22.   The Law West of The Pecos.

The town jail consisted of two large rooms – an outer one served as an office while an inner one contained several cells separated from each other and the front of the room by thick iron bars. The windows were very small and also barred, but there was enough daylight getting in. Only one of the cells was occupied. A bearded and seemingly deformed derelict lifted his head staring at Akin, muttered “I’d be damned if t’is not Rattlesnake Rivares himself...” and drifted back into slumber. Akin was locked in the corner cell and the office room door was also locked behind the Marshal and his deputies. Actually it was not a bad idea to spend some time by himself and sort out his thoughts, which occupied him for an hour or two. Then he started getting bored. They had searched him, but for weapons only and had left him other personal items, including what had appeared to be just a deck of cards. Deirdre did not answer. He pulled out Random’s Trump, but his concentration was broken by a commotion by the door.

“Your girlfriend’s here to see you, Rattlesnake.” A deputy stepped aside letting in cheerful Viss dressed in a silk headscarf hiding her blue hair and a silk pink dress. She looked ready for a picnic and indeed carried a large basket with food and bottles. “Sorry, lass, can’t let him outta his cell, but ya may stay as long as ya wish. Knock when ya ready to go.” The deputy left and locked the door behind him.

Viss knelt before the bars, spread a large white napkin on the floor and started arranging on it the items from the basket in such way that Akin could reach everything through the bars. “They took the horses and stuff,” she said plaintively, “but I pocketed some coins. I had to buy these clothes though cuz they all looked at me strangely and… they made fun of my hair.”

“Don’t worry,” she whispered leaning closer to the bars to pass Akin the glass she had just poured wine into. “We’ve ended up in jail too when Ele and…” she blushed deep red. “Ughh… I mean Lady Elektra and I went to a place called New Jersey. But she got us out real fast and I’m sure as soon as she learns you’re here, she’ll do the same.”

Akin smiled thinly. Somehow he did not feel certain that Elektra’s help would be forthcoming. Though perhaps the girl’s naivete could be useful. “Do you know where she is?”

“In Amber, milord, I’m sure. Last morning she talked to Lady Scarlett over the trump and Lady Scarlett just pulled her in.”

“Can you contact her?” 

“Nooo, milord, she taught me how, but there’re only a few of them, trumps of Lady Elektra, not enough for poor Viss to have one.”  She sighed with much grief.

Seemed he drew a blank one more time. This was however as good time as any to question the girl. Viss proved rather talkative and did not hold back. Apparently she considered anyone able to move through Shadow as some kind of deity, and it did not even occur to her that these gods might have secrets from each other.

Akin learned that at an age of twelve or so she had been taken by Brand’s soldiers, and, with many other girls of about the same age, had been brought to his estate. They had been lined up in the yard and Lord Brand himself had come out and had walked silently along the single file. When he had come to her, he had looked in her eyes in a way she would never forget – like he had taken her soul and held it in his hand – and had said “this one” and had gone back into the house. The rest of trembling captives had been sent back to their homes, but she had been brought in and taken upstairs where she had met a shy slender girl of her own age with red hair and icy gray eyes as if points of daggers. They had been together ever since, so she was not really a chambermaid or even a lady-in-waiting – her official title in the household – but more of a companion to the daughter of Brand. She worshipped Elektra and never stopped thanking gods for her fortune. Her life was better than she could have ever dreamt of and her family, which she could see freely since she had come of age, had been provided with means to move from the village to the capital city and buy a thriving bakery. Elektra had also given her great many fine garments and precious jewels – the diamond earrings with large blue stones was one of those gifts – so if she ever left, which, of course, she would never ever think of, she would be quite wealthy in her own right.

Akin further learned that Brand had not looked old until a few years ago, when he had left for a long while and upon his return he had been as if a different man. Elektra had freaked out of course, but still no one knew where Brand had gone and what had happened. As for his daughter, she shared her time between the library and the garden where she and Viss grew a great variety of roses. Once in a while two of them sneaked out to the capital city where they flirted with young laborers in shady taverns. Sometimes – there Viss blushed and lowered her voice to a whisper – they even danced in revealing clothes for patrons of those establishments where dancing of that kind was performed. On such occasions Elektra wore wigs, as the blue was the only native hair color in their Shadow. Of course Lord Brand knew nothing of it, and were he to find out he would doubtless kill them both.

He also learned that Viss knew quite a lot of Amber and Chaos and Shadow, and of the Royal Family and, in fact, had met a few times Lady Fiona, her daughter Lady Scarlett, and Lord Bleys, who, though infrequently, did come for visits. Akin mentally filed an unfamiliar name she mentioned – Lord Wraithlight.  She had always wanted to have a glimpse of the One True World, but all they had were books and pictures, as Elektra herself was forbidden by Lord Brand to go to Amber and had been to there only once – to walk the Grand Pattern. After that, Elektra had become a great sorceress who could transport herself and Viss anywhere instantly, make things appear and disappear, and – there Viss whispered again – even kill a man with just a glance of her gray eyes, which had grown even colder since the Pattern Walk.  She had witnessed one such occasion when a drunken soldier had become too insistent in his advances.

Viss’s revelations were interrupted by the sound of a key being turned in the lock and the door opened again. “Reckon, ya one lucky fellow, Rattlesnake,“ the Marshal grinned broadly in the doorway. “Don’t have to spend no time waitin’. Just got a word the Judge will be here by sunset. Thought I’d let ya know.” He paused shifting his gaze between Akin and Viss. “Reckon ya two might’ve heard of him. Roy Bean’s the name. The hangin’ judge, yanno.” The door slammed shut muffling the laughter of the deputies.

Akin thought quietly for a moment, as he and Viss were finishing up their picnic lunch. It was time to get going and to leave this place. Not necessarily because of the hanging judge, but because the longer he stayed here, the better Brand’s odds became. He looked at Viss slowly realizing that she may be an asset to him in all this. Before he had been thinking of her as a tool to use, perhaps in an expendable matter if needed. But now, he was not too sure if he could do that. He motioned to her to keep talking as he started passing the lunch remains back to her to pack up. She smiled and nodded her understanding and continued to chat away in the same tone and manner as she had.

… He stood up and carefully looked outside the barred window, and then at the door that led to the office.  Of course, he would have to assume that one or more deputies were in there.  He slid his belt out of his pants and moved up to the cell door. Viss positioned herself in front of him, between the cell and the office doors. Smart girl, indeed… He reached around and started working on the lock with the metal hasp connector of his buckle. This was almost too easy...  He felt the tumbler, and twisted the buckle to slide the lock open. “Call the guard in, and then get ready to move.  Fast!” he told the girl, who paled just a bit, but moved swiftly to knock on the office door and then to step back toward the bars. He waited holding the cell door. The scraping of a chair sliding over the floor and then the outer door was unlocked and opened by one of the deputies. The room behind him seemed empty. The deputy tried to be smooth and charming with Viss.

“Come along, pretty lady,” he said as he stepped inside and closer to her. Akin suddenly slammed open the cell door, catching him perfectly with the steel bars to send him crashing to the ground.

“Check outside... quick!”

“All clear”, she whispered back.

“Watch the door!” Akin snatched the deputy’s hat, stuffed it on his own head and dashed into the empty office room. There he grabbed a double holster harness and buckled it on his hips, tossing Viss a single holster. She hesitated for a second then drew out the revolver and slid it inside the basket. He put on the guard’s riding slicker flipping the collar up and retrieved a double-barreled shotgun from the weapons rack. A glance outside the front door revealed that the stables were right across the street. Luck was with him, it seemed. He took hold of the girl’s arm and quickly escorted her out, playing the deputy as he led her across to the stables. No one paid them much attention as they slipped inside.

“Say Butch, whatcha doin'... uggghhhh,” the stablehand grunted as Akin dropped him to the floor with a quick slash to the head with the butt of the shotgun. Evidently Viss knew all about horses and they saddled up a pair of strong and fast looking ones in no time and mounted.

“Let's get out of here!” He carefully opened up the stable door and looked out up and down the street. No one was nearby. He slapped his reins to the horse’s flanks and they charged out of the stable and up the street at a gallop...

“Wake up, Rattlesnake!” Akin opened his eyes to the loud rumble, still not quite sure where he was and what was going on. The Marshal held his gun by the barrel, running the handle over the bars. Two deputies were behind him with lanterns and drawn pistols. It was already dark outside. Apparently he was still in his cell in the town jail having had fallen asleep after the good lunch and the good wine – indeed he had needed it badly after the non-stop events of the previous day and the last night’s hellride. Viss was kneeling by the wall, resting her bottom on her heels. She had been there all the time, but doubtless had not dared to interrupt his nap. “The Judge’s here, and ya sure not wanna keep him waitin. Ya’ll have plenty of rest soon… in ya grave.”  If looks could kill, the Marshal would have been dead already, but apparently Viss was no Elektra, as he kept laughing nastily.

Surrounded by deputies, Akin walked outside and down the street, and in a short while into the crowded town hall. Of course no one in town wanted to miss the event. The deputies conducted Akin through the whistling and jeering crowd to a lonely chair by the room’s front wall not far from a small table covered with some black fabric; they remained close-by, guns drawn. Another nasty looking deputy – most probably one of the Judge’s own posse – had just finished fixing a tattered flag with Stars and Stripes to the right of the table. To the left of it there was a stand with a well-worn theatrical poster depicting a woman in a feathered hat, with large letters underneath: Miss Lillie Langtry Stars in Lady Windemere’s Fan by Oscar Wilde. One of the local deputies hurried in with another chair from somewhere, and set it by the end of the first row for Viss. And then, there came the Judge.

He was a lean, muscular man of a middle age and a rather rugged appearance. It was hard to say whether his beard was intended or just a two-week growth on his dirty cheeks and chin. He wore what originally must have been gray trousers of a military style, but now covered by dirt and dust, tucked into equally dirty boots. His shirt and vest and a Stetson on his head were in no better condition. The only more or less attended item of his wardrobe was a leather belt with a shiny buckle and two holsters. He carried a thick heavy book in grease stained covers under his arm. Roy Bean walked to the table somewhat unsteadily – must have been tired after a long ride – and flopped in the chair setting the book on the table. With a strange senseless grin on his face he drew one of his pistols and slammed the handle into the table three times.  The room grew silent.

“By the power infested…hmm… manifested… ughh… vested in me by the Federal Government and by the unrivaled grace of Miss Lillie Langtry,” he gestured toward the poster. “This court is now in session. Me presiding!” He pounded the table with his improvised gavel a few more times and then turned to Akin.  “So… ugh…  Sanchez Rodriguez, better known as Rattlesnake, bandit, bank robber, horse thief, and now accused of murder of the officers of the law… How do you plea?”

“Rivares,” Marshal’s whisper could be clearly heard in the dead silence of the room.

The Judge hiccuped loudly. “Yeah… right… Rivares. A snake’s a snake by whatever name. How do you plea?”

Akin just blinked at the Judge. By now he had no doubt that his honor was plain drunk, but even more bewildering was that the audience was either too dumb to notice or quite accustomed to this kind of justice, and the latter seemed more probable.

“How do you plea, Rattlesnake? I ain’t got a whole night,” the Judge hiccuped again then drew a metal flask from his vest pocket and made a few gulps, spilling some on his chest, spreading the smell of cheap whiskey about the room.

“I’m not guilty of anything and on a slight chance you might actually comprehend the proceedings, I’m not even the person you mistake me for.”

“Then not guilty, I reckon,” Bean smirked lowering the flask on the table next to the book. “That’ll do. Marshal, go ahead and tell us what happened.”

“Wait a minute, there! This is ridiculous! At least do it right! Where’s the jury? And am I not to have a defense counsel?” Akin shook his head in total astonishment.

Bean’s smirk grew into another senseless grin. “Let the record show that the dependent… ugghh… defendant, I mean, demanded a jury trial. That’s indeed his right, as is said in this book of law.” His fingers caressed the greasy cover. “First twelve men from the second and third rows, come forward with your chairs!” For some reason he bypassed the first row where the best-dressed people were sitting – doubtless the Mayor and other town fathers. “Now,” he continued, after the men seated themselves to the right of the flag and the commotion ceased. “As for defense…” He looked up at the audience. “Hmm… any lawyers around?”

“Ain’t got no those Yankee boys around, Judge!” The audience burst into loud laughter at the scream from the standing room crowd by the doors.

“Thought so… Ya on ya own Rattlesnake. Proceed, Marshal.”

The Marshal quickly narrated the story of the deputies’ disappearance and Akin’s arrival with their horses and gear, and then paused theatrically. “Your Honor, there’s also an eyewitness to the act of murder!”

“A witness?” Roy Bean seemed asleep but now raised his head. Looked like this was new to him.  “Hmm… and who that might be?”

“Brandon Corey!”  The Marshal announced.  “Come forward.” A man in a black cape slowly walked toward them from the last rows and slightly bowed to the Judge. Viss let out a piercing scream and slid down on the floor unconscious.

“It’s a little stuffy in here, Your Honor. I suppose a fair maiden requires some fresh air.” Brand smiled with the corners of his mouth.

Bean gestured to the deputies. “Yeah… right… carry… ugh… the maiden out on fresh air.”

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