"What Was Mine" 14
The “armory” turned out to be nothing more than a big closet located toward the back of the main building. There wasn’t even a guard posted there. Bledder unlocked the door, which was metal at least, and inside I saw a whole lot of old rifles and pistols and knives and bayonets. They were mostly repurposed war surplus, and from the look of things they hadn’t seen a lot of action since that conflict. “Confiscated weapons are kept on that upper shelf,” said Bledder, pointing upward.
My eyes followed his finger, and there it was: my gun-belt. I reached up, and the second I touched the well-worn black leather, I felt like a fully free man for the first time. The second feeling was anger, as I noticed that there were no bullets in the ammo-loops sewn into the back of the belt. I brought it down and held it up with irritation for Bledder to see.He immediately understood the problem. “It is not this facility’s policy to provide paroled prisoners with loaded weapons.”Frowning, I buckled the belt around my waist, then tied the holster down to my right thigh and the knife-sheath that hung from the other side to my left one. I drew, and Bledder, despite himself, flinched. I swung the cylinder out and looked down the empty chambers, slapped it back in and worked the action, thumbing the hammer, pulling the trigger. “It’s a little stiff,” I observed. “You couldn’t have taken ‘er out and worked some ammo through it once in awhile? Keep it limber? Oil it up?” Bledder just looked at me and sighed. “I had a full pistol, full belt, and maybe 30-odd rounds in my duffel. I suppose that’s all gone?”“They’re still digging the hole for Frante. I’ll be damned if I’ll put more lives at risk.”“You think I’m that crazy?”“I think you’re capable of anything.”I looked deep into his pudgy face. “Maybe you were right about Peyd. He was a basically decent but weak man, given to petty pride and fear and lustful impulses. But you, Bledder…you’re a prime asshole, and you know it, and you like it.”“Are you challenging me to a duel, now?” I couldn’t tell if the notion scared or excited him.I shook my head. “Peyd knew it was his time to go at the end, but you’re planning on living forever, I think.” I stepped out of the armory. “Feed me. Something other than that fucking soup. I deserve at least that much before you send me off on your old gray mare.”I ate. It filled me up, I’ll say that much, and any more description is more than the meal deserves. I went by the stables and found Byson shovelling feed into troughs for the animals, horses and cells alike, to eat from. Byson was wearing the same clothes I’d ever seen him in. They just had more shit on them than last time. “You’re supposed to loan me a horse.”Byson looked up and nodded. He spit in the dirt. “Yep. Bledder wants me to give you a real nag, but…” He looked around to make sure nobody was listening. We were alone but for the beasts. “Truth be told, he doesn’t know squat about the stables. He leaves me to it. So did Peyd. They don’t like coming out here unless they have to. So…”“Don’t get yourself in trouble on my account.”He waved a beefy hand. “Not a chance.” He nodded toward the back of the stables. “Follow me.”I tromped after him. He stopped at the last stall and gestured me close. “Are you familiar with Adlandinan steeds?”“That’s a place in Araby, isn’t it?” My father had drilled me about a great many things when I was young, including geography. I could probably scratch out a map of the globe freehand, but sometimes it was convenient to play a little ignorant.“Yes, it is.” I stood in front of the stall gate, and Byson snapped his fingers and clicked with his mouth. A beautiful animal emerged from the dingy shadows of the rear of the stall. It was tall, silver, mottled with black, and it had a body built for leaving posses in the dust. It obviously wasn’t from around here, and in any open auction it would fetch far more than my stolen 18 champs. “This is Cuss.”I frowned. “You named at animal like this Cuss?”Byson smiled and shrugged. “My way of keeping him anonymous, I think. He scratched the horse behind an ear and produced a sugar cube from his pocket, which Cuss licked from his palm. “It was in my interests to convince people around here that Cuss was too ornery to handle. I’ve been hiding him in here for a few months, taking him out on rides after lights out.”I looked from Cuss to Byson, sort of in awe. “Are you giving me this horse, Byson?”He shrugged.“This isn’t the sort of solid duty-horse I was expecting you to hand over, friend.” I looked into Cuss’s eyes. “This fella’s a prince! How could you do this? You don’t even know if I’m good with animals.”“I know your reputation, Gunniver. You know that. Word is, you’re a hard man, but a good one. You don’t abuse drink, women or animals.” He grinned. “Well, sometimes the drink. You’ve killed men, that’s the truth. I’ve seen you in action. But…I just have this feeling about you, I guess. Besides…” He chucked Cuss under the chin. “I figure you deserve a strong, fast horse to ride out on in style, if you’re gonna be riding with my daughter.” He stared at me seriously. “You’re gonna treat Suelanne right.”I was bowled over. This man…this simple, good-humored, shit-covered, fat and unshaven man… “How the hell did you produce a good-looking gal like that?”Byson.smiled wistfully. “Her mother was even better-looking.” Byson extended a hand, and I immediately took it. He held it firmly, and shook it once. “She’s been wanting to get away since the day she came out, fierce and full of it. The birth was more than her mother could take…she was born of my wife’s blood, you understand?”“Yes, I do.”“You’re leaving this place with my most precious possession in the world, Gunniver…and also a pretty nice horse.”I looked at Cuss. I looked at Byson. “Byson, I hope I meet you again some day.”“The name’s Walt.” He sniffed, and he wiped a hand across his nose, his eyes looking a little moist. He patted Cuss’s head. “Let’s get him saddled up, then.” His voice was thick.You don’t meet a lot of guys in this world like Walt Byson. I suppose that’s the real bitch of it.