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Asking for Directions {darkangel76 & Alan23}

There had, until now, been a slight, subtle tension emanating from Virgie-Sue towards Miss Hammond. The backwoods girl whatever her shortcomings in the way of formal education, was no fool. Despite Miss Hammond's evasion of the question (or, perhaps, because of it) as to her feelings for Mr Charles McAuley, Virgie-Sue suspected that thing that all women dread. A possible rival for the affections of her chosen one. And while there was no chance that this skinny, flat-chested, neurotic little weakling could mount any serious challenge - yet, she had known Charles far longer than had Virgie-Sue, and there appeared to be some rapport between them that might complicate things. The way Miss Hammond turned as red as a beetroot whenever Charles' name was mentioned, (and, for that matter, failed to do so when exposed to the name "Cletus Pandy,") the way she was plucking at her clothes (not that Virgie-Sue wasn't as well, but she was, she felt, entitled,) the way she'd been so eager for this meeting.

However, Charles' words had served to totally restore her sense of well-being. Had he not praised her, and in front of the girl she had formerly suspected of being her rival. Surely, having been confronted with both girls, and overtly praised the one in the hearing of the other, both girls could take the situation as decided. A man who was undecided would hardly do that. Not, of course, that she had understood the half of what Charles had been chattering on about, with all these strange names and obscure stories that no decent person could ever have heard of, and it was a bit embarrassing that Charles and Miss Hammond seemed totally familiar with them, while she wasn't, but then, she'd have liked to have seen Miss Hammond bring down a running jackrabbit with a single shot through the eye, or mend a broken harness, or cook a decent squirrel and rutabaga flan, these three attributes being in Virgie-Sue's mind the triple essences of desirable femininity.

"An', anyways, maih booby-balls are taine tahms er more tha size'n hers," she mentally added to her list of advantages, further reinforcing her reassuring conclusion that she had been worrying about nothing.

So, now, Virgie-Sue was faced with a somewhat different emotion, almost as strong as her previous jealousy, and yet, it must be said, one much more to her credit. Seeing that poor Miss Hammond obviously did have some kind of affection for Charles, albeit one obviously not only unrequited, but in fact hopeless, a wave of sympathy washed into her heart, driving out the remaining driftwood of her insecurity.

"Imag'n, pohr lil thain," she thought. "A-breakin' o' her heart ovah a main sheah cairn' a-haive. A-havin' ter coam-pait with'n a gal soah merch her soo-pee-reah in airl thains, airn -facin' theah humilgration o'havin' ait a-shovelled ain haihr purty lil face. Wahl, if'n theah see-too-washun waihr t'other way about, aih'd beah stone mortified, thart aih would."

Tenderly, she moved across to Miss Hammond, and draped her thin but strong arm around her. "Doah'n' you-a be a-frettin', yuah swait lil thairn," she said, softly. "Waihl, aih'm here to be a-tellin' yer, thirt Clete Pandy, he's a fairn mairn, he's kairnd, airn a sho'-rire good proa-vidah, an' most near as hairnsom as mah Charles, an' he cairn whisle most anaih toon yaih care'n ter naihm, airn aih jes' a-knowin heah a-lovin' youah jes' lairk that Eek-e-ruse was a-lovin' o' thairt Derdy-lass gal wot mah Charles soah elly-quint-leah was a-speakin' aorv."

For some reason, this hopeful statement did not seem to produce the ebullience in Miss Hammond;s spirits that Virgie-Sue had intended. If anything, it seemed to increase her melancholy.

"Poah lil gal," she thought, sympathetically. "Aih guess iaht's thairt coar-sit strap a-hangin' doahn lairk thairt, mes' be kairnd o' embah-rissin', in front of a well-bred mairn, an' all."

She reached across and, feeling both virtuous and supportive in her action, hitched up the strap in question.

"Theah ya go, honey," she smiled. "Cairn' be a-havin' yer innah-ward-er-oahb on shoah in front o' a mairn, now, cairn yah? If'n weah gonna be sistahs, aih guess weah gotta be a-lookin' aftah earch the othah, ken?"
 
The tension in the room was thick and Andie was certain that the constriction she felt from both it and the sudden glare from her 'new best friend'—as if she could even call this backwoods girl such a thing, the mere thought!—was far worse than that of the corset she wore. She could feel it strangling her with every breath she took, hindering the movement of her ribs as her lungs tried to swell with precious air. Her ears then strained as she listened and tried to decipher every word muttered. And oh it was utter havoc on her ears, like chaos that could never find resolution. Glancing over at the girl, her dark eyes finding hers for a moment, she could sense easily enough that this girl felt threatened by her presence.

Andie felt a tiny bit of triumph at the fact that she was able to make this girl feel anything of the sort given the dire situation she was currently in. Then again, she was the president's daughter, the envy of most. Shouldn't she be envied even by those who lived under rocks and logs? She was sure that she should and for the first time since being captured by these unintelligible people, she wondered if perhaps there was hope for them yet. Little hope, but hope nonetheless. But the more the girl spoke, she suddenly felt her confidence wane. She began to ponder the notion of whether Charles was aware of her feelings and affections. If this girl noticed, surely he must as well!

Oh the mortification of it all! To be noticed first and made so vulnerable! It was the man who needed to make such professions clear! Andie just wanted to curl up and hide, her face burning brightly. Surely, Charles had noticed, she was certain and now her chances of rejection were only made worse! And oh, the very idea that she considered rejections and futures just made her feel even more foolish. He was a criminal and had to be turned over to the Anneslandian government.

Didn't he?

Andie felt her insides twist at the thought, her mind racing at how she wanted to plead with her father that he somehow find amnesty within their country. He was the president of Amerika! He could make it so! He had to! It was within his power... wasn't it? After all, he was a Hammond, a man of power and influence. People looked up to him and her entire family. If they claimed Charles McAuley should be freed, no one would question it. And no one would question a match between someone like herself and him either... would they? If she wanted it, her father would see it done!

Wouldn't he?

Andie could feel her eyes pricking with tears as the girl clicked her tongue and pulled her corset strap back into place for her, much to her dismay. Blinking rapidly, she snapped out of her reverie and back into the now. She bit down on her lower lip and felt herself begin to panic. Charles had more than likely noticed what that girl had done so thoughtlessly and tactlessly. Oh by Providence, these people had no morals! Perhaps she was too kind in holding out a hope. Her eyes shifted to Charles for a moment and she tried to read him, to gauge his thoughts on what had just occurred... if he'd noticed.

Looking back at the girl, Andie licked at her lips and let out a tiny sigh only it sounded more like a whimper. "I... I thank you most kindly," she began, her mouth going dry as she tried to find her voice.

For a brief instant, Andie could envision Harry looking on with disgust. The very thought made her tummy queasy. How she loathed that man and hoped to never see him again! He hadn't even cared that she'd been having troubles at her 'Farewell Ball'. He hadn't even cared that she was away on this trip. In fact, she was certain that he hardly even missed her!

At that, Andie pushed Harry out of her mind, her dark eyes shifting back toward Charles. "Though if we are to look out for each other," she continued, her eyes then moving back toward the girl. "Perhaps I should teach you about how we act outside of here." She paused a moment and swallowed. "That is, if we are to look out for each other and all."

As Andie looked at the girl, she wondered if she could at least teach her that it was improper to talk about undergarments so publicly. If not... truly, all hope was lost on these people!
 
Only a fool could have failed to notice the respective situation between the two girls, and Charles "Galvie" McAuley was anything but!

He saw the tender concern (not unmixed with a smug superiority) in Virgie-Sue's eyes, and the crushed humiliation in those of Andromeda. Obviously, the two women, from such far different walks of life, had experienced a clash of cultures, a kind of competition, entirely unplanned. It was as if two armies had accidentally blundered into each other and fought a pitched battle that neither of them had planned. Without planning it, both women had paraded themselves in front of him, and demanded "chose one of us. Tell us which one is the superior."

Surely, some cosmic,pagan deity - one with a hugely developed sense of the absurd and sadistic - had brought this about. For there had only been one reply Charles could make, one decision he could make public. A decision that had left the backwoods girl exultant and triumphant, albeit magnanimous in victory, and the unfortunate aristocrat defeated, crushed and humiliated. Miss Hammond looked about to burst into tears, and Virgie-Sue only prevented by the tightness of her dress from turning somersaults in delight.

And both of them were entirely wrong.

Though he was flattered by Virgie-Sue's attentions, and not entirely erotically indifferent to her tight, yet voluptuous body, yet Galvie had never seriously considered a future with her. He had mixed with too many different types of people to be any kind of a snob, but nonetheless did place a certain premium on intelligent conversation. In the bedroom, he was sure, Virgie-Sue would make up for her lack of finesse with an enthusiasm and willingness that would make any male lick his lips in anticipation. But, outside of such (admittedly important) activities there would be little else. He craved, in his recreation, more than just the consumption of moonshine, smoking coarse tobacco and sitting by a fire watching his wife darn his coveralls. Virgie-Sue was, most definitely, kidding herself if she thought him attracted to her beyond the superficial, yet he was forced to pretend otherwise, since his (and Miss Hammond's) survival depended upon her goodwill, and the jealousy of the man he considered Virgie-Sue's rightful man.

On the other hand, he was too experienced not to have noticed Miss Andromeda Hammond's feelings. He was, on one level, as shocked as she probably was, yet there was no mistaking her attitude. The way she looked at him, and blushed beet red when he returned the gaze, her constant fussing with her attire and grooming, her crestfallen look when he praised Virgie-Sue... these things spoke of a woman with an extreme infatuation. Realistically, he owned, it was not an infatuation that could have developed under any other circumstances, nor had any future - she was, after all, one of the most powerful women in Amerika, and he a condemned assassin - yet, all things being equal, he would not have been averse to counting upon her affection.

It was, at once, both tragic and hilarious. One girl thought he had the hots for her, and he didn't. The other thought him indifferent, and he urged to hold her and comfort her. And yet, the survival and freedom of the latter condemned him to falsely affirm the feelings of the former.

He had tried hard to get across to Miss Hammond his real views, and hoped she'd picked up his coded message. But one can never be sure in such circumstances. Had he been too subtle. Or had her emotions been in too much turmoil to register egven that there had been a message to convey?

Well, he had one final chance to reassure her, and get his message across. For, as the girls, after a cheery goodbye from Virgie-Sue, turned to leave, Miss Hammond looked back, with a look that he flattered himself was one of longing. And, since she was looking at him, and Virgie-Sue wasn't, he saw his opening.

Smiling conspiratorially, he shut and opened his left eye in a gesture that no-one could mistake. An obvious, and unmistakable wink!
 
Everything felt like it was spiraling out of control, the situation worsening with each passing moment. Andie had never felt so uncertain about anything in her life, not until this ghastly trip through this horrific backwoods place! Truly the Ozarks were not meant for the civilized! She'd always been one who'd longed to see the sights, but deep down that had meant seeing other cities and being able to take part in experience the luxuries they had to offer... And now that she was more or less trapped in the middle of nowhere, her fate uncertain yet her feelings and outlook on her own future never so clear, she hadn't wished to be home so she could speak to her father. At one time, she'd trusted the man to make all the decisions when it came to her wellbeing. But now? Now, she knew what she wanted.

And it wasn't Harry Smythe. And it definitely wasn't this Cletus Pandy. Andie's lip curled in a sneer at the thought.

With her cheeks still feeling so very warm, her lungs trying their best to take in precious air, Andie's mind continued to swirl. She processed Charles' message, the looks and giggles of Virgie-Sue. It was so much to take in as her own thoughts swam amok in her head, her emotions roiling as she found herself in utter turmoil as she came to realize the reality of how she felt. It was an uncomfortable situation to learn that one admired and held affection for someone who might not return them and could possibly not hold favor with your family. But, she could talk to her father about that if they managed to get out of these aborrhent marriages these people seemed to think they owed them. If she had the charm to speak to those of Annesland and help sway them into a solid peace with Amerika, surely she could work on her father!

Couldn't she?

Andie looked over at Charles, her tiny hands gripping one of the layers of her red skirts. Her diark eyes found his and she tried terribly to read him, to see if she could figure out just what he was up to... if anything. But, oh it was so hard with that infuriating girl constantly there! With all her giggling and fussing, with all her distasteful attire and manner! Surely her Charles found it just as ridiculous as she did! Oh, how she hoped... for it was all that she had for the time being until a moment could present itself and she'd be able to learn otherwise. Until then, she'd have to rely on instinct and what she'd been able to tell of the man she'd come to admire so deeply.

Just then, Andie found herself blushing once again, her thoughts drifting as she recalled their many talks along their journey. He truly had been the only respectable man among them all, the only one to show her any concern or care. Despite his own dire situation, he'd always been there for her, doing his utmost to see that she was all right. And then... her thoughts turned to the nylon strap that had been showing not too long ago, how Virgie-Sue so tactlessly adjusted her without so much as giving her honor or wellbeing any thought. Charles wouldn't have been so indiscreet in front of so many. He had a natural sensitivity toward such plights, it had seemed. For he'd always come through each time she'd had issue along her journey so far...

At that thought, a tiny giggle passed over Andie's lips. Truly, the man was perfect. As she and Virgie-Sue turned to finally leave, her thoughts still rolling about as she hoped for the best, she turned to look at Charles just one last time. The moment her dark eyes found his... he winked! He... winked? The gesture was unmistakable and it made her heart skip a beat before it began to pound. She gasped ever so slightly before a tiny smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Not wanting to make too much of a scene, she averted her gaze and raised a hand to cover her mouth, her cheeks burning brighter than ever.

Andie looked over at Virgie-Sue who was leading the way, totally oblivious to what Charles had done, the gesture lost to her eyes as she giggled and almost skipped out of the barn. Swallowing hard, her heart still racing, she brought her other hand up to her chest. Charles had most certainly winked and he had most certainly done so for her! In that moment, the hope she'd been holding onto turned into something more. And more than ever the yearning she had that they'd get out of where they were grew for she was not going to marry this Cletus Pandy. There was no way she'd do so now. Not even if these people tried to force her.
 
Virgie-Sue was all excited chatter as they left. Still fussing with her skirts, patting at her hair, her face pink with excitement and a shyness she had never known before. "Did ya see," she asked, exultantly? "Waihl, aih gotta say, aih waren't none too sure he, y'know, felt about me the way I felt for him. Him bein' from another place, an' all. Why, I nebveah haird of this Annesland township the men all a-sayin' the captives were a makin' for, why I bet it's more'n twelve hours fast ride away. Din' even know the world had that much land in it."

She turned to look at Andie. "An' honey, whaiy you take on so shy an' all, when we were in theah, huh? Is it 'cos you afeard Clete might think you fast, with you a-visitin' anotheah man who ain't your betrothed. Whaiy, you don't need to fuss none, Clete ain' the type o' man to be jealous. Whait, the way you were a-blushin' and' a-squirmin' an' a-gigglin', anyone might ha' thought you wanted him your own self, an' surely that ain't the case, for ain't you got you a man o' your own?"

*****

Galvie tensed when the rough man approached him, his elt hung with various lethal looking weapons. Tied as he was, he wondered what resistence he might be able to put up. He felt the breath shoot out of his lungs in relief when the man snapped his chains with a pair of rusty cutters, and then pulled the notched, antique sword from his belt and cut the ropes.

"Happy days, and long suns," the man said. "The Daddy, he say yuo kin be trusted now, an' that means you is free an' clear. Aih wanna be the fairst to be a-wishin' you a grand an' happy life here at the colony, an' that you an' your betrothed make useful people to have around an' good neighbors an' all."

He shook Galvie's hand.

"So, now, you is free to go where you think good, as long as it's inside the boundaries, an' they's all marked with signs you cairn be a-missin'. Go see if ya can find a place to stop 'till you can get yourself a dwellin' fixed, an' maybe a job o' work, or something to support that wife you gonna be a-havin' soon, an' I wish yer plenty of youngies, too, y'hear. Now, git, an' drink in youh freedom, new dweller, an' the best o' the blessin's of the goddess on ye."
 
As she walked out of the barn, her dark eyes could barely focus her heart was fluttering, her tummy doing odd somersaults. Andie had to stifle the giggle that threatened to erupt, she felt so utterly light she thought she might literally float away. Gone was the barn and the entire backwoods community she'd suddenly found herself prison in. Gone was Virgie-Sue and all her incessant and unintelligible prattle. Gone... dare she say it... was even the notion of having to marry that wretched Cletus Pandy!

Charles McAuley had winked! At her! There was no mistaking the gesture nor his the slight grin she'd seen tugging at his lips when he'd done it. Andie was certain she'd noticed it. Unless... No. No. She wasn't mistaken. Not about this. Charles was hardly Harry Smythe—all proper and cryptic, not once indicating any forms of affection. If she had to guess, that Harry! Oh, how her insides churned and boiled at the mere thought of that name now! That Harry, he would probably care less that she was in the hands of these people, that some ruffian wanted to marry her and lay his hands on her at all! The more she thought on it, the more she wondered if Harry would probably be relieved! The man never showed any care or concern. After all, when had he ever winked?

When had he ever made any subtle gesture of... anything...?

Andie had to wonder just how it was she'd been so willing to go along with such a betrothal. Then again, being young, she supposed that might play a role. Might. And the match was smart. It could help her family greatly and her father was an intelligent man. It wasn't as if the thought behind such a pairing was intended to harm either she or... Harry.

Oh that Harry. The name dripped with nearly as much venom as it did for Cletus.

Andie looked over at Virgie-Sue, her dark eyes sparkling as she chattered on about Charles. She bit down on her lower lip, her hands gripping her lush red skirts as she tried her best to listen. But, oh, it was so hard. Charles had winked! At her!

"Yes, of course, I do," Andie finally answered, a tiny smile forming on her pretty lips. She reached up and tugged on a stray dark curl. "But from where I come from, ladies blush often in the presence of men." She paused a moment, her cheeks reddening a bit as she spoke. Her words were true in part, though she as much as she couldn't admit it to this girl, her cheeks were never as warm as they were in front of her Charles. "Besides, blushing makes most men, whether taken or not, feel important." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's our role to always make them feel as much no matter our stance or status." She smiled warmly at Virgie-Sue, though her insides reeled as her mind swirled.

Charles McAuley had winked! At her!
 
"Wahl, Aih own Aih nevah was a-knowin' that," Virgie-Sue giggled. "Whan Aih blush up, all the gals, they a-teasin' me an' makin' fun, an' that makes meah feel, y'know, kinda small an' shamewise, which makes me doah it some more, so they all step up theyir teasin'. Wicked, nasty things they are. Whay, I's a-wagerin' man feel powerful important aroun' you, then, 'cos youah a blushin-up even more'n I does, an ain't that a-sayin' something?"

She walked alongside Andie, chattering about inconsequential affairs to do with the colony. "An' all theah main that got taken, y'know, they all got nicknames, now. Maih Charles, they a-callin' him Coogah, a-cos when they was tied, heah were the only one wouldn't cower an' shrink, like he's scared of nothin', y'know, like one o' them mountin' lions. An' there's Fatty, an' Spotty, an' Shanks, an' - whaiy, even youah got yerself a nickname, an' that means you accepted around these parts. Thay a-callin' you "Squirmy," 'cos o' theah way you always a-fussin' at youah dress an' undy-shifts an' a-tryin' to ajust every'thin' just so. Don' take no anger to it though, it just theah fun an' all."

*****

"Hey, Outsider. I's a-wantin' a word, y'heah?"

Charles stopped and turned, as Billy-Bob Reynolds approached him, an aggressive smile on his wide features.

"Aih reckon' youah owes me, Outsider," he continued. "Youah knowin' it was me, Aih guess, a-nagged and a-fussed at the elders, toah be a-lettin' you losoe an' able to make your way heah, weeks ahead of what they planned. It was me that set youah free'n'all, youah might say."

He approached, and shoved Charles hard in the chest.

"But Aih's a-tellin' youah, it ain't any love for yer made meah do it, no sir. See, youah a-stealin' mah gal, mah sweet, lovely Virgie-Sue, an' that ain' right. So, like Aih say, you owin' me, an' this is what Aih'm cravin' fer pay. Aih knows you turned her haid, fer she nevah looked at another till she aw youah, an' that's a-makin' you a see-doo-sir, right'nuff, an' that's wicked an' the goddess don' like it no more'n half. So youah gotta give me theah right to challenge youah fer her, fair'n'square, with knives, in front o' everyone, so there cairn't be no doubt."

He smiled wickedly.

"Or, o'course, youah can back down, an' be a coward in her eyes, an' I gets her then by right. It's our law, see?"

Charles looked back at him.

"So, let me get this straight," he replied, calmly. "We fight, and the winner gets... what rights, exactly? To marry Virgie-Sue?"

"Not quite thairt," replied Billy-Bob, who, angry as he was, was an honest man. "When there's a public rout, like I's askin you for, theah winnah then gets the right to choose any woman in the colony who ain' taken, seah. Soah, I's plannin' ter trash youah, or have youah back down, it don' exercise maih care either way, so Aih gets the right to choose Virgie-Sue an' no-one can stop meah, no matter who she wants ter hitch with, if Aih -choosin' her, sheah gotta marry meah, see?"

"And if I win?" Charles asked, already knowing the answer from careful listening to the gossip of the guards over the last few days, but needing the people listening to hear him told, so there could be no doubt."

"Waih, if'n youah was ter win," Billy-Bob laughed, "Thain youah gettin' ter choose any unattached gal yer like, an' Aih reckon' that'll be maih Virgie-Sue." He grinned, and spat tobacco juice. "But thairt ain' hardly likely now, is it? So, two hours from now, central paddock suit youah? Any man here'll show youah where that's a-bein'. All yuo gottah do is front, an' then either give ovah youah rights to maih Virgie-Sue, an' youah walk away unhurt an' we friends, or you a-fightin' me. Anyone here'll loan youah a blade, too, 'cos Aih's a-knowin' they took youah's when yer got taken."

He turnd and strode away, flinging back over his shoulder.

"Two hours, now. Don' be late, y'heah?"
 
Andie smiled inwardly, her dark eyes sparkling a bit, when she saw just how easily Virgie-Sue believed her words about blushing. Granted, a fair portion of it was true when she truly thought on it—something she hadn't done prior to the moment—but, in Charles' case... it was inevitable, the reddening of her cheeks was most definitely due to her growing affection. Only the admission of that—silent as it was—caused her cheeks to redden further. Never had she thought on so many things prior to this journey to Annesland, being forced and thrust into such awkwardness that she'd had no choice but to face such things directly. To say she was outside her comfort zone would be an understatement and oh how she longed to get back into the comforts and luxuries that were familiar!

Thoughts of steaming hot baths, silk sheets and soft mattresses filled Andie's mind just then. But such thoughts only served to make her blush extend further down her neck and along the swells of her breasts, squished and pushed together by the corset she donned.

Still smiling, trying not to let it falter, Andie listened to the backwoods girl continue her prattle. The only fortunate thing was that her garbled words were becoming easier to understand the longer she remained in their custody, however she hoped that soon enough she'd be free from the community, free from the confinement of these strange ways and back out in the open of the Ozarks. Ah, such a strange thought given how much she loathed the Ozarks! Glancing over at Virgie-Sue as she continue to spew her words that were a complete abomination of the language she knew, she just nodded when appropriate. Oh, to grow up here in this horrendous place!

When Virgie-Sue started rambling off names, Andie felt her mouth go dry. She supposed the nickname 'cougar' was fitting for a man such as Charles. After all, she didn't think much differently when she first met him all those weeks ago and he was imprisoned in his 'cage'. She'd been frightened of him back then, terrified to meet a murderer, an assassin, a traitor to his nation! But he wasn't as he'd seemed... not after she'd started to speak to him. He'd more than proved his worth and not just to her, but to the cavalry, to the entire convoy! On more than one occasion he'd saved her honor and it was he who saw to it that she was well and comfortable—strange given his own dire straits and circumstance. But, he always paid her the attention and in honorable fashion and...

So unlike Harry Smythe!

Just then, the word 'squirmy' filled Andie's ears and her dark eyes came back into focus. She looked over at Virgie-Sue, her cheeks turning even redder than before. "Squirmy?" she squeaked. "Fun?" She wasn't quite sure how to take it. Fun definitely wasn't the word that came to mind. Insulted, however? And there were no words that could even begin to describe her embarrassment!

As Andie began to fret over the nickname that Virgie-Sue, Cletus Pandy and the entire backwoods community had bestowed upon her, she began to frown and scowl. Her eyes averting downward to focus on her feet, she suddenly felt something at her shoulder, a tiny... Sighing, she glanced at her arm and there, plain as day, the black nylon strap of her corset had fallen, starkly contrasted against her porcelain pale flesh. Tears pricking her eyes, she exhaled slowly and resisted that urge to 'squirm'.
 
"So, haih 's how it be," said Obidiah Clay, scratching his long beard and dislodging various nameless things. "Weah have hair a challenge." He held up his wrinkled finger. As one of the oldest members of the colony, it was his right to act as master of ceremonies whenever a challenge was decided. A right he never failed to claim. "Nowah, afore we start, weah gotta get one thing right in everyone's haid. There are some say that no-one's got the right to issue a challenge to a newcomer, an' that a newcomer got no right to accept it, but that ain't so, y'all heah? So, as soon as this heah gen'man, Mistah Charles McCAuley, known now as Cougah, soon as he's a-walkin' free outta the hut with no chains, then heah a free man, see." He paused to spit tobacco juice, and allowed his short-sighted gaze to take in the entire circle of men and women that had formed a makeshift ring around the contestants. "He's free, an' he got the right to challenge or accept challenges, same as any othah free man. An' Billy-Bob Reynolds, why, heah got the right to challenge him an' all."

He had another scratch, this time at his private parts. Watching him, Charles felt it was almost a case of cruelty to animals, judging by the various families of insect life that probably dwelt in that region.

"Seeah, how'd anyone of you likin' to be called a coward? Well, if'n anyone challenged you, you could prove 'em wrong by takin' the challenge, ain't that so? Now, how'd it be if anyone who liked it fine could call you coward, an' you had no chance to prove 'em wrong? Not likin' theah idea, Aih bet. So, this here Cougar, he's a free main, now, an' got the same right as anyone, an' he took Billy-Bob's challenge, so no-one heah got the right to call him coward, whatevah happens right soon here in this place. Y'all understandin' that?"

"OK, now Aih got ter interdoos theah con-tes-terntists. Heah, on mah laift, is Billy-Bob Reynolds. Y'all seen him fight, an' youah all a-knowin' heah a hard man. Now, the rules is, what theah challenge is all about ain't no-one's business but Billy-Bob an' Cougah, less they choose to tell yer. An' here, to my rart, Charles Cougar McCauley, a newcomer, but he's a-bein' freed but a short time ago, an' so he's a-got the right to be heah.

"Seconding Billy-Bob is Esau McEllery, an' secondin' Cougar is Jabez Angus. Now, if'n the seconds'd be right kind an' approah me."

Charles watched, as the seconds and the referee held a short private discussion. While this went on, more and more spectators joined the ring of people, craning their necks and jostling each other to get a better view. Every man in the colony seemed to be there, and most of the women and children. Someone was offering odds of fifty to one against him, and getting few takers. Charles fingered the knife lent to him by his second. It was sharp enough, though not perfectly balanced, and (who knew where he'd come by it) of Anneslandian manufacture.

"OK, it's bin decided, an' all," said Obidiah Clay at last. "After some ne-goat-ishun with both seconds, the rules have been four-moo-lated. Each man takes but one blade into the fight, an' if he uses another weapon, he loses. The fight goes on until one man cries 'nuff,' an' then it's ovah. If no-one cries off, it goes until one man cairn't stand, 'pon which t'othah is declared theah winnah. There ain't no rulin' on first blood, or droppin' a blade, or on usin' any part o' their bodies. If one on 'em wants to use his fists or boots, that theah's his right." He turned to Billy-Bob. "Youah happy with that, Billy-Bob?"

"Shure am."

"An you, Cougah?"

"You got the right to ask for a change, know ye?" whispered Jabez Angus. "If'n youah figure some other rule's gonna help youah. I fixed it so's aih thought ye'd have the best chance, though, an' I done act as second lots o'times."

"No," Charles replied. "I like it just as it is."

"Now, afore ye sets to," Obidiah went on, "Jus' remindin' everyone the stake. Anyone wins a challenge, they got the right to choose any woman in the colony who ain't attached, to be their bride. An' she gotta go with him, that there's the rules. Now, either of you gen'men wannah back out? You both getts this one chance. Billy Bob? I calculated not. Cougar? Fine then. You both wait fer my call, now."

He hobbled to the edge of the ring, where a space was cleared for him, either out of respect for his age and position or possibly, Charles thought, for reasons of hygiene!

"On mah count o' three now. One. Two... "

*****

When Dilzie McGuire came waddling up to Virgie-Sue and whispered in her ear, Virgie-Sue at first turned pink, then jumped up and down and clapped her hands with glee. She grabbed Andie by the wrists and began hustling her along a dirt track/

"You know what Dilzie jus' saird? Mah Charles, he's out an' free, an' he jus' accepted a challenge from Billy-Bob. Theah two on 'em gonna decide it with blades. Oh, ain' it jes' so excitin' an' all, ter be fought ovah laike Aih were some damsel in theah ol' stories an' they maih ker-niggarts. Come on, gal, whurraih up do, weah don' wanna miss the fun, y'hear?"
 
One moment Andie had been fretting over her fallen strap, the next she could've sworn she'd overheard the most ridiculous nonsense this side of the Amerikan border! In a single instant, every fiber of her body had gone tense and rigid as she processed what she'd was certain was Virgie-Sue telling her was that Charles was about to get into a fight so as to win her affections!

Of course, Andie knew the very idea of such a thing had to indeed be outlandish and ridiculous—no doubt, Charles had either been forced or... Biting down on her lower lip, she remembered that wink. Oh, she was so confused and rattled! Letting out an exasperated sigh, she knew she had to hold onto the fact that this had to be a part of some grander scheme, a means to an end and not anything else these backwoods people wanted her to think. Though it was all she could do not let the tears spill that had suddenly began to prick her dark eyes as Virgie-Sue grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her off to see the fight that would surely be taking place.

As Andie's feet reluctantly moved beneath her lush red skirts, she was almost afraid to see the sights she knew would be inevitable—Charles fighting some hillbilly hick man over someone of the likes of Virgie-Sue. Oh, the very idea! It was ghastly! It sent chills down her spine! Shuddering, tiny whimpers suddenly passing over her lips, she let herself be escorted to where everyone was gathered and then... there he was! Her dark eyes found him and her heart suddenly sank!

Andie's corset instantly felt too tight, too restrictive as she watched the men fight. She heard the backwoods people whispering in their nearly unintelligible garble about the rules and stakes of the fight... all of it making her heart pound harder, her breaths come faster, more labored. For a moment, she wished she could just loosen her corset just so she could make her breathing come easier! But the thought flitted quickly. Frantic, she nervously reached up toward her somewhat mussed and tousled hair, a finger managing to get twisted amongst dark curls.

As Andie continued to watch, the violent events unfolding before her very eyes, she couldn't help but glance over at the seemingly elated Virgie-Sue. How she wanted to see that smile on her face just disappear! Something! She truly found herself loathing it, even if it was... dare she admit it... jealousy that was making her think such things. With reddening cheeks, her dark eyes turned toward Charles and the other man as they fought. Her body felt warm as adrenaline washed over her, her hands fiercely tugging on her hair, her thoughts hoping for Charles to... lose!

Andie's eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she silently admitted the thought to herself. Yes, she wanted him to lose. She'd overheard the stakes of the fight and, yes! She wanted Charles to lose to this hillbilly hick man! Let him have his wretched Virgie-Sue! Let them all just leave she and her Charles alone! But, even as that thought entered her mind, she knew that even if Charles won his fight, it still didn't help her own plight... she'd still be stuck with Cletus Pandy. Swallowing hard, she wondered if she could plead her case since it didn't seem like any other option was possible. Just then, she rubbed at her arms, her face contorting as she thought of that horrid man marrying her... Shivering, she went back to watching the fight, hoping that Charles would lose.
 
Charles blinked, trying to clear his head of the mixture of blood and sweat that running down into it from the cut on his forehead. He had suffered a number of such wounds during the fight. Having been confined to a jail cell for so many months, followed by being imprisoned in what amounted to a wheeled cage, and then tied up, he was far from what he would have regarded as his peak physical condition. There was a long slash on his right arm, where he had only been able to jump back in time to avoid the tendon being severed, but not enough to avoid contact altogether, and this was stinging badly. And another on the right hand, the most serious of all, for it worked against his ability to hold his knife as securely as he might have liked.

Billy-Bob Reynolds was strong, and fast, and fit. And angry and desperate besides, fighting as he was for his future happiness and reputation. And without the handicap of a recent lifestyle that had left him drained and stiffly-muscled. Now, almost backed against the edge of the circle of spectators, where his recent retreat had carried him, Charles could be in no doubt.

He was losing.

The news was not all bad. Given that the fight had already gone for over ten minutes, he was overhearing certain murmurs of respect from the spectators. Few men of the colony would have stood up to Billy-Bob for this long, never mind scoring a few strikes of their own - for the large man now sported a wicked-looking gash on his left cheek, that he'd bear to the end of his days, and a red gash across the back of his knuckles, from a desperate counter-stroke of Charles', that had probably saved his life.

The irony was devastating enough to make him smile. This fight had achieved him the very thing that most would have coveted, and yet which was, according to his own plans, entirely irrelevant. The respect of the colony. Even if he cried off now, gave up the fight, he'd be known ever after as "the man who stood up to Billy-Bob for over ten minutes."

He circled away, jumping back quickly, as Billy-Bob came on in a series of bright flashes of steel. The backwoodsman had made all the running so far, and had this been a boxing match, where points are given for aggression, Charles would have been so far behind on points his cause would have been lost. But the rules were quite clear. As long as he was still able to stand, and had not submitted, he was still in the game, however tenuously. But he wondered, as he dodged another thrust, just how long he might keep it up. Weakened as he was, he could not escape forever. Already, his movements had slowed perceptibly compared to the start of the fight. His legs and arms felt like lead, and he could hardly see from one eye, which stung agonizingly from the fluids streaming into it from his forehead. His breath was coming in hitches, and he was so dehydrated his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. This fight could go only one way. Unless the single chance came...

And then, just as he felt ready to collapse, throw away the blade, cry "I give up," that chance finally did come.

Billy-Bob was not troubling to be cautious, now. He was angry, at being held back for so long, when most opponents would long since have been vanquished. This strange outsider had a cowardly but effective habit of dodging back, instead of coming to scratch and fighting like a man. Billy-Bob could have cut him to ribbons, if only he'd have stood still enough to let him. But backing away can't hurt another man, and Billy-Bob knew he was safe, could step up his aggression, that surely, eventually, the outsider would be too slow.

He smiled as he moved forward, throwing all his weight on his forward, right leg, extending his arm to its fullest length as he swing his blade in a wicked backhanded arc, almost feeling the bite of it in the outsider's face before it connected. But this connection was merely empty air. The outsider was down, on his ass, but in the second it took Billy-Bob to realize this, and draw back his booted foot for a kick that would surely have unshipped his opponent's jaw, the sudden knowledge struck him.

The outsider hadn't slipped. He'd timed it, perfectly, knowing exactly what he was doing. He'd thrown himself backwards, slapped his left hand on the ground to give himself the greatest possible thrust, and kicked out, swinging his leg, taking Billy-Bob's own legs from under him.

Billy-Bob had been downed before in fight, and always come back to win. After all, he still held the blade, and any opponent had to take that into account. Only someone bent on suicide would move in, and go for the kill now.

Or someone who trusted their reflexes enough to bank everything on one single fast slash, in the brief window it took Billy-Bob to rock himself upwards from his sitting position. Charles' knife flashed, so fast the sunlight glanced off it like a bolt of lightning, leaving himself wide open to defeat if it missed. The move of a man in desperate straights, throwing the die one last time.

Except that Charles McCAuley, veteran of many such fights, trusted his reflexes enough to know that the risk was minimal. Tired as he was, ready to drop, it was the best move he could have made. The knife caught Billy-Bob's blade-hand, which was held out before him to ward off an attack, while he recovered his feet, Billy-Bob's fingers convulsively opened, the blade dropped. And, moving so fast it might have been a copperhead, the outsider's foot kicked the blade into the crowd.

Billy-Bob tensed himself to resist, to grab his opponent's arm, defend himself. But the attack did not come from the outsider's knife-hand. Instead, his left fist shot out, taking Billy-Bob on the jaw he had been too busy to defend, all his resources being massed to face an attack from another direction. Pain shot through him, and he landed on his back.

Many men would have stayed down at this point, unconscious. Billy-Bob Reynolds was made of sterner, tougher stuff. He managed to get to his feet, wobbly, breathing heavily, and still managing to ignore the agony. But it was to the realization that the point of the outsider's blade was now held right at his throat.

"It takes only one pound of pressure to break skin," whispered Charles, so quietly that no-one except Billy-Bob could possibly have heard. "Will I kill you, or will you yield."

And, his heart sinking to ground level, tears that had nothing to do with pain springing to his eyes, Billy-Bob Reynolds held out both hands, baring his massive chest, in the universal token of surrender. So this was it. Defeat. The loss of Virgie-Sue. The end of all he held dear. Ignored, as the various members of the colony clustered around Charles McCAuley, congratulating him, Billy-Bob sank back down onto his knees, fighting back the tears that marked the end of all the happiness he had ever known. Even his own second would not speak to him, Esau McEllery contenting himself with simply resting an arm on the defeated one's shoulder. In the distance came the sound of Obidiah Clay announcing that Cougah, known to some as Charles McCauley, was the undisputed winner under the rules, Billy-Bob having made the sign that he yielded, and that under the time-honored tradition Charles might now claim his right to wed any woman not thus far husbanded, no matter who she might be. Of Charles asking for a point to be clarified, that it might be any woman in the colony, and of Virgie-Sue interrupting to scream that of course it was so, but that surely everyone knew who that gal was...

And then Billy-Bob heard what were perhaps the most shocking, most surprising, and perhaps even the happiest words he had ever heard.

"Very well, then," the outsider said, softly, yet having no trouble being heard, for the crowd had hushed.

"I seek the right to take as my bride a woman thus far unwed." A slight pause. "The outsider female known as Squirmy, known to some as Andromeda Hammond."

There was a scream of outrage, from Cletus Pandy, that was matched only by the higher wail of Virgie-Sue. But, while Billy-Bob's mouth was still open in shock, not even having had a chance to cogitate upon his sudden good fortune, he was smothered in Virgie-Sue's embrace. For the girl was nothing if not adaptable.

"Oh, Bil'-Bawb, maih herney, maih deah one, did he hurt ya? Are you sicknin', mah brave warr-yer? Caim urn, herny, maoh lerv, maih only one, lairt's be a-gettin' you to lie down, an' all, an' you cease worryin', y'hearh, fer yer Virgie-Sue's haihr now."
 
Nothing was worse than watching someone fight another and having to hope for their loss. But, given the stakes of the fight—or so the whispers went—that was exactly what Andie was hoping as she watched her Charles fighting this hillbilly hick man. It was beyond infuriating, so very frustrating, but how could she hope for anything else when all the whispers she'd heard were that clear? All the humming noise was that this fight was over that wretched Virgie-Sue! Honestly! How could such a person who could barely string a sentence together be the center of such a thing? How could she be the center of, well, anything? Truly, she wished to know! Her mind could barely comprehend it, much like it could barely comprehend the words that girl tried to utter any time she dared open her mouth.

Andie eyed the girl every few moments, her insides twisting as her heart pounded harder and harder. This was by far the worst predicament ever! She didn't like seeing her Charles fighting nor did she like that she wished his demise. But what could be done? What could she done? Her dark eyes pricked with tears as she stood there, feeling helpless as her black nylon strap hung limply about her arm. She could feel it rubbing against her soft, pale flesh, though she refused to move or wriggle or do any such thing to try and discreetly push it back into place. Oh, she wouldn't give these horrendous people the satisfaction! After hearing their abhorrent nickname for her? Never! Never!

With tears in her eyes, Andie sucked in a sharp breath and choked on a sob. More than anything, she wished to hide. She felt guilty for wanting her Charles to lose. But the very idea of him winning for Virgie-Sue...? It was just more than she could bear. And hearing the giggles and seeing the smile as the fight wore on only added to her further distress. After a time, she could no longer watch, her eyes averting to fix themselves upon the hard ground as the roars of the crowd rose, growing in intensity. She had half a mind to finally look, but she couldn't dare. She wouldn't. She was too afraid of the outcome for either way she'd be at a loss.

If Charles won... he had Virgie-Sue forever, though both of them would be safe from harm from these people and more than likely have earned their respect, able to roam free. If Charles lost... he'd lose Virgie-Sue to that hillbilly hick man, still have earned the respect of these backwoods people, still earning them the right to roam free and be safe... and with either outcome, she'd still be stuck with Cletus Pandy. Andie reached a hand up brushed one of the tears off her cheeks and bit down on her lower, quivering lip.

Just then, Andie heard shouts, her head turning and looking up. She hadn't wanted to look, had promised herself she wouldn't after a time as the fight had progressed. But the shout had startled her. When her dark eyes fixed upon the spectacle that had the entire community buzzing with energy, she felt her heart sink, her mouth go dry. Oh, she wanted to die in that moment. Her Charles loomed over that hillbilly hick man—so unlike Harry—like the man she knew he was, the man she admired and had grown affections for. He was smiling, seemingly beaming. In that moment, she remembered that wink he'd given her... had it been a trick? A means to give her false hope or merely to flatter? Or...

Oh, Andie hardly knew any longer. All that she did know had been left behind in Chicago, though she didn't want to admit that. Swallowing hard, her eyes welling as she watched the events slowly unfolding right there before her, she gripped her red skirts and held her breath... When Charles finally spoke, laying down his terms, she could scarcely believe her ears! Had... had she heard him correctly? In that moment, she heard those around her whispering, mumbling unintelligible words as she stood there, motionless, speechless, heart pounding...

Charles had chosen... her? Andie hadn't realized he could do that, that he could choose another for his bride. Virgie-Sue had told her that the fight was over her and she'd let her thoughts wander the moment that notion had entered her mind. Suddenly, she felt remorse and guilt over wishing for his loss, but it was quickly replaced with elation at his win. Her lips turned upward into a tiny smile as the softest of nervous giggles escaped her causing her to raise her hand and cover her mouth. Her giggles grew slightly louder as things slowly began to settle upon her and she raised her other hand to cover her mouth, her eyes damp with tears, the black strap still showing against the pale skin of her arm.

Slowly, Andie walked toward Charles, the others about her milling and mingling as they chattered to each other about the events that had just transpired. Virgie-Sue had already run off to coddle the loser of the fight. When she approached Charles, she let her hands drop in languid movements, her slender fingers going to grip at the red skirts she donned.

"I..." Andie stammered as she looked up at Charles. "Congratulations." She smiled and curtsied, her cheeks scarlet as a heated blush swept over her skin. From her lowered position, she looked up at him and began to rise. "You fought well, sir," she said, her thoughts wandering... Charles had fought for her... so unlike Harry.
 
If, before the entourage had left Chicago, someone had told Charles that Miss Andie Hamilton would soon be cuttseying to him, he would have laughed them to scorn. He doubted she would show such defrence to any Anneslander, except perhaps a diplomat, or a high ranking politician. Yet, here it was, happening beyond doubt.

And, furthermore, here he was, surrounded by people (not, admittedly, the cream of society, yet people for all that) witnessing such a thing. And, furthermore, saying highly complimentary things to them, as if they were an engaged couple, as if they were betrothed. Well, that was fair enough, he giessed, for as far as they knew, this was the case indeed. He and Miss Hamilton, of course, knew better. Surely she would work out this was simply part of his plan to free them. Well, she was playing up to it very well, he decided. The way she had virtually submitted to him, the downcast face, the shyness. SHit, the girl was even blushing... how did she fake that? Or, perhaps, it was caused simply by her embarrassment at being the centre of attention, or even... he grinned, noticing the strap of her corset hanging down. Knowing hows shy she was... and how she resented her nickname, within the colony, of "Squirmy"... perhaps this dishabille was enough to explain her obvious mortification.

While he had not been in captivity nearly long enough to possess a detailed understanding of the local mores, he knew, in sketchy detail, what was expected of him right now. The first part of the ritual was the approach of Cletus Pandy, who respectfully asked his permission to "Take leave of my former betrothed." Upon receiving Charles' agreement, Pandy took Miss Hamilton's hand, shook it, and wished her all the very best in her life with her soon to be husband. He then, likewise, shook Charles' hand and offered formal congratulations. The dignity with which he did this brought home to Charles just how decitful he was being - why, for all he knew, Miss Hamilton might have actually wanted to marry the hillbilly!

Well, there was an easy way to find out. For the next part of the time-honored ritual was now due.

"Will you kindly do me the honor, Miss Squirmy of The Colony, to walk with me a spell," he asked, offering her his hand.

And then, so softly that only she could hear it, and the spectators might have thought he were whispering sweet nothings...

"I'm sorry. I know it's horrible for you, to have to pretend to be betrothed to someone like me. But try and hide how revolted you must be by the idea, because I can't get us out of this place any other way. Soon, they're going to insist we go off together, and, you know, get to know each other better. If you choose to come with me, I promise, I'll take no advantage. I'll do nothing you can't tell your fiancee - Harry, isn't it - about when you get home. But if we're going, we'll have to go now, before they get suspicious. We'll go somewhere private, and we can make our plans. And try to stay nice friends with that Virgie-Sue girl - we may well need her help, and I don;t think she's exactly well-disposed towards me right at this time. I think you can guess why."
 
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