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Billiam wrinkled his nose in disgust as he slowly steered his horse toward the town that was rising in the distance.
He once again cursed his estranged butler for being the reason that he, Sir Billiam III, was now about to be subjected to the atrocities of the lower class. Once he caught up with Hubert - and Billiam would, the trail he was following was fresh - he resolved to make his ex-butler’s last few moments of life extremely painful.
Which was a shame really. Billiam liked Hubert. The man had been in his service for many years and had, up until the last week, never presented a problem.
That was before the Egg was discovered. Before Billiam struck his deal. Before they started sacrificing the less fortunate to feed the Egg.
Who knew Hubert had morals? Billiam certainly didn’t. So when the Egg had summoned him and told him that Hubert had snuck out and left in the middle of the night and that the man had to be dealt with, he’d been surprised and a bit hurt but he had agreed. Hubert knew too much, poised too much of a threat to the Egg to be allowed to live. So Billiam set out, following the already cooling trail of his ex butler to silence him before he could spill secrets.
The town was small, empty and quiet when Billiam rode in. He steered his horse toward the saloon. He has just dismounted and was tying the lead to a hitching post when he saw movement out the corner of his eye. Looking up he was greeted with the sight of a lawman that was half guiding and half dragging a bloodied individual across the street.
He was just close enough that he was able to catch the lawman’s angered words as he rumbled them out.
“Daggum it Crops! You just had to go and eat that fancy dressed new fella that just rode into town didn’t ya? Right in front of the boy too. Don’t you have any restraint?”
“Sorry Sheriff. I was hungry,” was the deeply baratoned reply of this “Crops” individual. He sounded nonchalant and uncaring which prompted the sheriff to turn his head and give the man a long, hard look. The man simply shrugged as best he could in the sheriff’s grip, adding with a small smile, “He wore a mask. I thought he might’ve been a bandit.”
“Real funny Crops. That man was very clearly not a bandit” The sheriff says dryly.
Billiam watched as they disappeared into a building that he assumed was the jail. Well, he thought as dissatisfaction curled through him, that problem certainly solved itself. It was a shame really. Distasteful. Billiam had so wanted to be the one to end his estranged butler, wanted to be there and watch the life leave his eyes. Alas, it seems it was not meant to be.
He petted his horse gently, debating what he should do. He had no doubts that Hubert was indeed dead so he should start heading back to the manor, to the waiting Egg. He eyed the door of the saloon. The Egg was hidden very well yet it was now without a caretaker. Billiam would have to sort that out once he got back and right now he didn’t feel like it.
He was thirsty, tracking a run away nonstop for days was taxing and his poor horse could use the brief rest before being forced to make the trek all the way back. The Egg could wait a while longer, Billiam decided.
The inside of the place was quite impressive. Much nicer than Billiam had expected. The few towns people that were gathered within barely even spared him a glance, which Billiam was grateful for.
He stepped up to the bar and was greeted by who he assumed was the bartender, even though the boy was definitely not of legal age to be running such an establishment.
“What can I get ya stranger?” the bartender asked with all the professional politeness of a business owner though Billiam could detect a slight wariness to his tone and wondered why it was there. Had Hubert done or said something before he met his end?
“Do you have anything expensive?” Billiam scanned the shelves behind the bartender for anything that looked expensive, “I have very expensive tastes you see.”
“Might have somethin’ down below, let me go check,” the bartender turned away, disappearing down a trapdoor hidden ladder that was next to the shelves.
While he waited for the bartender to reemerge, Billiam couldn’t help but overhear the conversation that had struck up from the towns people seated behind him.
“I say Percy, my boy, aren’t you at least the slightest bit worried about that group of bandits that rumors are talking about? Especially now that the sheriff has started hinting that he’s getting too old for the job. Aren’t you worried about them targetin the bank for its riches?”
Billiam straightened at the mention of riches as the towns people continued on, the banker piping up in response.
“Why no Will, I’m not worried at all! You see I keep all the riches very well hidden and even if those bandits do manage to work out where they are, they’ll never be able to actually figure out how to get to them. The only two people who know the secret is me and that little orphan boy and I’m confident that he’s a mute.”
The group laughed in delight and started questioning the banker on redstone mechanics while Billiam started to entertain the thought about getting his hands on those riches. He could always do with more wealth and the secrets the banker was boasting about couldn’t be too hard to figure out.
He is pulled from his thoughts when the bartender reappears with a bottle in his hand.
“Found this for ya stranger,” He announced, sitting the dust covered bottle on the counter in front of Billiam before grabbing a rag to wipe the dust off the label, “Some kind of French stuff.”
“Ah Perrier - Jouët Belle Epoque. One of my favorites.” Billiam smiled, recognizing the champagne immediately. What a coincidence that one of his favorite brands of champagne were present here in the dusty little town. “I do enjoy a glass of this during a nice quiet evening. Speaking of which, do you have any rooms available perhaps?”
Two solid gold coins were placed on the counter.
“Sure do!” The bartender said immediately, eyeing the gold with wide eyes, “Any room ya want stranger.”
“I’ll take on with a street view.” The bartender retrieved a room key as returned. Billiam placed another gold coin on the counter as he reached for the key, “This is for the champagne. Keep the change as a tip.”
Billiam took his champagne and a glass and headed for the stairs that lead up to the rooms above. As he headed up he heard the bartender’s voice rise in a slightly annoyed tone.
“Percy! I told you twice already to keep that bee ‘a yours on his leash while in here! I don’t want him goin an’ stingin someone!”
“Can it John!” Percy hollered back, sounding half tipsy, “Banker’s bee ain’t hurtin’ nothing!”
Billiam couldn’t help but smirk at that. Come morning the banker would have a lot more to worry about than his bee.
-
Night fell slowly and gently across the land. Billiam watched from the window of the saloon as lights in the windows of the establishments below dimmed and then were extinguished as the patrons within retired for the night.
He waited until it was just past midnight, just creeping into the early hours of the morning, before he stealthily exited the saloon and headed toward the bank.
Earlier in the afternoon, Billiam had taken a stroll around town. His main focus was the bank. He discovered there was a side door. It looked flimsy and something that he could easily get into. He also found several sticks of TNT stuffed in a barrel not too far away from the bank. If all else failed, he would blow the place to smithereens and take what he could and bolt. If.
Billiam dropped the tools he retrieved from his horse earlier. Luckily, he had learned to always carry his supplies with him while he traveled. As the past had taught him, best to be prepared than caught off guard. The only problem was that he usually had Hubert do the dirty work while he watched. He never actually learned how to do things such as pick a lock. Those tasks he’d left for his servant.
He was so caught off guard that it took him longer than he would have liked to admit to realize he was no longer alone in the alley. The slight shuffling and rustling of fabric started him. His head snapped up and to the side and he was met with the sight of a boy. A brown haired grey eyed boy who was peering at him curiously. Billiam took in the boy’s appearance; ragged clothes, the amount of dirt that was caked to the boy’s skin, how thin the boy appeared and determined that this must’ve been the little orphan boy the banker was talking about.
“Uh…” Billiam blinked as the boy just continued to stand and stare, “Shoo? Go away? Begone?” Billiam even went so far as to do a little shooing motion to get his point across.
The boy blinked at him and didn't speak. He looked from Billiam to the door and back again before something flashed in his eyes and he turned away and quickly exited the alley.
Billiam heaved a sigh, his relief short lived when he realized that the orphan boy had probably ran off to fetch the banker or, worse, the sheriff. Panic started to surge through him as he frantically dropped the lock picking set he had held in his hand and reached in the bag for the small iron pickaxe. He froze when the sound of jingling rang out behind him. Slowly, Billiam turned around, expecting to see the sheriff looming behind him. Instead, he is met with the sight of the orphan boy.
The boy has a set of keys, keys that Billiam recognized as the same ones the banker had on him in the saloon. The boy was holding the keys out toward him with an expectant look on his face.
“Where did you get these?” Billiam asked even as he reached out to take them from the boy. The boy shrugged as if to say, does it matter, and it was good enough for Billiam.
The key to the door was easy enough to find, especially since the boy knew exactly which one it was. The vault was even easier to find. The thing was huge and it stuck out like a sore thumb. With how much the banker had been boasting, Billiam had figured it would’ve been more inconspicuous. Perhaps a tad bit harder to locate.
It did appear, Billiam conceded as he stood looking for a way into said vault, that the banker had not been boasting about it being locked up tight. Unfortunately for the banker and fortunately for Billiam, the orphan boy seemed to be more than happy to show where the button was that would open the vault door.
The vault was filled to the brim with stacks upon stacks of, Billiam smiled with glee, gold. Hastily, he started grabbing arms full after arms full and stuffing it into the empty saddle bags he’d brought. He didn’t stop until his saddle bags were nearly bursting and the vault had been nearly emptied.
“Bah,” Billiam grunted to himself, deciding the small amount of gold left was not worth his time, not when he had the majority of it. It was time he departed from this town, preferably before anyone realized what had just transpired. He wanted to be long gone when the banker found his vault door wide open and his riches gone.
He struggled with the weight of his saddle bags as he carried them out into the alley, where the orphan boy was standing guard. The orphan whipped his head around to stare as he stumbled out into the alley, the gold clinking around rather loudly.
“Watch this,” Billiam said, dropping the saddle bags at the orphan’s feet, “I will retrieve my horse.”
The sky was just starting to lighten with the coming dawn as Billiam led his horse into the alley to start securing the many saddle bags filled with gold onto his steed. The orphan helped him as much as he could, dutifully half carrying and half dragging the further bags closer so Billiam would have an easier time reaching them.
Billiam hummed his thanks and once he was done, he started leading his horse towards the mouth of the alley. Noticing the orphan following closely behind him.
“While I do thank you for your help,” Billiam turned to the boy, “I am leaving now and where I’m going, there isn’t a place for the” he eyed the boy from head to toe, his dirtied appearance and torn clothes that just screamed poverty. “poor. ” He finished, ignoring the way the orphan boy’s shoulders and head dropped and how the boy just nodded, as if he understood.
“Well now ain’t this a sight.” The deep voice that suddenly spoke up startled them both. Billiam tensed and the orphan boy jumped, both turning around just as Crops stepped from the shadows that still stretched across the alley, a smirk on his face. “What do we have here?” He asked, tilting his head towards the wide open side door, “A bank robber and his accomplice?”
“I don’t believe I quite understand what you mean.” Sir Billiam stated, keeping his expression schooled as he turned to face the criminal, “That door has been open the whole time. Is that the bank? I wouldn’t know. Besides, didn’t I see the sheriff hauling you off to the jail when I was riding into town?”
“Cute,” Crops grinned, “You did but you see I require certain…” He looked down at the orphan boy, who quickly ducked behind Billiam, “nourishments so the sheriff let’s me out on the principle that I don’t… dispose of anyone important. So I have a proposition for you, stranger..”
“Oh?” Billiam lifted a brow.
“I’ll let you ride out of here, quietly and won’t alert the whole town if you hand over that orphan to me. What do you say, we have a deal?”
Billiam regarded the man standing before him. It certainly didn’t take a genius to figure out what the man intended to do to the child. His gaze flicked down to the boy, still hiding behind him, who was looking up at him with wide fearful eyes. Who frantically shook his head as Billiam contemplated his opinions.
The boy was a witness. He was also an accomplice but Billiam doubted the townspeople would see it that way. Getting rid of the boy would be the smartest move to ensure all - he eyed the cannibal - nearly all loose ends were tied up.
Yet.
He did recently lose his butler and this child had proved to be quite useful. A little cleaning up and he could pass the boy off as a servant and the boy surely wouldn’t pass up the opportunity at a better life that what he now lived. But then again… servants were easy to come by, all he had to do was flash his wealth and they would come flocking. Yet how many of them would be able to stomach murder? Billiam certainly didn’t bat an eye at murder either, he’d done plenty of it after the Egg came into his life. Speaking of, it was also something he needed to take into the equation with a new butler otherwise he would end up in this exact situation again.
With a sigh, Billiam came to his decision.
The orphan seemed to realize it too and from the way he hung his head in acceptance and dropped his hands from where he’d been gripping Billiam’s pants, he thought Billiam was about to hand him over.
The boy started to shuffle around him, slowly and hesitantly stepping toward Crops, but Billiam stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. The boy’s head whipped back up, mouth hanging open in shock as he was pulled back and Billiam was raising his gaze to the cannibal, “We do not. I will be taking the gold and the boy with me.”
Crops tsked, pulling a stick of TNT from behind his back. “Shame. Best get a movin then” He struck a match and lit the fuse before throwing it down in the sand between them.
Billiam acted quickly, gripping the boy and throwing him onto the saddle before hopping up himself. The sound of the TNT exploding spooked his horse and he gripped the reins with expert precision and quickly reached forward to soothe the startled animal. He urged his horse into action, tearing through the town as the folks bursted from their homes, the voice of Crops’ following him, “Stop them! Stop them! They’ve robbed the bank!”
Bows were fired, arrows whizzing past as Billiam urged his horse faster and faster into the cover of night. They were many many miles away before Billiam slowed his horse to a steady canter, silently thanking his past self for bringing the horse with the greatest endurance and stamina in his collection.
“Are you hurt?” He asked the boy, who was tucked in front of him on the saddle and gripping the horn of the saddle tightly.
The boy shook his head in the negative and Billiam let his shoulder relax with relief. That had not gone as smoothly as he’d have liked but it worked out in his favor. More riches to add to his already impressive collection as well as a new butler.
“Good.” Billiam said, pulling the reins to steer his horse in the general direction of the manor. They had many miles to go but at this pace, they should be back home come nightfall. He supposed he should give the boy a run down of what he expected, “Listen closely. I will bring you home with me. You will live in my manor as my new butler. I will clothe you, feed you, and give you a safe place to sleep. There will be rules that I will ask you to follow and those rules differ depending on if there are guests at the manor of it is just you and I. My only demand of you is that you do as I say and hold anything you might witness inside the manor to absolute secrecy. Understand?”
Billiam looked down, expecting the boy to nod his understanding yet he was slightly surprised when the boy turned in the saddle to look up at him with gray colored eyes that sparkled with determination and something like relief and spoke in a voice that was raspy from disuse, “Yes.”