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"No. Dohi:yi, de:dan:wa:ki Two Swords. Peace, Warrior."
A slender hand reached out and patted away the tears on the Guardian's broad and scarred face.
That m"Ha:wa, Eagle Mother[P4]." Reluctant to lose the opportunity to save Benny, the
aga:ki nodded. Like the saying goes, you don't mess with the mommy . . . especially when She is God. The sword whispered in his brawny hands, the Warrior Two Swords bowed his head.
"The Grey-wolf is in terrible distress." The diminutive Eagle-Mother said in her gentle way,
"He:wa, my son Two Swords. Wait and see. Warrior Ana:Rey does as he knows best." She touched the man, and her smile grew wan.
The hair on the back of his neck shifted. Henri shuddered. His balls ached, a sure sign something wasn't kosher. He slapped Benny again, and only got a trickle of blood running from the boy's nose for his trouble.
He cast a sorrowful look at the Aga:Veil.
"Lord? Forgive me." Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Henri glanced around, trying to find his owner, Ryan. He gusted a moan of relief. The old fart was staring with unsuppressed glee as they loaded the woman's corpse in the meat wagon.
Not much time, my man.
His guardian nodded at the Eagle-woman and grinned coldly at Two Swords.
A thought whispered into his soul, shocked him. Henri started.
"I . . . ah? Benny? Umm, now that old Carl is spoiled beef, that mama of yours, she's gonna need a man around. Yeah," Henri said, warming to the task as the delightful shape of Anna Waya eased into his mind. A bead of sweat rolled down his face and his tongue snapped it away. "A real man. Not like Ivanovitch was, that punk. Dude let them female clients at the Manse use him for a slug." Henri shuddered. "I figured him for the type. Yeah . . . uh . . . he really liked it, didn't he, when they whipped him, and made him lick up their messes." Henri gagged. He had seen the sadism Carl had been forced into on some of Ryan's favorite home videos. Carl did it to save Benny. If not for his kid Carl would have died before giving in to crap like that.
"That Ivanovitch, he really liked taking it up the . . . umm, you know. Didn't he? You can tell me, son. I adopted you. Well," he said darkly,
"ol' man Conners did. Right?"
Todd bared his teeth and his boot knife. A slender hand tightened on his shoulder, the Eagle Woman whispered the same message in his ears. Todd scowled and backed away. He flushed darkly, ashamed of coming so close to losing control. Todd spun on his heel, darting away from Benny and the danger old man Ryan represented.
Henri saw him flee and didn't blame the boy.
"Hey, man," Henri whispered desperately in Benny's dulled ears. He glanced at Ryan. The old man was hobbling through the crowd, hitting anyone who got in his way with that dammed cane of his.
"Is . . . Is it true, Grey, that they nutted ol' Carl? Umm, but I bet that mother of yours is just begging for a real man. Y' know," he said and his smile became genuine and lecherous, "that mother of yours, she's one hot looking babe." Ryan was almost on them. Henri began to sweat. He swallowed hard and rashly whispered, "Kid, you think if I slipped that woman a few bucks now and then, that she'd let me -"
Benny's fist smashed into Henri's face. The huge head rocked back, then tilted forward to gaze in bemused wonderment on the dark and enraged face of his adopted son.
"Hey, ay:o:til," he said gently and licked blood from his split lip. "Good to have you back. If you weren't so derned ugly, I kiss you." He chortled at Benny.
"Up your ass, man." Benny spat on the ground between them and raised his fists.
Seeing a growing commotion and hearing the bellows of outrage coming from his limousine, Ryan scurried up.
"Enough, damn it," he snapped. "Both o' ye, get in me car, or else, mind you." He rasped a curse at Henri. "I'll be taking care o' you, me boy-o, when we get back to home."
"Get in," Ryan demanded shrilly. Past caring, Benny snarled a smile and spat on him. Ryan screeched and jerked out the remote. He pulled out a handkerchief, tossed it at Benny, and leered. "Wipe it off," he said in a quiet, dangerous voice. Benny crumpled the silken cloth and tossed it under foot to grind into the dirt.
"No? Boy, most would o' made you lick it off. I am a decent kindly feller, now, but you raise me ire, you do." He glanced at the spittle and grimaced. "Lick it off," he whispered, his voice shaking and angry, seething with passion. "Lick it off me, or so help me, I'll sell you to that bitch VanTur more dead than alive."
Coldly amused, Benny snorted. He leaned forward and raised his hand to slap Ryan to the ground.
Ryan grinned and his thumb depressed the stud.
A motorcycle roared up, the rear tire slammed Ryan against the limousine. The old man screamed, fainting from the shock and was battered through the open door. His remote shot up. It was snatched from the air. Something that glowed with dark fire and sun-like glee tossed it underhand into the traffic inching by. It landed on the centerline of the northbound traffic on route 309 and was instantly crushed.
Benny got one bad shock, and then Todd was there, screaming in his face.
"Get on. Get on, Benny.
Arrogant and bitter, Benny stared at Henri. He threw a leg over the saddle behind Todd.
"Like you said to me once, Pappy." Benny glowered at him. "It ain't never over." They roared away, Benny staring back at Henri until they were lost from sight.
"No, kid. It ain't never over."
Chuckling deeply, Henri wiped the sweat from his eyes.
"Thank you, Lord," he murmured and winked at the sun. "Bless you, God. And EmenV."
A handsome Italian car screeched through traffic and slued onto the side of the road near the accident. An even handsomer woman hurried from the car and raced to the crushed motorcycle.
Henri cursed softly. A half moon the size and shape of a small woman's finger nail appeared in his right ear lobe and he yelped.
Henri dived in the limousine and slammed the door.
"Dammit. I mean Jesus," he gasp and rubbed the mark. "Woman, what'd you do that for?"
The Eagle-woman snorted and shook her finger at Henri. She leaned through the windshield and gently kissed the mark.
"There," she said in a dry, mocking humor, "Mommy make it all better?"
He mumbled something at her, and she nodded, fading from his sight.
Ryan groaned and sat up. Henri scowled at him. The old man bared his teeth and instinctively reached under the coat. His hand spasm. The pocket was empty.
"Who was that woman?" he demanded, his voice thin and querulous.
"You don't want to know," Henri said darkly.
Startled, the old man shivered.
"Take me home." He bared his dentures in a snarl and groaned, rubbing at the knot on his head. "By damn," he muttered angrily, "those vituperate 'breeds. Where are they? When I get me hands on them -"
"They're gone, Mr. Ryan," Henri said, his voice quiet and gentle, a sure sign to anyone who knew him Henri was on the point of madness.
"Liar," Ryan screamed. "Filthy dammed liar." He froze, his deeply wrinkled face graying and stiff. "Me medicine." He choked and clutched at his chest. "Help me-"
Henri took a deep breath, held it, hoping for more instruction from that pretty lady with the wicked fingernails. He sighed. The Eagle-Mother was near. She always was, but silent. He shook his head. If she was quiet, it meant he was on his own. He studied the graying face for a long moment.
The ancient Deusenburg purred to life, eased out into the slow, controlled line of traffic.
The radio blared to life.
'Another body was found in the passageways of the Lunar Colony D' Angelo.' The reporter paused.
"I'll kill you for this, Henri," Ryan gasped. "I'll see to it your sons are castrated and your daughters and wife are sold in slave markets across that hell of North Africa. Give me my dammed medicine," Ryan screamed and half-collapsed on the plush seat.
"This little bottle, Mr. Ryan?" Henri shrugged, a relaxed and pleasant smile on his face. "Mr. Ryan, what do you want with it?"
Ryan clutched at the tiny bottle, whimpering as the pains in his chest became a fire raging out of control. His heart pounded, erratic, shuddering and burning in a harsh, thread that was more frightening than the look on the slave's face.
"Please, Henri . . . anything-"
"Sure, Mr. Ryan. No problem. Just like the last time. Just like time before that when I asked for something and you promised. And didn't deliver."
'This corpse, too, was mangled beyond belief.'
Henri turned off the radio.
"Sounds like some shon:gili is havin' some fun, yes, sir." He looked at the bottle and held it out of the grasping, colorless fingers of the man who bought and owned him. "I do care about you Mr. Ryan, I sure do. Let me help you, ok?"
Henri gasp. "Oops, sorry." The bottle fell from his fingers and bounced on the floor.
Ryan tumbled after them. Henri snatched him back. "Now, sir, it ain't right a man with your wealth be crawling around on the floor.
Ist? I'll get them."
He raised his foot and brought it down hard, crushing the bottle, the cap, and the minuscule tablets within.
"My, but you always did say I was one clumsy nigger, didn't you, Master Ryan?"
He stared almost gently at the strangling man beside him, and smiled.
The smile hardened.
"One thing you don't know about me, Mr. Ryan, is that boy and me, we're related. We are indeed, sir. Cousins, in fact. His Gramps Waya and mine were brothers. I'm the boy's
Adu:tsi.eans sacred-uncle in the Old-Speech. You know, Mr. Ryan, I'd die for that boy." He smiled and shrugged, saying in a quiet aside, "So what's a little murder?"
He ripped the cushion from the headrest and held it over Ryan's ashen face until there was no movement.
Henri turned down Blackman Street and tossed the cushion out the window.
Ani:aga:ki, the Warrior-guardians of the Sun, took the cushion and played pocatoc with it through the traffic until it dissolved into shreds and dust.
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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