The Founding of Tiranis, CH 04 (Patreon)

Three months after they had arrived, Ellarkay saw the dust cloud in the distance he’d been expecting. He stood.

“Children!” He waited until they stopped their game and looked at him. They had been replaying the attack again, only now one of the human boys had tied branches together around his arm, a stand-in for Leroy’s contraption. He wondered for a moment if one of the adults had explained to them how only Furkind had powers and the humans the devices, but right now it was irrelevant. “Go. Go to your parents or your caretaker.” None of them moved, face and ears quizzical. “Now!”

They all ran off, except for Hermine, who stood, looking at him and began trembling.

He went to her, crouched and took her hands in his, squeezing them gently. “Remember when I said that everything on my land was mine?”

She sniffed and nodded.

“And that I keep what’s mine safe?”

She nodded again.

“If I’m going to keep you safe, I need you to go back to your—” he searched for a term he could use. “—village. You’ll be able to come back, but for now, you need to be away.”

She looked over her shoulder. The lynx couldn’t tell if she made out the cloud, it was still far, but when she looked at him again, she hugged him.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then ran off.

Ellarkay went inside his shack and armed himself. He crisscrossed two belts over his chest, their holsters under his arms and had reworked his belt, adding three holsters to it, just for this moment.

He’d known his refugees’ previous owner wouldn’t let the matter drop, not after one of the men had escaped, reporting what had happened. Slaves were just too valuable, even if none of them had abilities. And the message it sent to the other slaves, if he couldn’t retrieve these, would just cause more of them to try to escape.

He didn’t bother taking extra bullets, he didn’t want this to take so long he’d have to reload. He stepped outside, and his nearby friends whispered to him they would help.

It took them longer than he expected to become visible. When they finally did, he understood why. He counted twenty horses, much more than he’d expected. He looked up to the clouds and asked the lightning for help.

It didn’t reply.

He stepped away from his hut, and he had to hold back his fire. It worried. He told it to remain in the hearth for now.

He planted his feet on the ground. His hands were at his side. He was calm and relaxed, but ready to act the moment he had to.

The lead was human, as were most of the people with him. He was tall and muscular. Calculating eyes looked at the lynx from under the brim of his hat. The saddle had two rifles attached to it.

Ellarkay inclined his head in greeting as the man stopped his horse before him. “Good day to you,” he said. “You’re trespassing on my land. I’m gonna have to ask you to be on your way.”

The man looked around. “Where’s everyone?” He looked down at the lynx. “I was told you had a dozen armed men keeping watch over the slaves.”

Ellarkay smiled. “’Fraid you’ve been told wrong. It’s just me here.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “And who are you?”

“He’s the Lord Lightning,” a woman said.

Ellarkay spun around.

One of the horsemen drew his gun, and a strong gust of wind threw him off his horse.

“What do you think you’re doing, woman?” he asked.

She was standing in the doorway, pointing his old rifle at the horseman. “Hermine told us someone was coming. I’m not going to let you handle them alone.”

The horseman laughed. “You’re letting a woman fight? A slave woman at that?”

Ellarkay made fists. He hated the concept of slavery. The idea that someone could claim to own someone else repulsed him to his core. “Leave here, woman. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Like hell, it doesn’t! They’re coming for us. I’m not going to cower in fear anymore.”

With a curse, the lynx stormed to her, thunder echoing his mood. He queried it, but no, Lightning still wasn’t interested in taking part. When he stood before her, he placed a hand on the muzzle of the rifle and pushed it down.

“You can’t force me to stay out of this,” she hissed.

He studied her face, seeing determination covering her fear. “Lady Abigail.”

She startled at his use of her name. He’d learned of it within days of their arrival, but had refused to use it, to use any of their names. He hadn’t wanted them to be people, just the refugees that had forced themselves in his life. But now she was here, putting her life in danger for her people. He had to give her the respect that act required.

“If you die here, who will look after your people? You led them out of slavery, to me. You begged me for protection. Now let me protect you, and them.”

“But there’s so many of them,” she insisted.

“You’ll remember that I’m not without my own friends. I can handle them.” He looked at the rifle. “And this thing hasn’t been able to fire in years.”

“But what if you die? What will happen to us?”

“They won’t get to you or your people. I promise. Even if I die, I will keep them from you.”

She frowned. “How can you be certain of that?”

He grinned and puffed out his chest. “I am Ellarkay Etsevn. I have faced down armies, taken down kingdoms. Twenty men don’t worry me.”

Her eyes went wide, then narrowed in disbelief. “You’re not some story hero.”

He shrugged, but his smile remained. “Never the less. I’m not worried. Go back to your people. Have them extinguish the fires.”

“Why?”

“Because if I do die here, the one thing I will no longer be able to do, is keep them from consuming your homes.”

“Fine.” She glared at him. “But if you die, I am going to have words with you.”

“Then I’ll do my best not to die.” He escorted her to the side of his shack, then waited until it would hide her from the men. He strode back to deal with this problem, kicking some of the pieces of wood the children had left lying about out of his way.

He set himself before the human. “Now, I asked you to move along. I don’t want trouble, but I’m not going to tolerate trespassers.”

The human laughed. All but one of his followers laughed along with him. “Old cat, do you have any idea who I am?”

Ellarkay studied him, then shook his head.

“I’m Charles of the Yorks.”

The lynx shook his head again. “Can’t say I’ve heard the name before, but I have been keeping to my own for a long time now.”

“I hunted and killed Braso.”

“Who’s that?”

The human stared at him in disbelief. “He robbed a dozen trains in the north country; everyone has heard of that.”

Ellarkay’s ears tilted. “They have trains again? I hadn’t heard.” He tried to remember the last time he’d been on a train, but it had been so long ago he couldn’t.

“Again? You daft old cat?”

The lynx nodded and smiled. “That could be. They say spending too much time alone isn’t good for the mind.” He looked at the people before him. “Now, will you be moving along?”

“No, old cat. I’m being paid to bring the slaves back, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Ellarkay sighed. “Was afraid you’d say that.” He placed a hand on the horse’s muzzle. “I’m sorry. I wish I could speak your tongue. I’d tell you to run fast and hard as far from here as you can. You’re just an animal. You don’t deserve their fate.”

He took a step back, and fire raced from the hearth, jumping from one piece of wood to the other. When it ran out, it jumped to the dry grass, and before anyone had time to react, the horse was on fire. The rider jumped off, but the fire followed him. His cries joined those of the horse as he tried, and failed, to put the fire out.

In the chaos the fire caused, Ellarkay emptied two revolvers, downing a man with each bullet. The wind took care of two more, whirling around them, kicking up sand and choking them with it.

He dropped the guns and pulled out two more. He grabbed one of the horse’s reign and kept it between him and the other men. Shots sounded, and the horse jerked, then fell down. Ellarkey ran for another of the horses, the only things offering him cover, and bullets struck the ground around him.

The thunder and lightning struck in unison.

When his ears stopped ringing, the only sound was that of the horses. Four of the men had been close together, and they had died together, their bodies charred black.

He saw one other standing, the last of them, who was staring at his smoking companions. He noticed Ellarkay as the lynx raised a revolver, but instead of running, or raising his own gun, the man threw it to the ground, then raised his hands. A moment later, he dropped to his knees.

Ellarkay stood before him, gun pointed at his head. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”

The man spoke, but the lynx didn’t understand him. For a moment, he thought it sounded familiar, that’s he’d spoken it himself at one time, a very long time ago. He remembered a large body of water and that fighting and carnage waited at their destination. He’d had to learn that language because it was what was spoken there.

He shoved the encroaching memories away. “I don’t understand you.”

The man looked up, pleading with his eyes. “I…give…Lord Tiranis…” The rest was incomprehensible.

Ellarkay crouched before him. “Do you understand me?”

The man nodded.

“But you don’t speak this language?”

“Little,” the man replied.

The lynx picked up the man’s gun, checked the cylinder. It was full. He smelled it. “You didn’t fire on me. Why?”

“You Tiranis.”

“What’s that?”

The man slowly reached under his shirt and pulled out a chain. On it hung a lightning bolt.

Ellarkay shook his head and laughed. “What’s your name?”

“Keaghan.”

“I suggest you leave, Keaghan.” He stood and holstered his revolver.

“No. Me, yours.”

“No.” Ellarkay indicated the pendant. “I don’t know what that means to you, but it has nothing to do with me.”

Keaghan shook his head vehemently. “I yours.”

“You’re not mine. You’re not anyone’s. Go home, whereever that is. Go to your family. I’m sure they miss you.”

“Here.” Keaghan indicated the ground where they stood, then the Ellarkay’s shack and beyond that. “I protect.”

The lynx threw his hands in the air. “Fine, do what you want.” He turned and headed for the village, to let them know it was over.

Why did they keep doing that? If it wasn’t someone looking to be protected, it was someone wanting to serve him. Hadn’t he left all that behind? Wasn’t that why he’d come here in the first place? Hadn’t anyone gotten the memo?

    *

Before winter came, the villagers were able to build enough houses for everyone. It turned out Keaghan had worked wood before, and he was able to ensure the buildings were solid. When Ellarkay let the wind off its leash, it expressed its gratitude by almost blowing down his shack.

That first winter was hard. They lost two of the elderly women, and one hunter, killed by a boar. Ellarkay tried to let them live or die on their own, but each time he hardened his resolve, he’d notice one of the children trying to play, or worse, digging in the snow to pull out a dead flower and eat it. He shared the result of his hunt with them more often than not. And in return, they treated him with more respect.

Every few months, a group would come and try to reclaim the villagers, but Ellarkay, Keaghan, and once he taught them how to shoot, some of the men from the village kept everyone safe. Their incursions only served to provide the community with more weapons, bullets, horses for labor, and gold.

They gave Ellarkay the gold, and since he had no idea what to do with it, it went into the trunk with the rest. The melted mass of gold slowly getting buried.

Over the winter, Keaghan learned the language, and he settled in with Lady Abigail. Toward the end of their second summer, she gave him a son and a daughter. Keaghan had wanted to name his son Ellarkay, but the lynx forbid it. No one should ever have to bear a name such as his. They decided to name him Ranis, and her Tyr.

Try as he might, he could never get them to stop calling him Lord Lightning, or sometime Lord Tiranis. He’d complained to the fire that if they thought him a Lord, how was it that none of them obeyed him on this? The fire hadn’t commented. It didn’t concern with things such as title.

Many of the women in the village offered themselves to him, human and Furkind, but he declined them. He’d spent so long alone that the pleasure of the flesh no longer held any sway over him. And he was much too old to raise another family. He’s sired plenty of children over his long years. He was done with that.