David Robbins - Madman Run

“I know, but you’re missing the point. We would have been in the wrong killing him without justification. Remember the course we took on the moral and ethical aspect of killing? A Warrior must never resort to violence unless there is no other alternative. We weren’t in imminent danger. Sure, we suspect Morlock lied through his teeth and deliberately set the plane after us, but we can’t prove it. And since we did enter their castle without permission, morally and ethically we were in the wrong.”

“Only you could turn killin’ a cow chip into a philosophy lesson.”

“Do you see my point or not?”

“Yep,” Hickok admitted begrudgingly. “You’re right. But I don’t like it none.” He scratched his chin and cocked his head. “Even if we didn’t have an excuse to blow Morlock away, we had every right to go into those lower levels and find out what was down there. It sounded like someone was sufferin’ bad.”

“It did,” Blade agreed. “But if we’d tried to barge on down there, we would have played into Morlock’s hand.”

“How do you figure? That jumbo monkey couldn’t have stopped us.”

“Maybe. But Morlock certainly could have.”

“Morlock?”

“Yeah, dummy. Think again. How did Morlock and Elphinstone get into the room where we were talking with Endora?”

“Beats me. I know they didn’t come in the door because I was right there.”

“Exactly. The only way they could have entered was through a secret passage. I was right. The castle must be honeycombed with hidden corridors enabling them to go anywhere and spy on anyone. And do you think for a minute that Morlock wasn’t watching us leave? The moment we tore into Elphinstone, Morlock would have blasted us.”

“Hmmmmm. I never thought of that.”

“A warrior must keep sharp at all times, Nathan.”

“Don’t start with another lesson,” Hickok stated defensively. “So I made a little mistake. No harm done.”

“There could have been,” Blade said.

“Okay. What’s the plan?”

“We’ll stay over another night.”

“That’s it?”

“Morlock will undoubtedly spy on us. When he learns we’re not leaving, he might make a move against us.”

“Then we nail the sucker?”

“Then we nail him, if need be.”

Geronimo craned his neck to gaze at the battlement. “You know, I feel sorry for the woman. Can you imagine what it must be like for her to be married to Morlock?”

“There’s another mystery,” Blade said. “How old would you guess Endora to be?”

“I don’t know. Twenty-five, maybe,” Geronimo answered.

“Me, too. And how old do you think Morlock is?”

“Fifty. Fifty-five.”

“Or older. Doesn’t it strike you as strange that she would marry someone so much older?”

“Not really. Couples at the Home sometimes have a five or ten year age difference between husband and wife,” Geronimo said.

“Yeah, but a thirty year difference?”

Geronimo shrugged. “Maybe there wasn’t anyone else she could marry.

They said they haven’t had any contact with the outside world.”

Blade nodded again. “Do you realize what that means?”

Sudden insight caused Geronimo to gape in astonishment. “Wow. I never thought of that.”

“Thought of what?” Hickok asked.

“There can only be one explanation,” Blade went on.

“Realize what?” Hickok inquired impatiently, looking from one to the other.

“This puts their relationship in a whole new perspective,” Geronimo said.

“What the blazes are you two talkin’ about?” Hickok snapped. “Would one of you kindly explain it to me?”

“Later,” Blade said, staring off in the direction of their camp. “Let’s go eat lunch and make our plans for tonight. I want to have everything ready before dark.”

Geronimo and Hickok followed, the gunfighter nudging the Blackfoot.

“Would you mind explaining what in the world is going on?”

“We’re going to eat lunch.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Geronimo chuckled. “Sorry. There might be a skeleton in their closet.”

“Did they bump somebody off?”

“Not that kind of skeleton.”

“Then what kind?”

“The family tree kind.”

Hickok hissed in frustration. “Skeletons. Trees. I’m beginning to think you’ve lost your marbles, pard.”

“At least I had some to start with.”

The three of them were in position by nightfall.

Blade sat in the fork of an oak tree 30 feet from their camp and stared at the fire. Eventually one of them must creep out and add fuel to the flames, but for now, thanks to the strategic placement of their backpacks at the south end of the lean-to, the camp gave every impression of being occupied. It had been his idea to stack the backpacks at the one end to block the view of anyone, or anything, approaching from that direction. If he was correct in his hunch, if the creatures followed the same path tonight as last night, then his trap might work.

He glanced down at the ground 12 feet below and shifted to alleviate a cramp in his lower back. All day he’d been bothered by pain from his shoulders to his hips due to the beating he’d sustained. He guessed that Elphinstone had done the pounding. Only the hulking brute possessed the strength necessary to bruise his body even through the backpack he’d worn at the time.

Blade gazed off to his right at the thicket screening Geronimo and again to his left at the base of a tree where Hickok lay hidden. Neither one was visible.

His simple plan called for staying concealed until either the mysterious wood nymphs or someone from the castle put in an appearance. If the former showed up, he’d try to capture one. If Morlock or Elphinstone appeared, he’d wait and see what they did before deciding on a course of action.

Cradling the Marlin in his arms, he settled down to spend the night if need be.

Blade mentally reviewed his performance in the castle and concluded he had a lot to learn yet about being a Warrior. He never should have gone after Endora by himself or let her lure him into an ambush. The mistake might have proven fatal.

And there was another mystery. Given Morlock’s hatred of outsiders, and since, as Morlock claimed, he believed his wife was being attacked, why did Morlock use a net and a chair instead of a gun or knives?

There were so many questions and so few answers.

Another full moon arced above the horizon, a timeless celestial observer of the unfolding of human history.

An hour went by. Two.

Blade half-expected there wouldn’t be activity of any kind until near midnight, so he was surprised when, idly glancing to the southwest, he spied pale figures gliding through the trees toward the camp.

The nymphs!

Excited, he tensed and watched the three or four dozen creatures rapidly near his position. They were tittering and prancing, the same as last night, remarkably light on their feet. He marveled at their grace and ghostly aspect, keeping as still as stone until they were almost to the oak tree.

Recognition brought shock. Blade’s gray eyes narrowed as he realized they were human, near-naked men and women whose skin resembled the finest china. They were all over six feet tall but skinny as saplings.

Members of both sexes wore skimpy leather shorts, nothing else, and the womens’ breasts swayed as they ran. All were grinning or whispering excitedly.

Blade focused on a pair almost directly below him, a man and a woman standing a foot apart. He quietly looped the Marlin over his right shoulder, coiled his legs and leaped.

Somehow, the woman sensed his presence and looked up.

The youth landed behind them, bending at the knees to absorb his weight, and sprang, tackling both of them around the legs and bearing them to the ground. They felt incredibly light, as if they weighed a mere 90 or 100 pounds, and offered no resistance except for a startled cry from the woman.