Book 3, Chapter 1 - The Arrogant Store Owner (2/2)

The place was illuminated by an old electric lantern, covered in grit.

The melodies were coming from a gramophone. A slightly warped record spun slowly on the turn table. It was obvious by looking at it that the tech wasn’t old. Some wastelander must have dug up the plans and built one themselves. Not the most difficult task, but still a rare find. Hammont hadn’t expected to find one in this place.

A pretty girl with long legs and a round bottom served as the shop’s clerk. She was tinkering with the equipment.

Hammont rumbled a demand at her through his meaty throat. “Where’s your boss?! Get them out here this instant!”

A slurred and languorous voice answered from the back. The words were slow and easy, with stretched out syllables. “What’s with aaall that sshhouting! Can’cha see I’m busy?”

The presumed store owner was lounging on a rattan chair. Two more attractive young women were kneading his shoulders. He seemed perfectly happy, even despite Hammont’s rude interruption. The man rolled his head up to look at the Magistrate, an act which seemed more exhausting than it should have.

Another one of the shop assistants snorted awake from dozing in the corner and rose to his feet.

This one was the only man. He was a big and lithe fellow with blond hair and blue eyes, and skin white as milk. He was handsome, especially with that constantly bashful expression pasted on his face. He was an impressive sight but otherwise seemed pretty delicate, even his voice wasn’t very loud. All in all he seemed like an unexceptional bookworm.

However the blonde man was not the least bit perturbed by the men in armor, nor their combative postures. He even yawned impatiently and slurred at them as he neared. “Hey there officer. See anything ya like? Take a look around! Any questions, just ask.”

The Magistrate was half a breath from blowing his top. These criminals were peddling their contraband right before his eyes, like it was the most normal thing the world! It was open contempt for his authority!

“What hole did you rats crawl out of?” Hammont pulled his sword from its sheath. “I don’t have time to play with you. Keep up your games and see if I don’t kill you were you stand!

The women stopped with anxious looks on their faces.

Yet, the owner remained in his chair completely unconcerned. One hand rested on the small of a woman’s back, and with the other he waved toward the shop assistant. “Another mutt making noise? Gabby, get rid of him!”

The golden haired young man turned to the soldiers, then threw his hands up and shrugged. “I’m very sorry, it seems like the boss doesn’t feel like entertaining. I think you should leave. To avoid any unnecessary trouble.”

Hammont raised his sword to hack at the upstart. He stopped when he heard a rattle, and the blade of his weapon tumbled to the ground in several pieces. The tip lodged into the ground with a thud.

The Magistrate pulled his hand back and looked at the hilt of his weapon with wide eyes. His expression was one of utter disbelief. He didn’t understand – it was like his sword just decided to fall apart on its own. His attention snapped back up when he felt a gust of wind, and suddenly the feeble-looking blonde man was right in front of him. Quick as a specter, his hand latched onto his throat and began to squeeze through the many layers of fat.

The shop assistant was faster and more cunning than anyone Hammont had come across before.

But the former guard captain was no slouch either. He swung his arm around and broke the blonde man’s choke-hold, then stumbled back a few meters.

“Ey?”

The blonde man looked surprised that the fatty had slipped from his grasp. There weren’t many low-level footpads that could, after all. It looked like there was more to this meatball than rolls of lard.

Hammont took several steps back. His face was a mix of blue and red and he gulped for breath. It was already very clear who was the superior fighter between the two, and he was afraid today he might have met his match. Still, he adopted a tough posture. “I am Hammont Seacrest, Magistrate of Sandbar Station, under the protection of Skycloud domain. You are trafficking in illegal materials and breaking the law, and you’ve just assaulted an officer. Do you understand the consequences of what you’ve done?”

The blonde assistant idly rubbed his nose. “Don’t scare me like that. This is the borderlands, there’s no use using the elysian boogeyman here. Out here its fists that do the talking, and you seem to know a thing or two. Come on, let’s see what you got.”

The assistant rushed at him again, but every movement seemed erratic and hard to read. It left Hammont confused, unsure how to defend. He was sure this fight was over before it even begun, but suddenly it was stopped by a languid call from the rattan chair.

“Wait a minute. What did you say your name was?”

The blonde haired man’s fingers were inches from Hammont’s eyes. If the shop owner had been half a second later his assistant would have plucked them right out of his skull.It’d been a very long time since Hammont had encountered someone with this sort of skill. Sweat was pouring off his forehead.

The shop owner waved the girls away, rose to his feet, and slowly walked over to the Magistrate.

The man’s face was completely unfamiliar. Black eyes and hair, a black beard, tanned skin. He bore a rather sardonic expression and a handsome enough face. Hammont figured he had to be around twenty years old. A small pudgy bird with golden feathers hopped up and down his shoulder. There was a strange air about him – a sort of untamed, feral dignity. Like a proud alpha wolf. Or a hawk, just come of age, with its wings spread and spirit free.