Chapter 5

Sid stood in the middle of the road waiting for the three men to arrive with the Damsel he was to rescue. It was approaching noon and that was a problem. He had expected them to arrive by now and wondered what was holding them up. He hoped that it was because they were lazy or the Damsel was fighting her situation. It wouldn’t be good if they were late because she was holding them up because she couldn’t keep up. It would be even worse if they had changed routes.

He resumed his stretching exercises expecting that he was going to have to fight soon. The exercises also helped pass the time. Another half-hour passed before the party finally came around the bend of the road. As they approached his location, he had his first chance to study his opponents. There were three of them, each a very rough looking character. He recalled his briefing about each of the men.

Leading the trio down the road was the man they called Harold One-Eye. He got his name after loosing his left eye in a bar fight. Physically he was a very short and stocky man, but very strong. Often he would earn money by bending horseshoes with his bare hands. He looked like a hard man, but was actually a man who became tired of working hard for the little he earned. It was clear by the large club he carried that he wasn’t a highly trained fighter. Of course, a man with a club didn’t need to be highly trained.

Walking behind Harold was the man they called Smart Art. He was the true leader of this little gang, primarily because he was the smartest of them all. That wasn’t saying much since the other two were significantly challenged in the brains department. He had a bow slung over his shoulder. The bow wasn’t as much a cause for concern since it was broken. The real threat was in the form of the beat up sword that he carried in his hand. The fact that he carried it in his hand suggested that the sword wasn’t his normal weapon. If it were, he’d have gotten a sheath for it and taken better care of it.

Stumbling behind Smart Art, a young woman struggled with the rope tied around her hands. He recognized her as Jennifer Secretary, the Damsel whom he was supposed to rescue. She appeared to be somewhat overweight by earth standards, but he thought her attractive. At 5’7” and 150 pounds, she wasn’t exactly fat. She had the same kind of figure as one of the sex symbols of the late fifties - an hourglass figure with soft curves.

Bringing up the rear and prodding Jennifer along was Giant Johnny. At 6’6” and 250 pounds, he was a very large man for Chaos. He tended to use his height and weight to overcome his opponents in a fight. He could take a punch to the chin and gut very well, to the point where it had almost no effect. His only weapon was a club and Sid knew that he was fairly good with it. However, the big man never turned down the chance to fight unarmed against another unarmed man. Giant Johnny, stupid as a post and just as mean as he was stupid, enjoyed the sensation of breaking bones with his bare hands.

The party stopped about ten paces from Sid taking in his relaxed posture with his staff clearly in hand for use. Irritated at the delays that they had already experienced that day, Smart Art waved Giant Johnny up to the front to take care of the problem. As Johnny stepped forward, Art challenged, “Who are you to stand in our way?”

“I am Sid Jones,” answered the young man watching Giant Johnny move. The one word that Sid would not use in describing Giant Johnny was graceful. The big man had a grin on his face as if he were looking forward to a chance to fight someone.

“Why are you here?” asked Art.

Sid looked over at Jennifer and saw that she was uninjured. He had expected as much since that would make it easier for them to sell her. He answered, “You are trying to sell that young woman into an indenture using forged papers. I am here to stop you.”

Jennifer reacted to his pronouncement by looking up at the young man with hope in her eyes. Her excitement quickly fell as she compared him to the three men guarding her. She decided that he didn’t stand a chance against the giant. Disheartened, she stared at the ground hoping that the man wouldn’t get killed on account of her. So far, her trip to Chaos had been perfectly miserable and it promised to get worse. If they sold their forged papers of indenture to someone else, the new papers would be legal, according to the laws of Chaos. She faced a future of prostitution to pay off the indenture.

The fact that the young man knew about the forged papers disturbed Smart Art, but he didn’t dwell on it. A quick beating by Giant Johnny and this guy wouldn’t be able to create any problems for them. All they had to do was get one person to pay for her indenture and they’d get away with at least a thousand conchs. He laughed and replied, “It’s no business of yours. Get out of our way.”

“I can’t do that,” replied Sid bracing himself for the attack that he knew would come. The time spent stretching had been well invested.

“Get him, Johnny.”

The huge man lumbered up waving his heavy club as though it were as light as a feather. One blow from that club and Sid would be history. The story of David and Goliath flashed through his mind. Sid didn’t waste a moment and jammed the end of his staff into the center of the giant’s forehead with as much force as he could. The big man took another step forward as though sleepwalking and then fell to the ground unconscious. Sid stepped back to avoid the falling giant, hoping that he hadn’t killed him.

Smart Art shouted in dismay and anger at seeing the big man fall. Without a second thought, he raised his sword and charged forward with the intent of skewering Sid on the point of his sword. Expecting the reaction, Sid stepped to the side while swinging his staff to the back of his attacker’s head. Art flew past and landed on his face, not to move for the next several hours.

There was only one man left facing Sid and he looked shocked at what he had seen. Without waiting for Harold to attack, Sid landed a blow across the top of the squat man’s head. Sid had a vision of a cartoon character crumpling like an accordion as the man went down to the ground in a heap. Harold One-Eye would see double for the next few days as a result of that blow.

Facing the amazed young woman, Sid bowed and said, “Greetings, Jennifer Secretary.”

Jennifer stared at him for a moment unable to believe that he knew her real name. Only a Hero from Earth could possibly know her real name. The smile that broke across the young woman’s face was priceless. It was motivated by more than a mere rescue from a life of prostitution, but the realization of a dream come true.

She curtsied and, in a voice that promised pleasures untold, said, “I am yours to do with as you please.”

That was not exactly the response that Sid had expected. Smiling, he said, “That must wait for later. For now, we must make good your rescue.”

Jennifer came over to Sid and took his hand. Her eyes practically devoured his body. She had heard rumors about how Heroes performed in bed. After seeing him in action, she started to believe that those rumors were true. She thought that the sooner she was off this planet, the sooner she would know the truth. Excited, she said, “Yes, let’s go.”

The sound of a man clearing his throat from a spot beside the road caused Sid to spin around with his staff ready to use. Derek, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed against his chest, was watching them with an amused smile on his face. He wasn’t amused by the skill he had seen, but the willingness of the woman to do whatever Sid might ask. Gesturing with his head towards the men on the ground, he said, “You may wish to collect your ‘spoils of war’ before you go. You are entitled to all that they carry.”

Surprised to see the man standing there, Sid asked, “What are you doing here?”

“We were curious what you were doing and Gregor sent me to watch,” answered Derek. The strange routine of bending and stretching had puzzled him for the first hour that he had watched Sid. It reminded him of the sparring matches, but there was no one on the road. It was when the men showed up that he realized that Sid had been preparing to fight. The fight in the middle of the road was an extraordinary example of martial arts. He would remember what he had seen for the rest of his life. He nodded in the direction of Jennifer and said, “I see that you had a rescue to perform. I shall not speculate as to how you knew where to be.”

Sid shrugged his shoulders in a gesture that didn’t convey anything. He was not sure that he trusted Derek. The sudden appearance of the man here in the middle of nowhere was rather disconcerting. Gregor had asked a lot of questions, most of them dealing with his background. He waited to see what the other man would do before moving.

Raising an eyebrow at the delay, Derek went over to Giant Johnny and retrieved the coin purse. Opening it, he removed the contents - three quads and nine pinches. He tossed them over to Sid and dropped the coin purse next to the large man. A search of the body didn’t reveal any other possessions or weapons other than the club. Looking up at Sid, Derek asked, “Do you want his club?”

“No,” replied Sid as he examined the quad. It was twice the size of a pinch, but had four times the gold embedded in the glass. He added the coins to his coin purse.

Derek moved over to Smart Art and removed his coin purse. After untying the purse strings, he dumped the coins into his hand and shook his hand to spread the coins out so that he could count them. Although it wasn’t a huge amount of money, it was more than he had expected to find on such a low-life. Frowning, he said, “Here’s another ten shells.”

At the statement, Jennifer’s eyebrows shot up. She was aware of how much money a shell represented. She hadn’t expected that any of those men had more than one shell ever in their lives, much less ten. That much money was two weeks’ worth of wages and could keep a person at an inn for three weeks.

A pinch was named after a pinch of gold and would buy a meal in most inns. Four pinches became known as a quad and two quad would pay for one night at an inn. Four quads made up a shell because that amount of gold dust would fill a small shell. A shell was the basic wage for a day of work. Fifty shells made up a conch. Most people would never see a conch, although many might have that much in savings stashed in a jar buried somewhere.

Sid caught nine of shells while dropping one. He knelt down and picked up the one that he had dropped. A shell was twice the size of a quad and had four times the gold embedded in the glass. He added the coins to his coin purse. He commented, “The guy probably robbed someone. It would explain the money and the sword.”

“They grabbed me a couple of day ago. I don’t think he had a chance to rob someone.”

Sid went over to where Smart Art lay on the ground and picked up the sword. Despite the abuse that it had been given, the blade could be salvaged. As he examined the blade, he said, “Judging by the condition of the sword, he got it a couple of weeks ago.”

Derek pointed over at Smart Art and said, “He’s got a knife in his boot. That’s yours if you want it.”

After slipping the sword into his belt, Sid searched the boots and came up with a knife. It was far better than the knife fragments that he had been using up to then. He looked at the bow strapped to the back of Smart Art and frowned when he realized that it had broken. Bending down, he saw that the wood layers had separated a long time before this particular fight. The bow was worthless.

Derek, bending over Harold, commented, “You noticed the bow.”

“Bad glue job,” said Sid while shaking his head. It was a bad glue job coupled with poor treatment that had ruined the bow.

Derek threw a couple coins to Sid as he said, “Here’s another three quad and six pinches.”

Sid added them to his purse, which now was very heavy with coins. He tied the coin purse to his belt. He went over to where Harold One-Eye lay and kicked away the club. A search didn’t reveal any other weapons. He looked at Derek squatting on the other side of Harold and said, “We’re going back the way we came.”

“Good. I’ll walk with you until we reach the orchard,” replied the man.

Jennifer, still afraid that her ordeal wasn’t over, waited until Sid had stepped over to her. She whispered to him, “Can we trust him?”

“We shall see, won’t we,” answered Sid with a wink at her before glancing over at the man.

As they walked, Derek replayed what he had seen in his mind. One man against three and the one had won with ease. He said, “It took you three blows to take out three opponents. I don’t feel so bad now, about losing to you when we sparred.”

“Thank you. Of course, I knew they’d never had any training,” said Sid.

“Why would you think that?” asked the man although the answer was obvious to him.

“They didn’t know how to take care of their weapons,” said Sid with a snort of disdain. The edge of the blade was nicked and it would take a major sharpening effort to fix the problem. The bow had been ruined by mistreatment. The clubs were basic weapons that required no maintenance.

“You’re right,” said Derek who had recognized their lack of training by the amateur moves they made when attacking. It was interesting that Sid had known that, before they had attacked. He walked beside Sid and Jennifer lost in thought as he considered the pair. It was an interesting question concerning how Sid knew that the woman needed rescuing.

As they walked down the road, Sid considered what they would do about lodging for the night. The delay in waiting for them to arrive and then going through their possessions had pushed the time into well after noon. The town was too far to make by nightfall. The nearest place to stay was the orchard where he had worked and that was a good two-hour walk. As far as he could tell, that was the only possibility. He would have to pay for a room in the owner’s house for the night.

“Sid Jones,” said Jennifer as she recalled his name. She didn’t know much about names on Earth, but the name Jones couldn’t be all that common. She did not know that her assumption was incorrect. With a real sense of hope in her voice, she asked, “Are you related to Gerald Jones?”

“He was my uncle,” answered Sid.

“Was? You mean he’s dead?”

“Yes.”

“Poor Elizabeth Caretaker. She must be crushed,” said the lovely woman. For years, women of Cassandra had sung the praises of Gerald Jones. Elizabeth Caretaker was the envy of many women because she was able to share the bed of Gerald for such a long time. She sighed and said, “All of my land shall mourn his passing.”