"You got some kind of Ability for this?" I asked in awe as I offered a hand for the mean-eye'd beast to sniff, "or did you just know I got a way with hogs?"

  "I smelt it on ye. Didn't even need my Ability to know. Plus, you got a look in your eyes that says crazy. Talked shite to me brother too, so I know you ain't no push over. Girl like this," she slapped the massive pig on her muscular shoulder, the hog screamed, not in pain but excitement, "needs a brave hand. A little madness too."

  I took a moment to think.

  She was a clever one, this Marry.

  Outfoxed before I even set foot in her door. Here she had offered a beast so far out of my price range I could buy a horse, a drake, a runner, and a saddle for each. Yet, we both knew I would not say no. Not to an animal as fine as that.

  I smiled as her pink tongue lapped at my palm.

  Dark, small eyes shone with intellect. Not dullness of no common mount.

  Lotta folks didn't know it, but pigs, even foreign ones like this, they're damn smart.

  "I'll do it. One now. Four more in the future," I said already dickering down.

  You never paid asking price.

  "No." she shook her head, her soft blonde hair bouncing, "one and a half now. Six in full by Winter's start."

  "You said one earlier."

  "I said one for the pig. Another half for the tack and bridle," she muttered as she crossed to the back wall and drew down a complex harness, "unless you think you can bareback a razorback. I seen the way ye look at me, and I assure you, she's a tougher ride."

  Oh, man.

  Tamp down on that heat now. You're a gentleman Lorcan, least as far as she knows.

  "Uh well, you have me there, miss. I will pay extra for the tack, but six gold coins is enough for my own field of hogs," it was back home.

  Six gold was enough to feed and house a man for two seasons.

  "Not in the sands," she said, "and this is a good deal. You'll not find better. You know what the cost of a trained razorback is?"

  I shook my head.

  "Twenty-five gold coins. That's what I sold the other three for," she said with a little smirk, "the only reason this girl is still here is because she's a mean bitch."

  I smiled as the pig continued to lick my palm.

  Maybe to folk what don't know animals, they think they're dumb. But hogs are smart. And they know the smell of fear. The trick to gettin' them to like you is two fold.

  First, be confident.

  Second, secretly bribe them with treats.

  I fished a piece of jerky out of my pocket and handed it to her as Marry went on.

  "Look I can't let you have her for any less than that, so take the deal or no," she said, "I'm sure my gobshite brother mentioned it, but we have a... delicate situation here. If you're one of Tawny's, then I'll be glad to help ye, but I can't make a gift of this girl."

  "He did. Said you was getting stolen from. That true?"

  "Aye. Some shite from the Empire. Bandits in all but name. Came and 'requisitioned'" she punctuated the word with her fingers, "a few horses and a racing drake. I told 'em to fuck off. That they couldn't have 'em. They beat me and my hands bloody and stole the animals anyway. Guards told us to pound sand."

  I stroked my chin as I continued to bribe my new best friend.

  "I'm gonna need to pay a little up front," I said, "that's only fair. But what say I work a little of the rest off. I can't be in debt for so much more than I have."

  She gave me a look.

  "How much?"

  "One up front. Then I sit here a few days. If those fellers come, well..." I set a hand on my hip, and drew back my vest a bit, so she could see my guns, "I'll kill every last one."

  The pig took a bite at my fingers and I yanked them away.

  "What say you to that, Miss Marry?"

  She thought on it. Looked to the pig, the to her-

  Her brother?

  Damn, that Northman was quiet. I hadn't heard him at all. But I didn't flinch.

  "Hroth. Look at 'em. He blooded?"

  The big lad gave me a good look over, then took a whiff of the air.

  "Yeah. I smell the Strix on his fingers. And he's a killer. Got the marks in his eye. He could give them hell, at least."

  Marry gave a smile and nodded.

  "Good enough. I'll go get the papers and a pen. You owe me four gold total, one up front. The other two I will pay you for sitting around till the end of the month. Can your job wait that long?"

  Technically... No.

  But I could Tawny had said I could delay my contract if I needed to. It would cost me a fraction of the pay each day, but as long as I arrived in less than a week? It was still plenty of coin.

  "Sure can," I said, "you got a spare cot for me? And meals?"

  "Oh he's a needy little shit," scoffed Marry with a shake of her head, "you can bunk with her, in her pen. Food? No. You'll be on your own. But water is free, and so is the roof. Deal?"

  I held out a gloved hand.

  "Deal."

  We shook.

  And just like that, I owned a razorback pig.

  The first thing I did was take a look around the property. Much as I wanted to saddle up my hog and have a ride through the sands, I needed to understand the layout. If these alleged bandits were coming I wanted to be ready.

  They had a nice setup. A big corral, a small farmhouse, and a barn that was mostly empty. All of it tucked in the shadow of the Northern gates. I went and found Marry after my walk and picked her for details. She told me they came just the last week, and she thought they'd be along again.

  Evidently, it wasn't unheard of for outfits like theirs to take whatever they liked from the common folk, so long as they did whatever task the Magistrates set for them. In this case my employed suspected they were slave hunters, or slavers themselves, with a license from the crown.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  It was funny. That kind of thing had been outlawed in the mainland. A man could be sold into indenture for debts, by ain't no way in hell could you just ride to a random village and start collaring the young'ns.

  But out here? In this new and untamed West?

  I suppose it really was another world.

  After talkin' with her I moved on down the lane. Figured it was smart to ask the neighbors what they had seen. If these supposed bandits were coming here, then they took more than just horses and feed. There were small crops of ghostleaf. Stunted orchard trees. Food and smoke were things men need.

  "Afternoon," I drawled as I walked up on a dark skinned man pulling weeds from mostly sand, "you seen some rough men in the last few weeks?"

  He looked me over.

  "I see a rough man now," he quipped, voice as deep as the sea, "but you don't look the type to raid a man's farm. What do you want?"

  "Just to talk," I said, taking my hat and offering a slight dip of respect, "Miss Marry hired me to do something about ya'lls bandit problem. You seen 'em come up the road? From where?"

  He spat on the ground and rose from the dry dirt.

  "They come from the North. Probably have a hideout in the coasts. Seen them ride east too, for one of the oasis. Bring back Unwanted in chains. Make slaves. They sell to the Magistrates and to the brothels. Not the mines."

  Aces. Just what I thought.

  "I guess they in the takin' of women and young men then? Specialty goods for the special men in power?"

  He shrugged, "Sounds like you know more than me. You got a posse with you?" he asked.

  I shook my head and flashed my tags.

  "Nah. Just me. Why?"

  "There are six of them. And you a little fella," he said, "no offense."

  Dammit. People hittin' that hard lately. I wasn't that small. In fairness, I was just an inch or two shorter than the man. And once I'd recovered from my time in the dark, I'd be twice as wide. Muscle grew thick on a Northman's frame, even if I was only half.

  "No offense taken," I said, "but I'm a lot meaner than I look, sir. You don't scoff at the rattleviper's bite just cause he's small."

  He puckered his lips and gave a bouncy little nod, "No. I just kill them with a shovel before they can get close."

  I laughed.

  I liked this old man. He had the look of a hard worker and a clever mind.

  "Noted, old timer. Last question, how many times you seen them come and go?"

  "Twice. In the last month. Top of every week they came and demand my crops. And then again to demand more," he frowned, "I can't give them much more. Can't pay my taxes or feed my grandbabies. Not even with my Ability can I outgrow that greed."

  "Thank ya, let's see if their shovels are long enough to stop me."

  He nodded and tipped his straw hat to me, "If not, get behind cover. I can never catch those snakes when they go for a hole."

  I walked on back to the stable. I had some ideas. Time to organize my gear, then finally take a moment to reward all this hard work.

  I set down my shotgun and my pistols to maintain and clean. I had left the long rifle at the bar. It just wasn't reasonable to carry such a weapon, not if I didn't have a horse or a mule. Now that I had a pig I'd find a place for it on the saddle.

  I disassembled all three weapons with a little work. My hands were a ill suited for delicate tasks and I didn't know exactly how these arms were put together. But a little investigation, and couple borrowed tools, and I had them stripped and laid bare.

  I applied a little oil to where it was needed, cleaned the soot from where it wasn't wanted. And reassembled each of 'em in quick order.

  After I finished that I sat down with my Rune Book, and gave her a quick check.

  Step 0 (99%)

  Had I gotten so close to one for killin' them three in the jungle? Likely. I hadn't been in a real scrap since that day and the way of my growth had been clear. That meant I could expect to find myself at the next Step if this came to blood, and I knew it would. Another meeting with the Kraken, and hopefully some better boons.

  Damn tentacle arms.

  Just before I closed it up, thinkin' myself done, words wrote themselves onto the page.

  Task Available

  Customer: Divine

  Description: Kill Thomas Hartwell and his gang.

  Reward: Luck, in whatever you do next.

  That was... Ominous and vague. The Kraken had mentioned I might be hassled by forces unseen, asked to do things by angels and devils both. I didn't much trust the offer. What was luck? Who was Hartwell?

  I had no interest in assassinating a stranger for some nameless god or demon.

  I closed the-

  Additional Information: Thomas Hartwell, Slaver. He has stolen from my flock, chained too many of my children, and sold them to the Empire of Man. Make him pay.

  Uh huh.

  Okay.

  Well, guess that assuaged any of my concerns. I take it all back. If you're paying me to do what I meant to anyway, well, I'll take your money. Or whatever it was the gods paid with. Didn't matter, 'Ol Mister Hartwell was a dead man, and that was that.

  I turned to the next item on my list of tasks.

  The fun one.

  I took the saddle and bridle, a heavy harness with too many buckles and straps, and found my pig.

  "Evening young lady," I pulled the pin from the gate and let myself in and closed it carefully behind me, "how about we go have a ride?"

  Snort.

  Chuff.

  Squeel! Squeel!

  I raised a hand, and she charged. I had to act fast.

  Back, back over the gate like a rat fleeing fire.

  Boom. She hit the wood like a ton of undercooked bacon hit your guts.

  "Okay, okay. We're on the same side. Look, I bought you! You and me are goin' to be best of friends. Let's just-"

  She charged again. And I stepped back from the stall on reflex.

  Oh now you done it. She smells fear, weakness.

  What are you doin' son? Your mama taught you better than this. You bought a little affection with some jerky and oat sweets, you did not buy respect. You did not buy ownership.

  "Hey!" I snapped, and she stopped short, "that's enough!"

  Silence. Two small eyes peering at me from the dark.

  "Now you listen here you little bristled bitch," I said, "I'm the boss. You're the pig. If you want to fight, we can fight. But at the end of the day, it's me holding all your feed."

  I grabbed a bag of oats and poured it into the palm of my hand.

  She sniffed, drawing in a gust of air and breathing out with a hungry chuff.

  My fist closed and I ground the dry grains to dust, casting them to the straw and mud.

  "I will starve you, pig," I said, "you will die of thirst, and hunger. The longer we can't be friends, the weaker you'll get. I ain't a cruel man, but I'll be damned if I let you run rough-shod over me."

  A whistle, soft and low.

  "Threaten' my sow, hunter?" asked Marry as she slipped up to my side, "bold man."

  She held two mugs, and passed me one. The sweet scent of beer and wheat hit my nose.

  Honey and oats. Fine brew.

  "No threat miss. I don't make those. Not to men, and not to beasts. That's a promise. A promise to break her will if she can't be my friend."

  She smiled and sipped her beer.

  "Come and sit with me. I'll give you some tips on dune boars and how to tame them. I heard you was already asking about those thieves, scouting my lands and preparing for war. I appreciate a man who does what he says."

  "Thank ya," I said, taking a seat next to her, "I aim to please."

  Marry sighed, "Wrong tree tomcat. I got no interest in you, beyond your skills as a killer."

  "You sure?" I drew my hat down and gave that little smile that usually made the girls weak at the knees.

  Nothing.

  "I prefer a woman's touch to a man's," she said no room for argument, no invitation for questions.

  Oh.

  Well fair enough.

  "Okay," I said, and lifted my hat, "that's a shame. Anyway, pig tips?"

  "Sure. First, you can't buy love. Only loyalty. And you can't buy it for good. Keep bribing her, but you also need to show a kind hand. Brush her down often, oil them tusks and the bristles, and make sure she's comfortable when you ride."

  "I expected to do most of that, except oilin' her tusks. What else?"

  "Keep a watch on her diet. She's not a common farm hog. Needs more meat than grain. Let her go hungry tonight, then tomorrow go fetch a haunch of grounder from the market. Feed her raw. Make her feel the kill. It's an instinctual need. That will tame her down a touch."

  I nodded slow. Good advice.

  "Do that each day, and you'll be on her back before your first week is done."

  "Sounds like a plan, miss. Say, where should I be sleepin'? You really making me take the stall?"

  She rolled her eyes.

  "No. You'll sleep in the barn, on the second floor. I got a guest room and it's a good vantage from which to watch. Keep that gun close," she patted the barrel of my scatter, "and watch for any riders coming in. You make good on what you said, and you'll have friends here, Guildie."

  I gave her a nod and rose to my feet.

  Got some sleep.

  Good thing too, cause that next morning?

  Gunsmoke and blood...