The scoundrels intent on eating Flint’s horse bared their gums to me, hissing like insects. They may have had five teeth between the three of them.
The stockiest ruffian kept two hands on the horse’s reins. The tall, skinny one stood along side the animal, while the short, wiry man clung to one of the reins as well. Flint’s poor horse bristled, and drummed each of its feet with nerves, ready to burst for freedom at a second’s notice.
“You lot git!” Yelled one of the men. “I ain’t warning ya again.”
“We really ought to leave,” Proctor insisted.
In all rationality, he was probably right, but I had a better idea.
“Fetch the pouch from the room, will you?” I said to Proctor.
Wrinkles formed on the bridge of his nose. “What, the gold?” He said. “Whatever for?”
“You men there,” I shouted at the brigands. “You want some money?”
“What are you planning?” Proctor said. “Tell me you’re not going to give them gold.”
“Gold?” The tall, skinny one heard Proctor. “You’ve gold?” The black smudges on his face made his pink protruding eyes all the more mutant in appearance.
“How much gold?” The stocky man asked.
“Tell you what,” I said to them, “I’ve got two coins with your name on them, if you hand me over that horse.”
I could read on the faces of the two skinnier men, they were surprised… in a good way. You’d be safe assuming they were keen on the offer. The stocky man, however, shook his head.
“You want this gallop,” the stocky man said, “it’ll cost ya six.”
Six gold coins? The idea of it even caused his own friends to gasp.
“Six,” I heard one of them whisper to their stout friend, “you soft? He’ll never go for it.”
“Adam, listen,” Proctor interrupted, “this isn’t what we should do. There’s a better way to handle this.”
Without another moment to contemplate, the loud patter of multiple horses erupted from a few hundred meters away, to the east of us. Ten riders on heavy horses charged into the center of Moonlight, mud kicked up all around them.
They wore purple and silver leather with armor. They each had an elaborate crown insignia emblazoned across their chest. Metal, wide brimmed helmets on their heads resembled the kind firefighters wear. They each held spears, and had swords sheathed by their sides. Every one of them had thick facial hair, and faces bronzed in stone cold seriousness.
The brutes clutching Flint’s horse suddenly didn’t seem so brutish any more. Two of the three bowed to the riders as they came to a stop in front of us. The stocky man stood his ground, pretending not to be intimidated, and keeping his firm grasp on the horse’s reins.
With the arrival of the riders, several locals emerged from their huts, and converged slowly at the front of the inn.
I tossed a look of concern toward Proctor, and he didn’t seem overly concerned, but merely gave his shoulders a bit of a shrug.
The fancy riders rode into the village two abreast. Riders one and two carried purple and silver flags. When they all came to a stop, riders three and four were stopped right in front of us. Horse five’s rider leaned forward in his saddle, and I noticed he was the only one not carrying a spear as he rode. He looked down at me from his high horse in a way that made the old saying of that phrase make sense. So, that’s where that came from, I remember thinking. He just had an air of superiority about him, and you could tell the others on horseback were under his charge. For starters, he was the only one looking around, while the rest of the men stared straight ahead.
“You there,” the important man said to the wiry fellow attempting to take Flint’s horse, “this village is called Moonlight, yes?”
The question caused the stocky man to scrunch up his face. “You know what place this is,” he said to the important man. “We’ve seen you around here before, ain’t we? More than once. You’re Kings House men, ain’t ya?”
“Speak when spoken to,” said the important man.
Then he turned his attention to me.
I couldn’t help but notice in my peripherals at least two dozen locals dressed in dark cloaks floated into view from around the stone huts. A lot of dirty faces staring at the fancy men on horseback, and I could tell it made the armored, spear holding men nervous. Even their horses seemed a bit agitated.
“You,” the important man said to me. “What is your name?”
“He ain’t a Moonlighter,” interjected the stocky man. “He just got here, didn’t he?”
It caused the important man to raise an eyebrow. “Is that so, stranger?” He said to me. “What do they call you?”
“You can call me Adam,” I answered. “Who’s asking?”
The important man guffawed. “Can you not tell from our dress?” He said, stunned. “How would you not recognize the mark of your master, King Clackton?”
“King Clackton?” I said, attempting to sound as unimpressed as possible.
“Ain’t our king,” the stocky man said, continuing to stick his two cents into the conversation.
His words caused the important man to scoff. “Perhaps this one is in the mood for a flogging,” he said. Then he raised his arm as if giving a command.
As soon as he did this, another stocky man stepped from behind one of the huts. He had thick brown hair, and a black beard and mustache. He was covered in bear fur, head to toe.
“You touch him,” the thick man said, “you will meet your god.”
He made a clicking noise with his mouth, and then the locals in dark clothing went from two dozen in view to three dozen in an instant. I had the feeling there could be fifty people in Moonlight ready to swamp these fancy riders at a moment’s notice if that’s how one wanted it. None of them appeared armed, but you couldn’t be sure about what rested beneath their cloaks.
The fancy riders likely knew they were in hostile territory, and easily overrun if they overstepped.
Still, the important man came across as more annoyed by a nuisance, than he was genuinely afraid for his safety.
“Yaz,” barked the stocky man holding Flint’s horse, toward the thick man coming to his defense, “you keep out of it.”
The man referred to has ‘Yaz’ ignored the instruction. He sneered at the important man as he walked closer to his horse.
“Why you here?” Yaz asked King Clackton’s man. “You’ve got no business in Moonlight. Stay in Kings House why don’t ya? Back where you belong.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The important man struck a more conciliatory tone. “We were riding through,” he said. “A pressing matter came to light however. One necessitating a conversation with your mayor. Judith, where is she?”
Yaz glanced around. “She ain’t here,” he said. “Now you best leave before-”
“Before what?” The important man said, defiantly.
Yaz placed a palm on the side of the man’s horse. “Before you can’t,” he said, in a low growl.
The important man thought about it for a moment. Then he turned his attention back toward me. “And him?” He said to Yaz, pointing in my direction. “I’ve never seen him before.”
Yaz pointed his sneer toward me as well. “Now that you mention it,” he said. “Neither have I. But, that’s a talk you’ve no need to stay for.”
As I kept my attention on the two men, I clicked [+] to check their scouting numbers.
I checked King Clackton’s man first.
[Tools:
Hitting 20
Power 20
Fielding 30
Running 30
Throwing 30
OFP = 26]
Then there was Yaz.
[Tools:
Hitting 35
Power 30
Fielding 30
Running 35
Throwing 35
OFP = 33]
Yaz’s numbers weren’t exactly stellar, if I had the scale right, but apparently there was more to work with than pretty much anyone else I’d checked up until then.
Of course, I wouldn’t be doing my due diligence if I didn’t also check the numbers on the rest of King Clackton’s people.
[Riders One and Two, OFP = 26 and 28
Riders Three and Four, OFP = 30 and 28
Rider Six, OFP = 26
Riders Seven and Eight, OFP = both 32
Riders Nine and Ten, OFP = 34 and 30]
No one who really blew the doors off, and it was just as well given these were people from somewhere else. I had no idea if Kings House was a place that was anywhere close to Moonlight, but then again I wasn’t even sure how far afield I was allowed to scout in order to bring in players to play for our village. It wasn’t something to ask Proctor about right in this tenuous minute.
Yaz held firm while his silent army glared boulder sized holes through King Clackton’s riders. Seeing he wasn’t going to be speaking with the village mayor, Judith as he’d hoped, he made another motion with his arm as a signal to his men. They were preparing to ride out of the village, the same way they’d entered.
“You see Judith,” the important man said to Yaz. “Pass along the message, his highness seeks to discuss recent developments.”
“Developments,” Yaz repeated.
“This ‘league’,” the important man said, with a tone that made it sound like he barely stomach the word. “This thing they’re calling base… ball, is it?”
That definitely caused my ears to perk up. But, I opted to stay quiet.
“Yes,” Yaz said, in answer to the fancy man. “We know of it. We’re dealing with it. We will deal with it.”
He said it in such an ominous way.
“As you were then,” the important man said, his voice dripping with condescension. Then he turned his horse, as did the rest of his riders, and away they went, galloping out of the village while the rest of us looked on.
With King Clackton’s people gone, and the road properly chewed up, many of the locals slunk back to their huts. The three men keeping Flint’s horse stayed where they were, and this Yaz guy took a definite interest in me.
“Alright, tell it,” Yaz said to me. He marched directly at me, and in my mind I took it as a test. If I were to flinch he’d take that information on board. I didn’t take the bait, and kept my gaze focused sharply upon him.
“Who are you?” He said. “And who’s your friend?”
“Adam’s my name,” I said. “This is Proctor. I take it you’re Yaz.”
“So it is,” he said. “That’s my brother there, Taz.” He pointed to the stocky man by the horse.
Yaz and Taz? Ooookay.
“And the other two?” I said.
“Who is you to ask?” Yaz said. “Why you here?”
“That baseball you speak of,” I said. “That’s why. It’s why we’re both here.”
“I should’ve known,” Yaz said. “Evil in our midst. Ya won’t be in our midst for long.”
“Evil?” I said. “Hardly. Baseball’s going to save your town. Er, your village.”
Yaz snickered. “Is that so?” He said. “How you figure that?”
Without a shred of irony, in full earnestness, I launched into my idea of what I thought could be accomplished if Moonlight could field a winning baseball team. Certainly, even this Yaz fellow could appreciate he was just as subject to whatever the System wanted as anyone else.
“Answer me this,” Yaz said. Having heard enough of the sales pitch. “You win at this baseball, you get power over the other villages, or what? You get to tell those like the ones from Kings House what’s what?”
I glanced at Proctor, and he managed a slight nod, admitting there was some truth to Yaz’s notion.
“You do,” I said to the man.
He was initially pleased by this, but he had misgivings.
“Why again are you the boss in this?” He said. “You should have to go through me.”
“You or Mayor Judith?” I said.
“Right.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “This is how the System wants it,” I said.
“But, we can’t speak to them,” Yaz said.
“Only through me.”
I could see by the man’s scowl he was angered by this idea.
“Look, for now, as in this exact moment, you can merely think of me as a friendly face trying to buy a horse,” I said. “We can deal with the baseball team stuff later. Fair?”
Then I remembered, Yaz hadn’t been part of the earlier exchange.
“Buy a horse?” Yaz said. “You mean this one here?” And he pointed to Flint’s poor horse still being held by the three idiots.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve offered two gold.”
Yaz nearly fell backwards. He held out to hands as if trying to push away an invisible force. “Hold on,” he said, and he pointed at his brother, Taz. “You offered him two currency? For this gallop here?”
“Two coins,” I said. “Yes.”
Proctor touched my arm, and spoke to me softly. “They call their money ‘currency’ here,” he said. “I should’ve mentioned.”
“Two currency for the horse,” I said to Yaz.
“No, no, no,” said stocky Taz. “Brother, I told ‘em six. Don’t go taking two.”
“Adam,” Proctor whispered to me. “This isn’t at all necessary. Try to end this conversation if you can.”
“Six?” Yaz said. “You ill? We’ll take four.”
“Three,” I countered with. “That’s my friend’s horse, I really shouldn’t have to pay anything.”
“That’s just it,” Proctor said to me, again low enough the others couldn’t hear. “You don’t.”
Yaz smiled, and revealed he had more teeth than the rest of them put together. “Three’s a deal,” he said. I didn’t want to shake his hand after, but he pretty much insisted.
After we paid Yaz a few minutes later, he did another click thing with his mouth, and he and the others left the horse with Proctor and me, and began marching off to another part of the village.
“We’re gonna talk about this baseball thing,” Yaz said to me. “I’m gonna want my piece.”
“Understood,” I said. And, I’m pretty certain that was a complete lie. If it worked to get him, his brother, and the rest out of our midst in the moment, so be it.
We watched them disappear a few hundred feet off. I held Flint’s horse’s reins, and had no idea what I was going to do with the creature.
“How am I going to keep him safe so that this doesn’t happen again?” I said.
Proctor shook his head. “I told you not to spend any coins on this,” he said. “Now you're down to 35. You have to understand, anything that would’ve happened to your android’s horse, the System would cover for that. You lose this horse, or if something terrible were to happen, the System would simply replace it with another horse. I'm certain this is how it's done.”
“Right, well, maybe I should be reimbursed instead, or given credit by the System,” I said.
“For their not replacing the horse which you did not allow to be taken?” Proctor said.
“Exactly,” I said, “because now they don’t have to replace something, since I'd saved it in advance.”
It made sense in my head. Proctor didn’t seem all that impressed. I tried to perk him up by telling him about Yaz’s slightly better baseball talent ratings than others I’d seen. That didn’t seem to do much for him either.
“This Yaz individual is proving to be a bit of a concern,” Proctor said.
“A ‘concern’ is a certain way of putting it. Not sure it’s the word I’d use,” I said. “I got organized crime vibes off of him. I don’t know if you had the same impression.”
“We’re going to have to be careful,” Proctor said. “Wherever money goes, trouble surely follows. Yaz represents trouble.”
“Yes, that’s definitely true,” I agreed.
“And, I don’t know if you realize it yet, just how much more money baseball’s going to bring to this place,” Proctor said. “Just how much more wealthy some of the folks around here are going to be. There’s big changes afoot. I hope you can appreciate this, and what it means in terms of dealing with certain types of people. I fear Yaz might not be the worst of it.”
He was likely spot on that I probably didn’t appreciate the potential for problems raised by money, not right in the moment Proctor was pointing it out anyway. But, it was something I’d come to appreciate soon enough.