. That’s all.”
“But ye have been thinking about going into business with him, haven’t ye?” Peep asked.
“Well, maybe just selling him beer and potato wine. What’s the harm in that?”
“Well, the guy has already killed his first business partner. So I’d think long and hard about getting into bed with him. So to speak. But what have you actually discussed with him? In terms of his business plans?” Peep asked reasonably.
“Well, him and Bryce were trying to organize setting up a new hoorhouse, somewheres nearby. It’s true that they were going into business together. They wanted to know if I could sort them out with booze. That’s all. Then, they fought and Henri killed Bryce.”
“But ye didn’t witness that,” Peep said.
“No, I didn’t. And then Henri run off into the bush with the women. A couple days ago he got word to me that he’s still interested in buying whatever I can sell him,” Gabe said.
“Who’d he get word to ye through?” Peep asked.
Gabe hesitated.
“Now’s not the time to be holding out on us, dipshit. Who was it?” Peep asked.
“My brother, Dusty.”
“Yar brother is tight with Henri?”
“No. But his friend, Norris, is,” Gabe said.
“Well, alright then. So, about the setup Henri has going. How many girls does he have?” asked Peep.
“Three, I guess. The whole thing kicked up because after ye torched Tully’s and killed all them, the girls were gonna run off to Bristlenook. On account that Swallowtail is always willing to help out women. Especially young ones.”
“Yeah, Thickmeat Thad the pussy stretcher is a real samaritan when it comes to that, I’m sure. How many girls were working Tully’s anyway?”
“Five proper hoors. And then another older one who cooked and cleaned and that. Anyways, it seems like one of the girls was sweet on Bryce and didn’t wanna go to Thad, because, ye know, he’s kinda weird, right? So she talked two of her friends into seeing about hooking up with Bryce and Henri to get into business all together.”
“Uh-huh,” Peep said sarcastically. “They’re gonna be a right happy bunch, I’m sure. So then, Henri kills Bryce, however that went down, and the three girls still go along with him? He must be a real sweet talker, huh?”
“Well…” Gabe said, looking uncomfortable again. “I dunno. I guess he probably scared them into it. He’s… a bit intense sometimes, Henri.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough of this nonsense,” Peep said. “D’ye know where he’s holed up? So to speak,” Peep giggled.
Gabe cracked a smile himself as he answered: “Someplace on the South Hill. Not sure where. He’s in some tents for now, until he can work up enough of a stake to rebuild Tully’s. That’s his plan, anyways.”
“Yeah, no doubt. A real visionary, this guy,” Peep said.
“The other two women,” Choke said. “The ones that Henri didn’t take to his tent brothel. They went to Thad in Bristlenook, I take it?”
“Yeah. That’s what people are saying, anyways. Complaining, like. Ye know, that Thad is hoarding all that pussy out there,” Gabe said.
“Yeah, well, nice work if ye can get it,” Peep said. “Alright, I think that’s it for now. So, Gabe, what’re ye after here? Are ye still interested in helping us? Getting that badass rep honed for helping us clip bandits out here? Is that still yar plan?”
“Yes, Miss Otilla! It is!”
“Okay, then. So what yar gonna be is smart. When yar brother Dusty gets back to town, ye tell him to tell his buddy, Norris, to tell Henri that ye’ll sell him whatever potato wine ye can. Ask him to find out how much he needs. And ye tell yar brothers and Norris, and whoever else asks, that we aint been a bit bothered asking after Henri. Then, in the meantime while yar waiting for his word back, yar gonna work that still of yars real hard getting set to fill the order. Right?”
“Okay. And then I sell it to him?”
“Don’t know yet. We’ll keep ye posted. The important thing is that ye string him along and are seen to be working hard on building up stock. Right?”
“Okay. Will do, Miss Otilla. Sir,” Gabe said, turning to address Choke as an afterthought.
“And while yar doing that, ye might wanna meditate on something,” Peep said. “Running hoors out here might be a good way to rake in the coin. And there’s a good reason for that. Even if we let Henri slide to do his thing, how long d’ye think it’s gonna be before some Outfit-backed cats are gonna come around to take his place? Ye think that dipshit can hold the spot down? Ye don’t wanna be anywhere near him when he gets challenged. Ye think on that. Okay, fuck off back home to mom and tell her that we’ll come around to collect that beer at dinner time, just like she said. Ye got that?”
“Yes, Miss Otilla! Yes, sir.”
“Alright, then. Scoot!”
Peep and Choke watched Gabe hurry back to the stable to collect his horse. Choke waved to him as he rode on out the north gate, heading for home.
“Are you thinking to use this liquor sale of his to catch Henri?” Choke asked.
Peep shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe. Snares, nets, blinds, and traps. No way to know which one yar gonna wind up using when the time comes. But there’s no use spooking the pimp, is there? When we decide to take him, however we decide, it aint gonna be too hard, I reckon.”
“Probably not. We have bigger fish to fry presently, though,” Choke said.
“Oh indeed we do, LT. Indeed we do.”
***
Pinch’s largely performative patrol turned up nothing of interest. Once he returned, Choke and Peep pulled Pinch and Knuckle aside to brief them on what they had been doing.
“I don’t like you two going alone to meet Bob. They might have an ambush set up on the trail to Babs’. He might tip Sneed to ye coming there. There’s all kinds a ways this could get fucked,” Pinch said.
“Well, that might be true,” Peep answered. “But it’s a longshot. I scouted that whole slope this afternoon, and I set up on Babs’ place and watched it for over an hour. Aint nothing untoward happening out that way that I can sniff out. And them folk have been real solid for us so far. So it’s worth the risk, I’d say. And then, to flip that coin over: if we bring the two of ye along, ye really trust all these assholes to stick around here and behave properly with only Dom and Lenny watching them?”
“She’s right, Pinch. We need you and Knuckle here watching the men. We can’t leave them unsupervised. But we should be careful. Give your horn to Peep, and if anything goes wrong, we’ll blow it,” Choke said.
“Fat lot of good that’ll do ye out there in the bush if Sneed’s set up out there,” Knuckle said.
“Well, if he is, then having you two along aint gonna do much beyond getting ye killed as well. Ye hear us tootin, know we’re hightailing it straight back this way. Ye set up a reception for whoever’s chasing us,” Peep said.
“You got it.”
“Tell the men we’re going to get some beer. That should cheer them up,” Choke said.
“Fuck them. That cheers me up!” Knuckle laughed.
Peep and Choke rode out through the north gate in full kit just as the sun dipped behind the tree-topped hills. It was not more than a five-minute ride on a good trail to Babs’ place, but they went slowly with full caution and it took fifteen. As Peep had predicted, there were no problems.
Babs put on a good feed for them inside her large cottage. With her husband Balan off to Spitzer with their boys, Dusty and Garet, there was just their daughter Lily and, of course, Gabe there. The meal was simple, but hearty, featuring fresh venison. Babs did the bulk of the talking, and kept it light.
They had all just finished eating and were nursing a weak black beer when there was a shrill whistle out in the dusk, clearly audible through the open windows. Bab went to lean out a window and whistle back. A different trill was immediately returned. None of the whistling was disguised as birdsong. It was straight teamster signaling.
“All right. He’s up there, waiting. Here, take this,” Babs lit a lantern from a candle and held it out to Choke, who rose from the table.
“Oh, shit!” Gabe said, his head rolling back as he finally figured out what was going on. “Well, why didn’t ye just tell me this is what was happening?”
“Hush up, my boy,” Babs chuckled. She then turned to Choke and Peep, who were about to head out the door: “Once yar all done, come on back and we’ll have Gabe come up with ye with the wagon and a barrel of beer. It aint gonna be any more special than my usual, but I don’t suppose that them winners ye got up there are fit to know the difference.”
“Thank ye, Babs,” Peep said.
“Indeed. Thank you. We appreciate it,” Choke seconded.
Out the cabin and through its back yard, there was a trail up the hill to Babs’ spring where she drew the excellent water for her ale. Just up from the spring was a good camp in the woods with a big firepit and benches. Just as he had been for their last meeting there, Bob was waiting for them.
“Bob. Good to see ye,” Peep said, as she returned the arrow she had notched on her shortbow into the quiver on her back.
“Indeed. Thank you for coming,” Choke said.
Bob stood up and faced Peep and Choke. He had not brought any light source of his own, and it was not quite dark enough to need Babs’ lantern. In the shadows of dusk in the trees, Bob’s grizzled features were smoothed like a smudged charcoal sketch.
“Yeah. We’re under the same oath of truce as last time, right? This here is Balan’s hearth, remember,” Bob said.
“That’s right,” Peep said. “Glad ye remember.”
“Ye think I’m likely to forget it? All right, let’s have a seat and get this the fuck over with,” Bob said.
The three sat down across the firepit from each other, with Peep and Choke on adjacent benches. Peep set her shortbow down on the bench beside her. Choke put the lantern down on his bench and turned it up.
“So, that was some fuckin show ye put on at the yard this morning,” Bob said.
“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you, man,” Peep laughed. “And aren’t ye glad we did? Ye want all them guys knowing that ye helped us get Dixon? Nah. Didn’t think so.”
“Yeah, well, they bought it. So now what?”
“What the fuck ye think, Bob? We want Butters. Ye got more to give us on that, don’t ye,” Peep stated.
“Look. I aint opposed to ye going after him. Not after what he did to ye. But ye gotta understand: I aint lookin to become yar go-to snitch on all things Outfit, right? I gotta look out for me and mine.”
“Yeah, I get that. So I would reckon that ye’d want us to get those fuckers off yar throat,” Peep said.
“Oh, is that what yar gonna do?” Bob laughed cynically.
“What else? Look man, yar in a bad spot. I get it. I mean, look at what just happened to yar boss in Spitzer. Nasty thugs, these Outfit boys. No loyalty. So, if I were you, I wouldn’t go thinking that yar gonna manage to safely tread some kind of middle ground. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Oh, is that all yar saying? That’s what happened to Wes, is it? He got carved up by the Outfit, for what? For getting stuck in the middle with some bigger players? Look, I aint trying to say shit about shit. I don’t got no theories on what happened to Wes. I know better than to do that. But I aint fuckin stupid neither.”
“Well, that’s good, Bob,” Peep said. “But ye gotta know that ye are jacked up right in the middle of this. Even worse than Wes was, I’d say. The Baron has heard yar name. We couldn’t keep it outta his ear. Sorry. That’s just the way it broke. And when he heard yar part in all that Dixon bullshit, he wanted to have Father Morrenthall, who’s now the magistrate of Spitzer, by the way, he wanted to have the Father come up here and twist all the fuckin truth outta ye before lighting ye up for all to see. Now, the Father being the forward-thinking man that he is, talked the Baron outta that course. So ye got something of a pass, I guess. But ye best get yar head on the right side of things here. Because ye can’t stay out of it.”
“For fuck sakes!” Bob shouted, slamming his hand down on the bench next to him. “Do ye have any idea! Any idea! What they’re gonna do to my fuckin family?”
Peep waited a long moment for Bob to calm down a little before she continued:
“I feel for ye, man. It’s the shits. But that’s the way it goes. So I’m gonna say something to ye that Father M said to Sheriff Waters when he had him in a tight spot. If that’s the way ye think this is gonna go, then I suggest ye help us get those fuckers before they can get to you and yours. That’s it. And listen: we’re gonna do our best to keep ye out of this. No one needs to know. All we need is information. Solid information. Ye give us that, and we might be able to keep ye safe.”
“Yar gonna keep me outta it? Like ye were gonna keep my name from getting into the Baron’s ear?”
“I aint certain that’s something we promised, Bob,” Peep said. “I think we just said we’d do our best. And that’s what we’re gonna keep doing. So. Bob. Where’s Butters?” Peep asked, her voice deadly low now.
Bob sighed deeply and dropped his face into his hands with his elbows on his knees. He stayed in this posture for a good while. Finally, when he raised his face up to look into Peep’s eyes, he was resolute.
“Okay. I’ll help ye get him. But he can’t be arrested. Ye can’t collar him and bring him in. He’s gotta disappear. I mean, he’s gotta drop of the face of Aern. D’ye understand me?”
“Well, people disappear every day, Bob. It’s all just a question of motivation. Why shouldn’t we haul him in? That fuck shot the Lieutenant here. We’re supposed to let everyone around think that he just got away on that?” Peep said, glaring at Bob.
“Look! If ye arrest him, or even if he just turns up dead, everyone is gonna know that I served him up to ye. And it won’t matter if ye get all the Outfit cats that are around right now. That gets out and every hard psycho within five days’ ride from here will be heading straight for me to split me open purely on spec. Just to make points. He has to disappear. Like Corporal Munge did.”
“I don’t see what that fuckin goof has to do with anything,” Peep said coldly.
“Listen, I couldn’t give a shit about him. But I don’t want ye to think I’m so dumb that I’m gonna buy that yar above working that way,” Bob said, his voice level.
Peep shrugged.
“So ye know where Butters is,” she said.
“Yeah. I do. And I can hand him right over to ye on a sliver platter. But, like I said: he’s gotta disappear. Everyone at the yard knows I’ve got him stashed, so if anything but that goes down, the Outfit is gonna hear that I was behind it. I hand him over to ye: he disappears. That’s the deal. And then, once that’s all done, I want it known, to Father Morrenthall and the Baron, that I cooperated. I want—”
“Woah, Bob,” Peep interrupted. “Hold up, man. Hold up. Look, dood, the way things sit right now is: yar harboring a fuckin fugitive. You do anything but what we say, we haul ye in and go to work on ye to find out where Butters is. Then we hang what’s left of ye. And if yar really that worried about yar family, then having us do that to ye is the only sure way of keeping them outta it. So, ye’ll take what we fuckin give ye. Is that clear?”
Bob said nothing. He sat where he was, glaring at Peep.
“Okay, then,” Peep eventually said. “Give me a sec to talk to the LT here. So, whad’ye figure, boss?” she asked Choke.
“You don’t want to discuss this privately?” Choke asked her.
She shrugged. “Nah. What’s he gonna fuckin do about it? The only real question at this point, sir, is whether or not yar okay with me getting this job done the way Bob wants it. Because if ye aint, then he’s gonna have to hand Butters over for a hanging and take his chances. Or, he’ll refuse, and then we gotta process him. Father M style. One of them three ways is the only way this goes.”
Choke contemplated this for a while.
“I understand. I’m okay with Butters disappearing. In either of the other scenarios, Bob ceases to be of any further use to us,” Choke said.
“Good point, LT,” Peep said. She then turned back to Bob: “Ye hear that, Bob? The LT says we can do it yar way. But ye gotta understand, if we do it this way, then yar our man. No more of this negotiation bullshit. Ye tell us everything ye know and everything ye hear and ye do exactly what we say when we say it. We clear on that?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty fuckin clear that I’m fucked whichever way. And this after I was the one… me! I came to you and gave you Dixon! And now ye fuck me like this.”
“Bob. Come on, man. Don’t be like that,” Peep said, her tone light, as though she were dealing with a petulant child. “Ye came to us because ye saw which way the wind was blowing and ye wanted to get on the right side of things. And that was the right move. If ye hadn’t of done that, there’s no telling what all might’ve happened. Why, we mighta come right through ye like ye were just another one of the bad guys.”
Peep let that sit for a while before she continued:
“But, ye did the right thing and came to us. And because of that, we’re talking to ye here like this. Instead of doing it with ye hanging upside down in the church cellar. It’s a good thing, Bob. Don’t get that twisted. And the more ye help us, the more we can help you. And then ye’ll be on the right side of things, good and proper. And we’ll speak up for ye to whoever inquires. Father M. The Baron. Whoever.
“So that’s the deal, Bob. Ye come on board with us. Properly. Like a real member of the team. And then we’ll have yar back. So… what’s it gonna be?”
“You know what. I’m gonna help ye,” Bob said.
“Good. That’s good. Thank ye, Bob,” Peep said earnestly. Then, her manner slipped back to its razor’s edge:
“So. Now. Tell us all about Butters.”
Muse Vassal 