Chapter 16

Having spent nearly half of a year in recovery from my injuries and getting way more rest than I ever wanted, I was getting even more fidgety than Brock’a kits, which were now just old enough to be out on their own now. Their dire-badger mom had kept the kits close to home since they emerged from their den in the early spring, but I sensed that even she was ready to release the apron-strings, to send them forth alone in this already now friendlier new land.

I had decided that I really just couldn’t settle my own family in with most of the other refugees in Wichita, as I’d become a dangerous, overly powerful, symbol from their past that was best viewed from as great of a distance as was possible. Some damn fool would eventually try to put me on a throne and make a Witch-King out of me! Fuck no to that. The women and I discussed settling back in either Salina or one of the other mostly abandoned nearby villages, but no one, not even Nancy, seemed in much favor of that option either. A part of me never wanted to leave where we had buried Lorrie, but even her sister-priestesses didn’t want to hover here forever like ghouls, rooted to her gravesite for long decades yet to come.

“Her spirit is no longer there, in amongst her clothes and decaying flesh. She has moved on ... and she would want us to move on as well,” Tania told me one even when I was casually running my fingers over the lush grass, carpeting her grave. “Her spirit has already been reborn somewhere else, I’m certain of it ... and would greatly enjoy spending until the end of my own days, traveling the land in search of the young child she has been reborn as ... just to make sure she doesn’t have to suffer any idiots as parents!” She laughed with a smile.

“I think we should all go west quite soon,” young Ava said to me casually one morning, while I was sitting with the girls outside helping them watch, and give names to, all of the different butterflies that they were spotting. “Over to the great mountains and then to the north, that’s where the greatest taint is ... right where the Yellow Stone exploded, leaving behind a great earth wound of fire and steam and of malign air and spirit as well.”

“I’ve felt it too,” Mia the young earth witch exclaimed with excitement, “sometimes, very late at night if the moon is high in the sky, I can feel it seething with anger, deep within the ground. It wants to blow again, the taint scalds even those great earth fires, stoking them to rise higher and explode again in fury. That is not right! The earth there is very tired and wants a long, long rest, for eons of years before it should awaken again and no evil should make defy nature yet once more.”

Skylar, who was usually a very quiet and private sort of girl, spending most of her time tuning her awareness to the spirit world instead of her physical one, quietly nodded in agreement. With her eyes quite shut, she became lost in thought until at last she raised up her small arm and pointed, decidedly to the northwest. “There!” she simply stated.

Well, that settled it. Even their older witch mentors had nothing to say against this plan of action. We were going west until we reached the mountains and then we’d turn and head north, until we reached the very tainted land of the Yellow Stone itself! We spent several nights glancing over old pre-disaster maps and decided that if we tried to follow the old interstate highways that we could make it there before the end of summer. Assuming that we could make at least fifteen to twenty miles per day and not too many bridge crossings over rivers had been lost to time and the original force of the eruption.

Now that we had something that resembled a plan, I was all for saddling up and loading a few wagons for our family and all of the tools and provisions we might need for a long hazardous journey into unknown territories. Tania again bade me to wait. “We’ll start loaded our possessions and packing up the wagons, certainly ... but our guests are approaching soon. Two days away now, and eager to confront us. They fear us mightily and have brought a host of witchhunters with them to destroy us, unless we can reach some common ground that would suffer witches like us to live. Frankly, I think they’d rather try to kill us, given the choice. Happily, I feel the odds of that occurring are too slim to be worth considering.”

The posse of assembled witchhunters and their outriders arrived about an hour before sunset, with their faces originally directly looking to the setting sun as they slowed to a halt about a hundred paces or so from us. Then someone with an ounce of tactical sense must have whispered something to the leadership about starting a gunfight facing the setting sun, so they sidled their mounts around a bit until they were more or less arrayed facing us from the northern foot of the hill.

The witchhunters, including Jodi, numbered eight and from what she had told me long ago in Ft. Salina, that must have constituted nearly half of their entire numbers. Already they didn’t like what they saw of us, all assembled together at the top of the hill where our house was, and anyone with the faintest ability to detect magical aura could sense that they were from the start, quite outmatched. Everyone, except for Nancy, was visibly unarmed but we didn’t consider ourselves the least bit unprepared for trouble. We’d prepared for this and had eventualities to cover most of the likely situational outcomes. No one was optimistic enough to predict that the situation could be peacefully resolved without bloodshed, though.

Old Grampy used to say to the boys in town, ‘never bring a fist to a knife-fight, a knife to a gun-fight, or point a gun at someone who can burn you down with magical fire!’ Clearly these fools from Kansas City hadn’t heard this advice before.

As for their mounted riders, which did number slightly over a dozen or so additional gunmen, these were just gunsels, men who had hired out their guns to the biggest, nastiest authority in the territories for a bit of coin, regular meals, and legal protection from punishment for their other (numerous) crimes committed elsewhere back east.

There was not a silver bullet to be found, loaded or chambered in any of their weapons, as even a brief magical scan quickly discovered, as I whispered a few brief orders to the duo of former priestesses who were flanking him.

“So, that’s the bunch of clowns with badges that claims to run everything west of Kansas City,” Amie snorted, “no wonder that this state was in the mess it was in.”

“Utter morons the lot of them,” I agreed, chuckling, “and either too stupid or conceited to realize that we’ve been slaughtering witch-tainted green priestesses for months that have more attitude for shielding than any of that lot has ... still best to somewhat cautious, I suppose. Amie and Tania, keep the girls back behind you and make sure Nancy and Ruth are kept under someone’s shielding. Ava can stick close, right behind me even, as I might need her help ... if things turn ugly.”

“This is a respectable place we have here,” Nancy loudly shouted off to their unwelcome visitors as they settled into position flanking them, “and not one of your usual sporting houses, so if you came expecting some of your customary sport, like a bit of the usual pirooting with any woman you can freely take and rape against their will ... well, I’m afraid you’re in for a bit of disappointment.”

“We’re here for the man claiming to be a witchhunter but doesn’t bear our badge, and likely is responsible for the murder of one of our men, a witchhunter named Justin. We’re here to take you in and make you answer for your crimes.” Their leader called out, an older man bestriding a gray dabbled horse. His voice carried over some confidence, as to the right of his charges, but there was a strong sense of ill-ease that couldn’t be masked over. He was also seething with anger, enough so that any hope of this standoff reaching a peaceful negotiated solution became increasingly unlikely by the moment.

“Justin, your so-called witchhunter you claim as being murdered,” Nancy then cried out, quite loudly and more than an edge of anger of her own in her voice, “was executed in Hutton’s Commons for the crime of forcing young women into his bed using his witch-talents. It was naught but rape, in all truth ... for I was one of the women and girls forced into his bed and made to service him, all while my husband was forced to watch his bride cuckold him in his own house.”

“Well, I have never heard any evidence of anything like that,” their leader muttered, shifting himself rather uneasily in his saddle. Already most of the posse riders were either inching for their guns or else already had a hand firmly upon them.

“He’s lying his saddle-sore ass off,” Amie laughed, “I can just smell his body twitching when he lies. I bet he’s heard these complaints dozens or even hundreds of times, but no one was ever willing to make a signed statement of it, fearing for their lives, or worse being witch-charmed into being an idiot thereafter, to cover their tracks.”

“Hundreds,” Skylar quietly said, shaking her head. Although the youngest of the girls, her abilities with spirit magic already exceeded any of the former priestesses, or truth be told, my own abilities in that field as well. No one can ever possibly lie or tell even a partial untruth to a spirit-witch!

“Well, I state here and now as confirmed fact, that I was magically coerced into being his sex slave, enticed by his mental powers to serve and obey only him, forsaking my husband and the vows I had taken,” Nancy barked, with increased anger. Alone of the women, she was openly armed with an old military assault rifle, loaded and almost eager now to put it to good use.

“And I also confirm this,” I added for good measure, taking one extra step forward towards his accusers, my right hand held up palm forward in testimony, “and that is was in fact my bullet that was fired into his head as he carnally laid there upon the body of my wife, engaged in unlawful intercourse with her ... against every law of both ancient scripture and the laws of Hutton’s Commons. I executed him for his crimes against nature, to use witch-powers to cloud and obfuscate women to use them involuntarily for his sexual pleasure, and also to preserve the rights of man, that the vows between a husband and wife ought to be inviolable ... especially within their bedroom and upon the marital bed.”

“I cannot accept this, and regardless you must now be placed into custody to stand trial for this crime,” their leader nervously stated, looking to both his left and right sides to check upon the will of his followers to obey his next commands.

“To stand trial, for defending my charmed wife against a rapist caught while penetrating her in my very own bed? That should make for most amusing judicial proceedings indeed ... and who claims the right to prosecute me, or who even would dare to pronounce a just judgement against me. No law that I am aware of based in Kansas City holds any binding claim against me. In fact, by right of acclaimed popular law in the newly restored territory of Wichita, not to mention the theoretical right by conquest, there is indeed no greater judicial authority than myself, as I have been hailed as the most senior administrative and legal authority in these lands.”

“And that’s putting it rather mildly,” Ruth then quickly piped in, “as he could today, with just one word to Wichita, gather a remarkably large and efficient army of oh, at least about twenty-thousand strong and if ordered, march it directly towards Kansas City to check upon its suitability of being incorporated into the New Kansas territorial government that is forming here. From the ineptness of your own particular organization, I’d say the governmental skills there in KC are severely lacking and perhaps a quick subjugation and reconstruction by us might well be in order there, and perhaps sooner done now rather than later, if that is what passes for the rule of law there.”

“While it is true,” I admitted, being the reluctant new overlord of western Kansas in word anyway, if not quite in fact, “that upon Justin’s just and lawful execution, his witch-powers then became bestowed upon me and I used them, willingly and with an increasing fervor to do justice for my land. Rather than destroy, which seems to be a witchhunter’s usual talent, I focused mine upon healing and restoration of our polluted and tainted land ... and in less than one year I rightfully believe I have accomplished far, far more with those talents than Justin ever accomplished over his entire life. Behold the ladies standing behind me and to my side, once nearly all of them had been touched by the witch-taint and now they are all healed! Use your senses properly witchhunters and search them now ... free, all of them. Each completely cleansed of the witch-taint, but with their powers remaining intact ... and their original moral imperative to do good, and not increase corruption. You believe this to be impossible ... that the taint can be cured. These women are the very proof that most, if not all of your beliefs and training are profoundly incomplete and most inaccurate.

There was silence, other than some low rumbled whispers between the mounted men as their brought forth their witching senses to the best of their abilities ... and were clearly confounded by the results.

“You must surrender to us, now and at once, or you and your tainted followers must surely perish!” their leader insisted sharply, unwilling now to hear any further debate ... and the chorus of women loudly laughing at him gave him his final answer.

“Get ready Ava, link to my mind and feed me air magic as fast as you can give it,” I whispered, right as all of the mounted posse started pulled out their weapons and began aiming at us.

“FALL!” I shouted out, focusing all of my witch-power along with Ava’s aerial link to the sky into creating a gigantic blast of wind focused directly at the riders with all of the force I could press into that wall of wind. It was like a tornado had touched down right in front of them and in an instant every single horse and rider was knocked backwards to the ground at least a score of yards further back from where they had been before.

I had discovered this shout talent late in the winter when a minor bureaucrat from Wichita had visited me to obtain my approval for a rather autocratic set of decrees that would have eliminated even rational, peaceful civil disputes from occurring, so that the new government there could crush any minimal dissent with excessive autocratic force. I’d blasted him at least a hundred yards away with that shout, bashing him through at least two broken trees in the process and placing the idiot desk-warrior in permanent medical retirement afterward. That put an end to most bureaucratic schemes for establishing some sort of dictatorship and last I heard, small-town style democracy was still doing pretty well in Wichita.

Some guys are just used to falling or being thrown violently off of a saddle and a few of the gunsels were ready to starting flinging lead the moment after their bodies hit the dirt. Probably mostly former bandits, I assumed, and they very certainly had fired off the very first shots at us. Since we were well shielded against common lead ammunition, this caused us no discomfort ... and gave Nancy the opportunity to start unloading three-round bursts from her assault rifle into anyone being actively hostile. Her aim seemed to be perfect, with hardly a stray round striking dirt instead of flesh. I knew the former priestesses magically gained my innate accuracy, when we regularly slept together, but since Nancy was now sharing our bed too, had she gained this talent too?

The Kansas City witchhunters were a little slower to their knees and not all of them had fared as kindly to being blown through the air twenty yards or more to the hard ground. Their leader and a few others began channeling witch-fire and hurling it at me, but with negligible result. Frankly, except for their leader, I’d been hit by stronger magic thrown by most of the younger green priestesses I’d encountered!

“Throw down your weapons and stop all use of magic against me and you’ll live,” I loudly advised them. Two witchhunters tried to stand with their misguided leader and I burned them both down, easily, with considerable regrets. A waste of good witch-talent, even if the brain possessing it was full of jingo and rubbish. Nancy put paid to any of the remaining posse that felt inclined to bring pistols and rifles to a high-level magical fight. No loss to anyone probably – the world is full of guys with an attitude and a firearm, and no common sense whatsoever.

As for Jodi, she was laying on the ground with all of the air knocked out of her, and when she found herself able to crawl, she concerned herself for the welfare of her horse, and ignored everything else that occurred around or near her. Fine ... I wasn’t sure that I was mentally able to directly use magic against her this moment anyway. That would have been as bad as losing Lorrie all over again, in a different but similar sort of emotional way. I at least wanted to hear her side of the story first, if now we were no longer were considered friendly companions.

“Surrender your men, commander,” I pleaded with him, “and by my word they will not be harmed,” but practical reason had left his eyes and there was naught left behind them but anger. Perhaps he’d never had too much of the power of reason to begin with and under his leadership the Kansas City witchhunters had overly relied upon raw force, obedience, and ruthlessness to accomplish their limited goals. The world had changed for him now and he was dismayed that the old ways no longer held sway.

This wasn’t the time or the place for trying to teach a mud-head reason, and I didn’t have the patience to find some other sort of language other than brute force that the bully could understand.

I didn’t need Ava’s help to levitate up the commander’s body up from the ground and I began to tighten the bands of air around him hard. He never gave up and focused every measure of force that he could bear upon me, but my shield held nicely until their leader had no further strength left to contest me.

“This is quite pointless,” sincerely begged of him, “as surely you must now be able to understand. You must face up to the fact that you have thrown everything you could muster at me to stop me ... and what western Kansas has now become, and you have lost. Your men can’t pillage these towns any more or rape any woman or young girl that they fancy. Civilization is returning to these lands and your type of law and order is no longer acceptable to us. Change with the times man! Don’t let your pride eradicate some of the good things that your order once stood for.”

His response was to spit on my face. So be it...

After the crushed lifeless remains of their leader loudly crashed to the ground, the remaining four witchhunters dropped their weapons and took off their hats in obvious submission to the new order of things. Jodi gave me a tip of her hat, but left hers on. I still really didn’t know which side of things she had been playing, but this wasn’t quite the time yet for a long talk to straighten that mess out with her. Jodi had always done things entirely her own way, and while she genuinely disagreed with the way the witchhunters had been directed, she was equally frightened at the speed (and ease) at which I had brought complete and total change to the west.