Satin's Tale: Dealings Done

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Knives Out

The moon was waxing closer to full tonight.  It would only be another few days before it reached its brightest.  Satin let his eyes pass over the small collection of tents one more time from just behind the crest of his hill, then shook his head.  He retreated from the vantage point and returned to his horse, swinging up and turning him about quickly.

Times had gotten harsher than usual in the last few months, and more so as several unfortunate losses had hurt the band's ability.  The past few raids, Marley had been keeping his eyes open for potential 'recruits', so the others said, and now here he was, out with the band for the first time himself.  The nomadic communities were the easiest to strike, but at the same time the difference between what they had, and what they could afford to lose, was usually very slim as well.

As he rode back towards the others he took the time to enjoy the feeling of his horse moving beneath him, the night wind in his face and the calm simplicity of the moment, in the face of what was to come.  Even now he wasn't completely sure how it was all going to happen, but after being so eager to come for so long, he wasn't about to lose his nerve now.  It was only a minute before the others came into sight, all mounted and ready, and he gave his horse the small sound for her to stop quickly.

Marley, slightly ahead of the others, nodded to him.

“How's it looking, Satin?”  He sat aside his horse with his arms folded in a loose cross, leaning back easily while he waited.  Satin marshalled his thoughts.

“All seems pretty quiet.  They've set up in a ring around the fire they made in the evening.  No guards or watchers posted outside the ring that I could see, and I made a full loop.  One watcher sleeping at the fireside, might as well be in his bedroll.  I couldn't identify any particular place where they were storing things.  Might have been just spread out tent to tent, might be they haven't got anything to spare.  Seems like they're mostly following the horses, this time of year.”  Marley grimaced but Satin kept his eyes level, watching him.  At last he pushed out a short, heavy sigh.

“Right.  We can't go away empty handed tonight, so we'll go in slow, quiet.  If we have to go tent to tent we won't be able to avoid rousing the whole lot of them, so let's make sure the whole camp is under control before we do.  Let's keep it clean tonight.”  there was a murmur of agreement and they moved forward, Satin falling in beside Marley, with Whistler close on the other side.  Marley's large, heavier charger made Satin's own horse, light and small as she was, seem even slighter, and as a boy still only in his early teen age, Satin found himself having to look upwards at a fair angle to find the older man's face.

“What happens if they can't spare anything all all, Marley?”  He kept his voice low and quiet, though it was hardly necessary yet.  The other man glanced at him and gave a soft shake of his head.

“Then we take what they've got, and leave them enough to get to the nearest fixed settlement.  It's only about four days ride from here; push come to shove, they'd barely need more than water to make it that far.”  Satin could hear in his voice that, whatever he said, Marley didn't like the prospect of going that far, but he pressed anyway.

“That isn't how we normally work, old man.”  The sigh in response made a small part of him wish he hadn't pushed, but only for  a moment.

“I know lad, I know.  It's been a tight few months, and unlike other folk, we're gambling for our lives every day.  They'll be accepted, more or less, in any settlement they seek out for aid...  We won't be.  We don't get a lot of real choices in life; this is one of those times when we've got less than it feels we ought to.”  He resettled himself as he rode and seemed to try to shake away the serious words with a small grin.  “If you feel that bad about it, you're welcome to give 'em your own food and go hungry yourself...  World doesn't care which you do after all.”  Satin only shook his head in response and turned his eyes forward again. 

By the time they reached the nomad's encampment the air had cleared again and Marley dismounted.  He gestured for Whistler and James to do the same, then nodded for Satin to take them forward.  He jumped down as well and the four crept up to the crest of the hill again.  Marley only looked for a few moments before dropping back down and rolling onto his back to look up at the stars.   The others remained crouched low against the grass, but didn't seem surprised by his actions.  As Satin watched him he blew out a long breath.

“It's what I was expecting.”  His voice was barely above a whisper, but it still resonated with the deep strength of his normal voice.  “Good work on the scouting Satin, you covered everything important.  Like or not, we're going to have to do this the hard way.  James, Whistler, head back and split the others up, encircle the camp then move in, silent and slow.  I want a weapon ready at every tent entrance before anyone wakes up, understood?”  The two nodded and disappeared back towards the band while Satin waited.  Marley watched the stars for another few moments before speaking again.

“Don't think I'm leaving you out, Satin boy.  You're with me tonight.  I want you to follow behind me, but when we get to the ring, we'll hang back.  Keep your eyes open and watch everything.  Something goes wrong, or some other surprise comes up that we've missed, and we're the first hands to fix it.  You're quick, and you're clever, so if something unexpected comes up, you need to do your best to handle it, while everyone else sticks to what needs doing.  You understand kid?”  Satin hesitated, but he nodded anyway.  Marley seemed to see the motion out of the corner of his eye and he drew a last breath, inhaling deeply and letting it out again, before climbing to his feet. 

“The others will nearly be ready.  Come on.”

As the moved down the hill, Satin noticed the change that came over Marley.  He had always been hard and gruff, but as he approached the camp a more subtle sense surrounded him.  Every movement was a part of the next, smooth and fluid, and utterly immutable.  Where he had moved quietly before, now he fell silent in a way that almost seemed to deaden the air around him.  As they approached the ring, Satin could see some of the others creeping up alongside the various shelters.  If everything went well, they'd be contained and forced to surrender before they even knew there was an attack. 

In the centre of the camp, the lone sentry continued to sleep gently, but as Satin watched him, a log broke in the fire, crashing inward with a crack.  The man jerked up, blinking for a moment, before his eyes fell on one of the encroaching raiders near him.  His eyes went wide and he opened his mouth, beginning to shout alarm.  Satin dashed forward but Marley was already ahead of him, a dark clad flow of motion that engulfed the shouting man and cut the sound off with the grinding, tearing sound Satin knew to be a neck being snapped.  It was too late already as the camp began to erupt into chaos.

Others were already scrambling from their tents and shelters and grabbing weapons faster than the others could respond to them and their shouts quickly roused more, the sounds of weapons clashing springing up to one side, then another.  Satin reached Marley as he dropped the still twitching body to the ground.  The older man cursed viciously and glanced about.

“Bloody luck...  Satin, see where the fighting is and help whoever needs it most.  Stop the fiercest ones and the rest might give up and come quiet.”  The order was sharp a quick, and Marley was already moving away by the time he finished speaking.  Satin looked about in the other direction as he drew his knives.

Hangnail seemed to have fetched up with two of the village men and struggled to fend them both off as Satin raced in, low and swift from the side.  His blade bit across of the soft back of one man's knee, dropping him with a startled cry of pain.  He heard it end sharply as Hangnail made the most of it but he was still moving, jumping up now to take hold of the other man's raised sword arm and pull it down behind him.  His body jerked an instant later and Satin felt a spray of what could only be blood spatter across his face and shoulder.  He grit his teeth and spared only a glance for Hangnail, pulling his long blade from the second man, before running on.

The clamour of fighting seemed only to have grown louder, as Satin's eyes passed over violence of the raid gone wrong.  Violet; mad, vicious grin on her face as her blades dashed past the defences of her opponent and plunged deep.  Felaren, to her right, a look of fierce determination on his face as he grappled with one of the women from the camp, many of whom seemed to have taken arms as well.  He feinted back then struck up and inward, disarming her with one strike and following through with a second that opened her throat.

James looked as he always did when he fought, calm and a little bit sad.  His opponents, a man and a woman, seemed as much terrified as angry, and lashed out at him with force, but no precision.  Satin moved in to help, but as he did James slipped in between the two.  His free hand grabbed the loose front of the man's shirt, pulling him off balance and over into the woman.  As they stumbled he hooked his own weapon to its loop on his belt and grabbed hold of the blades each of them had dropped in the collision.  As the pair struggled to stand he silenced them both with hard, sure strikes from each weapon.  Satin saw him hold the hilts for a moment, still, and shake his head.  It lasted only a moment before he jumped back again, releasing the blades where they stood and pulling his own knife again.

“Damnit...  Marley!”  The name was a shout that carried across the screams and cries of the struggle.  “There's no saving this now!”  Satin tuned his back to James, his knives up and ready while his eyes darted, finding Marley in the confusion.  The man moved smoothly from target to target, an unstoppable force that left only death behind.  He paused to call back.

“Aye James!  Stupid blighters...  no choice now... Clean it up!”  the others seemed to hear this last shout as well and something about the conflict seemed to intensify.  James had already moved on as Satin looked for anyone else who needed help.

“Monster!  Get away from us!  How can you do this, you horrible child!?”  The cry came from the shelter nearest him, a woman's voice, choked with tears.  He looked down, knives ready, to see a young woman dressed only in a nightshirt and holding a small child to her chest.  Another infant, no more than three, clutched tightly to her.  All around, Satin could hear the sounds of the others 'cleaning up' what remained of the camp.  He grit his teeth, swallowing.

“Run away.  Get away from this while you can, there's nothing left for you here now.”    He spoke the words as clearly as he could without raising his voice, then turned away, running back towards the remaining conflict. 

It was over less than a few minutes later, and silence returned to the night.  They were all standing about the fire making sure no one was badly hurt or fallen.  The bodies of the dead surrounded the band and Satin stood with them.  Speedy had taken a long gash on one arm and Dancer was bleeding from a bad cut across his scalp, but that was all.  Marley sighed.

“Sorry it went that way boys.  Rotten luck and folk with more brave than smart in them.  Safe back and no losses... Let's find what's worth taking and get out here.”  His voice was heavy and tired and it matched the general mood of the others now that the rush of the conflict had faded.  No one mentioned the fact that, with no survivors, they were taking away much more than they'd anticipated; it was a bitter victory.

They rode back more slowly than they had come, the night still young and the horses loaded.  Satin rode beside Marley, his expression dark in the moonlight.  He felt Marley look across at him and spared the older man a glance.

“You did good tonight Satin.  Things didn't go like I'd hoped, but you still responded well.”  The boy grit his teeth, sneering unconsciously.

“I'm not happy about what happened tonight, Marley.  Don't pat me on the head and tell me I did well.”  He looked forward again and Marley spat.

“You and everyone else, kid.  They didn't give us any choice.”  His voice sounded as bitter as Satin felt, but he didn't feel like giving the man an inch, looking back as an angry expression settled over his features.

“I think we did have a choice, old man.  I don't think those people needed to die.”  Marley's laugh in response was derisive and dark.

“Aye well, maybe if you're ever in charge, you can make that call and see how it goes for you.  Understood, Satin?”

“Perfectly.”  He looked forward again, biting back further comment.  There was silence for a while, hard and cold as he watched the plains ahead of him, before the words forced their way free.

“Don't think I've forgotten, Marley.  I'm still going to pay you your due, and then maybe I will make those calls, and see how it suites.”  He felt Marley react, though without looking over to him it was hard to tell how.  On Marley's other side, Whistler called out.

“Enough, Satin.  Enough.  It's been a hard night, and no-one is happy about how it went.  Well, except Violet, but you know what she's like.  We're all feeling that way, so let it go for now, alright?”  Her tone was the soft scolding she often employed when she felt he'd gone too far, but Marley raised a hand to her.

“It's fine, Whistler.  It's his right.  Though lad...”  Satin looked up at him now, and could see the careworn weariness in his eyes by the bright moonlight.  “If you learned anything tonight, I hope it's that you aren't ready for that yet.  Wait until you're full grown at least, then you may have a real chance.”  Satin looked away again, but this time it was to avoid those eyes that seemed to care so much, despite everything else he did and said.  If nothing else, Marley was right that he wasn't ready yet.  He was sure he could best anyone else in the band now, one to one, but Marley himself, when he fought seriously, was another league of dangerous altogether.  It was something he knew he was going to do one day, when he was able, certainly, but at the same time, he had to admit, it was something he also tried not to think about most of the time.  Something about it never failed to make him feel uncomfortable.

Back at their small encampment they unloaded and sorted quietly while Whistler took care of the few injuries there were, then they all turned into rest without any of the normal banter or play.  Clouds shrouded the moon and the fire burned low, letting the camp slip into a more complete darkness.  As Satin lay with his eyes closed he could hear the soft whispers of Marley and Whistler, almost too quiet for him to make out.

“I know you care for him, but please stop encouraging the boy.  I don't want you to become some martyr and leave me, over something like this.”

“Whistler, love, he'll do what he feels he has to, when the time comes.  Nothing I say will sway him from that now.  After all I've taught him, it wouldn't really do for me to stop him trying to take his revenge, if that's what he really wants.”

“Don't talk like that.  You two don't need to fight... I thought that was behind you both now, it was so long ago.”  Even whispered there was a quaver in her voice and Satin heard her moving in the darkness, likely closer to her lover.

“Here, hush love, it's alright...” The faint sound of a shifting blanket interrupted their whispers for a moment as his suspicions were confirmed. “In the end, it'll be up to Satin, not me.  It might seem like long years to us, but not for him I wager, and you and I both know he's not one to forget a debt or a favour, even young as he is.  He's a good kid.  I have to trust him, and so do you.

“How can I?  You're both so alike, and if it were the other way around, I know you'd kill him.  It wouldn't be a question.”  In the darkness, Marley sighed and Satin heard the sound of him kissing Whistler softly.

“Aye, I would.  But maybe we're not so alike as you feel.”

Whistler responded but Satin rolled over and covered his ears to the conversation,   trying not to think about the words.  His fists were clenched and he tried not to grind his teeth as he wondered if either of them believed the lies they told one another, or if it was just for show.  The rekindled spark of anger kept him awake long through the night until dawn.

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