[Complete] When young Boone Rigger is pulled into the most fierce Gunslinger Tournament in the country, he must find the courage to kill, or be buried six feet underground.
The Iron Alchemist: Slinger Wars Book 1
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Krix stared at the sand that'd been sunken by a boot larger than Brugars. Sunken by a boy that was bigger than any man he knew. An easy target when hit, yet to make him fall might take several rounds.
"That is no boy," Krix snarled, knelt down on one knee. "Do you mind? You're blocking the light…"
Brugars oversized frame stood like a pillar casting a fifteen-foot shadow. He leaned and the sun peeked from behind his small head.
"He's still a boy and we don't hunt the young…"
Krix lifted his head, "we hunt what I say we hunt …" The man stood to his feet brushing dust from his coat then looked to the northern horizon. They were fifteen miles west of the Wagons Run, and the sun sat at midday, scorching the land. "They are headed towards Ghostbound … fools will get themselves killed before they leave that abandoned town."
The large man scratched his flaking head, "Why do say that?"
"Because he stands out like a sore thumb … it's been a few days now … Everybody from here to Railford is aware of what the big boys dodid The man grimaced. "It'll only be a matter of time before he's soaked the sands with his blood. Saddle up! We've got a long ride ahead of us."
The further north they rode the more the sky darkened from white-cotton that blossomed out of the vast blue above, growing like flowers in a garden; the clouds sailing east while the sun arched west until the ball of fire was swept beneath the white-cotton rug, awakening shadows along the land below.
Krix looked to the sky, "hope a storms not brewin…"
Brugar held the reins tight, tilting his head back and chin up, observing the sky like a boy who discovered it for the first time. "Those ain't storm clouds, master … them are as soft as a Merkoits breast." His twinkled, dreaming his head was resting on one now.
Krix groaned, "you ain't thinking about that apes teet again are you? She was a foul sight, nearly drove me blind looking at her … fact, my eyes still throb and head aches just thinking about her."
"She was kind … and she would sing me to sleep … not just a woman for bedding, but one for wed—"
"Don't you start that shit again…" Krix said, kicking his sandy-haired horse forward to gain some distance. "We won't have any talk of that here … you know who you're married to … and that's me until you owed what's paid."
Brugar stroked his coffee-brown mount that was large as a horse could be, though looked to buckle under the man's weight. "I know …" He said somberly, "but one day, when this is all done, I'll ask for her hand." His lips grew stretched. "And use my bounty to take her to a cottage where I stroke her red strands, kiss her olive skin, and smell the prairie that perfumes off her flesh every day … and maybe, if we're lucky, we'll have a few youngins of our own."
