Tarnished Chapter 7 (Patreon)

What is your name, Deputy?” John asked as the pair walked through the town.

“Seline, Mr. Smith.”

“Call me John. Tell me, Seline, what are the major issues you deal with here?”

“Mostly the occasional drunk or fight. Usually, those two go together.”

“What else?”

“The occasional attack by the Harc’otti that are native to this area,” She sounded generally annoyed by this.

“Have there been any attempts to reach out to them?”

“Yes, but the land was bought and paid for. This isn’t like what happened during the war. These attacks are just a few of their younger members upset that their elders sold off their land.”

John had heard about the War for the West as most Fareen called it. A bloody affair that occurred forty years ago and lasted three years. The conflict led to the decimation of the indigenous population beyond the Spine. From what he knew, the few survivors of the conflict either fled to the frozen north or south into the burning deserts.

“Has anyone been hurt in these attacks?”

She hesitated to answer. “…Yes.”

“Death’s?” John asked, forcing the woman to continue.

“Two so far.”

John nodded, knowingly. “And what have their elders said about these deaths?”

“That it is none of their concern,” she responded bitterly.

“Well, If that’s how they feel, then they shouldn’t concern themselves when I put the troublemakers down.”

Deputy Seline stumbled when John made that statement. He stopped and waited for her to collect herself and catch up.

“You can’t, if we killed their people that could upset the fragile balance we spent so long to create.”

John just laughed. “Seline, they can’t have it both ways. Either they want peace or they don’t. If they didn’t want us to take action, they shouldn’t have attacked. They are testing your resolve. One day, it won’t be a simple test.”

“B- but, I’ve never had to shoot anyone before.”

“Well, I have. Besides, if everything goes to plan, you won’t need to. Now, what other issues are there?”

She told him of banditry in the area. Considering his run-in with the train bandits, he wasn’t all that surprised by that statement. Of more concern were the mining camps that were found deserted and the workers who went missing with no trace. Being the only competent peacekeeper in Ember Creek, she couldn’t leave town to investigate these disappearances. She could only rely on witness testimony. Which John knew was poor at best.

“Where are we going anyway?” Seline asked as they continued down the street.

“The saloon,” he stated as he waited for a wagon to pass by before crossing the street. He had spotted the building earlier in the day. It was hard to miss, considering it was one of the largest buildings in town and also situated just across the street from the foreman’s office.

“A bit early to start drinking,” she muttered as she followed him.

John chuckled at that. “I’m not heading there for a drink.” Although after the week he had, he could use one. “I’m going to impress upon the owner the importance of cutting the Sheriff off.”

He could practically hear Deputy Seline wince behind him. “He isn’t going to be happy about that.” Since she was so eager to protect her boss, it was telling that she hadn’t asked him to try and just talk the man into stop drinking. She had likely tried herself more than once.

“He should have thought about that before neglecting his duties.” Seline sighed quietly but followed him.

A slightly older brunette woman with soft ringlets and a far too fancy green dress stood outside the saloon, smiling and chatting with people as they passed. When her gaze came their way, they immediately settled on Seline.

“Deputy, here for your usual?” The woman purred with a knowing smirk.

From the corner of his eye, John could see the younger woman’s face go beat red at the question before stumbling over her words. “N- No Madam Cassandra. Official business.”

The older woman tsked in disappointment. “A pity, Henry will be so disappointed. He doesn’t get personal clients very often.”

“Ah… perhaps another day,” Seline managed to squeak out, earning a light titter of amusement from the Madam.

“And who is your strapping friend, hmm? Part of this official business?” The woman turned towards him with a calculating but non-hostile gaze.

“I’m John.” He held out his hand.

The Madam seemed a bit taken aback by the gesture but she still placed her hand in his. John kissed the back of it lightly before releasing it. “And a gentleman. That’s rare around these parts.”

“I’m not from around here.”

“I can tell.” She held up her hand to forestall his response. “Let me guess. A man of culture, dressed well, and leading the Deputy around. You work for Daniel, don’t you?”

“I do. Although, I don’t think I have ever heard of anyone calling Mr. Novarez by his first name. I take it you are acquainted with him.”

She laughed. “Unfortunately. I doubt I would be out here if I didn’t.”

She didn’t expound on her ties with Mr. Novarez any further, and while John was curious, he didn’t ask.

“So this is your establishment then?” John asked.

“It is. The Silken Riches may not seem like much to someone from New Gata, but it does its job.”

“And what’s that?”

“Keeping the workers happy,” She smiled coyly.

He should have expected that answer. “Well… I’m going to have to ask you to break that promise for one individual.”

“Hmm, that’s a tall order, even for a gentleman such as yourself, John. And who might this person be?” she asked curiously.

“The Sheriff.”

She raised a well-manicured eyebrow at his answer but didn’t immediately respond. Most people who knew his boss would likely capitulate pretty quickly. Like the foreman, Frederick had. It seemed she didn’t have as high an opinion of Mr. Novarez as some people in town did. Or she simply didn’t fear him. This elevated her significantly in John’s eyes. If he was going to free this town of his boss's influence, he would need more people like Madam Cassandra.

Before the Madam could answer him, there was a crash from inside followed by shouts.

“What was that?” Deputy Seline asked.

The Madam pressed a delicate hand to her forehead and John could have sworn she cursed under her breath. “That is probably Derek.”

The deputy’s demeanor changed to one of anger. “You let the Klein boys back in? Why? I told you they were banned.”

“And who was going to enforce that, Seline?” The Madam asked with a tired sigh. “We both know Derek doesn’t listen to anyone but his Pappy and him just barely. I don’t have anyone willing to risk getting on their bad side to kick them out for good, nor would I ask if they were.”

For a moment, John thought Seline was going to march into the building but she seemed to deflate and take her hand off her sidearm.

John saw an opportunity. “If you agree to cut the Sheriff off, I’ll make sure the Kleins don’t return.”

She still took a moment to respond. “…Fine, you have a deal. Just… don’t kill them.”

He smiled and tipped his hat slightly before heading through the door. Seline and Cassandra followed behind.

The scene in the saloon was much as he expected considering the noise. It was still rather early in the day so most of the tables were empty. Yet there were a few people scattered about. Likely regulars. But one table held three rough-looking gentlemen along with a fourth man who stood a good head taller than John and half again as wide.

The bigger guy, who had to be Derek, was beating the snot out of another customer. This stopped as the three of them entered.

Derek didn’t even look at John, his lecherous gaze roved over Seline. The man smiled. He dropped the man he had been pummeling and shook the blood off his large fists. “Seline, finally come to your senses?”

Seline returned his leer with a disgusted look. “I told you you were banned from town.”

The large man roared in laughter, which caused the three sitting at the table to chuckle along. “I like my women feisty! But I wonder if this newfound courage comes from your little friend here. Your new boyfriend perhaps?”

John could sense the unspoken danger in that question. Not that he was worried.

The Deputy began to respond but John cut her off. “And what if I was?”

The large man slowly turned his way and sneered but he didn’t immediately rush over and attack him. Calculating, or cautious, John didn’t know. He stored that away as the man slowly stepped toward him.

“So the mouse can speak?” Mouse? He had been called worse before.

The patrons in the saloon seemed to hold their breath as the larger man finally closed the distance.

“I’ll have to teach him some manners.” The man’s fist was halfway to John’s face before he finished speaking.

Even if the man’s attack hadn’t been highly telegraphed, John could have still avoided it with ease. He tilted back only slightly allowing the haymaker to brush past his nose by a mere breath.

For John, it was like the man was moving in slow motion. When the strike missed, he saw confusion slowly blooming in the bigger man’s eyes. John met that gaze as his offhand snapped up to the concealed holster under his jacket. Having people not realize he was armed was one of the reasons he preferred the shoulder holsters to the belt ones.

He savored the shock of surprise when the big guy saw the glint of his weapon. But Derek had overcommitted to the powerful strike and going by the strong scent of alcohol, he wasn’t completely in control of his body. That was not something John had an issue with.

The gun snapped out and then down in one fluid movement. As he stared Derek in the eyes, he pulled the trigger.

The crack of the gun going off was deafening in the bar, causing everyone to freeze and go quiet. At least until the men at the table realized what had happened. Everything that occurred next happened before Derek could even hit the ground. The three men reached for their sidearms, while Derek collapsed to the floor, screaming from the likely shattered kneecap John had given him.

Before the idiots could draw their weapons or even stand, John had his gun pointed at them. “If any of you so much at touch your piece, that will be the last thing you do.”

The men, seemingly smarter or at least less drunk than their larger brother, froze mid-reach. “Have a seat and keep your hands flat on the table.”

The men slowly lowered themselves back to their seats and did as he commanded. John walked around Derek, the man crying and clutching at his broken knee. The big guy should be counting his blessings. If he had been armed like his brothers, John would have shot him in someplace far worse. But the man had left his holster and weapon on the back of the chair near the table. So instead of spending the rest of his life as a eunuch, he would simply live with a limp as a reminder.

John relinquished each of the brothers of their sidearms. They were long, unwieldy things, not well suited for quickly drawing. One of the reasons he had never switched over to using the Pneuma pistols even if the slightly longer barrel made them more accurate. He discharged the small air cylinders that lay beneath their barrels before slapping them on the table in front of each man.  Without a recharge tank to refill the cylinders, the weapons were effectively useless. He did the same for Derek's gun before sliding it across the table toward the trio.

“Now… I’m going to tell you this once because I am a reasonable person. If I find you or any of your ilk causing trouble in Ember Creek, I won’t be doling out any more warnings like I did for your brother. Are we clear?”

The men nodded quickly and John smiled. “Good. Now go take him to the doc. With any luck, they can save his leg.”

The three stood slowly, placing their weapons back in their holsters before hurrying over toward the still-crying man.

It took all three of them to carry the big man out of the saloon.

“Was that really necessary?” Seline asked after the men had finally left.

“Yes. Sometimes people only respond when you threaten them or use force. But these men didn’t know me or have any reason to respect me, so I had to give them that reason.”

“Still, you may have caused more problems than you solved. Their Pappy isn’t going to be happy that you crippled his favorite child.”

John just snorted. “He’s hardly crippled. That was only a low-power shot. If I wanted to cripple the man, I would have.”

“Wait, so you planned for this?” the Deputy asked in confusion.

“For this? No. But I knew eventually someone would try and test me.”

“I must say, impressive work, John. I guess I must keep up my end of the bargain. Ricardo!”

“Yes, Madam?” A black-haired man with tanned skin asked from behind the bar.

“The Sheriff is cut off. If you see him in here, toss him out.”

The man nodded and went back to cleaning glasses as if nothing had ever happened.

“There, all settled. I look forward to our next encounter, John,” The Madam said with a smirk.

John dipped his hat and the pair left the Saloon.