Osman sat and smoked as Ngozi, and the other villagers frantically paced around the village. The sun had set hours ago and still no sign of Thomas or Sal’é. Ngozi had pleaded with the Chief to leave again on his own, but the Chief forbade it after Thomas’ disappearance. Osman the whole time waited; he had no doubt that Thomas was fine. He even told the Chief that Thomas would return with Sal’é.
Eventually the villagers perked themselves up. Ngozi especially was extremely cheerful as the whole village raced out into the jungle. In a few minutes they returned cheering and whooping carrying Thomas and Sal’é. They threw them high into the air before catching them and spinning them around. Osman smiled as he watched Thomas be cheered on for the first time in his life. In just the few days he had known him, Osman had watched Thomas plant the seeds to become his own person, not tied down by those who raised him or those he idolized.
The whole village erupted into a party that lasted many hours. Food and wine were shared amongst the villagers and the lawmen, as a few villagers beat heavily on sets of drums. The women began to chant and sing to the rhythmic drumming, as the men began to dance around the large fire. Their shadows danced too, always mimicking the dancing men as they moved in front of the flames.
Ngozi pulled Thomas into the massive dance, quickly showing him the few simple moves before they both continued to dance on their own. Sal’é shared a tight hug with the Chief before standing at his side and singing with the other villager women.
Osman approached the Chief, still smoking as he did. He looked at Sal’é then back at the chief, noticing their side hug.
“Must be nice to have your daughter back sir,” Osman said as he bowed his head to the chief and began walking over to the dancing Ngozi and Thomas. The chief simply smiled back at Osman as Sal’é gave her father a confused look.
Osman approached the two dancing young men, Ngozi and Thomas, before placing his hand on Ngozi’s shoulder. The young man turned to see Osman and gave him a drunken hug. He tried to kiss Osman, but the old man held Ngozi’s face back.
“We got your sister back, I believe we had a deal,” Osman said to the young man. Ngozi stopped for a moment, hiccupped, and then laughed.
“I am a man of my word, tomorrow morning I’ll head out with you,” Ngozi drunkenly slurred back to Osman. The old man smiled and nodded at Ngozi before turning away. Osman returned to the stump he was sitting at and continued to watch the party.
Thomas would dance and then drink, then dance and then drink. He had never drunk before so he did not know what to expect. As the hours went on, Thomas felt nothing as he shot back glasses upon glasses of wine. He still had fun as he danced and laughed with the villagers, but drunk he was not.
In the early hours of the morning, as the sun began to rise, the party finally began to die down. Drunken villagers stumbled to their huts or just passed out cold around the fire. Even the fire began to wane in those early hours. Osman too had fallen asleep on the stump. Thomas still danced with Ngozi who was barely able to keep himself standing between his drunken stupor and his tiredness. One of the villagers, who had passed out playing the drums, snored himself awake. He meagerly pulled himself from the seat and began to drunkenly walk away from it.
Thomas heard a sharp whistle, before watching an arrow pierce through the drummer’s chest. The man gripped the arrow tip peaking out from his chest, before falling to his knees and slumping over. Just as he fell, a volley of arrows came forth from the dark jungle. Many villagers were hit as the whole village erupted into a crazed panic. Men rushed to get their weapons, only to be met by an arrow as they attempted to charge out.
Osman ducked behind his stump and quickly drew his pistol. He began firing wildly into the jungle, sparing his shots as villagers passed in front of him. The chief began a war call, a loud whooping that the warriors mimicked back to him.
Thomas rushed out towards the jungle, the arrows that would have been piercing him were being burned like the bullet. Once Thomas got about thirty yards from the village, he reared both his arms far back like a set of wings, and then forcefully clapped them. A wave of black flames erupted from his clapping hands, spreading to the width of the clearing in a matter of seconds as it blazed at the tree line.
The fire swept into the forest lighting most of it ablaze with black flames. Thomas turned back and ran towards the village as the fire dissipated. The arrows did not return, instead a large yell could be heard from at least twenty men, who then charged from the trees. Thomas turned only to see the men already passing him, in seconds the mass of warriors were in between him and the village.
Thomas watched as the tribesmen charged, only to be met with a returning charge from the villagers. Men and woman alike charged at the warriors bearing anything they could use as a weapon. The two sides clashed in a violent brawl that immediately began soaking the grass below with crimson blood. The Ka’lie warriors were winning, though outnumbered they were much better in battle. One warrior would take on two to three villagers at a time, fending them off and often killing all of them.
Osman sprang from his stump and ran out into the ensuing clash. He aimed his pistol at the attacking warriors and with deadly precision he fired into the skulls of six soldiers in swift succession. Osman began reloading his pistol, as a shot rang out from the jungle. Five outlaws stepped out from the dark jungle, firing their pistols or lever action rifles into the crowded battlefield.
Thomas noticed the men the moment the first shot rang out, spinning on his heels and aiming his finger gun at the outlaw the farthest away. He shot a small ball of fire that when it collided with the man, erupted into a large flame burning him alive. Thomas had a flash of the screams he heard in his visions, before hearing the screams of the villagers and shaking off the scare.
Thomas waved his hand from the man he had just shot towards the rest of the outlaws, as the flames followed his hand from the first outlaw quickly engulfing the rest of the outlaws in a large black blaze. The men collapsed in the flames as Thomas retracted them, the flames simply disappearing off the ground and the men. They lay there groaning in agony as Thomas turned to the battlefield and set off.
He charged into the battlefield; his hands ignited. He began chopping and punching the Ka’lie warriors, burning them as he hit them. One warrior attempted to stab Thomas with his spear, only for it to pass right through the newly appeared flames on Thomas’ chest. The warrior sat in disbelief for a moment before Thomas decked the man in his jaw with his flaming fists.
As Thomas and Osman continued fighting with the villagers, the tide of the battle turned. Soon the Ka’lie numbers were dwindling to only a handful of warriors. The outlaws showed no sign of returning to the battle, and slowly more men and women from the village arrived with actual weapons to fight off the attackers.
As the final Ka’lie warrior fell, the villagers let out a victorious cheer. They began dragging the bodies of their clansmen towards the village. Weeping could be heard as families found out how badly they had been torn apart by the battle. Osman and Thomas watched from the outside of the village.
“Who were the outlaws?” Osman coldly asked Thomas as they continued watching the villagers slowly mourn and begin the process of cleaning up the battle.
“Nobodies, one of ‘em said they worked for somebody though,” Thomas flatly replied.
“Said his name was Six Shooter Slick, ring a bell?” he finished. Osman turned to Thomas, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped.
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“Six Shooter Slick?” he eagerly responded.
“That’s what he said,” Thomas quickly shot back.
“Slick and I were on the gang with Wyatt together,” Osman began. Thomas turned to him, his eyes now widening as the old man licked his lips before continuing.
“I bet he knows where to find Wyatt, they were real close back in the day,” Osman finished as he set out into the village. Thomas followed close behind. Osman saw the Chief and Sal’é crouched over something, both crying horribly.
The two lawmen rushed into a small hustle over towards the Chief and Sal’é. Osman saw in the arms of the Chief, Ngozi. Ngozi had an arrow deep in his abdomen, he coughed up blood as he tried to breathe. Sal’é and the Chief both screamed as they cried. Ngozi smiled and tried to say something to them only to cough up more blood. The Chief turned to see the lawmen approaching.
“I am deeply sorry, Ngozi cannot be your tracker, I’m sorry about the deal you made it cannot be fulfilled.” The Chief sobbed to the lawmen.
“Wait you mean there isn’t anyone else?” Thomas asked in a panic.
“Thomas, quiet. We cannot expect anything else from these people right now, let them grieve.” Osman snapped at Thomas as he smacked the young man’s shoulder. Osman turned back to face the Chief.
“I am deeply sorry for your loss, we shall be on our way now,” Osman bowed before the Chief, hitting Thomas so he did the same, before turning and walking towards their bags by the stump. The two men picked up their bags and began heading for the jungle from where the attackers came.
“They said they were from Agnan,” Sal’é called out to the lawmen as they slowly neared the jungle.
“It’s only a day’s travel, it’s almost directly north follow the energies they do not lie,” she finished as Thomas and Osman entered the jungle. They both stopped and turned back and waved to the villagers before heading deeper into the dark jungle.
The two lawmen walked through the humid jungle for hours, never once picking up on any energies. Osman had fished a compass from his bag and was using it to keep them going north. Slowly the sun made it halfway through its climb, and the men still felt no closer to the village than before. Eventually Osman stopped walking, he bent down over his knees and began breathing heavily. Thomas stopped once he noticed and ran back to Osman.
“You okay Osman?” he frantically asked as he came up to the old man.
“Yea I’m fine, it’s just hot out here is all. What do you say we stop for a few hours and keep going later on once it cools off?” Osman asked Thomas, still trying to catch his breath as he did. Thomas found it odd that Osman was too hot, he felt no such thing.
He’s just old, heat gets to him easier, I guess. Thomas thought.
Thomas set up a small campsite while Osman rested on a log and caught his breath. It wasn’t long before he was smoking, something Thomas found himself joining the old man in. They sat around and ate some of the rations Osman had packed for a few minutes before Osman set out his sleeping back and began to take a nap. Thomas too dozed off while they sat there, only awaking to the sudden emergence of a new energy.
Thomas woke up suddenly, focused on the energy. He could tell it was a person, it was coming from where they had come from but not much beyond that. Thomas went to wake Osman but he could hear movements in the jungle, whoever the energy belonged to was already too close.
Thomas ignited his hands and waited as the energy neared. He looked up into the trees to see a shadowy figure racing through them. The figure began dropping down the trees once it was over Thomas. Thomas readied himself only to be utterly dumbfounded to see Sal’é emerge from the trees.
Sal’é dropped down into the makeshift campsite before noticing Thomas’ readied stance. She laughed before covering her mouth.
“Sorry to scare you, I did not know how far you two had gotten today,” She mewed. Thomas retracted the flames on his hands and sighed.
“You didn’t scare me, I just umm… wanted to try and scare you,” Thomas stuttered back to the young woman. She laughed some more before sitting down next to Thomas.
“Why are you here? Did we forget something?” Thomas asked Sal’é as she began picking at one of the opened cans of beans.
“Only your deal with my brother,” she simply replied as she ate a spoonful of the beans.
“But your brother is… umm...” Thomas began before mumbling off to himself.
“Dead?” Sal’é replied.
“That’s even more the reason to fill out his deal, my father agreed do not worry. Ngozi’s last wish was for me to help you two.” She finished as she set the can of beans back down, a disgusted look on her face. Thomas smiled at Sal’é before crawling over to the sleeping Osman.
“Hey Osman,” Thomas whispered to the old man as he began to shake him gently.
“Don’t touch me, I heard, she’s gonna track for us since her brother bit the dust, now let me sleep,” Osman mumbled as he rolled around in his sleeping bag. Thomas and Sal’é laughed at the old man before they both laid down from where they sat.
Thomas lay there thinking about the men that he had killed. The thoughts of their groans made he want to vomit. He remained calm, trying to forget about it. Every time his mind would wander to something else, a scream would echo in the back of his head. Thomas rationalized it to himself; he was a lawman they were outlaws it was simple.
Outlaw, lawman, good, bad, free, slave, its all just placeholders until you die. Only then are you really something. The words of Morgan rang out in Thomas’ head. He could hear Sal’é quietly crying, he was sure about her brother’s death. Thomas thought about how much courage it took to leave home hours after her brother’s death. He shook his head and sat up, Sal’é too sat up after Thomas.
“Osman let’s get going, Slick might be gone by now.” Thomas angrily said to the sleeping old man. Thomas stood up and walked over to Osman. He bent down on his knees and began violently shaking the old man.
“Waaakkeeee Upppp,” Thomas monotonously said to Osman. Osman began to wake up and tried to stop Thomas from shaking him but when the young man did Osman was already up.
“The sun has gone down, it’s cooler now let’s go,” Thomas pleaded with Osman as he slowly sat up and sparked a cigarette.
“Alright, I’m a getting,” Osman groaned as he stood up. He slowly rolled up his sleeping bag and stuffed it back into his bag. He threw his bag over his shoulder, as did Thomas, and the trio set off further into the jungle. They began moving through the jungle at a much faster pace with the help of Sal’é’s knowledge. In just a few hours they came to the edge of the jungle, where a large grassland began. They could see far out in the grassland, small flickering lights of civilization.
“That’s Agnan ahead,” Sal’é confidently said. Osman fished into his bag and took out a small pair of binoculars. He looked through them at the distant village.
“Maybe three, no four hundred inhabitants.” Osman mumbled as he scanned the village.
“There’s a lot of huts, couple big firepits. If one firepit accommodates around fifty tribal people, how many would dance around seven?” Osman asked as he turned to look at Thomas and Sal’é. Osman tossed the binoculars to Thomas who then looked through them at the town.
Thomas saw a wide array of huts, many more than any village he had ever seen. Much like Osman said, there was a large open area in the center of the town that had at least seven fire pits. Thomas saw the little roads of the village were filled with inhabitants. Men, women, children, even armed warriors, walked through the village.
“Even without a party these guys are up late,” Osman muttered.
“That’s not all of them, most are asleep, those are the slavers.” Sal’é replied coldly. Thomas could see the cages scattered around the firepits, most containing other tribesmen from the various tribes.
“Why do they enslave their own people?” Thomas asked as he pulled his eyes from the binoculars. He tossed them to Osman who continued to scan the town.
“Their efficient warriors, they always lived by the sword.” Sal’é began as she stared out at the flickering lights of the village.
“For generations, the Ka’lie were the undisputed rulers of all of Madibya. Even the rural tribes to the east bowed to the Ka’lie armies. But when the Danerins arrived, they crushed the Ka’lie forces. They were much more advanced; they stood no chance.” She continued. Osman set the binoculars down and turned to Sal’é to listen.
“The Danerins tried to impose their way of life on us, the tribes to the east conformed. But the western tribes rebelled. The Ka’lie began enslaving the other western tribes and selling them to outlaws not long after. That’s how its been for generations now, even my father does not remember a time when the Ka’lie weren’t ruthless slavers.” She cried as she finished.
“How does a slave caught and sold illegally end up in the ownership of anyone in the Danerin Confederation?” Thomas asked as he turned to Osman.
“Slavery is legal all over the world. The act of owning a person who is already a slave, the world governments see no problem in that. Buy ‘em, sell ‘em, breed ‘em, treat ‘em however you want they don’t care.” Osman began as he sparked a cigarette and let out a long puff.
“What they do have laws against is the act of enslaving someone. The Slavelands to the far south are the only place in the world that its legal to enslave the natives. There’s laws against how many and of what gender and age but no one down there really cares, hell you can see people within the Confederation don’t care too much either.” Osman sat back and stared out at the village for a moment before continuing.
“Once you are locked in a cage and can do nothing about it, it’s over. If you look the part, you’ll be sold and then you’re gone. Probably changing hands of who owns you four or five times before you finally settle in some shithole.” Osman finished. Thomas stared back at him as he clenched his fists. His anger boiled within him; he looked up at the town before them.