It has come to my attention that they will be leaving town for an extended trip and will not be expected back for some time. I do not wish for them in person, simply that I be given irrefutable proof that the job was done. Standard pay, they are only merchants afterall.

  -Unsigned Note-

  Joe and Moira locked eyes with each other as they heard the approaching footsteps. Someone walking along the road wasn’t in and of itself a bad sign. Someone coming up behind them after they’d been stopped by a road block was another story entirely. Moira reached back and knocked on the little window that separated the driver's seat from the interior of their cart.

  The wooden shutter slid back to reveal a curious Sarah. She gave her mother a questioning look.

  “Baby I need you to lock the main door in the back and the window shutters. Don’t open them until I tell you to ok?” Moira said as calmly as she could. The footsteps were closer now, the rhythm telling Joe their owners weren’t in any hurry to close the distance. As nonchalantly as Joe could, he reached down to the floor of the driver's seat and picked up his handshaker.

  Sarah looked like she wanted to ask a question, but a look from Moira sent the little girl back into the depths of the cart. A moment later Joe heard the sound of the rear door latching, followed by the locks on the windows. He shot Moira another glance and wasn’t at all surprised to see the smith's disc mace already in her hand.

  “Afternoon squire.” The voice came from Joe’s left and a little down. The man there looked about three weeks out from a good bath. His clothes were sweat stained and rumpled, possibly having been white at some point in the past. Of more immediate concern to Joe however was the sword belted around the man's waist. He hadn’t drawn it yet, but his hand was draped over the pommel in an easy way that worried Joe. The prompt from his tutorial spects only confirmed his fears.

  Jaarek Moresean

  Profession: Highwayman, Illicit Bountyman

  Species: Human

  PL:1

  The bench seat of the cart put the man’s head at hip height, forcing their new acquaintance to look up into the sun to see Joe. At least he’d be at a disadvantage if he tries anything. Joe thought to himself as he looked down into the man’s pinched face.

  “What brings such fine travelers out this far from home?” The man continued in a dangerously pleasant tone. Moira gave a grunt causing Joe to glance over her way. Another equally scruffy man was on her side. This one however hadn’t been content to just stand next to her. Even now, despite the look on Moira’s face and the weapon in her grasp, the man’s hand rested on her knee. Before Joe could react, there came a rattling at the back of the cart as the locked door was tried none too stealthily.

  “It’s impolite to ignore people, squire.” The man on Joe’s left said, bringing Joe back to him. He pronounced “squire” the same way a gangster might say “pal” and Joe was under no illusion of what these men ultimately intended. Deep breaths Joe, the two of you aren’t helpless, Sarah is safe in the cart and there’s a supply of potions back there that should be able to fix us up if needed. He tried not to think about how they were all grade 1 potions, grade 2 being illegal to transport without permits.

  “Oh coming from Acadamyway on our way to visit family around and about.” Joe said with as much levity as he could fabricate. “Bad luck that tree fell onto the road. What brings you out here?” He rolled his shoulder, bringing the handshaker into a better position to grab it for a downwards swipe.

  “We’re woodsmen.” The other man rumbled as he patted Moira’s knee. The blacksmith had reached her limit at that point and contemptuously brushed his hand off her leg. This earned her a glare which she returned at twice the wattage.

  “Enough of this pussyfooting around,” grumbled the man on Moira’s side. He drew a long rapier and grabbed a handful of Moira’s dress. “Give us everything you’ve g-.” He got no further as Moira brought her disc mace around in a backhanded arc that terminated across her assailant's jaw. The angle was awkward, preventing her from building up as much power as the weapon needed for a true strike. It was enough however to cut open the man’s cheek and force him to take a step back.

  Joe didn’t wait for the man on his side to react. He brought his arm around in an overhand swing that allowed the handshaker to slide out to its full length before connecting with the back of the man’s head. His assailant was smashed into the side of the cart before rebounding back and into the small ax head of the weapon. The contact wasn’t strong enough to cleave into his skull, but it did open up a nasty gash in the top of his head.

  An incoherent bellow of rage signaled the return of Moira’s own opponent, but by then Joe was committed to his own fight. A swipe at his legs, barely avoided, told Joe that while the high ground might be nice, maneuverability was likely more useful. Joe jumped, trying his best to aim for a spot that would give him enough time to react if his attacker pressed him. When he felt a white hot line of pain suddenly blossom along his leg, he knew he’d not made it. Joe landed awkwardly, clutching at his right leg where blood ran freely from a long gash across his calf muscle. He tried to get to his feet, but the pain prevented him.

  He was forced to make an undignified roll a moment later to avoid another blow from his attacker. “Fucker,” hissed the man as he loomed over Joe. “It would have been so much easier for you if you’d just come quietly. Now we’re going to have some fun with the two of you before we turn in your bounty.” Joe rolled again as the man struck, but this time it had been a feint and Joe was struck a solid slash across the shoulder by the man’s actual attack. Joe scrabbled away, unsure of where his handshaker had ended up. He rolled onto his back and looked up into the evilly grinning face of the bandit as he raised his sword for another strike. Just behind him the brox milled about, clearly agitated with what was happening.

  A desperate plan formed in Joe’s mind. As the bandit committed to his attack Joe pushed up and kicked out with all his might. His boots caught the man in the stomach, overbalancing him and throwing the bandit back between the two animals. The man snarled and flailed to free himself from the entangling harnesses. Before he could get too far, the bronx on either side of him struck.

  Their razor sharp beaks flashed out, each animal delivering a vicious peck to his neck right where it connected to the shoulder. They must have hit a major artery each, as the bandit was dead before he hit the ground, whereupon the two animals set to work removing flesh from bone. Joe chose not to look.

  A sickening crack followed by a howl of pain told Joe Moira was giving as good as she got. Limping around the grisly feast, Joe's breath caught in his throat. Moira was indeed holding her own, but Joe could see it was just a matter of time. The unknown third member who'd been trying unsuccessfully to unlatch the rear door had given up and joined the fight with Moira. Said fight had not gone the way he had hoped. “You bitch,” he hissed through gritted teeth, clutching a clearly broken hand to his chest. “I'm going to make you suffer for that.”

  A moment later he had to duck as Moira's mace went whistling over his head. She wasn't wasting breath on words, instead focusing all her energy into a constant roll of swings that would have looked graceful to Joe, if he wasn’t so terrified. Blood flowed from long gashes in her arms where it looked like she hadn't quite succeeded in deflecting blows. Her other attacker still had his weapon, which he wielded with remarkable dexterity at odds with his rough appearance. It was him who was really giving Moira trouble. As Joe watched, he used the distraction his compatriot had caused to score a good thrust into Moira’s shoulder. The blow caused a scream of pain from Moira and a lopsided grin from her attacker.

  Joe's handshaker was still nowhere to be seen. In desperation he grabbed at the first thing he could find and threw it at the bandit. The dirt clod went wide, almost hitting Moira when it sailed over the man's shoulder. It still had the desired effect however, as the bandit twitched away from the movement in his periphery. Moira took the opening, managing to get her disk mace past his guard and straight into his ribs on his off side. The man's sword dropped from his hand as he clutched at the gash Moira’s weapon had left.

  That signaled the end. With one dead and the two other injured, the fight went out of the bandits. They broke and ran, not even stopping to pick up their weapons before disappearing into the undergrowth.

  “Joe are you ok?” Moira ran over to where Joe lay sprawled out on the ground and began checking him over. His gashes were deep, but not so deep as to put him in immediate danger of bleeding out. Moira's own wounds were little better.

  “I'll be fine, just get me the potion bag from the cart.” Joe responded through gritted teeth. He did his best to apply pressure to his leg wound but there wasn’t much he could do about the gash across his shoulder. Moira hurried off only to return a few minutes later with the bag and a worried looking Sarah in tow. The young catgirl was pale, but had a determined look on her face that surprised Joe. Guess she’s made of steel, just like her mama.

  “Sarah, get out the red bottle and some of the clean cloth ok?” Moira asked as she dropped the bag next to Joe and began working at his belt.

  “Hey, not in front of the kid” Joe probably would have gotten smacked if he’d not been so badly cut up. Instead he got a glare from his love. He did his best to help her get his ruined pants off without further comment.

  The slash to his leg looked bad before they removed his pants. Afterwards, it was even worse. Fresh blood welled out of the still open slash in a sluggish stream that made Joe wonder how he hadn’t passed out already. Probably shock, once the adrenaline wears off this is going to suck. Carefully, he leaned over to give Moira room to clean and dress the wound.

  Taking the cloth from Sarah, Moira wet it with the grade 1 healing potion before dabbing at Joe’s leg wound. While a grade 1 wouldn’t be good enough to properly close the wound. It would work as an antiseptic and clotting agent, giving them time to get to a place with better options. Before his eyes the bleeding slowed to a stop before the area scabbed over in a leathery patch. If left alone it would make one hell of a scar. Moira wrapped a long bandage around the area before moving on to Joe’s shoulder.

  He was about to remove his shirt when he felt Moira grip the back of it and rip the garment along the slash. Flipping the loose end up over Joe’s head, Moira got to work on his shoulder. The wrapping job was harder on that one because of where it was located, but eventually they got it all in place. Next they worked on Moira’s shoulder and forearms. Sarah was a big help as Joe was starting to shake uncontrollably as he came down from the high of the fight. Once Moira was squared away the three of them came together for a gentle hug.

  The last obstacle in their path was the downed tree. It was no forest giant, but by the same measure it was no mear sapling either. Joe set his boot against the trunk and gave it an experimental push. The tree rocked slightly, but not enough to make him very confident about being able to lift it, not with his shoulder in the condition it was in.

  “Well, what do we do?” He asked, looking back at Moira and Sarah.

  Moira, who hadn’t let go of her daughter since they’d finished patching everyone up , gave a shrug. “We can’t just pull it off the road by ourselves. It’d tear open your shoulder wound and probably mine if we did.” Joe nodded his agreement.

  “I was thinking the same thing. Do you think we could manage it if we cut it down into quarters? I’ve got that saw back in the cart.”

  “The top five feet definitely.” Moira agreed, stroking at Sarah’s hair. “After that I don’t know. Plus, do we have time before those two regroup and come back? We need to get out of here now.”

  “Why not tie a rope to the tree, thread it around that other tree and let the brox pull it backwards?” Sarah asked from her position wedged in her mother's arms. She indicated a stout pine not far off the path that was slightly forward of where the fallen tree was. Joe looked at Moira.

  “Do you think the brox are strong enough to do that?” He asked.

  “They can pull a cart.” Moira said, still stroking the little girl's head. She smiled down at Sarah before planting a kiss between the cat girls ears. “I think we’ve got ourselves a plan.”

  Joe had to agree, so he rigged the rope up to the fallen tree before running it around its standing brethren and onward to the cart. He was understandably leery about approaching the brox after seeing what little of the bandit they’d deemed inedible, but they had apparently gotten their fill and only glared at him as he secured the rope in place. With a little more effort and a lot of swearing from Joe as he tried to make the brox back up, they were on their way again.

  “We’ll need to report this when we get to our next stop.” Moira told Joe as their cart rattled on. She was staying inside, still holding Sarah as the little cat girl seemed as unwilling to relinquish her mother as her mother was to let go of her. They’d kept the little window that faced forward open so she could still talk to Joe however.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Yeah, I don’t remember bandits being that much of an issue on my journey into Academyway” Joe grumbled. Granted, that’s because I teleported in but Moira doesn’t need to know that. Plus this way I can find out if banditry is common.

  Moira nodded, despite Joe not being able to see her through the tiny window. “They shouldn’t be anywhere near the main roads.” She groused. “We pay taxes to maintain and patrol the roads. I swear if the guard is slacking there’ll be hell to pay.”

  Pay Joe thought, his mind winding back to something the bandit he’d fought had said. ‘Before we turn in your bounty’ that’s what he’d said right? Why would we have a bounty on us? “Moira” Joe tried to sound casual as he asked his question, “One of them said we had a bounty they were trying to claim. Why would we have a bounty?”

  “He did?” Moira sounded genuinely confused by the question. “We shouldn’t. The only ones capable of issuing bounties is the local guard and they almost always ask for the individual to be brought in alive. The only other people I know who’d issue bounties would be criminal gangs and I highly doubt they would advertise.”

  Joe gave a grunt of acknowledgement before shrugging. “Unless there's a black market for potions I'm somehow unknowingly cutting into I have no idea what it would be about.”

  “Maybe you accidentally purchased stolen magical items?” Moira hazarded.

  “Or refused to purchase…” Joe mumbled as an unpleasant idea started to percolate through his mind.

  It was well past nightfall before they made it to the next inn, but by unanimous agreement they had chosen not to try and sleep by the side of the road. Initially the guards at the compound gate hadn’t wanted to let them in. Once they had explained what had happened, backed up by their still fresh wounds, they had finally relented and allowed the cart through.

  All of the available camping spaces were occupied, so Joe paid the extra fee to have the brox stabled and them housed in the inn building itself. The room was nothing fancy, consisting of a large straw stuffed bed and two side tables, but it was enough for them. The three stripped off their day clothes, slipped into their night clothes, and were off to sleep almost immediately.

  In the middle of the night Sarah had a night terror. It took Moira and Joe both soothing her for the little cat girl to calm down enough to finally get back to sleep.

  <><><>

  Joe sipped at his yara, still bleary eyed and vacant from their less than restful night. His healing wounds itched abominably, but he knew better than to scratch the scabby skin holding in all his blood. Across the table Moira, who looked just as tired and uncomfortable as Joe did, whispered soothing words into a still rattled Sarah. Poor thing, Joe thought as he watched the two of them. I guess it didn’t all register with her until she had the nightmare last night. Sarah had been attached at the hip to her mother since waking up and showed no intentions of being beyond touching range of her any time soon. Joe made a mental note to be the driver that day so the two of them could be together.

  His thoughts were interrupted when the plate bearing his breakfast was plonked down in front of him. He gave their server a polite smile before turning to his food. Thank the gods above that bars aren’t the only universal constant. Joe thought as he tucked into the wonderful savoryness that was biscuits and gravy. Joe’d been over the moon when he'd seen it on the menu, and now that it was in front of him it was everything his heart had missed. The gravy was rich, creamy, and studded with spicy bits of sausage flavored in savory herbs. The biscuits were as big as his fist and piping hot. It had even come with a set of eggs cooked perfectly and basted in clarified butter. The meal did a lot to heal Joe’s soul after the ordeal of the previous day.

  Moira and Sarah had both opted for some sort of fried pancake Joe wasn’t entirely familiar with. They looked similar to a dutch baby, but were flatter. Both had been served with fruit jam and honey. The meal was a subdued one, each of them focusing on their own food and thoughts. Once it was done and the trio were on their way to pick up the brox Joe broke the silence.

  “Hey Sarah?” Joe squatted down next to the little cat girl. Both his knees popped, but he tried to ignore that. “Want a piggyback ride to the cart?”

  “Should you really be doing that with your shoulder and leg wound?” Moira asked, the tone in her voice making the answer quite clear.

  “It’ll be fine, I’m feeling a lot better and Sarah’s not that heavy. We’ll be careful.” Moira still looked skeptical, but didn’t argue further. Sarah gave a happy squeak and scrambled onto Joe’s back.

  Immediately Joe felt pain shoot up his leg as he stood, but he masked it and started off towards the cart. “Moira, can you go get the brox while Sarah and I get the cart ready?”

  “No, I want to stay with mom!” Sarah interrupted, wiggling in Joe’s grip and causing his shoulder to throb.

  “Ah! Ok, ok, just don’t wiggle so much Sarah, I almost dropped you.” Joe said, altering his course to once again follow Moira to the stables. Getting the brox and walking them back to the cart didn’t take overly long. However, by the time they got there Joe had to put Sarah down. He tried to ignore the damp feeling on his back, hoping it was just sweat from carrying the six year old for so long.

  It was not.

  “Joe, come over here for a moment.” Moira’s voice was the honeyed tones of a baited trap. Straightening up from where he’d been finishing securing the brox into the cart shafts, Joe turned to look at Moira. She was standing at the rear of the cart with one of his potion bottles and a fresh cloth in hand. The look on her face told Joe he was in trouble, so he didn’t say anything. Instead he marched over and sat down while she tended to his reopened shoulder wound.

  “How’s you’re leg?” Moira asked as she worked.

  “Fine, it throbs a bit but I don’t think I opened it up again.” Joe answered.

  “Are you going to do something that stupid again?”

  “In all honesty? Probably. Sarah needed it.” Joe answered. He tried to turn and look at her, but Moira stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

  “Not done yet, turn back around.” There was no malice in her tone, just a resigned affection Joe couldn’t help but notice. He did as directed, picking a patch of grass about two feet in front of him to stare at.

  “I love you”

  “I love you too”

  <><><>

  They reached a town by noon of that day which gave them time to get properly patched up by a doctor. Despite manufacturing potions himself, Joe was still amazed to see them in action sometimes. This was especially true for healing potions. The doctor had Joe go through a series of tests checking his range of motion as well as the strength of the affected limbs. Once they were satisfied that there was no internal damage that needed to be addressed they applied a solution that dissolved the leathery scab holding Joe’s wound closed.

  “Letting it bleed first will help flush out any lasting infection” The doctor, a vibrant yellow lamnotta, had said as they wetted a clean compress with grade 2 healing potion and applied it to Joe’s leg wound. Almost immediately the pain faded and when the good doctor removed the compress a moment later, the wound was entirely gone. Only a thin white scar remained to mark the spot. “Unfortunately there will be some scarring in the area. It’s unavoidable when you stack potion grades like you did. Now turn around and take off your shirt.”

  Joe did as directed and the doctor repeated the procedure on Joe’s shoulder. “Just a moment, this one will need some stitches to get the edges lined up.” Joe caught Moira’s stern expression as the doctor got up to get their stitching supplies. While they were gone Joe gave her his best innocent look which only made her roll her eyes at him.

  To Joe’s shock, the doctor only used a mild topical anesthetic when applying the stitches, which meant he felt every single one of them going into his flesh as it happened. That’s it, I’m never doing something so dumb again, he lied to himself, I’ve had stitches now in both worlds and I can say without a doubt these suck worse! Moira’s patch job was a lot cleaner and within the hour they were discharged and on their way.

  The town was a quaint little village very similar to Academyway in many respects. It straddled the road, lining the broad, well paved track with shops and restaurants all scrubbed clean and white washed. Behind the commercial buildings, rows and rows of residential houses marched away to be lost amidst the trees that dotted the settlement. Back in Joe’s home world this town wouldn’t have likely even been a blip on a map. Here, positioned as it was right on the main highway, it bustled in a rural sort of way.

  “Should we stay in the cart tonight?” He asked Moira as he did his best to pilot their cart around oblivious pedestrians who believed too much in their right of way. Next to him on the bench seat Moira cuddled Sarah as the little cat girl turned this way and that in her arms to look around.

  “It’d be cheaper,” Moira sighed, looking down at her daughter. Her tone told Joe everything he needed to know.

  “But it would probably be better in an inn?” Joe responded, tilting his head just enough to indicate Sarah and getting a stealthy nod from Moira in return.

  “I’ll keep my eyes out and see if I can’t find us a good one.” He responded, pulling on the reins yet again to stop their brox from mowing down an idiot that had stepped in front of them. I should just let them eat another person.

  They eventually settled on an inn near the other side of town, it was the cheapest of the few with adequate space to store their cart. The proprietor, a jovial minotaur man and his Lanoli wife, were surprised they were renting a room but were adverse to turning away customers. With their cart secured Joe decided they needed something fun to take their minds off the trauma of the previous day. He decided to take his little family out for one of his favorite holiday activities; souvenir shopping.

  To his unconcealed delight, his new home seemed just as rife with the hole in the wall kitchy shops as his old one. The small town boasted no less than a dozen assorted confectionary, toy, art, food, and clothing shops, well above what the guild should have allowed for a settlement of its size. I wonder if that’s because of all the travelers. Joe thought to himself as he watched Sarah zip back and forth through one of the three toy shops in town. This one handled mostly wooden games or toys and the little cat girl was eyeballing a sky blue yoyo with a multicolored mandala pattern painted on it.

  “Hey Sarah.” Joe called out from where he was examining a selection of fret cut wooden puzzles. When he was sure he had her attention he held up two of the rough linen bags. “Do you prefer fish or birds?”

  The six year old gave this serious thought, her forehead scrunching in deep deliberation. “What color are they?” She eventually asked.

  “Uh, red and yellow birds or multicolored fish.” Joe answered after consulting the display models set up by their corresponding bins.

  “Fish.”

  “Fish it is then.” Joe threw the bag containing the bird puzzle back before strolling by Sarah and plucking the yoyo out of her hands. She started to protest, but when he didn’t put it back on the shelf her eyes went wide and her tail started thrashing back and forth. That girl is just too damn cute. Joe couldn’t help but smile to himself. He paid for everything before tossing the yoyo back to Sarah who did a little happy dance of excitement before almost immediately tangling the whole thing up when she tried to use it. Without being asked, the shopkeep slid Joe an extra string wrapped in a square of paper.

  <><><>

  In the end Joe did manage to salvage the tangled string and show Sarah how to get a yoyo to work. By the time they were packed up and ready to go on the following day she was zipping the little wooden thing back and forth like a pro. With her new found skill in hand Sarah turned to that most sacred of childhood pastimes; destruction. More than once she ‘accidently’ bounced her new toy off something valuable while trying to swing it around like a flail. Within an hour of being on the road Moira had had no choice but to confiscate the device until they were in less cramped confines.

  Not far out of town the trees began to thin out, slowly being replaced with lower lying plants and shrubs. By the time they stopped for lunch the area around them was given over entirely to grasslands and gently rolling hills.

  “We should be seeing Southgate soon.” Moira said as she passed Joe his cold meat pie lunch through the little window by his elbow. “We probably could have seen it by now if it wasn’t for all these hills.”

  Joe grunted in agreement as he claimed his lunch. The road had meandered back and forth like it had nowhere important to be, instead following the path of least resistance like they had been traveling on a petrified river. “Where are we going to store the brox and cart while we’re in town?”

  “We’ll stable them.” There was just enough room in the window for Moira to prop her chin on her arms and look up at Joe. “Mom and Dad are on good terms with the stable in town so we can probably get a good deal, that is if they haven’t already gone down and paid for the stable space already.”

  “Oh? Are they the generous type?” Joe asked, turning reluctantly from the beauty that was Moira’s face so as not to run the cart off the road.

  “To their only daughter?” Moira chuckled, “yeah. It took almost a year to convince them to let me buy out the shop instead of inheriting it.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “About a hundred gold and a proper bill of sale.” Moira responded. When Joe shot her a questioning look she shook her head. “I didn’t have that kind of money laying around. I borrowed it from the Bacarti’s. I’ve almost got it paid off, then I’ll own my family home free and clear.” Joe chanced a glance down to see the smile on Moira’s face.

  “That’s a good goal to have.” He said, smiling back at her, “my own parents traveled around too much to have a real family home.”

  “Oh? What did they do for a living?” Moira asked, coming up off her arm pillow with her eagerness to know more.

  Fuck, well I’m sure I can think of something. “They were,” Joe waffled for a minute as he tried to translate the oddity that was his childhood. “Devotees, you could say. They were in search of The Truth and traveled around to find it.”

  Moira’s raised eyebrow told Joe what she thought of that. “And what did they do to put food on the table?” She asked dryly.

  “Mostly, whatever menial jobs they could find. A lot of short term store associates or general repair work. Mom tried to open a cleaning business, but it was hard to maintain when we traveled so much.” He gestured back over their red and yellow vardo. “I guess something like this would be more my family home than anything else. Although ours was a lot…simpler than this.”

  Moira gave Joe a sad smile before reaching through the window to grip his forearm as far up as she could. “Well, don’t worry about it.” She said, giving his arm a little squeeze. “You have a family home now, here with me and Sarah.”