Journey from the West

Journey from the West

Chapter 1
Foiled Assassination

by
Cursed by Dragons

The woman who'd greeted him at the station had called this place Penance, named after the Christian belief of repenting for once's sins. Ideally, it meant all the citizens of the small saloon town had a lot to answer for. That suited Sylvester Lelvenshire just fine as he was ordered off the coach. The church in front of him was the most opulent building within a twenty mile radius. It looked very out of place in a town otherwise filled with wooden buildings that appeared ready to collapse the moment a strong enough breeze whistled through. A great deal of time and effort, and more importantly, money, had gone into this place.

It gave his ten-year old frame the chills.

The woman at the station, he hadn't bothered asking her for her name, had gone through a great deal of trouble to arrange his hair so that his ears would be hidden from sight. On the way to the church, Sylvester had fixed it back up to where the pointed tips were proudly displayed for all to see. He saw no point in hiding his heritage from anyone. It was pointless, though he hadn't tried to stop her. His face showed enough of the elven blood running through his veins without the tell-tale mark of being half-elf.

One by one, Sylvester ascended the steps and knocked on the door. People down below on the street passed by without giving him any notice. That was fine by him. Experience had taught him that any attention directed towards him would result only in misfortune, be it directly or as a result thereof afterwards. The door finally opened for him, revealing an older woman dressed in the traditional attire of a priestess. She took one look at him, her eyes lingering on his ears for a moment longer than necessary, and motioned for him to follow without a word. Sylvester had no suitcase or possessions to take with him other than what he was wearing, so he was quick on his feet to trail after her. The priestess led him through the chapel, walking slow enough so his young eyes would have time to take everything in.

Despite his circumstances, Sylvester couldn't help but be curious. It was the first time he'd ever set foot inside a church of any sort before, though his mother had made mention of them a time or two in the past. The windows were large enough that the expansive room was well-lit. Candles hung between them for nightime use, though he suspected this place had been wired for the famed electric wick. Each glass pane was a testament to some horrific scene, each one more disturbing than the last. At the very end of the room, hanging high up on the wall over a large, narrow, wooden desk of some kind, was an effegy of a nude man hanging from criss-crossing planks. The sight made him stop short in fear, and his stomach churn.

The priestess noticed he had stopped moving, and looked up at what had caught his attention. She then smiled, as though extraordinarily pleased by something, and allowed him a moment to recover. Sylvester looked down at the laminated floor, feeling sick. He wanted to go back to the Sylvan Wildlands that split up between the Union States of America and Republic of California in the mid-west. He wanted to be with his father and mother again, whom he'd last seen just as the soldiers rode in. He wanted to be away from this awful place. Even the air felt wrong in here somehow. It should have been warmer, but it was cold. Cold and uncomfortable.

All of a sudden, Sylvester wanted to cry more than anything. But he couldn't, because he'd promised himself that he wouldn't. He'd swore after his mother had sent him with the strange man that had dark skin, the man who'd died trying to get him away from the battefield, that he'd never again cry.

It had been a long journey for him, but Sylvester wasn't allowed to rest yet. He was lead to another part of the church were there were a number of other children. All of them were working, and Sylvester was immediately put to task alongside them. He noticed at once than many of the children there, both male and female, were just like him. Some tried to hide it by covering their ears the way the woman at the station had. Others had hair that wasn't long enough, and it looked to him as though someone had hacked it off roughly. These were the ones that refused to look up from what they were doing, as though ashamed. Sylvester ignored everyone and went to work, scrubbing the floors first with the rag that was handed to him, then moved on to sweeping in one of the narrow chambers used for study.

A man was in the room, but he paid Sylvester no mind, as though he didn't exist. When Sylvester finished, he went about looking for something else to do. Though he still wished to go back to the Wildlands, the work was oddly soothing. For a while, at least, his thoughts and memories of the past several months were pushed aside in favor of doing something simple and effortless. The children here all worked with the same momentum, some even moving together in unison, as if bewitched. There was no light or warmth in their eyes, he saw. These were the ones who'd had all hope sucked out of them.

Later that night, Sylvester was shown where he could rest. This was the only time the boys were seperated from the girls. The priestess in charge of them didn't bother worrying about age, so for the first time that night, he got a good look at what an older male looked like.

Sylvester had never had any other siblings. His only sister, born several years after him, had died shortly after childbirth of some disease his mother had caught while she was pregnant. Illness had been a foreign concept to her, as the elves had never known sickness until they were forced from their holy lands by settlers. It was only then that they became susceptable to them. Luckily, his human father had known enough about treating her to save her life, but not the child. He'd had often wished for other brothers and sisters to play with. None of the other settlers would come near their farm, so the only time Sylvester saw children his own age was at the yearly fair held in town.

Elves, as a rule, did not have body hair. Since his father had been human, the question of whether he would develop any was still up in the air. Many of the older boys did not have mixed ancestry in them, so they had already begun to develop in certain areas. As he lay on the lower bunk trying to sleep, one of those boys slipped out of bed from across the room and came towards him. Sylvester stiffened wondering if he was about to be attacked, but the boy merely climbed up to the upper bunk using the edge of his as a stepladder. Curious, he waited and soon felt the bunk begin to rock back and forth. Soft cries, the kind made by someone not wanting to get caught, drifted down to the acute ears inherited from his mother. More of the boys began moving back and forth to one another's bunks. Soon, the whole room was filled with familiar sounds.

Sex was nothing strange to him. His mother's people were very casual and open about it; therefore, his mother had treated him with the same respect. Sylvester had learned of it at a very young age, both from having his mother explain the basics of it to him, and from secretly watching his parents. Until he had been forced out of their home, whenever he heard cries coming from his parents' bedroom next door, Sylvester would sneak out of bed and peek through the knothole in the wall. Watching his father and mother together became a nightly ritual for him. There was something undeniably magical about the act to him.

His mother had often said that sex was something men and women did together, both with each other and their own gender, for reproduction and for pleasure. Though he knew boys and men could have sex together, he'd never witnessed it before. It should have been exciting, yet something odd about the cries he heard made him stay huddled up in his sheets. Many of the cries didn't sound like they came from someone enjoying themselves. To him, it sounded more like they wanted it to stop. Despite this, his prepubescent boy-cock soon grew to an uncomfortable length in his night pants.

As Sylvester listened to the soft moans and cries of pain, he began stroking himself, soon pulling his small length out from under the bedsheets. Hearing their cries, he masturbated to the sounds of his bunkmates being raped, not noticing the small peephole in a corner watching the whole scene unfold.

* * * * *

The whore hadn't come cheap. She hadn't looked thrilled with the prospect of dealing with him, either, but when the proprietor of the establishment saw he was willing to pay upfront, there hadn't been room for argument. He'd found her scowling as they went upstair funny, but even more funny was the look on her face when he got undressed. Getting a look at the thick piece of equipment he was packing between his legs had dropped her jaw nearly down to her breasts, which had already begun to heave in anticipation. Without another word, she got down on her knees in front of him and took his sausage between her lips.

The blowjob was nice, but he'd paid for the full service. Once his shaft was standing upright and proper, Sylvester swept her up over his shoulder and deposited her on the bed. The whore spread her legs once invitingly, expecting him to shove it in without preamble, but Sylvester instead dove in head-first between her thick thighs and began working his tongue between the folds of flesh there.

This caught her off-guard. Most paying customers didn't want much more than a few minutes of rough and tumble, enough that they got off, got out of there, and home to their wives who would be pissed as all hell for them staying out so late. Every now and then, one would come along that took their feelings into account for a few minutes, but she'd long since retired to the belief that men saw her as a means to an end. There was nothing wrong with that, really. It was just business, and she was there to make sure they got what they'd paid for.

Sylvester, however, had always believed in making sure a lady's time spent with him was just as enjoyable, even if she happened to be a lady of ill repute. For the first twenty minutes of their hour together, he alternated between licking the juice from her opening like a hungry cat and sucking her taught nipples, both of which were highly sensitive. An elf's tongue was, in actuality, built like a cat's was, and longer than the average human's. Most people didn't care enough to notice. He'd inherited it from his mother's side, and while it had been nature's way of ensuring they obtained the maximum amount of nutrients from bones and fruit, there were other advantages as well. When she came again for the second time, the bed springs let out an awful squeak.

Not giving her time to recover, he grasped her hips in his road weary fingers and turned her over to where she was up on all fours. The whore let out a squeal of delight when he pushed through into her. She was much tighter than he'd expected. Keeping this in mind, Sylvester managed to hold himself back for a few seconds, hoping her insides would adjust to him. When it didn't, however, and he still felt her gripping his cock like a vice, the outlaw gave up and plunged the rest of the way in. She cried out now, as if the air had been forced out of her, but didn't try to fight him off. Taking this as a good sign, he hopped up on his legs behind her and tore lose, letting her have the full length of him in long, hard, forceful strokes.

They had another thirty-five minutes together, give or take, so Sylvester tried to give her what he thought the money was worth. That had been the idea, anyway, but after about fifteen minutes, he felt his balls draw up. The low-hanging orbs, covered in a soft fuzz like a kitten's pelt, pulsated almost painfully before unloading their contents into her. Sylvester gave a shout as he came buckets inside of her. The whore was screaming right along with him, pushing herself back onto his cock as fast as she could, determined to keep up the same pace. When his shaft went soft in her, drained completely of every last drop of seed, his strength went with it. Sylvester felt his legs give out and fell on top of her. The whore gave a sigh of content, then turned to look at him closely.

Sylvester tensed as she reached up with one hand and lightly brushed his ears. When her finger struck the tip, he seized her by the wrist roughly, and drew her hand away. "Those are off limits," he told her, giving her wrist a squeeze for good measure.

"I've just..." she tried, then cleared her throat. "I've never seen them up close before. Do they feel different?"

"Don't know," he admitted, letting her go. "How do human ears feel by comparison?"

"I... don't know."

"There you go, then."

Silence drifted between them. "I always had heard that elves don't have body hair, except for what's on their head. You almost look like you could use a shave. Also, down there..."

She actually blushed, which might have been funny, but he only found her curiosity annoying. Still, Sylvester found himself satisfying it along with everything else. "Full-blooded elves don't have body hair," he explained, raising up slightly. "My father was human, so I have certain human traits."

"Like that?" she asked, pointing between his legs.

"That's all me," he replied, giving it a tug. "A lot of elves tend to be built well for satisfying women, but my old man was nothing to sneeze at, either."

"Where are they now?"

She, of course, had to ask that question. Sylvester looked away, and thought back to the years that had gone by, when he had lived out in the plains with his mother and father. Up until the day the soldiers had come in the name of God to purge the land of their kind. His mother had left her people to build a life with his father, forsaking everything to be with the man she loved and the child they'd made. None of that had mattered to the general in charge, though. They were all evil monsters for having lived and conceived together. The general that'd lead the army up to their door had offered to spare his father if he would murder his wife and child. His dad had spit in the man's face, then baracaded the door.

Sylvester forced himself to think of something else, anything but his former life. The whore he'd paid for was lightly running her hands over his back, trying to comfort him. It was clear to her that she'd brought up painful memories that were better off buried. He appreciated the gesture, but shook her away nonetheless, and climbed out of bed to gather his clothes. As he did, Sylvester's ears picked up something outside. She had taken him up to the top floor, no doubt to keep them from being seen by other guests. Sylvester hadn't minded the privacy, but he wondered now how anyone could be listening in on them from outside while they were four stories up.

His eyes spotted several shingles as they were knocked off the roof. Reaching for his bayonet rifle, Sylvester motioned for the whore to stay out of his way, which she readily complied. Still naked as the day he was born, he took aim and waited. At first, nothing outside made a sound. He could hear the sound of other people in the rooms below them, most of them enjoying the pleasure of one another's company, and one arguing over what sounded like payment. Nothing came from outside, though.

Sylvester didn't move. He could practically feel the wind that kicked up outside on his skin. At that same moment, someone just above the window let out a panicked yelp. More shingles fell, along with what looked like part of a rain gutter. A small shadow came sailing towards the glass as he cocked his rifle, ready to fire. Sylvester's eyes were sharper than any man's, however, and as the figure broke through the glass and rolled to a stop at the foot of the bed, he recognized who it was. That did nothing to quell his desire to shoot, though.

Wu Kong sat spread-eagled just a few feet away, looking for all the world like a petulent child. He was short, even for someone of fourteen summers, though Sylvester had always atributed it to his bloodline. The kid glared up at him, keeping an extra-close eye on the gun he still had at the ready, and frowned.

"I thought you said I wouldn't have to wait long," Wu pouted, getting to his feet. "We were supposed to meet out back behind the bank an hour ago. I already got the explosives wired and everything. You said we could get started as soon as it got dark, and then..."

Sylvester closed his eyes and ground his teeth together. "Be quiet!" he ordered, hovering his finger just above the trigger. "We have company."

"Who?" Wu wondered, looking around the room. "Oh... her?"

"Yes," he said, and with great reluctance, lowered the gun. "Her. How did you know where to find me, anyway?"

For a moment, Wu acted as though he couldn't take his eyes off her. After a moment, he shrugged and began pacing the room like an inquisitive child. "Not hard, really. The saloon wouldn't let me through the doors, so I figured you had even less of a chance at getting a drink there, so the only other place left was the whorehouse."

"Getting drunk or getting laid," the whore commented, smiling. "It says a lot how well this boy knows you. You should've brought him alone." The whore leaned up against the dresser next to the bed and folded her hands behind her back. At the same time, she leaned in forward a little to give them both a better view of her breasts. "It's not right for a young man to be wandering around on rooftops, spying on people. What were you doing up there, anyway?"

Sylvester felt himself growing hard again. Wu, on the other hand, just shrugged again. "If they wouldn't let me in the saloon, what chance did I have of getting in here?"

"You'd be surprised," she answered, charmed by his innocence. "We've had younger than you stroll in here, and walk out just a little bit taller. Not many, but a few, and Ms. Mona never turns anybody away so long as they're paying customers."

"Which he isn't," Sylvester stated at once. "So get out, before I regret putting the rifle down. I still have some unfinished business with this lady."

"You could always let him have the rest of your hour. It's not as though we'd get much done in fifteen minutes. That one looks brand-new to me, though. Plenty of time for him to find out what it's all about."

"It'd be a waste of spending cash." Sylvester threw his clothes on in a rush, saving his hat for last. "Thank you for your time, miss. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention anything this young waste of space might have rambled out after crashing through the window like that. I'll be sure to pay your boss downstairs for the damage on my way out."

"I'd appreciate that. And don't you worry none. I've heard more than my fair share of secrets in this place. If something were to happen at some point tonight, you can bet no one heard it from me. Besides," she added, knowingly. "None of my money is kept in the bank."

Wu, who was being led out of the room courtesy of Sylvester's hand on his throat, stopped short. "How'd she know..."

Sylvester flexed his hand, cutting off Wu's air momentarily. "She doesn't, and neither do we. Say goodbye to the nice lady, dumb-nut. Just because she does this for a living, that's no reason not to act gentlemanly around her."

"Words to live by," she called out behind him.

Sylvester had Wu out the door when he heard the unmistakable sound of a hammer being pulled down. He tried to move out of the way, but being caught in the door frame made that somewhat tricky. Wu heard the noise as well, and grabbed Sylvester by the arm. Performing a rather impressive acrobatic spin, the young Chinese boy flipped through the air while, at the same time, kicking Sylvester hard enough in the chest to knock him back into the room.

The gun in the whore's hand went off just in time to sent the hat atop his head flying, but otherwise didn't so much as part his hair. Wu swung back into the room by way of the door frame with his steel bo staff at the ready. A few backflips and one quick spin of it had the whore leaned back against the bed, disarmed and flustered.

"I thought she was acting mighty funny," he crowed, proudly. "What should we do with her, Boss?"

Wu glanced behind him to find Sylvester still on his back, looking up towards him with murderous intent. Sylvester got to his feet, dusted himself off, and answered Wu's question by smacking him across the back of the head with his hat.

"Ow! I just saved your life."

"Big accomplishment," he retorted. "Do something right for once and keep her there why I shut the door."

"Why did you try and kill Sylvester Lelvenshire?" Wu demanded, shoving his staff against her nose, roughly. "Talk, or you'll need a hell of a lot more rouge to cover up what I'll do to that skinny face of yours!"

Sylvester smacked him across the head with his hat again as he came back. "I'll handle this," he told Wu. "Go stand guard at the door and make sure nobody comes this way."

"Right. Right."

"Why did you try to kill me?" he demanded, after Wu had walked off. "It's not like you needed to rob me, and this place does too much business to be the sort that rips off their customers blind."

"Maybe you were just bad in bed?" Wu offered.

Sylvester pointed his rifle without taking his eyes off the whore. "Sorry," Wu replied quickly. "Shutting up, now."

"I'll ask again. Why did you try and kill me, and make this at least sound believable. I really don't want to shoot you, but if it comes down to it, I doubt I would lose a whole lotta sleep. And I'd take my money back, too."

That, interestingly enough, seemed to get her attention. "I was paid to do it," she blurted out. "Someone from the church made me. They said all I had to do was make sure you didn't get walk out of here alive, and someone would take me back."

"Take you back?"

"I was a nun for the Church a few years ago, studying to become a member of the Protestant Major"

Sylvester blinked. "This, I admit, will keep me awake if I don't find out. How does a nun go from servicing the Christian god to being a prostitute?"

"Tell her to explain it more quietly," Wu cautioned, speaking louder than necessary. "Someone just walked into a room down the hall."

Sylvester glared yet again his way. "Never mind," Wu added a second later. "I can hear them fucking now."

The whore took a deep breath, then went on. "A member of the high clergy seduced me when I was ninteen. When the council found out about us, I was blamed for it, and they threw me out. Eventually, I came here because there was nowhere else for me to go."

"Sounds like them," he muttered.

"Yesterday, someone came by around noon asking for me. They'd been sent from my old covenant with a message and a gun for me to carry out my mission with. If I did they, they would accept me back with honors. I have no idea why. To be honest, I'm a little shocked you don't know."

Wu came up to stand beside Sylvester, looking confused. "We haven't robbed any of them lately. What did you do to get a whole Church pissed off at you?"

"Not sure, but it stands to reason we should get out of town tonight," Sylvester replied, thoughtfully. "I appreciate you being so honest and upfront with both of us, but the fact of the matter is, I cannot stand someone who tries to shoot me in the back. For what it's worth, I might lose a little sleep tonight..."

Lowering the rifle down to where the barrel rested between her eyes, he calmly squeezed the trigger and fired. "...but I doubt it."

"You killed her," Wu exclaimed, as blood from the hole in her lifeless body began forming a stain on the bedcover beneath her. "You really killed her!"

"Master of observation, you are," he retorted. "I suggest we get out of here and over to the bank post-haste. We're gonna need money if we have any hope of putting some distance between us and this town before sunrise. Now, move it!"

"Oh, right!" Wu started to move, then paused. "Aren't you going to ask for your money back?"

"Now!"

The crash they made from charging out through the window was loud enough to be heard from a mile away. Sylvester gripped his rifle tightly as the realization that they'd jumped out from the fourth floor hit him. Wu had curled up into a tight ball and was spinning like he'd done this a million times before. Trying to turn his body, Sylvester held his rifle up next to him and prayed, as the blade extending out from underneath the barrel began to glow. Wind swept up underneath him, catching him in it's breath as his descent slowed. It was enough to make his landing in the watering trough a little more than wet and embarassing. Sylvester climbed out, dripping wet from head to toe, just as Wu landed on his feet next to him in a spectacular display of acrobatics.

"How did you do that?" Sylvester wondered, looking up.

"Do what?" the kid asked, then noticed the hat still floating in the ostrich trough. "Here, you dropped this."

Sylvester snatched the hat out of Wu's hands, angrily, and shoved it onto his head. A scowl formed as water rained down on top of him from underneath the brim, soaking him further. Wu smiled sheepishly as Sylvester yanked it off to smack him with it.

"Get on the ostrich," he ordered. "We're leaving now."

Whores and customers alike were gathering outside the burlesque as they rode off atop the bird together. Wu kept his hands on the reins as Sylvester faced precariously in the opposite direction, making sure no one was following them. When the coast was clear, he righted himself and took over.

"Where are we going now?" Wu asked, when the bird veered left sharply.

"To the bank," the half-elf replied, gripping the saddle with his legs. "We still have a job to do. They'll be looking for us anyway now, for charges of murder. Might as well add bank robbery to the list, since we'll be needing the money anyway if we ever want a hope of reaching Canada."

"Do you really think they'd charge us?" Wu wondered. "I mean, I know she was unarmed, but the lady did try to kill us. She nearly shot you in the back, and would've probably taken me out to get rid of the only witness. When you think about it, it was self-defense... kinda."

Sylvester yanked on the reins, bringing the ostrich to a stop next to the mouth of the alley behind the bank. Getting down, he passed the reins on to Wu Kong and stared up at him. "You're a chink, and I'm half-elf. The whorehouse at least pays taxes to the city. Which do you think the police would rather believe?"

Wu nodded. "Good point. I'd better move the bird so she doesn't get rattled. When those bombs go off, it's going to make quiet a noise."

"Wait. How much explosives did you use this time?" Wu didn't meet Sylvester's eyes as he hopped off the ostrich and tethered her to a nearby post. "This isn't going to be like last time, right? We only need to make a small hole, not bring half the building down on our heads."

"It won't be like last time," Wu snapped back, angrily. "That was an accident, and besides, it was really all your fault. I had warned you about mixing those powders together without tasting them first. The combination has to be precise, but you were in a hurry."

"We're always in a hurry," Sylvester bit back. "Because the law is always after us, because you've always done something wrong."

"I'm not the one who just shot a whore and then forced us both to take a dive out of the fourth story of a house of ill-repute! If everything is always my fault, why don't you do everything yourself?" Wu untied the ostrich again and hopped back on top of her. "See how easy it is without me around. I quit."

"Were are you going?" Sylvester demanded as Wu began riding off. "Get back here, Wu Kong. I mean it!"

Wu kept right on riding. Gritting his teeth together, Sylvester pulled out his rifle again and took aim. Firing, the bullet whizzed past Wu's left ear, just missing it by a hair's breath. The ostrich, rattled by the noise, bucked him off her back and made a run for it down the darkly-lit street. Wu raised up slightly out of the dirt, his bo gripped hard in his right hand, and prepared to attack as Sylvester strode purposefully towards him with his rifle still aimed. The two stopped a foot or so distance from each other, each one's eyes burning with fury.

"I can shoot the fleas from the backside of a dog at a hundred feet in the dead of night, kid," Sylvester breathed. "Right now, my gun is aimed directly between your eyes. Make so much a twitch a me with that little playstick of yours, and I'll put a hole through the back of your head. Then, the money'll be mine. I swear I will leave your corpse here in the middle of the street and ride off with a fortune. Think about it for a second."

"Think on this," Wu responded, cockily. "I can swat bullets away like flies with this thing. You've seen me do it before. In the time it would take for you to pull down on that trigger, I will have already blocked the shot. And sooner or later, you'll have run out of ammo. What will you do then?"

Their eyes met. Slowly, as if in a trance, Sylvester lowered his rifle. Wu did the same with his bo. Reaching for him, Sylvester bridged the gap between their bodies in a few steps and locked his arms around Wu. He could hear the boy's muffled sobs as he cried into Sylvester's chest. Stroking his hair, Sylvester looked around for a place out of the street. Dragging Wu back down the alley, he began placing quiet kisses across Wu's scalp as he lead them into the shadows of a different alley. Wu clutched at him the whole time, trying to grab at Sylvester's crotch, but he was facing the wrong way, which made the angle awkward. Sylvester fixed that problem by whipping Wu around and shoving him roughly up against the side of the building.

"What if someone sees us?" Wu whispered, anxiously.

Sylvester answered by crushing Wu's lips against his own. Frantically, the two fumbled clumsily with their clothes, shedding them while at the same time pawing at one another's bodies in the darkness. Sylvester, who's eyes saw much better in the dark, got the fly on his breeches opened first, then helped Wu with his by swatting the boy's hands away and undoing it. Grabbing him by the hips, Sylvester raised him up until their parts pressed into each other. Wu wrapped his legs around Sylvester's waist, which put them nearly at face level.

"You stupid little monkey," Sylvester swore, in-between kisses. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Fuck me!" Wu answered impatiently, humping away at Sylvester's crotch. "The whole time I was watching you with her, I wanted it to be me. If you want something to screw, you can always come to me instead of paying for it."

"I hadn't been with a woman in a while," he replied, probing around with a finger for Wu's hole. "Sue me."

Wu moaned as Sylvester found what he'd been looking for. He then gasped as he felt the tip of his partner's insanely thick cock push at there impatiently. Wu tried to relax and let his half-elf lover do his work. Just as the shaft began working it's way into him, light spilled over them from the mouth of the alley. Wu looked towards it, shielding his eyes, and saw a lantern being lowered. It was carried, he realized, by a deputy sheriff, who took one look at them both and swallowed.

"Sirs," the man said, pulling out his gun. "In the name of decency, cover yourselfs. I'm placing you both under arrest for sodomy, a crime for which by the law of our Lord and Savior, is death."