The Blades of a Thousand: Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Black Horse

Warm light from the flickering oil lanterns, those that Jack had designed and crafted himself, bathed the small fenced of field in a joyful tint of yellow. The sounds of Cicadas filled the crisp night air with a lovely hymn, that brought peace to the hearts of many in the Thousand Swords. Not Jet's heart though, all it did was irritate him further. The sounds of the never ending insects and the snorting of the creature before him, were like cranks being shoved into his eardrums.

The large brown war horse snorted in amusement as Jet tried to climb onto its muscular back. With a snicker, it kicked its legs up into the air and threw the mechanic to the soil before it.
“Damn unreliable beast!”
Jet despised animals in general, this one he especially hated. Machines were reliable, the did what he wanted to do. He crafted them to perform a task he wanted. They didn't have thoughts, minds or instincts – they simply performed their job in automatism. Creatures on the other hand, had to be trained to do what you wanted them to do, and even then they were defiant by nature. Animals sought freedom, all an engine sought was fuel and basic maintenance. Jet however had an especially large loathing for creatures that were larger than him. Especially those he was meant to ride. He had planned on taking the motorbike he had built for Jack, but the moronic rev head had wrapped his masterpiece design around a stationary pine tree. In the small time between their mission briefings and the other three departing for Greenthorne, the biker had crashed and destroyed it into an unrepairable state. Now he was being forced to try and ride a horse, if he could get onto its oversized mass. Damn Jack and his inability to do anything but be violent and break things violently.

“Awwwww, isn't Mr Jet having any luck there?” Aylla was giggling in amusement, at Jet's expense.
Humans also fell into his category of animals, that of things he typically hated. Humans lie, mock, fight and kill. Jet knew himself to be no better than the rest, but that didn't mean he overly enjoyed the company of others. If someone was in danger then Jet would attempt to save them to the best of his ability, but otherwise – he preferred the company of oil, metal and his personal collection of tools.
“I'm going to punch this damned creature in the gut if it doesn't co-operate.”
Scrounging through the dirt, Jet got to his feet for a fourth attempt. Clambering onto the stepping block he had placed there after the previous failed try, he cracked his neck in preparation – as though this was a fist fight with a worthy adversary.
“Now beast, do as I request and stay still.”
Grabbing the horse from behind the shoulders, he began the gruelling process of pulling himself up onto the horse's hunched back. The horse seemed to be following his command as he dragged his chest onto the tensed muscles of the black hulking beast of war. Sliding himself across the stallion's hunches he forced one of his legs around the steed's waist. He had won, he had bested the animal.
With a laugh of triumph he patted the horse's mane. “You cannot defeat me!”

With a loud screech, the horse reared up onto its hind legs. Gravity, and all its evil, pulled the heavy mechanic to the ground with a powerful impact. That was it, he was done with this damned monster.
“You stupid, brain dead piece of meat.”
Consumed by a furious rage he rose with his fists clenched tight. With an angry roar he slammed his steam powered metallic fist, of his hard auto-mail left arm, into the ribs of the mocking creature. It howled like an agonised wolf as the force of Jet's mighty punch shattered some of the war horse's ribs on impact. With an ear splitting whine it crashed into the earth, kicking its legs in pain. Jet had been thrown into that dirt all day today, now the beast was getting a taste of its own medicine.
“What the hell did you do to my horse.”

The stable hand sprinted to the enclosed field, where his precious creature thrashed about in the mud and grass. Jet just shrugged in response. Aylla was sitting on her own horse completely aghast. As far as he was concerned, he'd rather walk to ochre than ride a damned horse. The stable boy flung himself over the fence and hastily ran to the side of the horse. Jet never understood how humans felt so much sympathy for other animals. Animals were meat and creatures of burden. Soon they would only serve the prior purpose of being food. Does a Lion feel empathy for a gazelle that it stalks and kills? No it certainly didn't; so why, should people be concerned by the injury of a horse? True they were a means of getting into the thick of a battle faster, but with that they were simply tools. Tools to be used and dispensed with. Tools that had infuriating habits and personalities that meant they didn't always cooperate when needed.
“It's okay abacus, shhhhhh. I'll get you some help.” The saddle boy stroked the horses elongated jaw, as though it were a thing of beauty. “You broke my horses ribs you midget fuck.”
Why did everyone think he was a midget. He was just short, not deformed.
“You want to fight, kid?”
The brown haired child stood slowly to face Jet square in the eyes.
“Is all you know how to do is fight?” Jet distinctly remembered thinking the same thing about Jack but a few moment ago. “I'm going to go and find a doctor. You get the hell away from the stables.”
“My pleasure!” Jet screamed at the fleeing boy's back.

With the annoying brat gone into the darkness, Jet was left with the sound of the horse screeching and twisting, accompanied by the ever persistent Cicadas. Aylla was still poised on her own horse in a state of complete shock, lost in some chugging train of thought. Jet pondered how far his father had gotten with the development of the massive steel monster that ran on tracks. Jet admired his father and how in his old age, he still continued to built colossal works of mechanical art. What he would give to be able to travel on the brilliant steam powered transport instead of being stuck in this meadow with a crying pathetic horse.
“May I inquire as to why we had to meet so early in the morning?” Finally Etsuo had arrived, stepping into the warm glow of the lamps. “Did you hurt another horse again?”
It certainly was not the first time Jet had attacked a horse; he wandered when the commander would learn that he did not get along with animals of any kind.

Etsuo knelt beside the horse and attempted to calm the mad flailing of the injured stallion. Smoke was trailing from Etsuo's joint as he soothed the horse with his voice. Shaking his head, Jet ignored the sickening scene. Rotating his mechanical arm around he examined the stiffness of its motion. It seemed oddly delayed compared to the pulsing of his nerves. Opening up the side panel he inspected the gauges. The water pressure gauge was very close to the black; he had not refilled the water tank in some time, almost a month. Kate had created a new cooling fluid for him that he had planed on replacing the water with. Unfortunately he used what stocks he had left on the boat engine and had no idea as to where Kate kept her stocks of such liquids. With the long journey ahead he was just going to have to have to top the steam engine of his mail with water once more. If he ran out of water on the trip then he would be without the use of his left arm, not to mention if left too long he'd have to reconnect the nerves to the wiring. That most certainly, not something he wanted to do any time soon.
“I'm going to go get some distilled water.”

“Wait.” It was Etsuo, what did he want?
Jet turned back towards the baggy dressed man. It was hard to imagine Etsuo was known as the demon made of smoke – Enenra, not while he was kneeling before the wounded animal inspecting it's wounds. Etsuo Garcia was prodding the animals ribs while holding its vicious hoofs at bay.
“Yeah, what is it?”
Jet always found it hard to be angry with Etsuo, it seemed to be a popular condition when it came to the mixed blood smoker. He was always so polite, it was unnatural. Even with the Akuma mask that sat on the side of his face, he had a strangely calming presence.
“The damage you dealt to this poor animal is unrepairable. You have damaged three ribs – one of which has clearly punctured an organ.”
Since when did Enenra know anything about medical anatomy. Jet doubted the doctor they stable hand was fetching knew that much about horses.
“We was such a noble stead, judging by some of the markings on its body, its even survived a fire at some stage. Strong, but old. It is better we put him out of his misery.”
“NO!”

Aylla jumped down from her own horse. A new kind of fear in her eyes.
“You can't do that. You can't kill that horse.”
Salty tears glittered gold in the oil fire light as she grabbed hold of Etsuo and begged him not to kill the aged animal. It was incomprehensible to Jet why she would care.
“Please, you can't kill that horse” What did the horse mean to her exactly?
“Sorry miss Aylla, but it's this or the horse suffers.”
A strange sense of guilt clasped his heart, like a metal vice squishing it's beating circumference. Aylla was bawling now, the tears streaming down her soft light face.
“You can't; you just can't. It's a strong horse, it will survive.”

Etsuo rose to his feet and pushed Aylla away.
“Sorry, but it must be done.” With a sliding metallic ring, Etsuo unsheathed one of his four Shoto. “I hope your watching this Jet, this is the consequence of your action.”
With a spray of crimson blood glowing in the golden light, and a weeping scream from Aylla, Etsuo plunged his blade into the heart of the horse. Jet watched silently as Aylla cried over its hulking corpse and the executer wiped off his thin Asian blade. He felt, sad; not for the horse's sake though, but Aylla's. Jet had meant to hurt the horse, he had never meant to hurt her. For some reason this unintended harm was compressing his chest in a concerning pain.
“My, my horse. What the hell did you do to my horse.”

The stable boy had returned with a doctor, a mortification mangled and twisted his else wise handsome enviable face. Aylla jumped up and ran to they boy grasping him in, what looked like, a bone crushing hug.
“I'm sorry Michael, I couldn't stop him.”
Why did she care so much about an animal? Jet's burly knuckles wrapped into a fist as he watched her sobbing like a weak child – knowing he had caused it.
“It's not your fault.” The quivering voice of the child mixed with the weeping of Aylla's tears. “I'm certain you tried.”
The sound of their wailing was like rusty cogs screeching in his ears; he couldn't stand them. Turning away, he walked into the night. He might as well fill up we engine water of his arm.
“It was all for nothing.” Those were the finally words he heard before leaving the scene. A scene that was all his fault. No, it was the horses fault. The brainless beast was to blame.