Damiynn
Fantasy Author
Please just look over.
Seeing lawmen crouched in front of a friend’s house at night with their guns drawn, makes you wonder what the hell is going on.
Pushing back my long coat, I uncovered the worn leather of my cross-draw rig, slung cavalry style, on my left hip. My SW model 3’s wooden grip glinted under the streetlamp’s light. I was hoping I wouldn’t need it.
The house that the two locals were crouched in front of belonged to a man I had known since boyhood.
This side of Denver was not as nice as some, but people weren’t shot first and asked questions later here either. This side of town was supposed to be civilized. Hell, there were even streetlights.
If I drew my weapon and used it here, my boss would chew my ass out again about doing so around the good citizens when I didn’t need to. I could hear his gruff growling in my head.
“Discretion Marshal Mollon! Denver isn’t Dodge City or Deadwood. Denver is modern. Modern cities don’t require gunfights or magical duels on the streets at the slightest provocation. We are supposed to be civilized, and city folks like to hear or read about gunfights. They do not want to participate in them.”
Coughing slightly, I let the two hunkered down local lawmen know I was behind them. They whipped their heads about at the sound but visibly relaxed when they saw the silver star pinned to my coat.
With a friendly gesture, I thumbed back the brim of my hat. “Can I help, gentlemen? I know the man who lives there.”
The older and more seasoned of the pair motioned me over. Casting a glance at the house, he said, “Maybe, Marshal. The fella inside, I think he is a trader of some sort, well, he killed a man in a drunken brawl. He also cut four more associates of the dead man within a few inches of their lives with a rune-marked blade. Their wounds won’t heal properly. We need to bring him in for questioning and figure out what kind of runes are on his knife so that a healer can save the others, but he won’t come out.”
My eyes flicked from the older officer and onto the younger one, assessing him. Unlike his partner, his features were an angry shade of red, and he had a death-like grip on his pistol. Questioning looked like the last thing on his mind.
Keeping my voice neutral, I said, “How about you let me take a stab at him? As I said, I know the man. We go back several years. He might surrender to me. Maybe, even before your partner does something unlawful, like filling him full of holes.”
The older lawman snapped his gaze towards his partner. Seeing the gun in his clenched fist, he gave him a disapproving look. Then, shaking his head reproachfully, he said, “Whatever works, Marshall. We just want to get to the bottom of this and save those other men.”
Nodding, I called out over the fence in a friendly tone, “Minor, can you hear me?”
I paused, hoping he would recognize my voice, then said, “There are police out here saying you were in a fracas earlier. It isn’t worth the fight you’ll get into with these fellows if you keep up these shenanigans. These lawmen don't have all the details yet about what happened. I would rather not see you dead for something that might not be your fault. How bout you toss out your weapon and surrender yourself into my custody? You can tell me your side, and I will see that you are treated fairly.”
No sounds came from the house. Unlike the others on this block, which were well kept and neat, Minor's house looked like it had fallen into disrepair. It definitely had seen better days.
A heavy clanking filled the air just as I was about to call out again. It sounded like someone tripping over a potbellied stove.
“Iiis that youuu M..Marshal Mollon?” called a slurred voice near one of the broken window panes. “I ssshouldn’t have to go anywhere! I didn’t do anyt’ing wrong!”
Shaking my head, I let out an exasperated sigh. I had warned Minor that drowning himself in a bottle every night would eventually get him into trouble. Nadine, bless her departed soul, wouldn’t want him living his life this way. He needed to get a better handle on his grief.
“Them men’s in that saloon Kaiden, I mean Mashal,” Minor called out through the broken window, “theyyy had it coming. Someone needed to shut their mouths and stop their hands. They were speaking badly to the ladies, and the one I stopped who started to pull a gun on me, well, he was abusing a squaw in a way that no man should have been doing to any woman.”
Immediately I felt my temper flare up in a flash of heat. It spread like wildfire through my body at Minor’s statement. Quickly I squashed it. My personal feelings had no place here.
Taking a deep breath, I said as jovially as I could manage, turning back to the two local lawmen. “He claims he did nothing wrong, gentlemen, and from what I just heard, I am not sure if he did.”
I saw the angry glowing eyes of the second lawman as his fingers tightened even more around his pistol’s grip. I wondered if the man Minor had killed or if his injured companions were his acquaintances.
“Who the hell cares about a damn squaw! Or how she was treated, Marshal!” he spat out the words like a curse. “No one gives a damn about what happens to one of them. He killed a white man over a damned injun, and he did it using magic. He turned him into ash Marshall with an electrical glyph, and now, he’s refusing to lower his defenses so we can arrest him. It ain’t right him defying the law or killing anyone over an injun.”
The first lawman must have been more observant. The look he flashed my way showed that he had seen what his partner had not in the light from the overhead streetlamp. Dropping his hand to his partner’s shoulder, he shot him a pointed look. The second lawman had not looked carefully at me.
Coughing, the old lawman flicked his eyes nervously between us. Then, he said quickly, in what I assumed was a calming manner, “And every witness said he used that glyph in self-defense Officer Payton.” The second cop grunted, then saw the alarmed look on his partner’s face.
Glancing upwards for the first time, he looked directly into my face. Recognition filled his eyes. I watched as the blood drained rapidly out of his face.
Something dangerous must have flickered in my eyes. The local lawman immediately skittered backward a few steps, and his pistol dropped like magic back into its holster.
Most in these parts knew me by sight. I tried not to influence it. However, reputations carried weight in the territories. Most people knew mine. They knew I was a half-blood, half Irish, and half Sioux. My reputation and actions showed that I was deadly with a gun or magic. It was also said I protected Indians just as fast as whites, and I upheld the law for all races.
The blood continued draining from the second lawman’s face until he was pale as a linen bed sheet. Then, he realized I had not drawn my gun. Slowly, almost deliberately, he slid his shaking hand away from the holster. As he turned his face away, I saw him swallow noticeably.
Keeping a tight grip on my temper at the mention of a squaw being assaulted and it not meaning anything, I let out another long breath. Slowly I counted to four. Then, as my anger faded, I moved my hand off the butt of my pistol. When had I put it there? I didn’t remember moving it.
Focusing my attention on the beaten-down house, I called out again, “Minor, one lawman thinks you might be innocent. The other one, well, I think he disagrees. He believes people should be allowed to abuse women just because of their heritage. How bout I come inside, and we’ll talk like gentlemen? We can determine together who is right here and who is wrong.”
“Iii don’t know, Kaiden, I mean Marshal.”
I turned again to the more sensible of the lawmen. “You said you had witnesses?”
“Yes, Marshal,” he answered, “and they said he did nothing wrong, said he was protecting that squaw and some other women from those men. A few said he was provoked into defending himself as five of them ganged up on him for speaking out.”
Seeing lawmen crouched in front of a friend’s house at night with their guns drawn, makes you wonder what the hell is going on.
Pushing back my long coat, I uncovered the worn leather of my cross-draw rig, slung cavalry style, on my left hip. My SW model 3’s wooden grip glinted under the streetlamp’s light. I was hoping I wouldn’t need it.
The house that the two locals were crouched in front of belonged to a man I had known since boyhood.
This side of Denver was not as nice as some, but people weren’t shot first and asked questions later here either. This side of town was supposed to be civilized. Hell, there were even streetlights.
If I drew my weapon and used it here, my boss would chew my ass out again about doing so around the good citizens when I didn’t need to. I could hear his gruff growling in my head.
“Discretion Marshal Mollon! Denver isn’t Dodge City or Deadwood. Denver is modern. Modern cities don’t require gunfights or magical duels on the streets at the slightest provocation. We are supposed to be civilized, and city folks like to hear or read about gunfights. They do not want to participate in them.”
Coughing slightly, I let the two hunkered down local lawmen know I was behind them. They whipped their heads about at the sound but visibly relaxed when they saw the silver star pinned to my coat.
With a friendly gesture, I thumbed back the brim of my hat. “Can I help, gentlemen? I know the man who lives there.”
The older and more seasoned of the pair motioned me over. Casting a glance at the house, he said, “Maybe, Marshal. The fella inside, I think he is a trader of some sort, well, he killed a man in a drunken brawl. He also cut four more associates of the dead man within a few inches of their lives with a rune-marked blade. Their wounds won’t heal properly. We need to bring him in for questioning and figure out what kind of runes are on his knife so that a healer can save the others, but he won’t come out.”
My eyes flicked from the older officer and onto the younger one, assessing him. Unlike his partner, his features were an angry shade of red, and he had a death-like grip on his pistol. Questioning looked like the last thing on his mind.
Keeping my voice neutral, I said, “How about you let me take a stab at him? As I said, I know the man. We go back several years. He might surrender to me. Maybe, even before your partner does something unlawful, like filling him full of holes.”
The older lawman snapped his gaze towards his partner. Seeing the gun in his clenched fist, he gave him a disapproving look. Then, shaking his head reproachfully, he said, “Whatever works, Marshall. We just want to get to the bottom of this and save those other men.”
Nodding, I called out over the fence in a friendly tone, “Minor, can you hear me?”
I paused, hoping he would recognize my voice, then said, “There are police out here saying you were in a fracas earlier. It isn’t worth the fight you’ll get into with these fellows if you keep up these shenanigans. These lawmen don't have all the details yet about what happened. I would rather not see you dead for something that might not be your fault. How bout you toss out your weapon and surrender yourself into my custody? You can tell me your side, and I will see that you are treated fairly.”
No sounds came from the house. Unlike the others on this block, which were well kept and neat, Minor's house looked like it had fallen into disrepair. It definitely had seen better days.
A heavy clanking filled the air just as I was about to call out again. It sounded like someone tripping over a potbellied stove.
“Iiis that youuu M..Marshal Mollon?” called a slurred voice near one of the broken window panes. “I ssshouldn’t have to go anywhere! I didn’t do anyt’ing wrong!”
Shaking my head, I let out an exasperated sigh. I had warned Minor that drowning himself in a bottle every night would eventually get him into trouble. Nadine, bless her departed soul, wouldn’t want him living his life this way. He needed to get a better handle on his grief.
“Them men’s in that saloon Kaiden, I mean Mashal,” Minor called out through the broken window, “theyyy had it coming. Someone needed to shut their mouths and stop their hands. They were speaking badly to the ladies, and the one I stopped who started to pull a gun on me, well, he was abusing a squaw in a way that no man should have been doing to any woman.”
Immediately I felt my temper flare up in a flash of heat. It spread like wildfire through my body at Minor’s statement. Quickly I squashed it. My personal feelings had no place here.
Taking a deep breath, I said as jovially as I could manage, turning back to the two local lawmen. “He claims he did nothing wrong, gentlemen, and from what I just heard, I am not sure if he did.”
I saw the angry glowing eyes of the second lawman as his fingers tightened even more around his pistol’s grip. I wondered if the man Minor had killed or if his injured companions were his acquaintances.
“Who the hell cares about a damn squaw! Or how she was treated, Marshal!” he spat out the words like a curse. “No one gives a damn about what happens to one of them. He killed a white man over a damned injun, and he did it using magic. He turned him into ash Marshall with an electrical glyph, and now, he’s refusing to lower his defenses so we can arrest him. It ain’t right him defying the law or killing anyone over an injun.”
The first lawman must have been more observant. The look he flashed my way showed that he had seen what his partner had not in the light from the overhead streetlamp. Dropping his hand to his partner’s shoulder, he shot him a pointed look. The second lawman had not looked carefully at me.
Coughing, the old lawman flicked his eyes nervously between us. Then, he said quickly, in what I assumed was a calming manner, “And every witness said he used that glyph in self-defense Officer Payton.” The second cop grunted, then saw the alarmed look on his partner’s face.
Glancing upwards for the first time, he looked directly into my face. Recognition filled his eyes. I watched as the blood drained rapidly out of his face.
Something dangerous must have flickered in my eyes. The local lawman immediately skittered backward a few steps, and his pistol dropped like magic back into its holster.
Most in these parts knew me by sight. I tried not to influence it. However, reputations carried weight in the territories. Most people knew mine. They knew I was a half-blood, half Irish, and half Sioux. My reputation and actions showed that I was deadly with a gun or magic. It was also said I protected Indians just as fast as whites, and I upheld the law for all races.
The blood continued draining from the second lawman’s face until he was pale as a linen bed sheet. Then, he realized I had not drawn my gun. Slowly, almost deliberately, he slid his shaking hand away from the holster. As he turned his face away, I saw him swallow noticeably.
Keeping a tight grip on my temper at the mention of a squaw being assaulted and it not meaning anything, I let out another long breath. Slowly I counted to four. Then, as my anger faded, I moved my hand off the butt of my pistol. When had I put it there? I didn’t remember moving it.
Focusing my attention on the beaten-down house, I called out again, “Minor, one lawman thinks you might be innocent. The other one, well, I think he disagrees. He believes people should be allowed to abuse women just because of their heritage. How bout I come inside, and we’ll talk like gentlemen? We can determine together who is right here and who is wrong.”
“Iii don’t know, Kaiden, I mean Marshal.”
I turned again to the more sensible of the lawmen. “You said you had witnesses?”
“Yes, Marshal,” he answered, “and they said he did nothing wrong, said he was protecting that squaw and some other women from those men. A few said he was provoked into defending himself as five of them ganged up on him for speaking out.”
