Setting: Old West
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fanfiction based on the CBS television series, The Magnificent Seven. It is in no way intended to infringe on the copyrights of CBS, MGM, The Trilogy Entertainment Group, The Mirisch Corp., or anyone else who may have legal rights to the characters, settings or song references. I don't own the characters. This story is strictly for entertainment. No monetary gain will be made from anything contained in this story.
Note: A tale for Halloween...
The heels of his black boots tore up the roof as he scrambled towards the struggling figures. His alert green eyes consumed everything in sight. He ran towards the area where the distinct sounds of male grunts could be heard. His eyes caught the glint of metal arching over Vin Tanner's body and he never hesitated.
"Damn..." J.D. whispered as the lifeless body of Eli Joe landed in the alley off the street shortly after the deafening echo of the fatal shot.
Chris was still a bit out of breath and looked over Vin's slumped back to the street below. The eyes of the other peacekeepers rose up to meet his. He scowled at the lingering doubt he saw there. He was glad he couldn't see the stunned face of his best friend. For those emotive eyes would be pooled in a shade of blue so painful it would tear his gut. He looked away from the accusing eyes of the others below and shoved his gun into the holster. He stood behind Vin and silently offered his sympathy, resting a hand on the downcast man's back. The Texan's body jerked in repulsion and turned away from him. One haggard, raspy word so full of agony it rippled through both of them split the disturbed silence.
"Don't."
"I'm sorry, Vin..." Chris replied in his sleep, tossing a damp head on the flattened, sweat-soaked pillow.
Buck Wilmington winced as the mumbled words came out again. The same nightmare his friend had been suffering for days was torturing him again. He shook the slick skin on the well-muscled shoulder and the body stiffened, one hand whipping out.
"Chris? Hey... Chris?"
He stepped back several feet and put up both hands defensively as shaken man's hand reached for his gun. The holster was slung across the bedpost and the first thing the the disturbed sleeper reached for. He'd come up to find his oldest friend who'd not shown up for breakfast, normally that wouldn't bother him. But since the shooting several days before the leader hadn't been sleeping or eating right.
"Whoa!" Buck suggested, still keeping his distance. "You awake? It's just Buck."
"Shit!"
"Sorry. This's gotta end, Chris. You're killin' yourself. You need a shave, a hot bath and good meal."
"Left my ma back in Indiana," Chris commented, brushing by the tall man to get to the chamberpot.
Buck sighed hard and watched a very shaky hand rake through greasy blond spiky hair. Accompanied by the unshaven face and dark circles rimming red eyes, it didn't make for a pretty picture - haunted. He found himself nodding in agreement, Chris Larabee looked haunted. And nobody knew better than he did, just how much pain that meant this man was in. He wasn't the type to spill his guts, he'd hold it inside until it ruptured. He knew the cause, they all did.
Eli Joe's death had cast a pall on the lean gunslinger. Buck knew how much Vin Tanner meant to Chris Larabee. The depth of that feeling was mirrored in every disturbed inch of flesh Chris Larabee wore. He'd found himself holding his breath that afternoon as Vin chased Eli across the rooftops. His heart rooting for the nimble Texan to finally catch the prey that had eluded him for so long. Finally, Vin Tanner would be able to clear his name. But all hope was dashed when Eli's body landed in the street. Like the others, he didn't mean to cast such a harsh look upwards. But the emotions shot out before he could curtail them.
The question still lingered. It hung in the air surrounding the brooding blond everywhere he went. It's garish whisper invaded Larabee's days and nights, creating a pain that liquor nor time seemed to be healing. It was the jagged claws of that cold echo caused the haggard body that was now before him. He wanted to help, to take the pain away. But he knew that was something Chris had to find for himself, for he was the one who issued the cold haunt.
"Say it, Buck." Chris's voice was clipped as he finished relieving his full bladder and tugged his pants on. "Before you choke on it."
"I'm not here to..."
"Shoot to kill," Chris supplied, grabbing his soiled shirt angrily and repeated the burning words that had tortured his days and nights. "Why did you kill him, Chris?"
"Nobody's sayin' that Chris," Buck lied and the blond knew it. He laughed coldly and turned away, grabbing his holster. "Chris, wait a minute!" Buck argued and caught up, grabbing the tense arm and spinning the disturbed man around. "Now, you're gonna listen to me. I've known you longer than anyone else, including Vin." He saw the pained eyes flinch and winced himself. They all knew that was the poison seeping through his system; there was nothing like guilt to eat away at a man's soul. Especially the soul he shared with the very man he'd hurt so deeply or thought he did. "You did what you had to do, Vin's alive."
"For how long?" Chris shrugged the arm off and sat down on the bed, shoulders slumped in defeat. He dropped his aching head into both hands and sighed hard. "I can't lose it, Buck. It's everywhere I turn. It's making my ears bleed."
"I know, pard," the rogue whispered and sat down next to his disheartened friend. He wanted more than anything to find the right words. To form that key thought or phrase that would lift the cape of misery from this strong man's shoulders. "He ain't blamin' you. He needed some time to himself is all. Hell, you can't blame him. He's been huntin' that dog for years."
"Yeah, and I killed him." Chris left the bed and stood by the window, watching the quiet town come to life. The sun was high and his eyes automatically went to the rooftop where the incident occured. The ghost of Eli Joe danced before him, grinning wickedly and twisted the knife of guilt in his gut."I might have cut Vin's heart out with that damned knife, it couldn't have hurt any worse."
"Look, we'll find a way to clear Vin. The judge is headin' for Eagles Bend to talk to Yates. He might be able to offer him a deal of some kind. How is you making yourself sick gonna help?" Buck tried but the body didn't move or react. Maybe it was time to get hard. He rubbed his jaw and hoped Nathan was up to stitching today. "You're supposed to be his best friend. Hell, you two are closer than brothers. How about acting like somebody who gives a damn about him?"
"Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" Chris turned slowly, his eyes narrowing in a simmering pool of anger.
"I don't know, Chris, why don't you tell me?" Buck leveled. "Look, it's done, over and that bastard's buried. How is this helping Vin any?" He waved his hand towards the unsightly body. "What's the one thing he wants?"
"You wanna preach, church's on the other side of town," Chris replied and turned towards the door.
"To clear his name," Buck finished and saw the lean figure halt. "That's what you can do for him. Yates knows more than he's telling. All the way over to Eagle's Bend when we were haulin' him and the others, I had a feeling he was hidin' something.. Ezra felt it too, he's stayin' on there until the judge shows up. I think Yates and Eli Joe go back some. I think he knows Eli killed Kincaid. What if he was there? Or he knows somebody who was?"
Chris's head cocked and his eyes narrowed as Buck's words pushed the others aside. The new words spun and swirled turning into a solid pattern of thought. An image of Vin holding the papers that freed his bound soul took hold. The look in the Texan's eyes as the realization of the freedom so hard sought not a reality was staggering. The blue eyes looked deeply into his own and flooded him with a powerful light. Why hadn't he thought of that before? Of course Yates was the key.
"Give him his life back, Chris."
It was just a few words but the first ray of sun that penetrated his dark prison since his bullet sent Vin's nemesis to this death. A role he felt himself assume since Eli Joe's eyes closed. He was the one who shattered any chance of Vin Tanner breathing free air. Buck was right, it was his duty to give that back to Vin. He owed him that much. And maybe, just maybe that cold echo would stop and those daggars would leave his heart.
"So talk," Chris requested quietly and watched a soft but steady Buck Wilmington smile appear.
Vin Tanner rode slowly back towards the path that would lead him home in a few days. Home? He pondered on that thought a moment. When did that ragged collection of dusty buildings and opinionated citizens become home? But then home wasn't always four walls and a roof, rather it was where your heart slept the easiest. For the troubled Texan that was in the circle of the six. An unlikely bunch of men from all walks of life who'd met one fateful day at a near lynching. Fate brought them together that day and still cradled them in her hands.
He shifted in the saddle and paused to wipe his brow. It was only midmorning and the sun was already hot. He took a swig of water, drawing the liquid into his hungry lips slowly. His eyes were a bit clearer than they had been when he left. He was so full of shock and hurt he couldn't see straight. It was Buck's decision to have him come along and a good one. Somehow the mustached man knew that the lingering unsettledness that lived in the air in town needed to disapate. That couldn't happen with Chris and him both harboring odd feelings in the same room.
Buck had provided silent support these last few days. He'd given Vin his distance, letting him ride far behind the others. He hadn't gone into town with them, rather he camped outside under the stars which is what he prefered. Buck knew that and gave him all the room he needed . Vin came into town to see the charges drawn up and stared so hard at Yates that the older man stumbled and fell under the glare. His smile formed then, hearing Buck's laughter in his ears and feeling that clap on the back. Ezra had spoken aloud what caused the rogue to laugh.
It would appear that Mister Larabee's unique ability to render fear in the heart and a threat of bladder spillage is a shared talent."
They were good friends and that feeling that he felt in the courtroom still lingered. He thought back to that day when Eli rode into town seeking on taking his life. More precisely to that moment when his six friends stood taller than he thought possible. They'd offered to each ride alone, without the cover of the other's watching their back, to six different directions to find Eli Joe. Just that like, they'd offered to risk their own lives for him. He wasn't used to that unwavering support and the wave that washed over him that day had been overwhelming.
Then there was the warmth and sincerity in the voices and the hands on his shoulder when the wagon rolled out with Joe's corpse. Again they stood by him, offering their full support and strength. Suddenly the pain in his gut wasn't so bad. That dulled throb that began when Eli Joe sailed off the roof was now subsiding. That only left one lingering problem, one so complex he didn't understand how to solve it.
Chris Larabee
In the initial hours after the shooting, Chris appeared to be okay. Then as darkness fell, the black of the night sky seem to bleed into the fateful gunslinger's soul. His mood became as black as that night sky and he wouldn't hear of absolution. Chris had taken a bottle and disappeared, but the tracker found him. Vin tried to talk to him but it didn't work. He tried to say the right words but the falter in his voice gave him away. He cared for Larabee like a brother and would die for him, so the mixed feelings inside were difficult for him to sort out. For right over Chris's shoulder he kept seeing Eli's shocked expression as the life force left his body when it fell from the roof. The word came up again and again, even though he tried to drown it.
"Why?"
He knew the same question plagued Chris, it was written in every painful line on his tortured face. Why had the bullet been fatal? The question lingered between them, an unspoken albatross of lethal proportions. They'd danced badly around the issue, stumbling and tossing out other harsh words instead. Then after a sizzling moment when blue sparks met green on a darkened street, they each turned away, seeking comfort alone to heal the twin throbbing wounds.
Vin had ridden with Ezra and Buck to Eagle's Bend to deliver the rest of Joe's gang. Yates was being held over due to the Federal Marshalls arrival. Impersonating a federal officer and kidnapping were both offenses that went beyond the local authority, in addition to attempted murder. Judge Travis had been on the other side of the mountains, hearing a murder trial. It was due to wrap up in a few days and they'd he ride to Eagle's Bend. So it would be a couple weeks or so until the charges were levelled. There were two federal marshalls keeping Yates under guard until the judge arrived. Nobody was allowed to see him. He didn't trust the lawman and with the choke of the noose still on his neck, who could blame him? Buck rode back to town to update Chris and Ezra stayed in Eagle's Bend to keep an eye out on things.
Vin couldn't stand the confines of the noisy, crowded town. The pain was too fresh and he needed the comfort of the only mother he knew. She was the blue of the sky and sweet breath in the air. She was the golden sun, the rippling river and the wild life roaming in the green hills. That's whose arms had comforted him these last few days on the ride home. This fork was split evenly between two small towns, Florence and Chester Springs.
The breeze kicked up suddenly and sent his hat down his back and his hair blew free. He paused, cocked his head and heard music. It carried on the wind, merging with laughter and other curioius noise. He urged his horse forward and paused on the crest of the hill. His eyes widened at the bright colors and lively sounds that painted such a pretty picture.
There below him spread out by the river was a carnival. A half dozen colorful wagons were in a half-circle painted in bright shades of yellow, red, blue and green. He couldn't read, so the words seemed like spiders to him but the pictures he undersood; they depicted the acts they presented. In the large area between the river and the wagons were a large spillage of men, women and children. Entertaining them were a couple dozen gyspies wearing bright clothes and wide smiles. Jugglers were entertaining a group of wide-eyed citizens. The dark haired men with shining eyes and bright red and yellow silk shirts and vests were tossing bottles and balls in perfect precision. A rope was tightly drawn between two trees and a very slim young man with tight black pants and a billowing white shirt walked deftly on the wire, leaving those watching gap-jawed in amazment. There was a line of women from one of the nearby towns waiting patiently by a green tent. Vin ducked his head and saw the image of a crystal ball on the side.
He leaned over his saddlehorn and smiled, watching a group of small childen, their eyes and hair as dark and full of life as their parent's. They danced to the music being played by a young man on an accordian. An old woman with several colorful skirts and a bright scarf tying her gray hair back kept time by clapping. His smile broadened when a large man wearing a red scarf, gold earring and multicolored shirt growled, hunched over and pretended to be a bear. He chased the children and dropped to his knees. They attacked him, tickling him causing an explosion of laughter. It tickled his ears to hear that sweet music; children surrounded by a loving family.
Family
That word caused his gut to stir a bit as he thought of his own 'family'. Suddenly, J.D.'s corny jokes didn't sound quite so bad. Josiah's deep voice and Nathan's broad smile were calling to him. Then a pair of clear green eyes appeared over the horizon and called him. With one sweeping glance at the happy scene below, he turned his horse and headed on the path for home. .
The old woman looked past her grandchildren to the rise on the hill. Her heart caught when the aged eyes saw the chosen one. She didn't have to see his features, she knew them as well as her own. Fair of face and eye, long of hair and lean, cloaked in the skin of the animal he will arrive as the Eve of All Hallows draws near. The words had been repeated for so many years from the mother of her mother's mother she knew when the first vision came it was him. The vision came every fall when Samhain drew near to those in the bloodline. A dark and troubling dream that fueled the hopes of her people. She'd accepted as a new bride from her mother and passed it to her son. Her granddaughter would also see the vision but only after her wedded night and that would be on the eve of the deed.
She'd felt the ripple in the atmosphere when the sun came up. She knew he was near; no one had to tell her. It was as the old one had prophesized many years before, when she herself was a new bride. Her heart soared and her eyes lit up in wicked delight. She smiled,tapped her chest and her wizened face nodded once. The wind changed and kissed her timeless features. Her gnarled hands moved to the amulet on her neck, one that was older than the time before which their ancestors were born. One that would free them when it was worn by the chosen one and drenched in his blood. At last the time had come.
"Soon... yes... very soon..."
The sun was bearing down without mercy on the two workers. Twice the younger one paused to wipe his brow. His dark eyes went across the roof to where his partner was nailing shingles down. He shook his head, pushing the image of a beer in the much cooler saloon away. Their hammers created a distinct pattern of tapping as they toiled. Suddenly the sound turned to one hammer only. The bearer paused, spit the nail from his mouth and eyed the other man.
"Somethin' wrong?" Nathan Jackson asked. When he got no reply, he crawled to the other side and followed the gaze of the smokey eyes next to him. "Ain't nuthin' down there, Josiah."
"It ain't natural, brother." Sanchez nodded to the far end of the alley where a group of birds were moving in a small puddle near the water pump behind the hotel. "Birds this close to town, gatherin' like that. I think it's a sign."
"Huh," Nathan snorted and rolled his dark eyes. "Everythin's a damn sign to yuh. Could be them birds was just takin' a bath. That puddle was any bigger, I'd be likely to join 'em."
"Could be," the ex-preacher replied, his smokey eyes thoughtful. "But the Lord does speak in mysterious ways."
"Yeah, well right now He's sayin' it's time for a beer," Nathan decided, putting his hammer down and rubbing his back.
"JOSIAH, NATHAN!"
"That boy sure does burn up a lot of energy," Josiah noted, watching the youngest peackeeper racing up the boardwalk.
"More like your ass is gettin' old," the healer replied and placed the tools back inside Sanchez's large metal tool box.
"Where's the fire, son?" Josiah asked, climbing down from the ladder.
"Might be tonight by the river..." J.D. gasped, finally halting by his two friends.
"Yuh run all the way from there?" Nathan asked, while the dark-eyed Dunne wiped his face with a kerchief.
"Casey and me were out riding and we saw them. A whole pack of them by the river. They're settin' up camp and that means trouble. We better warn everyone, no sense takin' any chances."
"Invasions always work up my thirst," Nathan decided, heading for the saloon.
"Especially river invasions," Josiah agreed, following his tall friend.
"HEY!" J.D. hollered, scrambling after them. "This isn't funny. We got trouble outside of town. "
"Trouble?" Buck's head came up at the table he was sharing with Chris Larabee.
"An invasion," Nathan said, taking a beer from Inez and leaving a coin. He took the chair beside Buck and stretched his long legs out.
"By the river," Josiah concluded, taking his own beer and joining his friends. "And you know how nasty they can be."
"Water invasion huh?" Chris perplexed, watching J.D.'s frustrations rising. Experience told him J.D. often got excited before all the facts were revealed.
"So are we talkin' frogs, fish or sea monsters," Buck added, shuffling a deck of cards and dealing each of the other three men.
"Hope it ain't that." Josiah took a look at his hand, frowned and tossed three cars back at the dealer. "I heard them green sea devils are hard to kill."
"Scaley bastards," Nathan agreed, electing not to take any cards.
"Are you all done makin' fun of me?" J.D. demanded, now at the table. He glared at Buck openly but turned to Chris. "Chris, you gotta do something."
"Sea monsters are a bit out of my territory, J.D." Chris replied with a straight face.
"Fine. Sit here and play cards. But when the town gets robbed blind and the women get stolen..." The disgruntled youth added, returning to the doorway.
"Stolen?" Buck sat foward, his handsome face wearing a smirk.
"Can't be," Nathan replied with a wide smile and nodded his head towards the rogue. "Buck's sittin' right here."
"Buck you steal somebody's wife today?" Chris quizzed the dark-haired man wearing a smirk..
"By who?" Buck chuckled and hollered after the very agitated Dunne. "What exactly did you see by the river."
"GYPSIES!" J.D. hollered back over the batwing doors. "Settin' up some kind of carnival, and that means trouble. If you won't stop 'em I will."
"Hell, J.D. shout it a little louder, they didn't ya in Texas."
"Vin!" the startled sheriff backed up as the weary sharpshooter ducked inside the saloon.
The tired tracker brushed past the young sheriff and ambled over to the table, nodding at the greetings he got from the others seated there. A boot moved underneath, pushing a chair out for him. The body that belonged to the booted foot that offered the seat remained rigid. The profile was trained ahead. Vin paused and eyed the somber blond whose face didn't reveal the answer he sought. A hand slid out, sending a glass then a bottle of whiskey. The offer was accepted and the thirsty newcomer took the first shot fast. He poured a second shot and slid the bottle back. The head turned and those penetrating eyes held his own. They were clear again and for now that was enough. He nodded once and got a small return of the same.
"J.D. you sure about this?" Buck asked, watching the silent exchange between Chris and Vin. It unnerved him at times how they seemed to say more without talking.
"No, Buck, I'm making this up. There's not a band of Gypsies a couple miles from here with wagons painted up and barrels of homemade wine."
"How many?" Josiah asked.
"One would be more than enough," J.D. answered and jumped a bit when Vin's shot glass his the table.
"Hell, ya best start warnin' folks t'nail their windas shut," Vin spat out tersly, "Afore they get their babies stole up and shoved on spits over a fire."
"Oh boy," Chris muttered, sitting forward and resting a single hand on Vin's very tense arm. He put a little pressure there and his efforts at calming the tracker were thrown aside along with his arm.
"All you all going to just sit around?" J.D. asked. "It'll be dark soon..."
"Ohhh," Vin stood up and waved his arms. "Sundown... they'll sprout wings and fly... snatchin' up innocent folks in their claws."
"Vin, calm down," Chris suggested rising to intervene. "J.D. you saw them setting up tents?"
"Yeah... and wagons. You should see their clothes. Red and yellow scarves on their heads, shirts all different kinds of colors..."
"...buckskins..." Vin hissed and saw the younger man flush with color.
"I didn't mean it like that, Vin, but they're not like us," Dunne replied. "You know how their kind are."
"Their kind?" Nathan bristled. "Yuh best explain that..."
"Hold it," Chris again tried to gain control.
"Why? Cause they're different?" Vin pressed his hot eyes burning intensly at the young Dunne. "Let me tell ya somethin' J.D. I been on the other end of that long nose yer growin'. I've had more than one boot and bottle took t'my body cause I weren't like the rest. Folks see this," he tugged on his buckskins, "and nothin' else. They don't know a damn thing about me. I been called names that would curl yer hair and spit on, cause I lived with the People. Jest cause yer dress different, talk in a different tongue and have different beliefs don't make ya the devil."
"It's not just me, Vin. Everybody knows how they are. If they weren't a problem they wouldn't have a reputation for causin' trouble."
"Oh yeah," Vin nodded thoughtfully. "Travelin' with their kin, tendin' t'their little ones, makin' folks laugh, takin' care of their old ones. Livin' off the land instead of bein' trapped inside wood and glass..."
"Vin, hold on," Buck interjected, "The kid has a point. Sometimes they do stir up trouble. They cheat their customers."
"So does Ezra and ya ain't runnin' him outta town," Tanner interrupted.
"Bad example, brother," Josiah added. "But he's got a point, Vin. Like any other group of strangers who are settin' up in near town, we should check it out."
"What's got you all riled up?" Chris addressed the fired-up blue eyed tracker. "Do you know these people?"
"I know bigots when I see 'em," Vin replied, then turned to J.D. "And ya outta know better than t'fan a fire like that. Could be their jest folks earnin' their way. Ya keep flappin' yer gums and stirrin' folks up there will be trouble. Hell, it ain't like Conklin and his kind need any help."
"Point taken, Vin," Chris conceded and eyed his best friend. "But J.D. has a valid concern. We don't know these people or what they might do."
"They ain't gonna slit yer throat whilst ya sleep." Vin defended, staring hard at Larabee.
"No, but they might swindle some of the people who look to us to protect them. And they might do something that will provoke a fight. They're very talented in handling themselves, Vin, with knives and their hands. I've seen them pass through territories before and there's bloodshed. I won't let that happen here." He paused when the blue-eyed Texan snorted in disgust and rolled his eyes. "You callin' me a liar, Vin?"
The room grew silent and the others shifted uncomfortably, each pair of eyes shifting to the gunslinger and the tracker. For several very pregnant moments, not even the air dared to move. Neither man gave an inch, both sets of eyes locked on and refused to budge. Then the leader accepted the lack of reply for an opening and took it.
"I've seen it, Vin. When I was a kid in Indiana a band came through and while some of them were entertaining the folks outside town, the bank got robbed and three men were killed, one of them was my uncle. He identified them before he died. After Sara and I were married I saw it again in Eagle's Bend. They're fast with their hands and the gambling games found one too many hot-headed loser ending up dead." He saw a bit of fallback and pressed forward. " We're the peacekeepers in these parts and it's our duty to keep this town safe. So if the folks in town want to go to the carnival, that's fine. But we'll be there to make sure nothing happens. Okay?"
He held out his hand and waited.Vin's eyes never left his and he could feel the anger rippling beneath the surface. It wasn't like him to get carried away like this and he had a gut feeling there was something unspoken still hidden inside.
"Fine, I'm gettin' a bath and some grub, then I'm headin' out. I'll camp nearby, keep an eye out." Tanner announced and left the group.
"Vin... I didn't mean... Vin..." J.D. called after.
"Damn," Buck noted, watching Chris's hand remain unshaken when the buckskinned stormcloud left the room. "Boy's got a burr up his ass."
"Chris, yuh better go after him," Nathan suggested. "Josiah and me will ride out and have a look."
"Okay." Chris waited until only Buck remained. He felt the dark blue eyes before he turned to see them.
"You didn't change your mind?"
"No, but he's all fired up now. I'm still leaving in the morning, I'll stop by this camp first and get a better understanding of the situation."
"You gonna use your usual subtle charm?" Buck teased and got a half smile. "Don't mind J.D., the closest he's ever come to meetin' a Gypsy is in the pages of one of them damn dime novels he's always buyin'. We got it covered here, plus if there had been trouble in the towns they've been to, we would have heard.'
"Yeah, good point, Buck," Chris nodded, "Wouldn't hurt to send a few wires."
"Consider it done. " Buck rose and took his hat. "Give that boy some warning though. Vin's got a bad habit of shootin' first when ya sneak up on him in the tub."
"Really?" Chris raised an eyebrow along with his voice and got a solid laugh.
"Well now he does have a fine lookin' ass, but you know I'm a breast man, stud." Buck winked and headed for the Post and Telegraph.
It was late afternoon and the little ones were napping. Most of the others were preparing for the new show. The tents were being readied and the costumes washed and sewn. At fifty-seven the tall well built leader of the clan could pass for a man ten years younger. There was no denying he was their leader. The short dark hair was just starting to silver and the deep set eyes held the commanding attention of anyone that caught them. He gave his wife's shoulder a gentle tug and headed outside the tent. He moved towards the small tent on the end, where his mother was waiting. Her eyes found his as soon as he ducked inside.
"Have you brought it?"
"Yes Mama," he deposited the bag on the table. Then he saw the golden bottle in her hand. One he'd only seen a few times in his life. His eyes widened and he approached her. "That's why you needed the herbs and blood."
"He is here. We do not have much time. Everything must go as the ancient one foretold." She rose and faced her only child. She carefully pulled out the amulet and held it up. "See, Alexi, see how it glows? Salbatore... it shines for him."
"The savior," he translated the meaning of the name, his eyes almost tranfixed by the green glow of the sacred amulet.
"On the night of my wedding, my own mother and grandmother both told me about Salbatore. It is as I have told you. I've worn this pendent since my wedding night. Never in all these years has it come alive." She took his hands and smiled up at him, her dark eyes shining. "I saw him today on the hill. He has come to us as it was to be," she caressed the glowing jewel. "and he be bathed in his own blood as it must be."
He gripped his mother's shoulders and stared at the near euphoria on her face. "Are you sure?"
"I feel it in my heart, but we must be certain. He bears the mark of the moon, so it has been fortold. We need to be certain and to protect him with the sacred oils. Nothing must happen to him before the eve of all hallows."
Alexi nodded and moved to the doorway, he peeked outside and saw his eldest child carrying water back from the river. Her beauty was breathtaking and the soft curves of her body drew the eye of many men. He nodded as a plan formed.
"Tomorrow by the fork in the river... we will find out." He turned back to his mother. "I have an idea."
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