Team of Seven Heroes Short Tales 4 Chapter 5

5.

Junior

Abraham rushed from the Dining car to the private car, and found the doorway locked. He looked to the side and saw two horses were unmounted there. It could only mean the riders were in there and the petite was in danger. He stepped back and then jumped up to grab the ridge before he climbed up. He walked along the top and then on instinct he moved his right feet. It was a good move for the sharpened blade appeared from below; cutting the wooden panel that was part of the ceiling. He saw the gleaming blade was about a foot higher and then on instinct, he stepped back three steps to avoid the protruding blade that was trailing his steps. He had reached the edge and fell over. He did a body turn and landed on his feet but used the momentum to push himself against the locked door. He impacted and broke through to land on his face. He then looked up and saw the gleaming blade had followed him there levelled at his face.

“Stop, Taro-san. He is …” Abraham looked up and saw the figure wielding the blade was actually the man he saw earlier in the Dining car. The blade was part of the lengthy sword with the double handed hilt and the wielder was just as grim like the blade.

“I came to help….” It was the Abraham saw the two dead riders lying in death poses with the blood profusely flowing from the chest and neck. “I think you are okay.”

“Arigato-gozimas, Sir. My guard will protect me.” The lady replied. “We are safe here.”

Abraham nodded and then slowly stood up. The blade did not move an inch from his nose and moved with alongside his posture.

“I will go now.” Abraham replied.

“No, please stay. Taro-san is hurt. He may need …. medicine.” It was then Abraham saw the wound on the sword wielding figure’s lower abdomen. “He is hurt.”

The sword wielder then fell to his knees with the right hand using the sword to balance himself. Abraham had seen many types of wounds including those by the bullets. He had also treated them as taught by his father. He rushed forward and assisted the man to the nearby seat. He pulled away the sword and left it on the flooring. He peeled away at the layers of cloth and looked at the wound. Two things helped the man; the weak powder in the rifle and the double thick layers dampened the impact. The bullet did penetrate the flesh but it stopped short of the organs but the impact pierced some arteries and the bleeding was bad. He applied pressure in the wound while figuring out the next move.

“Barricade the door. I need to work on him.” Abraham told the lady. “The bullet had to come out.”

“I ….” The lady looked at him but Abraham had saw the candle and reached for it. He then asked if she have the fire stick. She still stood there looking at him.

“Fire…. Light this.” Abraham looked at her and tried to explain his need. She then motioned to the table and he saw the fire stick. He grabbed it and lighted the candle. He heard the shots outside and there appeared to a stand-off between the bandits and the passengers. He took out his dagger and placed it above the flame. He needed to get it hot like what his father told him before. While he was doing it, he looked at the lady.

“Close door…. please.”

“I can’t. It’s the work of the servants.” The lady replied. “I am Lady and do not do such tasks.”

Abraham sighed. He had met one like her before on his hunting trips. She claimed to be a Princess and will not lift a finger to help. It worked for a while until they were cornered by the mobs. She had then grabbed the sword and defended herself. His father had a hand in telling her something which apparently frightened her.

Abraham was to stand up for the barricade when the wounded man pushed himself up and then toppled the cupboard to block the doorway. With that effort, his wound burst opened and more blood spurted out. Abraham helped him down and then grabbed the dagger. He told the man to brace himself.

“I can help.” The lady crouched down and held the other in her arms. The wounded man struggled to free himself but she told him off and he leaned back with his grim expression unchanged. Abraham reached in with the dagger and soldered the bleeding arteries as taught by his father until he found the bullet. He plucked at it and then drew it out. By then the wounded man was unconscious and Abraham proceeded to look for materials he can use as bandages.

“Use this.” The lady handed him the section of the cloth she cut away from her thick layers. He grabbed it and smelled the scent on it. He applied the bandage and secured it with long strips of cloth. With that done, Abraham looked to the lady and smiled.

“He will live.”

Living was on the mind of the passengers including the Adventurer Club of Birmingham members. They were confronting the two dark robed gentlemen who were in league with the bandits. The two dark robed men were armed with the small scimitars drew from their hidden space under the robe.

“I say, old chaps. We got here a pair of roughers who thinks they can fight us.” Major Chips sprung the new topic of their conversation then. They normally talked on their long across the county walks with stops to admire the churches or the villages before popping in for the essential ale or whatever they called beer there. That was their first trip overseas to see the pyramids and nubile tanned skin ladies. They have with them was their walking cane then.

“Nothing like the Geordies we took on last summer at …. where was that, Peter? I can’t recall now.” The one standing next to Major Chips was ex-military and retired a Sergeant Major. He was having problems remembering things but his pugilist skills were impeccable with his left paw.

“It was near to Dundee, Malcolm. And it was not the summer but autumn. Bloody time to go there then. Cold than my nuts during winter.” Peter replied. He was a retired Lieutenant from the Artillery and spent his better days hauling howitzers up and down the Frontier. He used to tell his men; you don’t fire them until you can see their runny nose clearly.  

“Quit the yapping, fellas. They are not keen on your talks. We are confronted by the enemies.” Trust the last one to address their issue well. His name was Barry and he was a Scouser from Liverpool and ex-infantry. “I said we stopped being an arl arse.”

“Charge!” Trust the leader of the group, Major Chips took the lead at the two hooded gentlemen.

It was somehow inspiring the others.

“Fire on my command.” Sergeant Gunter stepped off the train onto the sands while giving commands to his platoon. “Legio Patria Nostra!’

His platoon had then dismounted and held their rifles to the shoulder while shouting “We promise! To serve! With honour! And loyalty!” The rifles will roar in unison as if they were in Camaron, Veracruz once more.

“Aim and fire again!” The Foreign Legionnaires once more proved the bravery to the enemies.

“Withdraw before we lose more warriors.” The leader of the bandits then called out. He was named Akbar the Dark; the tall and dark leader of the then reduced numbers of warrior from forty to twenty-nine left. He rode a white Arabian breed and held the Mauser rifle. He signalled the others and then his brother, Salleh who commanded the three snipers.  He walked to his horse hidden in the wadi there ever calmly while his warriors carried the dead and wounded. He left behind seven warriors not including the two in the train. The duo had given him the signal that the intruders are on the train and he came riding with his warriors to stop them. The unspeakable must never be unearthed and allowed to roam openly.

Such was the law laid by the Masters generations ago.

“Akbar, why are we retreating? If we let them go on, they will soon travel by caravan to the Hidden City?” Salleh asked of him.

“We lost good warriors there. The scouts did not warn us of the armed men. The Legion we knew but what of the others.” Akbar replied. “Your warriors did well to keep them at bay.”

“So, tell me. Do we leave then?” Salleh was young and eager to prove his warrior self.

“For now. The train will resume and then it will rest at the next town. There we will strike once more. And if need be from there until we kill them all. That is my word as your brother.”

 “And mine to you will be to protect you with my life.” Salleh replied.

“Swear not such oath, brother. I will not have your death on my conscience.”