Title: A Quarter South (5/7)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: pre-Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: AU; there’s something strange about the prince’s new bodyguards.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Note to self: no more stupid stories. 12k words in 2 days. People at work thought I was brain-damaged.
Epilogue is still to come, so proceed only if you cannot wait a few more days.

That said, THERE IS VIOLENCE AHEAD. Violent people, violent actions – just violence, okay? If you are sensitive about this in your reading material, please do not read the next chapter.

They had traveled not far at all when the prince’s panic overwhelmed him. As each minute passed, he had been imagining them being surrounded and slain in various gruesome ways. Now he felt there was no choice but to take action, and quickly. His loud demands were: “Let me off this horse! Get me a sword! Or a bow and arrow! A rock!”

Jim spoke in a much calmer fashion. “Could you use any of those things?”

“I’m a prince!” he retorted, fear belying his indignation. “I’ve had arms training since I was knee-high!”

“I asked if you could use any of those things.”

“I… can use the rock.”

Jim’s chest rumbled beneath the prince’s grip.

“Flax-wench, you’d better stop laughing at me!”

Jim was amused. “So now I am a wench? Ah! A promotion!”

Leonard knew it was in his best interest to stay quiet. Whatever else he said Jim would only treat as reason to laugh, and Leonard had not been born to provide entertainment for the likes of a hugger-mugger like Kirk. Truly, could this man be more infuriating!

The prince’s silence had sobered Jim. He found one of Leonard’s hands as he had once before and squeezed the tense knuckles. “Fear not,” Jim reassured him, “we will survive this.”

“Only a fool sounds so certain of an uncertainty.”

“Then I have always been the fool.”

Here was a chance for hearty agreement but Leonard found he could say nothing except, “I suppose I have no choice but to trust you.”

“Thank you.”

Why did the thanks sound so sincere? Was that all Kirk had wanted from him? Leonard wondered. If so, then the man was the stranger of them both, and his motivations the strangest of all.

In that moment, the prince recoiled out of shock. The turning of his thoughts meant that somehow he had lost his better sense. He had begun to sympathize with his kidnapper.

And that, Leonard decided, would just not do.

~~~

The land stretched onward with a gentle rise and fall of grassland. Though it surprised Leonard they not yet seen Redjac in two hours of quick-paced riding, he was quite pessimistic about their chances.

“We must go to a town.”

“Can’t,” said Jim.

“But we must!” insisted the prince. “Do you not realize we are safer in the company of others? Out here, we could fall afoul of Redjac or any crude-minded individual and it would matter to none but the crows!”

“What makes you think a town is more sympathetic than a flock of crows?” Jim argued. “In my experience, many folk believe it is easier to see a man dead than to share his ill fortune.”

Leonard bit back a retort. “Then what do you suggest? This horse cannot continue on without reprieve and if we go on foot we might as well sit down in the grass and await our deaths.”

The man in front of him sighed. “If there was a forest we could cover our tracks and hide easily enough, but I know this land well: we will not be upon a tree line before nightfall. There is little choice here, Prince, if you mean for us to seek shelter.”

“The horse grows weary.”

“Then shelter it is,” said Jim grimly. “Look yonder.”

Leonard shaded his eyes. He saw after some moments of straining the tentative outline of a man-made structure to their left. As they continued riding, it grew larger, became an abandoned windmill with its roof fallen in and its vanes broken and rotting. When Jim resolutely turned the horse toward it, he exclaimed, “Surely you cannot mean to go there! Jim, that is too obvious a hideout!”

“You said you trusted me.”

“Clearly I have made a grievous error. You’re mad!”

Jim did not listen to his protests, however, and took them across the field at a steady pace. When they were upon the mill, Jim dismounted and left Leonard on the horse while he inspected their surroundings.

Leonard did not like the look of this mill in the least. “Why not hang a banner of white from the top declaring our defeat?” he groused.

Jim paused by an entrance which was missing its door; however he did not go in. Dagger in hand, he signaled for Leonard’s silence and went on to circle the curve of the mill’s exterior wall. Soon he was out of sight.

With foreboding Leonard scanned the rise they had left behind. Because he was also trying to hear something of Jim’s scouting expedition, he caught the curious sound of a nearby clinking, like the jingling of a bell, and nudged the horse forward to investigate.

He came up a tall pile of both bundled and loose hay, some of it dark brown with age and some of it fresh. One one side of it stood a donkey twitching its ears at a dragonfly. A tiny brass bell attached to its harness rang with the beast’s restless movements.

More interestingly, a man crouched there also. He ignored Leonard’s cautious approach in lieu of digging through an old burlap sack. Leonard guessed he was some local farmer or vagabond from his worn, mud-weighted boots and thick jumble of mismatched clothes.

“You there, old fellow,” he called from over his saddlebow.

The man scratched at an ear absently without looking around “What?”

“Whereabouts is the road to the nearest town?”

The man lifted his head, then, and Leonard drew hard on the reins, taken aback by the leather strung across his right eye.

He cleared his throat and fixed his gaze on a distant spot so as not to treat the man as a spectacle. “Sir, the road… where is the road?”

“What’d you say? Road, lad?” He spoke with a deliberate half-wittedness that began to irk the prince.

Dismouting, Leonard crossed to the haystack in three quick strides. “A road,” he repeated sharply, “any road! Surely there must be a town somewh—”

Somebody came skidding down from the top of the hay with a war cry more akin to a child’s whoop than a soldier’s bloody roar. Leonard leaped back on instinct and narrowly missed being toppled into.

The person landed on his knees with a clumsy thump. He had a shock of light-colored hair not unlike Jim’s but his face was that of a younger man’s.

The vagabond by the donkey dropped the sack and shot to his feet, fussing furiously. “By gods! What did I tell ye? Wait for the signal! THE SIGNAL, YOU GOOSE!”

And just like that, Leonard realized he had made a terrible mistake. He turned to run back to the mare but someone else was already there, patting down her withers while she danced nervously under the unfamiliar touch.

“Vermin, get away from my horse!” he shouted.

A fourth man came around the back side of the hay at a languid pace and blocked Leonard’s path. Leonard took one look at him and swallowed his next insult.

The fellow was dark-haired and not very tall; he drove the tip of a long broadsword into the ground with unmistakable strength and leaned upon its hilt, appraising Leonard like a stable master judging the worth of new horseflesh. His clothing was sober but very fine, tight and pulled about. The black sleeveless vest-cloak with silver-embroidered cord might have been the garb of a minor lord or a wealthy merchant. He bore no ornaments at all to match his rich dress.

Leonard found himself rooted in place under the man’s stare. Vaguely he was aware of the others closing in around him.

“Hello, wayward one. Are you lost?” the swordbearer inquired in a politely mocking tone.

The decoy, the one with the leather eye patch, came to stand beside this dangerous-looking man and, startling Leonard, lifted the patch to reveal a perfectly healthy eye. He studied the prince sideways, summing up what he saw with “Unarmed and probably penniless.”

“I want his boots,” said the youngest of the group.

Leonard drew in a long breath and took the fighting stance he had learned in his youth when the meaner of his cousins wanted to show off their latest skills in fighting. The quartermaster hadn’t always stopped them before the bruising became too deep. Suffice to say, ever since those times Leonard has had no liking for brutes.

He raised his fists. One of the men laughed.

“Return my horse,” the prince warned them, “and you will save yourselves an unpleasant fate.”

The leader plucked his sword out of the ground. “Shall we test that theory?”

Leonard was prepared to land at least one punch and subsequently be cleaved in two.

A shout of “HOLD!” distracted them all. Even the bloodthirsty youth snapped to attention.

The command came from a hard-eyed Jim, whose long legs quickly shortened the distance between them. Leonard discovered he was nervous rather than relieved, for in one glance it was apparent he was to meet the mercenary who existed beneath Kirk’s civility.

The storm in Jim’s face did not break until he was nearly upon them. By then, his dark tone had pinpointed Leonard’s would-be attacker. “You raise your sword only to me,” he said.

Leonard spared only a brief second to contemplate his gratitude. A dagger, he knew, could not stand against a long blade no matter how experienced its wielder.

Heart thumping, he hurried to Kirk and re-planted his feet in a defensive stance at the man’s side. The other men must have expected him to hide behind his champion because most of them lifted their eyebrows as he declared decisively, “We will take them together.”

“No,” said Jim. “Stand aside.”

“Nay!”

“Do as I say, Leonard.”

“Fool, who is in charge here?”

With an air of impatience the leader stuck his sword back into the ground and crossed his arms. To Jim, he said, “At our last parting, we agreed you would avoid my territory, Kirk.”

Leonard lowered his fists out of confusion.

Jim’s face lost its hard edge. He studied the other man for a moment then sheathed his dagger and stepped forward to extend a hand. They clasped forearms like soldier-brothers.

The prince felt his jaw unhinge. He recovered, grabbed the neck of Jim’s tunic and bent him backwards. “What is this foolery—!”

“Ow, ow, ow!”

Leonard relented and let him go.

Jim pointed, naming each fellow, “Sulu. Mitchell. Scotty and… someone new?”

“Chekov!” supplied said new one. “You are Kirk? How exciting!” Indeed, the youth did look extremely excited to be meeting the rogue Jim Kirk.

“I didn’t ask who they were!” Leonard bellowed. “How do you know them? Why would you—” He sucked in a breath all of a sudden, concluding the obvious much too late. “You brought us here… on purpose?”

Jim’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Maybe?”

The one named Scotty fixed his eye patch firmly back into place, drew out a small whittling knife and with it began to pick at his teeth. Since the confrontation had not come to bloody blows, Mitchell had turned his back on their group in order to inspect the mare’s shoes. Chekov was trying to be inconspicuous in sidling up to Jim.

A fury slowly filled Leonard.

Something must have shown in his face because Jim lifted his hands in a conciliatory manner. “It’s not as bad as it seems.”

The prince made a fizzling noise.

“We’re safe, I promise!”

Leonard could stand it no more. He exploded: “YOU MEASLE!” Latching back onto Jim, he gave the man a mean shake. “Y-You mammering, knotty-pated PUTTOCK! This is a bandit’s den! You have brought us to a bandit’s den!“

Scotty quit picking his teeth in order to say, “That’s a mite harsh. We’re more like…. opportunistic wayfarers.”

“Thieves,” hissed Leonard.

“Eh, semantics.” Scotty looked Kirk over. “So, where’s yer Hawk? Out hunting?”

Jim gently pried the prince’s tight fingers from his neck before he faced Sulu and Scotty. “Not hunting. Scouting. There’s a party some ways behind us.”

Sulu met this news with only a mild interest. “King’s men?”

“Flesh-takers.”

Each of Sulu’s men stiffened and, following a pause, spat to the side as if to rid themselves of the foulness brought on by the mere word.

“Nasty buggers,” muttered Scotty.

“We’ll kill them, yes?” Chekov urged.

But Sulu grabbed his sword and swung it over his shoulder, turning away. “Not our problem.”

Jim did not visibly react but Leonard could tell Jim was dismayed. He laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Let ’em walk,” he said. “I know a whiteliver when I see one.”

Up ahead, Sulu stopped.

Scotty stared at Leonard as though he had sprouted a second head. Jim simply folded his arms and waited.

Leonard was actually very glad to be next to Kirk when Sulu rejoined their circle. He had heard of men who moved like Death but never seen it for himself until he experienced Sulu’s deadly calm.

Sulu spoke evenly enough to make Leonard shiver. “Who is this man, Kirk?”

But the prince was no coward himself. He straightened to his full height. “I am Pr—”

Jim nudged him slightly.

“—Sir Leonard McCoy,” he finished, skipping his rightful title and deflating somewhat by the end of his surname.

“McCoy,” Sulu repeated, testing its sound. “If you would like to keep your tongue, I suggest you learn to hold it. You will not introduce slander among my men.”

“Is it slander that has offended you so or truth?” countered the prince.

“Och, this one’s a bit lumpish, isn’t he?” Scotty whispered to the others.

“Rybak rybaka vidit izdaleka.*”

Jim grinned all of a sudden, and Chekov puffed up with pride. Scotty frowned at them both.

“Ah,” Chekov said slyly to Scotty, “l forget myself. I only meant that in my country there is a saying: for each wise man there are plenty of fools.”

“Lad, why do I get the feelin’ that isn’t what you said at all?”

It was too late for the youth to look innocent but he attempted the feat anyway.

The mood had shifted with their by-play, and Jim took advantage of it as he spoke to Sulu. “Please forgive my friend. He is naturally offensive to others.”

“I am not!”

“And surly,” Jim added.

“You impertinent foot-licker!”

When a miffed Leonard tried to get at Jim to pinch some of his flesh, the man danced away.

“I take back from my doubts,” decided Scotty, lifting his eye patch slightly so he could watch the antics of the two men. “This is entertaining. Besides,” he contined on, sending a furtive look Sulu’s way, “most times when someone’s after Kirk the fellow has a very fat purse ‘n I’m tired of supping on grub worms and rabbit stew.”

Leonard stopped chasing Kirk. “Good fellow, I think that is a fine idea! You’re bandits. You go after Redjac.”

Leonard was almost shocked when Mitchell repeated “Redjac?” because he had yet to hear the man speak, much less in such a sharp tone.

“Do you know him?” Sulu questioned.

Mitchell stole a glance at Jim, who was looking away. “Heard of him, Sir,” he replied in a formal tone. Then he hesitated. “He’s…”

“Scum,” supplied Leonard. “He should be tried and hanged for his crimes.”

“There’d be the matter of catching him first.” Scotty considered Leonard. “Sounds to me like you’ve got a personal grievance.”

“He did try to sell me.”

“Ah, well then. That’s understandable. So we should pursue this bastard for coin and vengeance.”

When Scotty looked to Sulu, Sulu nodded slightly. “We’ll put it to a vote.”

Chekov said at once, “Death, for justice!”

Mitchell shrugged as if to say is there anything better to do?

“Garrovick gets a vote,” put in Scotty, “but as he’s watchin’ the horses I’ll vote for ‘im. We ride after Redjac.”

Leonard found this process somewhat fascinating. He leaned toward Kirk. “Why should each bandit have a part in the decision-making when there is a leader?”

“Because Sulu’s smart,” replied Jim. “With outlaws, it is wiser to ask up-front who will stand with you in battle without deserting halfway through. Generally speaking, men with little to lose are not likely to lie about their shortcomings.”

“Ah.” Leonard thought he understood.

Jim turned to Sulu. “Who will you send?”

Mitchell came forward. “If they are no more than half a day’s ride behind, I can circle them easily enough and return without being seen.”

“Do it,” ordered Sulu.

Mitchell left on foot, Leonard supposed, to retrieve a mount from the elusive Garrovick.

Jim waited until the bandit was out of sight before he moved to Sulu’s side. “Why is he still here?”

“Where else would he go?” countered the other man, and that seemed to quiet Kirk for the time being.

Leonard shifted on his feet, as did the mare. He went to her, calmed her, and took her reins in hand. “Is it wise to stay in the open like this?”

“Definitely not,” agreed Scotty. “We only came out for a bit of bait-and-hook when we noticed you comin’.” He shook his head in a sad manner. “‘Twas a failure, that.” He glared at Chekov.

Sulu remarked mildly, “He’s learning,” and moved towards the mill. As Scotty passed Leonard, he took the reins of the mare. “Best put her with her kind. She won’t like the dark.”

Leonard raised his eyebrows at this cryptic remark and watched Sulu’s men wander away. He found he wasn’t quite so ready to follow them as he had thought.

Sighing, he let his gaze skim the open land. He heard Mitchell on a horse before he saw him riding off to the west at a fast clip.

Jim came to stand beside him. “Am I forgiven?”

“You have many things you need to be forgiven for. This is just another.”

“All right.”

It was the calm acceptance in Jim’s voice that spurred Leonard to face him. “I do not understand you, Jim Kirk.”

Jim smiled. “Not yet.”

“You’re an assuming man.”

Jim crossed his arms. “I just know what I want—and believe I will get.”

Leonard flushed hot and looked away.

They stood together in silence for a while longer before Jim spoke again. “You needn’t feel on edge. We’ll have warning.”

Leonard shook his head slightly. “It’s not that.”

Kirk’s expression softened suddenly, and he too gave the horizon a considering stare. He admitted, “I suppose I should worry about him more than I do.”

“Likely you’ve known him long enough that you don’t need to.”

“So what’s your excuse?”

That startled Leonard. “What?”

“Or,” Jim added a bit slyly, “are you in fact unable to help yourself?”

“Surely you jest!” Leonard pursed his mouth. “Why would I waste my good sense on that varlet?”

“He does have a way of getting under one’s skin.”

“Like a disease,” muttered the prince. Then he lifted his chin and spun about. “This is pointless. I will not converse with you about Spock!”

“If it pleases you, Your Highness.” Jim was laughing at him again without actually laughing.

Leonard harrumphed and went on his way, telling himself he did not care if Jim Kirk followed him or not.

~~~

Wherever the bandits housed the horses and the donkey was not near the mill. That was just as well because the prince assumed the presence of the animals would ruin the illusion that the mill was abandoned.

Due to the small size of the structure, he did not think the bandits lived in it. Yet it was Chekov who stuck his head out of the open archway and beckoned Leonard inside. The interior of the mill was as decrepit as its exterior, if not moreso. Leonard pressed himself into a corner by the curve of a rotting staircase which led to a small square window situated at half the height of the windmill. In the darkness he could not see where Chekov had gotten to but that suited him fine; he could still smell the rankness of multiple unwashed bodies.

A scritching noise from his boot made him look down. A rat was stretching itself up his leg, its pink nose quivering.

Leonard jumped and gave his leg a shake, crying, “Off with you!”

The rat hurried into a gap between two fieldstones.

The prince closed his eyes as he locked his arms around himself, needing the moment to imagine himself elsewhere—back at his home, at his castle. But the vision swiftly dissipated; he saw instead his mother. He knew what she would say if she could see him. She had said it often enough to him when he was very young. It had been a lesson and a gentle chastisement whenever he had thrown a screaming fit, feeling wronged or betrayed over something trivial to an adult but not to a child. She had said to him: “Think on this moment that disappoints you so, Leonard. Is it truly worth the souring of your good character? Remember, events may be horrible or inescapable but men have always a choice—if not whether, then how, they may endure.”

It took him until adulthood to understand her meaning fully, and now—now he had to choose how he endured.

Someone was shaking his shoulder. The prince opened his eyes.

“C’mon” was all Jim said.

His companion shadows in the dark mill had disappeared, though Leonard could not figure out how where the bandits had gone without moving past him on their way out. Then he saw it, the opening which had been quite cleverly concealed by several old grain sacks. They passed through it to an underground chamber that had likely been a store-house for the mill. It had a bit of crude flooring and smelled faintly wet.

“Our home is very much a den,” said a proud Scotty as Leonard stepped into the long room.

Jim patted the bandit’s shoulder as he moved past them both.

Leonard looked about. “I would have thought your ilk preferred open spaces.”

“We do sometimes. It depends on the season. Rain makes for a chilly bed companion.”

Leonard gave Scotty a skeptical look. “It’s summer.”

“Aye,” agreed the too-cheerful man, “that it is!”

He gave up on making sense of this particular loggerhead and went after Jim, who was watching Chekov create a pile of rocks.

Not rocks, Leonard realized, but lumps of coal used in a smithy’s oven. “Surely you can’t mean to light a fire in here!” he said, aghast.

Chekov blinked at him. “Da. Who vants a cold supper?”

“NO ONE!” Scotty hollered across the room.

With a practiced hand, the young man gave three strikes to a flint over a little puff of wool. It began to smoke, then flame.

“There is no airflow in here,” Leonard complained to Jim. “Surely you can see that. The smoke has nowhere to go!”

“That’s the point. Lighting a fire above ground would give away our position.”

“Don’t you know smoke induces coughing fits and poor health of the lungs?”

“Ooh, is that why my chest gets raspy?”

The unexpectedness of hearing a voice directly behind him nearly made Leonard’s heart stop. He turned and glared at Scotty, who had sneaked up on him. “You, sir, are a menace!”

Jim placed a hand over his mouth but it did nothing to muffle his laughter.

“And you are surly,” Scotty replied amiably.

Jim just shook his head, gave Leonard a quick grin, and excused himself to speak with Sulu.

Leonard did not want to appear desperate for the company of the only person he marginally trusted, so he found an uncluttered spot along a dirt wall and sat down to sulk. To his dismay, he was joined.

“Did I offend ye?”

“Won’t you go away?” the prince muttered. Then, resigned to his fate, “If I am surly, then it is that knave Kirk who is at fault. I was a pleasant man before I was kidnapped.”

“That sounds like an interesting tale, lad. Who kidnapped you?”

“Jim did,” Leonard replied without thinking. He immediately regretted it.

Scotty sat back and let out a low whistle. “Master Kirk? Now this I have to hear in detail!” But rather than asking the prince anything further, he called out, “Jim! Jim, did ye kidnap this poor man?”

It was Chekov who came scurrying over, abandoning his watch over the fire. “Who is kidnapped? Are we kidnappers now?”

“Don’t sound so excited about it,” grumbled Leonard. He hunched in on himself when Jim and Sulu joined them.

But Jim didn’t look angry. “Is someone talking about me?”

“Leonard here says you stole him for cheap labor.”

Leonard cried foul and kicked at Scotty’s leg.

“Cheap he is not. He cost me a gold coin.”

“That was my coin, you purse-thief!”

Everyone except Kirk considered Leonard with varying degrees of interest and greed.

“Gold?” said Scotty.

“Gold!” cried Chekov.

“What manner of person did you steal, Kirk?” Sulu wondered. “Is he an duke’s son? A favored courtier of a queen?”

Leonard felt himself turning red.

Jim leaned in to push a lock of brown hair out of the prince’s eyes, replying fondly, “He’s a healer.”

Scotty and Chekov made the same noise of disappointment. Sulu nodded but Leonard had an inkling the man thought Kirk was lying.

Scotty stuck his foot out. “Healing’s not such a bad profession, I guess. Here, take a look at this.” He bent over to unlace his boot, mumbling to himself.

Leonard caught the words weird growth and toes and insisted, “No, no, I’m not that skilled!” He stood up and almost fell over in his haste to put some distance between himself and the loose-witted bandit.

Jim caught and steadied him.

“Do not let that man’s foot come near me,” he said to Kirk.

Smiling, Jim slid an arm around his back and led him to the opposite side of the den.

~~~

Mitchell returned with good news.

“I could not see them,” he reported. “Mayhap they’ve given up the chase?”

Sulu looked to Jim.

Jim did not appear to like this good news as much as Leonard did, for he said, “No man lays aside revenge so easily.”

“Cannae disagree with that,” said Scotty.

Leonard spoke up. “Then what of Spock? Was he not nearby?”

Mitchell shook his head.

“It could be he led them astray so that we might escape,” the prince speculated. “Isn’t that possible?”

Jim pressed his mouth into a dissatisfied line but gave a nod of acknowledgement anyway.

Sulu told Mitchell to take over tending the fire which Leonard suspected was a superfluous reason to allow the man rest after his excursion. To Jim, Sulu said, “There is still some sun left but not enough that I care to risk coming upon a swordsman near dark. You can move on, or wait through the night here. The choice is yours.”

“We’ll stay.”

Leonard could guess why Jim chose as he did, and he could not fault the man for it; it seemed Jim had an inclination to worry about Spock after all.

Resigned to the fact that he would have to spend more hours fending off Scotty’s attempts to persuade him to diagnose his numerous ailments, Leonard went to the fire where Mitchell sat and stared glumly at the glowing coals. He had expected they would both have a desire for silence. He was wrong.

Mitchell remarked, “Leonard, is it?”

The prince dipped in his head.

“How long have you been… riding with Jim?”

He remembered then that Mitchell had not been present when he revealed the ordeal of his kidnapping. Counting on his fingers, Leonard came up to seven. “A week,” he said, sighing.

Mitchell considered him for a long moment, before fixing his gaze on the small pot hanging over the coals where a stew of some sort occasionally popped a bubble. “Not long enough, then.”

“What’s that mean?”

“You know what he does?”

“If you mean that he’s a sword for hire, the answer is yes.”

Mitchell met his eyes again. “And do know what kind of man he is?”

Leonard raised his eyebrows and stared as if to say you tell me.

Mitchell smiled at him without much humor. “I guess that was a bad question. The man he is now and the man he used to be are vastly different.”

This caught Leonard’s interest. “So you’ve known him quite a while.”

“We grew up together.”

Then why do you speak his name as if you loathe his existence?

Instead of saying that, Leonard picked at his thumbnail in an idle fashion. “I honestly have no need to hear of his past. We won’t be together much longer.”

That had been the response Mitchell did not anticipate; Leonard saw it first in his eyes and then in his faint sneer.

Mitchell stood abruptly and left him alone.

Leonard twisted around to find Jim behind him. He couldn’t tell if the man was displeased or not, so he pointed at the stew and said, “What is this maw-wallop?”

Jim’s gaze shifted to the pot and lightened. “Don’t know. Who made it?”

“I thought that little brat did.”

“Let’s hope so, Bones, because Scotty only knows how to cook rat.”

Leonard drew his brows together. “Who is Bones?”

The man gave a soft, amused huff. “I don’t know that either.” Then he turned and moved away.

The prince stared after him for a long time.

~~~

Leonard had some of the stew which to his blatant relief consisted mostly of turnips and mushy barley. Having a filled belly had the effect of making him drowsy. He dozed in stops and starts, until at last Jim threw a horse blanket over his legs and bade him sleep.

Leonard told him no.

“Did you give your servants this much trouble?”

Leonard forced one of his eyes open so he could glare at Kirk as he retorted, “Only the bad ones.”

Jim settled cross-legged next to him. “Go to sleep, Bones.”

“Why are you calling me that? I don’t like that name.”

“But you have so many bones to pick with me, what else would suit you?”

“Do you know what suits you?“

“Flax-wench?”

Jim was at the wrong angle for Leonard to kick his shin. “Never mind!” he grumped and laid down to roll himself into the blanket. “When I wake up, you will be gone and I will be where I have been all along, in my bed in my castle because this has been a terrible figment of my imagination!” He faced the wall.

Breath ghosted against the hair above his ear. “Bones?”

Leonard set his teeth and refused to answer.

“Booones?”

He had to pull the end of the blanket over his head.

A weight landed against his shoulder. He thought it was Jim’s hand but when Jim mumbled “I’m sorry” into the blanket he realized it was Jim’s head.

He couldn’t say anything then if he wanted to. His mouth was dry, and his heart was pounding.

Eventually, after he had feigned sleep long enough, the weight lifted and Jim went away. It was ridiculous, of course, that Leonard missed him.

~~~

He didn’t know who had eavesdropped or what had been said, but Leonard woke up groggily to the sight of his least favorite bandit leaning over him.

“A prince!” exclaimed Scotty.

Leonard snapped to full awareness. When he tried to extricate himself from his blanket, he found that Scotty had planted a knee on it to keep him trapped. Up close, it looked like the man was salivating.

“A real live prince!” Scotty said again.

Had the man only seen dead ones until now? That was a frightening thought for Leonard. He struggled all the more to get out of his blanket prison. “Begone!” he cried, partly in desperation, when Scotty tsked and tucked the blanket more firmly around his chin.

“Och, calm yerself now, little princie! We don’t want ye catchin’ a chill!”

“Jim!” Leonard shouted once, then more loudly, “JIM!”

Jim did not appear, and that set Leonard close to panicking. He envisioned that the bandits had killed him while he slept and dragged away the body.

Or put him in day’s stew.

There was nothing for it: Leonard rocked back and forth until he could gain momentum and then swung up to crack his head into Scotty’s grinning face. The man fell back with a cry of “My nose!”

Leonard quickly divested himself of the horse blanket and scrambled to his feet. He made it halfway to the exit before its door suddenly swung inward of its own accord.

Chekov stuck his face in through the hole. His eyes lit up when he saw Leonard. “Ze prince is awake!”

Leonard barreled through the opening like his life depended on it, knocking Chekov out of the way. He should have expected the young man to recover quickly and pursue him.

They broke free of the mill at the same time. Leonard had a single glance to judge the lay of the light and determine that it was early morning before he was set upon.

He and Chekov went rolling sideways in a tangle of limbs through the dirt.

Chekov staggered to his feet first and produced a thin pick-blade from a sleeve. He prodded at the air near Leonard, saying gleefully, “What ransom can we get?”

Leonard bared his teeth. “Boy, if you come within spitting distance of me, I’ll knock you straight back into your mother’s womb!”

“But—”

Leonard jumped towards him, and to his surprise the youth went skittering back with wide eyes. He had dropped his knife.

Leonard set his boot on it and narrowed his eyes. “Who told you I was a prince?”

Chekov only shook his head and threw up his hands, still yet backing farther away.

“Who?“

“Bones?”

Leonard whirled around to find Jim moving toward him, blinking owlishly in the daylight. The man was clean-shaven and his hair was wet.

“You!” Leonard hissed at him. “You! I can’t even think of a proper obscenity to describe you!”

Jim looked confused. “Did I do something?”

“How dare you tell them I’m a—”

“Kirk?” came Sulu’s voice, interrupting them.

Jim gave Leonard a final puzzling glance before he called back, “Here! What is it?”

The subtle grief in Sulu’s expression caused Leonard’s stomach to drop.

“Garrovick’s dead,” Sulu told them.

Chekov turned pale.

Leonard had not once seen this Garrovick of whom Sulu spoke, but he had to assume the death of a comrade meant something to the bandits.

“What happened?” Jim demanded.

“Drowned in the river.”

“There’s a river?” Leonard asked, surprised.

“Farther south, where the horses are,” replied Jim dismissively. “How?”

“Don’t know,” said Sulu, the tightness around his eyes saying more about how he felt than his tone. “It could’ve been a slip or a deliberate push. He was unmarked.” Sulu looked away. “Garrovick… was a good man.”

“I’m sorry,” Jim said.

Leonard didn’t realize Chekov had disappeared until he looked over to the mill and saw him coming out with Scotty. Scotty was cupping his nose with a hand; he was as pale as Chekov and likely not from his nosebleed.

Sulu questioned him sharply, “What happened to you?”

The bandit lowered his gaze, murmuring, “Nothin’. Bit of foolin’ around.”

Leonard didn’t like that he sounded ashamed. “We brangled.”

Sulu’s mouth thinned in anger.

“He started it,” Leonard went on to say. “I don’t do well when I’m woken unexpectedly.”

“All’s forgiven and forgotten,” Scotty said quickly, coming forward. “Garrovick’s the one who’s dead. Who got him? Do we know?”

“No.”

Scotty swore an oath.

Leonard noticed who was missing, then. “Where’s Mitchell?”

Sulu answered. “Saddling the horses. We’re moving camp.” He exchanged a look with Kirk.

Leonard interpreted it as “You think this was the hand of Redjac?”

Jim shook his head slightly. “Best not to find out, Bones.”

“Jim…”

Kirk turned away, as did the other men, at the sight of Mitchell leading the horses in a line towards the mill.

Leonard closed his eyes in frustration. There was something underfoot, he felt, but he couldn’t grasp at what it was. Was Garrovick’s the act of something sinister? If so, who had done it, and more importantly why?

Surely they would have been waylaid already if Redjac and his men were roaming about. No, none of it made sense, and leaving as they planned seemed like… following a path to something worse.

Because he couldn’t give voice to what he didn’t know, he remained frustration and paced a distance away from the others.

His life was not simple anymore. It wasn’t time spent making salves for scrapped knees and letter-writing to dignitaries; it wasn’t hours of reading by candlelight and taking meals when he wanted them.

This was violence and avarice, death and deception.

He truly wanted no part in it but like a babe that opened its eyes for the first time, he could not return to the darkness.

He stole a glance at Jim who was untying the mare’s lead from the other horses and wondered how anyone could make peace with such a world.

Jim must have perceived his regard because he cast a quick look in Leonard’s direction and offered up a small smile. Leonard could tell his heart wasn’t in it, however.

Where would they go? he thought to himself. South, still, or try another path? And could they go on when there was one missing?

As if the thought had conjured it, a tiny shadow-figure appeared on the horizon.

Leonard gasped out, “Look!” He raised his voice for Jim to hear. “Look there! Jim, it’s Spock! I think it’s—”

From one second to the next the prince’s hope became dread. What he assumed had been in error: the figure was just the stallion, the one which had borne Spock from his kingdom, running wild and riderless through the grass.

No, Leonard thought.

Having heard the cry, Jim brushed past him, slowed, stopped one or two steps ahead—and went absolutely still.

Feeling sick, Leonard approached him.

There was no color left in the man’s face. His eyes were wide and slightly shock-glazed. Leonard grabbed at his hand and called his name.

Jim released a breath, following it with a strange keening sound in the back of his throat. Leonard turned to look again in hopes he had been wrong.

A second horse had appeared in the interim. This one bore a rider. The man and horse neither came forward nor moved back, just simply stood still upon the rise.

Leonard hardly needed to think. He just knew.

So Jim did too. He spun around and ran. Leonard couldn’t catch up to him before he had a foot in one of the mare’s stirrups.

“You can’t!” Leonard cried. “It’s a trap!”

The others had stirred from various places, were gathering around them.

Leonard made a grab for the reins but Jim wheeled the horse around too quickly.

“Jim!” he said, frightened.

“What’s going on?” Sulu barked, striding over to them with one hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Spock,” Kirk said in a chilling flatness. “They have him.”

There was no other choice. Jim wouldn’t listen to reason, and Leonard couldn’t let the witless fool go alone. “Bring me a horse!” he snapped out to those standing about and gawking.

Jim took a deep breath like he had just cleared water and turned to stare at the prince. “No,” he said, iron in his voice, “you’ll stay here.”

“Like hell! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“STAY HERE!” Jim shouted at him abruptly, eyes blazing. He dug his heels into the mare’s sides and she jerked.

A whistle cut the air between them. As Kirk’s glare whipped around to Sulu, Sulu unbuckled his sword—sheath and all—and tossed it to the man. “Better to have a proper weapon for a fight on horseback.”

Kirk nodded once, and then the mare took off across the field at a run.

The prince cursed and flung himself upon the nearest person—who happened to be Chekov. “Give me a horse this instant!”

Sulu grabbed Leonard by the neck of his tunic and shoved him none-too-gently off of the young man. “Scotty, watch him. Pavel, bring me another sword and arm yourself. Gary, with me. We’ll take three geldings. And you,” he spoke before Leonard could protest, “will do nothing foolish.”

“Who are you to give me orders?” spat Leonard.

“Someone who knows the difference between a battlefield and a dueling ring—so listen closely, McCoy: do you want Kirk to save his man?”

“Yes.”

“Then you will do more harm than good if you follow him. You would force him to choose.”

Leonard did not like that Sulu was right but he nodded his understanding anyway.

Sulu released him. When Chekov returned and they were all bearing weapons—sword, spear, and bludgeon—the three bandits mounted to follow in Kirk’s wake.

Leonard felt helpless standing there. Then Sulu surprised him; he wheeled his horse about, gave him a salute and drew his sword.

The prince laid a fist over his heart. “Our hopes ride with you. Fare thee well.”

The men spurred their horses and then were gone.

Rybak rybaka vidit izdaleka. – literally “A fisherman can tell another fisherman from afar” or as it said more commonly – It takes one to know one.

Next Part

Related Posts:

• A Quarter South (7/7) – from July 5, 2014
• A Quarter South (6/7) – from July 4, 2014
• A Quarter South (4/5) – from June 23, 2014
• A Quarter South (3/5) – from June 17, 2014
• A Quarter South (2/3) – from June 9, 2014

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