Free the North! (Free Trader Series Book 5) Read online

  Braden was right in that Micah was spoiling for a fight. She was first off the wagon and walked straight toward the closest man with a sword. He’d probably never seen the cold glare of someone who had both the capability and intent of killing him. He held his sword in front of him until the last heartbeat when he threw it to the ground, thrusting his hands in the air. She pointed to the ground and he dropped, laying on his face. She picked up his sword, sneered, and threw it to the side. She continued to the next man.

  Braden climbed from the wagon and quickly unhooked Arnie. “I think I remember the plan, and I’m not sure that was it,” Braden said to Bounder. The Wolfoid chuckled in his way, took up his spear as the companions started walking toward the warehouse, spreading out and arraying themselves opposite the enemies that the Hawkoids had already shown them.

  From Brandt on one end of a long line to Arnie on the other, the companions followed Micah as she disarmed one man after another. It appeared they had no stomach for a fight.

  Bullies, Braden thought. The whole Provincial Government is nothing but a bunch of bullies.

  “You, there! Wagon Master, what are you going to do with that load?” Braden asked the driver at the front of the line approaching the warehouse and storage yards.

  “Why, master, I’m delivering to the warehouse as we all must do,” the man answered cautiously, seeing that the men who usually received the shipments were on their faces while a female warrior ground the heel of her boot into their backs.

  “No more!” Braden declared. “Listen, all of you! Go to the Market Square. The Provincial Government in Cameron and Whitehorse has been disbanded. Let free trade reign!” The wagon drivers cheered, waving their fists at the men on the ground.

  “What about the government officials and their warriors in the Town Square?” someone asked.

  “They have already been dealt with. You’ll find the good people of Cameron waiting for you. Skip the Town Square and go straight to the market! All of you, now go! When you have nothing left, bring your empty wagons back here. We need to do something with the goods in this warehouse,” Braden said with a sly smile.

  As the wagons rolled away, some pulled by water buffalo and some by horses, Braden looked at the men scattered along the ground.

  “All of you, get up and come over here,” Braden barked at the former government security men. The Wolfoids kept their spears leveled. “Leave your weapons behind and come here,” Braden reiterated in a calmer voice.

  The defeated group slowly got to their feet, dusted themselves off, and warily watching the fierce eyes of the female warriors, they ambled toward Braden. He put his sword away after a nod from the ‘cat.

  G-War perched bizarrely on the top of a fence post, watching the men intently. Braden counted on him being in the minds of their former enemy to root out those who would harbor ill will. He would have liked Aadi to be there, too.

  The ‘cat gave him a narrow-eyed look. Braden shook his head and smiled.

  The men formed a horseshoe around Braden. Fifteen of them in total and not a single one stood up to Micah. He tried not to grin while feeling Micah’s sense of pride in disarming them without having to kill any to prove a point.

  ‘You’re right, partner mine. They are just bullies with no stomach for a real fight. What do you sense, Prince Axial De’atesh?’ Micah asked, sounding formal, sounding like the President of Vii.

  ‘There are two here who you will never be able to trust. They enjoy the role they played and embrace the power they had. They will not change,’ G-War told the companions. He shared the image from his mind’s eye of the two men. Micah and Zeller were behind the group. Each picked one and then stormed into the small crowd. They both wrapped an arm around the men’s throats and dragged them backwards, twisting and throwing them to the ground. Micah asked for rope.

  The other men stood there dumbfounded. They knew that these two were evil, but wondered how the strangers were able to pick them out of the crowd without any of the men having uttered a single word.

  Nerise jumped from the wagon before the Rabbits could stop her. She had not been out of the wagon since they entered Cameron. Patrice and Delavigne had sheltered her from the worst of it, but thanks to the ‘cat, she could hear everything over the mindlink. She lifted her small chin and boldly walked toward Micah carrying a length of Amazonian rope.

  Micah kneeled on the man’s back while he complained. G-War shared what flowed from his mind, but he probably shouldn’t have. The images were hideous and they drove Micah into an unbridled rage.

  She grabbed the man by his hair and stood, dragging him with her until she ripped out a handful. He screamed in pain and turned, ready to fight this mere woman. Her sword was in her scabbard, so he saw his opening. He charged, head down like a bull. She dodged easily and pushed him past her. He staggered, but didn’t fall. He stood straight and tried it again.

  Only to realize the same result. He conceded that she was fast, but he considered himself more powerful. He waded toward her, fists up, ready to punch or grab. She waved him closer as she crouched in her wrestling stance. The group had formed in a circle around them. Braden stood shoulder to shoulder with the others. Skirill and Zyena perched on the peak of the warehouse roof, watching their humans with great interest, cheering for Micah’s quick victory. The Wolfoids pranced on their hind legs as they tried to see between the human observers.

  The man took a swing at Micah’s head, but he was too far away and she easily dodged it. She circled, letting him grow less cautious as he tried different ways of doing the same thing. She was letting him wear himself down. She hadn’t swung once. Then the taunting began.

  “Afraid? Look at this! We put down our swords and they’re nothing. A woman! I’m going to rip your head off, you ugly cank!” the man shouted.

  Braden looked at Zeller. The men had given her space while she still knelt on the other man’s back. He didn’t have any fight left in him, probably because she had his head twisted sideways with a thumb pressed deeply into a soft part of his throat. Braden mouthed the word, “cank.” She shrugged. She didn’t know what it meant either.

  Micah continued to circle, waiting, knowing that the man would make a mistake. Her icy stare failed to weaken the man’s resolve, but she didn’t want it to. The images in his mind made her sick to her stomach. People who could think that way had no business sharing the world with decent human beings. She intended to kill him with her bare hands. Pull the weed, as Patrice had said.

  The man was right-handed. Despite trying to hide it, all of his attacks favored his dominant side. When he feinted left, so he could come back right, Micah had him. She struck before he could complete his move while his stronger right hand was away from her. She caught his left elbow in her left hand and jammed the heel of her right hand into the back of his armpit. He pivoted forward, his head dropping as the strike made his left arm go numb. He took a knee in order to improve his leverage, but only served to weaken it.

  Micah swirled behind him, letting his limp arm go as she slipped her left arm around his neck. She pulled around to her left while her body continued past the man to her right. His head followed as she dragged him around in a circle. With a final pull and twist, his neck snapped. She let go and his lifeless body fell to the ground.

  She pointed to Zeller, who let the other man up. He hadn’t seen the fight, but stood shakily, unable to take his eyes from the dead man. Micah waved him to her. He took two reluctant steps and stopped. She walked at him and without hesitation, punched him in the face with all her pent up fury. He flew backwards, landing heavily. The first thing he did when he came to was cradle his broken face and whimper like a lost kitten.

  “There’s a jail cell with your name on it. Be happy that you live, at least for now,” she snarled in his face. She kicked him in the stomach to reinforce her point that he should be happy.

  “I want to be like you,” Nerise said in her small voice, having followed Micah to the second man. She had
forgotten that the little girl was there.

  Her anger instantly evaporated. The dead man was half a stride from the girl’s foot, so Micah walked around the other way, making Nerise turn away from the corpse. Micah kneeled and pulled the girl to her, hugging her before picking her up and balancing the girl on her hip. Nerise was probably seven or eight turns old. She wasn’t that small, but Micah felt compelled to hold her.

  Braden watched his partner transform from a deadly warrior into a caring mother over the span of three heartbeats. Maybe it was the mother part that impassioned her to fight for freedom, for herself, for her family. Braden couldn’t have been more proud. What was one more addition to their already large and extended family?

  With Micah’s help, Braden hoped that Nerise would eventually forgive him. He would go out of his way to earn her trust, because anyone who wanted to be like his partner had to be a good person.

  Securing Cameron

  They tried to figure out what to do with the men while they waited for the wagons to return. The man with the swollen and purple face would have to be taken to the jail, but they had no one to do it. Braden asked, counting on G-War to see the truth.

  “Who wants to take this crap pile to the jail?” Half the group raised their hands. “Understand that you’re not going to get your swords back. Your days of having any authority over the good people here are at an end.” Braden pointed to two men. They seized the injured man roughly between them.

  “You’re going to take him there, turn him over to whoever is running the jail, and then return, right?” They both nodded vigorously. Braden looked to G-War, who looked back through drooping eyes, as if he was ready to fall asleep. Braden took that as approval.

  “All right, off you go.” Braden sent them away. The others looked surprised. Trust had disappeared in the north, and these men were part of the reason why.

  “What do we do with the rest of you?” Braden asked the group.

  “Let us go?” one bolder than the rest ventured.

  “To what end? What would you do that would repair the damage you and your like have caused?”

  “We can do just that, repair the damage,” the man probed.

  “How?” Braden put him on the spot. The man had no answer, but others came to his rescue.

  “We can help secure the trade. We can distribute the goods from this warehouse and then shut it down.”

  Braden liked that, but saw it a little differently. “You make that happen, but then offer the warehouse as a place to temporarily store goods at no cost to the traders. Deal?” They nodded and said they agreed. Braden went with them to see what remained in the warehouse. He was appalled, then angry all over again. It was half full with the things the poor people of Cameron were doing without. Food to clothing to tools. There was a little of everything.

  Braden noticed an odd marking on some of the items. When he asked, the men told him those were items destined for Jefferson City.

  “Who decided what they got from all this?” Braden asked, suspecting he knew the answer.

  “The representative from the Provincial Government,” they told him. Either the man dead in the Town Square or the other one in the jail. Who were they to decide?

  Braden left the men to sort the materials and get them ready to load, even those goods marked for transfer to Jefferson City. Braden walked back outside, saw the companions lounging around the wagon, and joined them. Micah still carried Nerise. He smiled at them both, ruffling the young girl’s hair and lovingly kissing his partner as he cupped her face in his hand.

  “What’s with us and little girls?” Braden asked playfully. “We seem to be collecting them.”

  “There’s just too much life not to share it,” Micah replied philosophically.

  “And we’re still fighting a war. There’s this many of us—” Braden pointed at the companions scattered around the wagon. “— and we have to fight a small army. I doubt your stare-down will work, although I hope it does, for their sake,” Braden stammered as his partner gave him a hint of the icy stare, before laughing.

  “As usual, we have the question of who do we leave in charge while we move on? Someone will have to tell everyone that the Provincial Government is gone and that they need to get back to business as it used to be. It’ll take a while for people to figure it out again, but they’ll get there. It’s a better place they’ll return to. That monstrosity—” Braden pointed at the warehouse. “—was built for the sole purpose of stealing from the traders, the farmers, everyone.”

  “Let’s return to the Town Square and see who’s still there. I saw some people who looked like they understood. We can give them a shot, without giving up the gains we’ve made. We can’t trade one slave master for another. We fight for freedom, not different shades of tyranny.” Braden stopped. Everyone there knew what they fought for and they willingly followed Braden’s lead. He’d already convinced them that freedom was worth fighting for.

  One of the men leaned out of the warehouse and watched as the caravan made to leave. Braden looked at him and then yelled, “Stay here and do what we talked about. Anyone tries to leave, we’ll find them and kill them. We have friends all over the place and as it turns out, no one who mattered supported the Provincial Government.”

  “Me neither!” the man yelled back. “You don’t have to worry about us, mister.” And Braden believed him.

  The pile of swords in the back of the wagon was taking up an annoying amount of space. They’d turn them over to someone who would keep them in the hands of those who’d protect the trade.

  Braden waved happily at the two men who had escorted the other to the jail. They were on their way back to the warehouse. They pointed that way and Braden gave them the thumbs up.

  When the caravan arrived in the Town Square, they were greeted by a buzz of activity. It looked like the citizens were ready to have a massive celebration. People waved at them and cheered as they stopped the wagon and dismounted. All of them, the Rabbits and Wolfoids included, joined the people. Braden got everyone’s attention and introduced them to the intelligent creatures of Vii, telling everyone that they had equal status with any human.

  The citizens of Cameron were accepting of anything their liberators told them. They lined up to greet the creatures. Nerise happily translated for Patrice and Delavigne. Zeller spoke for the Hawkoids, Micah for the Wolfoids, and Braden for the Hillcat, which meant that Braden said nice things as opposed to the rude statements that G-War delivered in an impressive non-stop diatribe.

  After the meet and greet that Braden, Micah, and the others had to do, the first wagons from the second run to the warehouse arrived with food and supplies. A man wearing torn clothing and a huge smile stood and looked at the wagon, not the supplies within but the wagon. Braden recognized that look. It was the look of a trader.

  “I’m Free Trader Braden and I can always recognize a trade brother. What routes did you ply?”

  “Caravan Guild. They call me Stretch. I ran between Jefferson City and here, sometimes to the farms to the northeast. I’m pleased to meet you. I’ve been locked up for three moons, I think. They accused me of skimming from my load. All they wanted was to take my wagon.” The man pointed to the wagon he’d been looking at.

  Braden led him by the arm to it, before yelling at the wagon’s driver. “This your wagon?” he asked.

  “It’s the one they gave me,” the driver replied, pointing to the government building.

  “That’s great, thank you. The wagon belongs to this man. Turn it over to him, we’ll all help unload,” Braden finished. The driver shrugged, tied off the reins, and climbed down. Stretch maneuvered the team and wagon expertly into position where the volunteers quickly separated the food from the supplies and began cooking a feast, right in the Town Square. Braden looked at Micah. She nodded.

  “We have some smoked pork we can add to the feast,” he said. Bounder and Gray Strider jumped into the wagon and looked at the smoked pork with long faces before han
ding it down to waiting volunteers.

  ‘Doesn’t matter to me,’ G-War told them all. ‘I never liked that stuff, but it was better than soybeans. Can you imagine? Me? Eating soybeans? That would signal the end of days.’ The ‘cat ran through the crowd toward an alley where they’d seen pigeons pecking at scraps on the ground.

  “Is it just me or has G-War gotten unusually philosophical since we left Aadi in the desert?”

  “No, it’s not just you,” Micah replied as she continued to carry bundles from Stretch’s wagon. After that, three more wagons arrived and those were quickly unloaded. The natural leaders of the town took over, many of whom had been held in the jail cells, like Stretch.

  Braden and Micah found it refreshing to be able to step aside. They didn’t have the time or energy to restore Cameron to what it once was, so they were pleased to see the townspeople take responsibility for that themselves. The only thing they asked was that Braden and his companions finish off the Provincial Government. They’d seen the Old Tech firepower that they used and wanted that on their side. At least everyone was polite enough not to ask where they got it.

  A commotion from the alley suggested G-War had been successful hunting the local wildlife. Bounder and Gray Strider looked like they wanted to join the ‘cat, but Micah looked back sternly. They settled for some of the smoked pork, but felt guilty and were happier sharing with the hungry-looking citizens of Cameron.

  During the feast, Braden asked if anyone knew where he could buy fifty water buffalo. Ears perked up at that. There was a herd to the east, triple that size, but they’d been under the control of the Provincial Government. It had been forever since the people had any water buffalo on their dinner table. For their freedom, the former rancher said he’d make sure that the livestock was waiting when the caravan returned from Jefferson City.

  Braden was torn, but only for an instant. The feelings of joy from the people that relished their newfound freedom were overwhelming. For trade. For freedom. As he’d suggested to Ava, someone has to fight for peace, otherwise the peace you have isn’t what you want. Freedom has a price, sometimes a very steep price that most people don’t have to pay. Someone would pay it, though, someone like Braden and his companions because they believed freedom was worth it.