Guns of Mars 18
A Martian action-adventure by The Legend Chuck Dixon
CHAPTER 5.3
A few of the Samaris paused in their errands to watch the strange caravan ride out through the dome’s broad entryway. All went back to their work but one.
The pale hooded figure of the day before watched through louvered bands until the thoats and their riders were gone over the horizon. He sat a while longer under the awning before a hostelry, taking cautious sips from a tankard of ale set before him next to a platter of boiled eggs. He remained like this until both tankard and platter were empty and the shadows in the lane had lengthened.
The hooded man crossed the lane to the livery stable where he entered to find the owner filling buckets with feed for the thoats that occupied stalls running down either wall of the structure. A loamy odor filled the air rising from the gruel of chopped moss being shoveled into the buckets from a great heap.
“I need a conveyance,” the visitor said.
“Eh?” the man replied, his head canted, and lip curled to reveal yellow teeth.
The livery man straightened to study his newest customer. The odd man’s skin, what little of it was exposed, was a ghostly pale. His face was gaunt and skull-like, the flesh stretched upon the bones like old paper. His eyes remained hidden behind the visor despite the man having stepped from the glare of the sun into the shadows of the stable. Most remarkable of the stranger’s features was a broad, lipless mouth that, when he spoke, revealed what, to the livery man’s experience, were far too many teeth than would be normal.
“A mount. A thoat. And I will need a saddle and water for five days ride.”
“And how will you be paying for that?”
The hooded man retrieved a sack from somewhere within his robe. He loosened the drawstring to pour a small heap of white stones into this hand. The livery man hesitated before he plucked the largest of them from the visitor’s hand. The man’s pale fingers reminded him more of the spindly legs of a sand spider. The livery man took a stone and stepped from the stable to examine the gem in the light of the afternoon sun. The light danced through it to create a prismatic effect on the front of his stained leather apron. He returned, inside idly tossing the stone in his hand.
“We don’t see a lot of diamats around here,” he said.
“Will it do for payment?”
“This will do for a good mount. Two of those smaller ones for a saddle and the water.”
The hooded man offered the contents in his outstretched hand, the albino flesh shot through with blue veins. The livery man poked a finger through the stones until he chose a pair he liked.
“When can I set out?”
“You’ll need to choose an animal then we’ll get your gear together. It would be best for you to wait until morning for your departure.”
“I must leave today.” The hooded man flicked a gem from his open palm that the livery man snatched from the air.
“Today it is then,” the livery man said with a broad smile.” Follow me out to the corral and we’ll find you a beast so you can get on your way.”
And none too soon, the livery man thought to himself.
Special Note: GUNS OF MARS is now available in a hardcover edition. It is available at Amazon and at NDM Express.
