From: "BKWillis"
Subject: Desert of Fear (new installment 1/2)
Date: 30 April 2002 02:56

(Note: Story contains explicit violence and some profanity.)

--

The man with the bushy gray mustache would have to die first.  He was
obviously in charge and thus the priority target.  Fire left- handed so that
if she were killed in the opening volley, the machine pistol would track left
and cut down the cluster of men immediately to the leader's right.
Otherwise, assuming survival after killing the leader with her first burst,
she'd go low and slide to the right flank, where most of the musket-carrying
warriors had taken position.  They represented a more serious threat than the
rabble of poorly- armed farmers who formed most of the opposition on the
left.  Get in close to maximize damage and then switch to hand-to-hand,
target priority to be given to those enemies who were either giving orders or
moving in aggressively...

The indoctrination imprinted on Babydoll's mind was laying out these plans
automatically as she strode over to join Cain and Rahaaz.  Mechanically,
without taking her eyes off the surrounding throng, she drew her machine
pistol and thumbed out the spent magazine, then snapped in her last clip of
6mm caseless hollowpoints and yanked back the bolt.

"...do this _without_ a massacre," Cain was saying to Rahaaz as she took up a
position just to the Time Lord's left.  "So, I want everybody locked and
loaded, but _no_ shooting 'til I give the word, got me?  Anybody gets
trigger-happy, I'll have Bella eat their ghost."

"Aye, Overworlder," the War Captain grunted, not liking it but not prepared
to argue the point.  He shot a quick glance at the shadows where Bella lay,
unconsciously stepping a half-pace away.

"Then pass the word to your bully-boys.  I've got a plan, and I don't want
anyone screwing it up."

The Servii nodded and dropped back to the loose circle his raiders had formed
behind them.  As he did so, Cain turned his good eye Babydoll's way.

"I thought I told you to stay with Bella," he said mildly.

"You did, but you need me more."

One of Cain's rare and always ill-timed smiles chose that moment to put in an
appearance, bringing a surprising softness to his harsh, haunted face.
"Maybe so, babe." Then he was all business again.  "You heard what I told
Rahaaz?"

"Yeah.  Don't blast these sheepshaggers 'til you say so." She looked at him
curiously.  "So, have you got a real plan, or are you going to try and wing
it with a line of off-the-cuff bullshit?"

"I'm going to try some strategic negotiation toward a mutually- beneficial
compromise."

"So, bullshit then?"

"Exactly.  Be ready to start shooting if I royally screw up." He smirked,
then stepped forward to meet their hostile reception committee, hands
palm-out at his sides.

Babydoll shifted position slightly to keep an open line of fire on the North
Rim leader, pistol at hip level.  The man glanced at her, then paid her no
more heed as he directed some of his musketeers to fan out and take aim at
the intruders.  Apparently satisfied with his arrangements, he turned and
faced Cain directly, arms folded over his chest.

"Are you calling for a parley, Overworlder?" he called out scornfully.

"I am," Cain replied, his own voice surprisingly dignified.  "Will you speak
with me, friend Pereska?"

"I'm no friend of yours, Overworlder," the man spat, but seemed to consider
for a moment.  "Why not?" he said with a shrug.  "It's all the same in the
end.  Talk all you want.  That gives us more time to call up reinforcements."
He turned to his people.  "Everyone, hold your fire!  I'm going out to talk
with these sorry bastards.  If they try anything with me, kill them all."

"Nervy son-of-a-bitch," Babydoll hissed under her breath as Pereska strode
forward to meet Cain.  Neither man gave any sign of acknowledging the
firepower aimed at them.

"So, Cain," Pereska began without preamble, "tell me why I shouldn't just
kill the lot of you out of hand."

The Time Lord winced slightly.  "I get that a lot these days, you know?
Doesn't anybody just say, 'Hi, how you doing?' anymore?"

"None of your foolishness, Overworlder.  I know your ways and I'll not be
cozened by them.  If you have something to say, say it."

Cain shook his head sadly.  "You can drop the bluster, Pereska," he sighed.
"We both know you don't really want to fight us."

"Do we, now?" asked Pereska.  "And what gives you that delusion?"

"For starters, you're talking right now instead of shooting.  If you were all
that anxious to spill blood, you'd have sent your people straight in instead
of giving us time to reload and form up.  And for another, you've got nothing
to gain and a lot to lose by slugging it out with us.  What little plunder
you'd get off us ain't worth the lives you'd lose getting it."

Pereska sneered at that, mustache twitching.  "There are a dozen of you and
over two hundred of us, Overworlder.  I don't think you'd last as long as all
that."

The grin that Cain gave back was nothing at all like the short-lived but
genuine smile he'd shown Babydoll.  It was a cold, almost inhuman look of
utter cynicism that made the North Rimmer take a step backwards.  "Two
hundred?  I count about three dozen actual fighters among your mob, Pereska.
You've got them plus a hundred and fifty dirt farmers, is what you've got.
If we get in amongst 'em, how many widows and orphans do you reckon we could
leave you with on our way to Hell?"

"And you'll be the first one dead, my man," Babydoll added, waggling her
pistol meaningfully.

Pereska turned and regarded her coolly, looking her up and down.  "You've got
shit on your clothes, young lady," he said, indicating her muck-smeared legs.

She bared her teeth at him.  "Yeah.  I've been beating it out of the
Skyborn."

"Which brings me to my next point, Pereska," Cain went on.  "The only ones
who stand to gain by us fighting are the damned Skyborn.  In fact, I'd wager
that the only reason they didn't push on after us when we landed is that
Shanneril figures you'll do her dirty work for her, like a loyal subject
should."

A bit of color rose to Pereska's cheeks, but his voice stayed even.  "You're
trying to bait me, Cain, and that won't work.  You may have some half-assed
points, but we're still not about to just let you and your beastmen go
traipsing through our lands whenever you feel like it.  There's a price to be
paid for violating our lands."

"Oh, of course!" Cain cut in smoothly, all false affability again.  "Civic
pride and all that jazz!  That's why I think you'll like the offer I'm about
to make."

"And what might that be?" Pereska asked dubiously.

"Instead of a total bloodbath, I propose that we settle this with a small,
localized bloodbath.  We have champions from each side fight it out and
settle this mess.  If we win, you give us safe passage back to the High
Desert.  If you win, we'll throw down our weapons and surrender peaceably.
The worst that can happen is that you lose a little pride and kick us out of
your territory.  At best, you get what plunder we've got at no cost, plus you
get some captive Servii to parade around."

"Hmmm..." Pereska rubbed at his chin, clearly intrigued.  "The idea has some
merits in spite of its source.  I just see two problems.  One, how do I know
the Servii will surrender without a fight; and two, why should I throw away
my numerical advantage by giving you an even-odds fight?"

The Time Lord smirked nastily.  "Oh, I got answers for that, too..."

----

"Have I mentioned that he's completely insane?"

Bella coughed out a soft, painful laugh.  "The subject has come up once or
twice, I believe," she said, voice dry and brittle, controlled in spite of
the raw pain edging her words.  "I can't hear or see very well right now, so
you'll have to tell me what I've missed."

Babydoll sat crouched in the shadows of the haystack, eyes roving the ranks
of the North Rimmers who'd drawn off a little ways to their front.  The
machine pistol was resting on her thigh, but her finger stayed on the
trigger, just in case.  Beside her, Bella lay curled under Cain's
increasingly ragged trenchcoat, just a few glossy curls spilling out from
beneath.  Babydoll kept finding her eyes drawn back to those perfect ringlets
of hair and forcibly yanked her gaze back to keeping an eye on their
opponents.

"That stupid one-eyed old fart is going to get himself killed by a bunch of
sodbusters, is what," the blonde spat.  "We bust our butts to save him and
then he pulls this dumbass stunt."

"Details, Piggy, I need details," the vampire murmured.

'Piggy?' Babydoll mouthed, frowning, but let the comment pass.  "Okay, Fangs,
Mr.  Wonderful out there has cut a deal with these assholes that they'll let
us go if he wins a fight against their best, but we have to give up without a
fight if he loses."

There was another round of delicate coughing from under the trenchcoat.  When
it subsided, Bella muttered, "I've heard worse.  The plan we used to get into
Avis City, for one.  How'd he get the Honored War Captain to agree?"

Babydoll snorted derisively.  "It wasn't as hard as you'd think.  The Servii
are all hyped up on their big victory over the Skyborn, plus they think Cain
has, and I quote, 'righteousness on his side', so they think he can't lose."

"But you do." It was not a question.

"I haven't told you the best part, yet, Fangs.  The punchline is that Cain
has to fight not one, not two, but _eight_ of these beefheads all at once!"
Babydoll sent an angry glare at the Time Lord in question as he limped out
into the open space that had cleared between the two opposing forces.
"Stupid bastard," she muttered under her breath.  "Better not get yourself
killed..."

----

Kronin.  Short, wiry fellow with a basket-hilted saber.  Watchful eyes and
quick, surefooted movements.

Haarthund.  Bigger chap with a nasty scar down one cheek, carrying his saber
in one hand and a light wooden buckler in the other.  He came on cautiously,
letting the others move ahead first.

Karlissa.  Stocky, almost mannish-looking girl, bouncing a flange- headed
mace idly in her palm as she sized him up.

Lorm.  Gray-haired and taller than the rest, with a veteran's bland poker
face.  Another swordsman.

Tarla.  Older, hard-faced woman with her hair in a topknot, a cross- barred
spear riding on her shoulder.

Bergund.  Barrel-chest and long, corded arms, wielding a short,
straight-bladed sword in each hand.  Mean eyes and an arrogant sneer.

Yerik.  A towheaded, wide-eyed kid, grinning and nodding a greeting.  His
saber stayed sheathed on his back, while his hands rested near the brace of
knives in his belt.

Donali.  Unarmored, unlike the others, wearing farmer's homespun stretched
tautly over an ample gut.  A mild, genial face twisted by a blaster scar that
left one eye in a permanent glower.  He carried a double-bitted axe across
his shoulders, its haft nearly as long as the man was tall.

Pereska smiled sourly as he completed the introductions.  "Since they're
going to be your executioners, I felt it only fair that you know them by
name, Overworlder," he said.

Cain merely arched his eyebrow in reply, letting the North Rimmer have his
fun.  He glanced over the eight fighters, sizing them up while he tied his
hair back into a loose ponytail to keep it out of the way.  He then shrugged
out of his shirt and handed it to Rahaaz, who had come up to stand beside him
again.  He noted several of his opponents staring at the crisscrossed tangle
of staser scars that marked his chest and back and scratched idly at one of
the more recent ones, fending off memories.

Karlissa whistled softly as she looked him over.  "Not too bad for a man your
age," she laughed.  "Shame we'll have to kill such a juicy morsel."

"That's enough, Karlissa," Pereska snapped, suddenly on edge.  He turned his
gaze to War Captain Rahaaz.  "Will you swear, Servii?" he demanded.

Rahaaz looked him over coldly, then gave a slow nod.  He slipped a dagger out
of his belt and made a small cut on his palm, then sucked up the blood that
oozed out.  Never taking his eyes off the North Rimmers, he spat the bloody
wad into the dirt between them.  "I, War Captain Rahaaz," he said slowly and
with grim dignity, "oathbound of War Chief Ghorlok and warrior of the Red
Blade warband, swear 'pon the land that bore me that, an the Overworlder doth
fall to thy champions, we shall lay down our arms and give ourselves to thee.
An we do not, may the Sacred Land reject us and our fathers curse our names.
War Captain Rahaaz has spoken."

Pereska shot a glance at the veteran Lorm, who nodded.  "That's an oath a
Servii will keep," he said, impressed.  "They'll deal straight with us,
Pereska."

The War Captain glared at him as though offended, but said nothing further.
He handed Cain his dagger, then drew his broadsword and passed that over as
well.  The Time Lord nodded once as Rahaaz turned and strode back to rejoin
his raiders' skirmish line.

Pereska drew himself up and placed his right hand over his heart.  Speaking
loudly enough that all those observing could hear, he declared, "I, Pereska
of Shatterstone Village, swear on my honor that if you defeat these eight
picked fighters, we will give your followers safe passage out of our lands to
wherever you wish to go." In a quieter voice, he went on, "The fight will be
no-quarter, not to stop until one side is either dead or incapacitated." He
then turned to his own fighters.

"Strike to kill," he told them bluntly.  "Fight all-out.  This man is a lot
more dangerous than he looks.  The honor of Shatterstone Village and all
North Rim is in your hands." He looked each one in the eye, then turned and
trotted off to join the other spectators.

Cain watched him go, then hefted the Servii broadsword in his left hand and
the heavy dagger in his right.  "Well," he grunted at the eight facing him,
"let's get to it."

Without further words, the North Rimmers advanced on him in a steady,
deliberate group.  Haarthund held back slightly, buckler held up to guard his
face, while young Yerik darted off to the Time Lord's right.  Cain turned
slightly to keep him in view, backing away a few steps.  The kid had drawn
one of his short, double-edged knives and was holding it lightly by the
blade, making no move to close.  He flashed a wide grin and suddenly flicked
his arm forward, sending the little knife flipping through the air toward
Cain's bare chest.  A desperate lunge backwards put Cain out of the missile's
path as he sent his own dagger flashing out in a smooth underhand throw.
Yerik already had another knife in hand and ready when the broad-bladed
Servii dagger struck him just below his armored jerkin, at the junction of
thigh and groin.  The toothy grin vanished into a full-throated scream of
pain as he dropped his weapon and tumbled to the ground, clutching at his
spouting thigh.

"Bastard!" shouted Bergund, lunging ahead of his cohorts to slash with his
twin swords.  Cain caught the blow of the first blade on his own sword, but
nearly got split open by the second.  He ducked away from the blow and caught
the man's wrist with his free hand.  He twisted hard, putting all his
strength into dislocating his opponent's elbow.  Bergund's eyes widened in
pain and shock, giving Cain the opening he needed to bring his sword up and
clout him on the temple with the pommel, knocking him senseless.

As Bergund fell, Cain swung his sword in a broad arc to keep the others at
bay, but there was no need.  The remaining six were moving in with more
caution, spreading out to surround him and keep him hemmed-in.  That would be
enough of that, Cain decided.  The keys to defeating multiple opponents lay
in speed and mobility and the broadsword was only slowing him down, so...

Kronin looked to be the quickest of his remaining foes and thus the one who
should be eliminated first.  Cain moved in to close with him, drawing back
his sword as he came on.  As Kronin went into a guard position, the Time Lord
suddenly heaved the great broadsword at his head.  As expected, the man
sidestepped and batted the ponderous projectile aside, but he instictively
flinched away in the act of doing so.  Cain came on in a rush just a
heartbeat behind the sword, taking Kronin down with a kick in the gut before
he could refocus.  Iron-studded leather barely slowed the force behind the
steel-toed engineer boot and Kronin folded, gagging and retching.

That left five.  Cain, fighting much quicker barehanded, moved in against
Lorm next, but the man was too crafty to be drawn out.  He stood his ground,
using the point of his saber to hold Cain at bay while the others closed in.
Tarla drove in from Cain's left with her spear, forcing him back, while
Haarthund's blade menaced him from the right.  He faded back, seeing his
opportunity in Karlissa, who was coming up from behind with her mace raised
on high.  The mace is not a versatile weapon, lacking reach and being
effective only when swung in full-armed crushing blows that are slow to
recover.  As Karlissa swung the mace down, Cain dropped low under the blow,
closing with her.  Karlissa tried a desperate backhand, but Cain was already
inside her reach, surging up and into her, calloused hands clutching her by
the arm.  The renegade twisted sharply, flipping the yelling woman heavily to
the ground and pulling her shoulder out of its socket in the process.

Cain tried to follow-through with a kick to put the woman out, but Donali's
axe drove him back.  He slipped back and away from the big farmer, dodging
frantically as Tarla's spear drove in at his chest.  She thrust again for his
thigh, only a timely leap saving him and letting the spearpoint pass him by.
As he shifted his attention back to Lorm for a split-second, the woman
warrior pulled sharply back on the spear, its crossbar catching him behind
the knee and jerking his right leg from under him.  With a snarled curse,
Cain tumbled backwards to the ground.

Haarthund, seeing his chance, rushed in and thrust murderously at the Time
Lord's chest.  The sword point buried itself in the churned dirt as Cain
rolled aside, the edge of the blade cutting a thin gouge across his ribs.  As
he rolled, he kicked upwards, catching Haarthund in the ribs and knocking him
aside.  Tarla's spear darted in again, but this time Cain caught the weapon
behind the crossbar and jerked it out of her hand.  He rolled to his feet
just in time to avoid a fierce slash from Lorm and bounded backwards, trying
to get clear.

Donali came in on him again, his great axe sweeping downwards to try and
split him vertically, but Cain was already moving to get inside the weapon's
arc, the axe being useless as a close-quarters weapon.  The axehead passed
harmlessly behind him while Donali tried -- too slowly -- to backpedal away.
Cain struck the portly man a vicious palm-strike that crushed his nose to a
bloody ruin.  As Donali staggered back, dazed, the Time Lord spun in place
and aimed a kick at Lorm, who was charging in to run him through from behind.
The sudden move caught Lorm by surprise as Cain's boot slammed into his hand
and sent his blade flying.  Before he could even react to that, a solid blow
from Cain's fist broke his jaw and sent the old veteran to the ground.

Both sides paused for a moment to take stock.  Of the North Rimmers, only
Haarthund and Tarla were still in fighting condition, the latter having
recovered her spear.  Karlissa was clambering to her feet, her right arm
dangling uselessly, while Donali stumbled blindly with both hands pressed to
his face, trying to stem the flow of blood that poured from his crushed nose.
The other four stayed on the ground, Lorm and Bergund motionless, Kronin
still gasping helplessly, and Yerik clutching at his thigh wound.  Cain,
meanwhile, was bleeding from the cut along his ribs but was otherwise fine,
barely even breathing hard.

"So," he grunted, "we gonna finish this, or not?  I ain't got all day."

Haarthund glanced at Tarla, who nodded, and the two began to move in from
opposite sides, slowly, on guard.  Cain smirked and made a feint towards
Haarthund, who immediately backed off.  Turning, he moved toward Tarla, who
stood her ground.  She thrust guardedly at his middle, but he deflected the
spear with his left hand and swung in, bringing his right down in a chop
across the side of her neck, stunning her.

That just left Haarthund.

Cain picked up Tarla's spear as the sword-and-buckler fighter began to slowly
circle him, peering warily over the top of his small shield.  Cain watched
him for a moment, bouncing the spear in his hand, then blew out a long
breath.  "I'm getting tired of chasing you around, boyo," he snarled.  "You
gonna fight or not?" Before Haarthund could respond, Cain jumped forward,
faking a throw at the man's head.  As the North Rimmer brought his buckler
up, Cain adjusted his hold and launched the spear straight into his foe's
unprotected leg.  Haarthund gasped out a curse as the point embedded itself
in his thigh.  Teeth gritted, he dropped his sword and began trying to tug
the spear free.

Only the groaning curses of the wounded could be heard as Cain turned and
walked across the churned field to face Pereska.  The old leader stood silent
and stony-faced while his people milled uncertainly at his back.

"Well, Pereska?" Cain said, voice low.  "I've got nothing against you and
yours, so you can stop this now, or I can go ahead and kill them all.  Up to
you." He shrugged indifferently, showing that it was all the same to him
either way.

Pereska only stared at him for a long moment as his people's murmurings grew
louder.  Finally.  he held up a hand for silence.  "That will be enough,
Overworlder," he husked.  Then, louder, "The fight is ended.  The Overworlder
and his allies have won their passage through our lands."

----

The barn was old and not far from caving in on itself, but it had a solid
roof that would keep the sun off.  Cain carried Bella's huddled form inside
and set her gently down in the darkest corner.  The Servii followed, then
Babydoll last of all, her fingers tugging at her sole remaining pigtail and a
dark look to her eyes as she watched the Time Lord unwrap his battered old
trenchcoat from around Bella.  She paused at the door beside the Servii
sentry, watching them.

"Does it hurt much, babe?" she heard him ask.

Bella's reply was soft and indistinct.  One frail white hand clamped around
his wrist as she whispered something emphatically to him.

"I know your need," Cain replied, sighing.

"I'm sorry," Bella croaked a bit louder.  "But, the smell..."

Cain glanced down at the still-oozing sword cut on his ribs and shook his
head.  "It's okay," he soothed, reaching out to stroke her brow.  "I'd give
it to you anyway." He held his wrist out to her face and Babydoll turned
away, stepping back outside so as to drown out the soft sucking noises.

The Servii sentry glanced at the two, then paled and stepped outside along
with her.

Not far away, the North Rim sentries glared at her and fingered their
muskets, but made no move to aim them.  The Rimmers were willing to let the
raiding party go, but that didn't mean they trusted them to behave
themselves.  Which was fine, since they didn't trust the Rimmers, either.
She raised a hand in sarcastic greeting to one of the sentinels and was
slightly surprised to get a curt nod in acknowledgment.

Babydoll tugged at her pigtail again, her trademark.  In another time and
place, those long blonde braids had served as a sort of personal battle-flag.
They made her instantly recognizable in the circles in which she moved and
those who saw them would know the name and reputation of the blue-eyed,
round-faced girl without her ever speaking a word.

But now one was gone, shot off by that crukking red-haired bitch and she must
be looking a bit silly with a hip-length pigtail on one side and her hair
barely on her collar on the other.  She drew her knife and held it up against
her remaining braid, then paused.

"If I chop it off, Bella can't call me 'Pigtails' anymore," she mused, then
shook her head.  Where had that come from?  It wasn't like her to think about
things that didn't matter like that.

She sawed determinedly at the braid, the knife slicing easily through the
thick blonde tresses.  In a moment, the pigtail lay in her hand.  She stared
at it, feeling a strange sense of relief and perhaps of difference flow
through her.  It was almost as if she had severed a part of herself along
with the hair, a part of herself that she was better off without.

"Hey, babe."

She turned to see Cain standing behind her, putting his shirt back on and
looking at her with an odd expression.  A confused welter of feelings, dark
and light, churned within her when she looked at him.  "Yes?" she replied,
making her voice flat.

He kept looking at her, his head cocked a bit curiously.  "I'm gonna go have
a little chat with Pereska for a bit," he said at last.  "You're in charge
'til I get back."

"Okay."

He started out the door, then turned back to her.  "Oh, three quick things
before I go."

"Yes, boss?"

"First, thanks for coming up to Avis to rescue me." He smiled and clapped her
on the shoulder.

"You're, uh, welcome," she replied, taken slightly aback.

His smile disappeared.  "Second, never do anything that reckless ever again.
You got me?"

She looked away from him, at the North Rim sentries, and said nothing.

"And third..." He patted her slightly.  "...that hairstyle really suits you."
With that, he turned and strode off, leaving her standing there openmouthed.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see one of the Servii, Khaagron,
standing behind her, looking a bit nervous.  "Overworlder," he stammered,
"thy companion doth request thy presence." He jerked a thumb at the corner
where Bella lay.

"All right."