The Marshal

The stranger walked into the edge of town on a dull, cloudy morning. A tall figure wearing a wide hat and wrapped in a blanket against the chill. Only their boots showed beneath the blanket. Not the flashy footwear of the wealthy, they were well-worn and practical work boots.

It was far too early in the morning for most of the town, so the only witnesses to the stranger’s arrival were the livestock in the pens near the road, and the innkeeper who happened to be outside to watch the sunrise and take a guess at the day’s weather.

He waved at the stranger then retreated into the inn as though he’d just decided that was a bad idea. Far too soon after he’d shut the door, the stranger opened it and walked in.

“I—I’m Heironymus, and this is my inn. Wo—would you be needing a room?”

Still hidden from view, the first thing the stranger uncovered was the star on their chest. After standing in silence for a moment, the stranger dropped the blanket to reveal her tall, thin form, her left hand returning a pistol to its holster.

“Good morning, Heironymus. I’m marshal Emma Collins, and I would very much like a room. Do you have anything long-term?” She removed her hat, freeing her inky-black hair to fall to her shoulders in unkempt waves.

Heironymus stared at the figure in front of him. “You don’t look like any marshal I’ve ever seen.”

Emma snapped her fingers and pointed to her face where piercing light-brown eyes shone against the deep bronze of her skin. “My eyes are up here. And do you have a long-term room?”

“I’m sure we can find something.” He flipped through the book on the desk in front of him while he hemmed and hawed.

“You know I can see that there’s nothing in your reservations book, right? And I see eleven keys on the wall behind you and only two empty hooks.”

He closed the book and attempted a smile that was wholly out of place on his face. “I can give you a suite with an attached bath for,” he seemed to think on it, “twenty-two a week.”

“You wouldn’t be trying to rip off a marshal, would you?” She leaned over the desk, her height imposing.

“I—It’s not that. I’m just trying to work out a rate that’s—”

“Fifteen a week,” she said, “and breakfast every morning, since you’re up early.” She pointed at the sign behind him. “That’s nearly double your usual rate.”

“Right, right.” He grabbed a key from the top row of the hooks and fumbled it for a moment before managing to set it on the counter. “Top floor, furthest on the end, faces the mountains.”

Emma picked up the key and laid down a stack of cash. “Here’s thirty for two weeks. If I’ll be here longer, I’ll pay up before then.”

Heironymus gave a slight bow before scooping up the bills and stuffing them into the small drawer under the counter. “I don’t have any breakfast for today, but if you need I can—”

“That’s fine. I’ll get some sleep this morning and take a walk around later this afternoon.”

“And your bags?” he asked, looking around her feet where only a blanket lay.

“Another marshal will be bringing those by this evening.”

“Wi—will they be needing a room, too?”

“Nope. Just me. He’ll drop my bag off and continue on his way. I just wanted to get here early.”

Emma picked up the blanket and walked up the stairs to the third floor where she found her room. She folded the blanket and laid it on the foot of the bed, pulled a folding brush out of a side pocket and tamed her hair in front of the small mirror in the bath.

She removed her duty belt and laid it on the bed next to where she lay, the pistol in reach of her left hand, her boots atop her folded blanket. Emma closed her eyes and took a nap. By the time she woke, her arrival should be all over town. The innkeeper seemed the nervous sort that would squawk to everyone about his unexpected guest. Good, she thought, let them squirm. As she dozed off, she wondered if Heironymus was in on it.

She woke with a chill. The room was cooler than she preferred, and with the south-facing window got no sun. She hoped she’d packed some warm clothes, but with nothing to be done for it at the moment, she strapped on her duty belt, checked the seven-pointed star on her left breast, put on her hat, and walked out of the inn.

The town was small and quiet. There was one place to eat that doubled as a saloon in the evenings, and she made her way there. The conversations that wove around and through each other fell silent as she entered.

She removed her hat and sat at a table farthest from the door. After a round of silent stares from everyone in the now library-silent room, a short waitress approached.

“What can I get for you?”

“Whatever the special of the day is, and do you have orange juice or lemonade?”

“We don’t have anything like that.”

“Water is fine,” she said. She looked around and saw plates piled with meat and bread. Fine for the locals, she thought, but it’s a good thing I packed a bunch of vitamins.

She ate her meal in silence, seemingly ignoring the stares of the locals. In truth, she was looking for the sort of nervous behavior that might mark one or more of them as being her target.

A couple of locals near the door caught her attention. Rather than openly staring, they went back to their meal as if nothing unusual was happening before they walked out. One ate left-handed, the other right. The left-handed one seemed to be calling the shots.

Emma watched them walk out, past the windows going the opposite direction of the inn. They turned down an alley and out of view. On a hunch, Emma walked to the front of the dining room and watched through the window where she caught sight of them walking toward the inn on the next street over.

She sat back down and finished her meal before motioning for the waitress. “Who were those two that left?” she asked.

“Elian and Caliaphas. They mostly keep to themselves,” the waitress said, “unless they’re deman—asking for something.”

Emma nodded. “Thanks.” She laid two bills on the table and stood.

“That’s too much.”

“That’s for the meal, the service, and the information.” Emma winked. “Keep it.”

She returned to the inn where the previously empty hooks held keys. She didn’t see Heironymus anywhere, but figured he had other things to do.

The sound of the buggy trundling up to the inn brought her back into the moment, and she stepped outside to meet her fellow marshal and get her bags.

“Hey, Balian, how was the trip?”

“Bumpy, dusty, long. What time did you get in?”

“Around sunrise.”

“Anyone ever tell you, you walk too fast?”

Emma laughed. “You. All the time.”

Balian struggled with her bags, letting them fall to the ground with a thud. “Why did you pack so much?”

“It’s cold. Plus, I don’t know when I’ll be able to re-supply, so I’ve got a bunch of ammo and first-aid supplies, too.” She easily lifted both bags and turned toward the inn. “Did you want to come in and rest for a bit? It’s not much….”

“Not unless you changed your mind about backup.”

Emma chuckled. “No, nothing like that. I saw a footpath leading off the road last night, a couple klicks back.”

“That must be where the two locals were going. Why were they in a hurry?”

She nodded toward the inn. “They were staying here. I’m guessing they didn’t like having a marshal staying down the hall from them.”

“Did you get names?”

“Caliaphas and Elian.”

“I’ll pass that on up the chain, see what we can connect them to.”

“I’m betting they’re involved in the freight hijackings…and they’re certainly armed. Locals seem spooked by them.”

“Oh, I put the keys to the marshal’s office and cells in the smaller bag; the one you loaded up for war. Sometimes I wonder about you people….”

She paused and turned back to fully face the other marshal. “You people?!”

“Sorry, you know what I mean. Just be careful. There’s no wire here, so no way to call for help.”

Emma smiled. “I’ve got it. Besides, they’ve never seen a marshal like me.”

Balian snorted. “They’ve never seen an anything like you.”

After unpacking, Emma assembled the carbine that had been packed with her clothes and loaded all the carbine and pistol magazines she had.

She made sure she had two pairs of cuffs, six magazines for the carbine, and four for the pistol, her cuff key, and a dozen or so zip cuffs. She tightened her duty belt and rapped on the breastplate of the armor under her uniform.

She thought about wrapping up in the blanket again, but her height would give her away anyway. For now, she was going to have to play it by ear.

Arriving at the bottom of the stairs she found Heironymus, his left arm in a sling, the left side of his face swollen. He flinched away from her as she approached.

“It’s okay, Heironymus. I take it Elian and Caliaphas did this?”

His voice was a weak whisper. “Caliaphas. Wanted to make sure I wasn’t the one that called the marshals. Elian just watched and laughed.”

“Did they say anything else?”

“They’re coming back in after dark tonight. I have to let them in your room.”

Emma laughed. “I love it when they make my job easy. Listen, Heironymus, I’m going to go make sure the cells are ready for them. You do exactly what they tell you to when they get here, but don’t tell them you talked to me. You avoided me, right?”

The innkeeper nodded. “If they knew, they’d kill me.”

“That won’t be a problem after tonight.”

Emma walked through the town to the marshal’s office, all eyes on her fully armed and combat-ready form. She let herself into the office, the dust of long abandonment on every surface. She made sure the cells closed and locked properly, shook out the meager bedding and re-folded it.

That done, she walked back to the saloon and ordered a plate to go. She took her food with her to the inn and settled into her room.

It was in the early morning hours, her blanket around her shoulders keeping her warm when she heard her door unlock. Caliaphas was the first one in, as evidenced by the fact he was right-handed.

Once Caliaphas was inside, Elian followed. They both raised pistols and emptied them into the figure on the bed. Elian moved toward the bed and Emma stood, dropped the blanket and kicked the door shut from where she’d sat behind it.

“You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of a marshal. Drop your weapons and put your hands out to the side.”

Elian started to turn around and Emma fired a round from her carbine past his ear. “You don’t want to do that.”

Caliaphas dropped his weapon and held his arms out. Elian seemed to be trying to decide his next move.

“If you want to die, just do anything other than dropping your weapon. Same amount of paperwork either way.”

Elian’s shoulders relaxed and he dropped his pistol. Emma kept her carbine pointed at them as she approached and cuffed them, Elian first.

After getting them into the cells, filling out her paperwork and giving the office a quick dusting, the sun began to rise. “You gentlemen will be transferred to the city in a couple days,” she said. “Until then, make yourselves comfortable.”

She walked back to the saloon and found Heironymus ordering her breakfast. “Thanks,” she said, “I’ll just eat it here.”

A crowd began to assemble in the dining room, word seeming to spread about the arrest. When she felt there were enough people around to make it worthwhile, she stopped eating her breakfast and stood.

“Listen up,” she said. “The Marshal Service has decided that the frontier has been without full-time law enforcement for too long. That changes now. I’m the permanent marshal assigned to your town, and I won’t stand by while hijackers use this place as a hideout.”

Someone from the crowd called out, “But, you’re a….”

Emma’s right eyebrow rose. “I’m a marshal. You were saying?”

Heironymus slammed his tail down on the wooden floor. Despite his wounds and swollen face, he spoke loud and clear enough for everyone to hear. “Yes, she’s a human. Probably the first ever in this backwashed part of space, but she’s a marshal. Besides, she put Elian behind bars without any trouble.”

“Thank you, Heironymus. By the way, tell me how much it’ll cost to replace the bedding and towels those idiots shot up, and I’ll get the Marshal Service to pay you for it.”

He started to think when she leaned down to eye-level, staring into his compound eyes. “Just the actual replacement cost…plus, say, ten percent for the hassle.”

“Of course,” he said, “you’ve saved me from letting out two suites for free.”

“If anyone has any questions, find me in the marshal’s office or around town. If there’s a problem, same, except you can get me any time of night in the inn. Third floor, last room.”

With that, she sat back down to finish her breakfast. Unlike the previous day, conversations began again in the dining room, rising to an almost raucous level. Emma smiled. “I think I’m going to like it here.”