https://castbox.fm/episode/S1%3AE1-Pointy-Sticks-and-Horny-Toads-Episode-1-id1044369-id51142860?country=us
Chihuahuan Desert - May 20th
The best of the best of the best. A legend at the mere age of seventeen. A master swordsman and marksman and the fastest runner in the compound. Though Atticus' arcane techniques were lacking he could hold his own against any skilled mage. But who needed magic when you possess physical prowess that a tiger would envy?
Yes, he was the best of the best of the best.
Yet they still put him on guard duty at the front gate, standing with his spear in hand. A crummy spear!
All the years he'd guarded this front gate he couldn't recall a single moment where any nefarious intruder had stormed across the desert sands of New Mexico in a mad dash to invade the compound.
But there he stood guarding it with his life. Him and his trusty spear with the staff carved from hickory and a granite stone sharpened to a semi-lethal bluntness.
He straightened the green bandana around his head. Kneeling on one knee, Atticus tied the cord on his knee-high moccasin boot. He jumped to his feet and raised his spear. Like it was a mighty sword, he swung. His long red hair fluttered as he sliced his spear through the air, decapitating his invisible foe.
If any of those nefarious cosmic monsters did decide to rush the gates he prayed the bars would hold long enough for him to beat the miscreants to death with his dastardly spear. Though he'd probably be better off cracking the shaft so he could stab them with the pointy end of the stick. Paladins were, after all, taught to utilize any means necessary to defeat evil. And pointy sticks made for superb devil-slaying weapons.
Perhaps the Elders were teaching him a lesson in humility by giving him three consecutive nights of gate duty. But for gibbering goblins' sake! He was one of the prophesied warriors! Did he need humility? What purpose did it serve a warrior meant to slay an unearthly Beast?
Clanking and thudding sounded from old Mueller's barn a hundred yards inside the gate. More thudding. A shadow danced in the window of the barn's loft. The fiery desert sun forced him to shield his eyes to get a clearer look.
When Atticus saw the rainwater blue tunic hanging on a nail outside the barn his cheeks puffed and his loins tingled.
Just yesterday morning Venora and he had skipped off to Red Bluff Canyon a couple miles south of the compound for some Horny Toad Popping. Atticus had recently finished crafting his newest slingshot, fastening the sling from carefully cured baby lamb hide and carving the Y from fossilized desert wood.
Venora had followed him outside the gates wearing that long blue tunic with a fashionable headdress. Soon as they stepped foot into the canyon that tunic and that headdress found their way onto the sand.
He had seen Venora in her under garments before, yet each and every time it reminded him of why the Order was so strict on women's attire. If all the women chose to stroll around in their undergarments, then none of the warriors would get anything done ever again. Thank the Almighty she had the sense to use discretion and only disrobe inside the canyon where none could see. And sometimes within the confines of old cobweb-infested barns.
He swore she wore her makeshift undergarments—homemade from nothing more than thin strips of leather covering her bosom and nether regions—on their outings so to get the advantage. As if his natural lack of focus and her natural feminine wiles weren't enough of a disadvantage.
One thing about Nora that both attracted and repelled him was her undeniable need for victory over any endeavor she undertook. And that included Horny Toad Popping. She had knocked five fat toads into the sand before Atticus felled his first.
But he wasn't going to complain because he quite enjoyed his vantage point, purposefully positioning himself behind Venora. When she took a steadying stance to aim her shots, it was impossible to miss her taut muscles clenching. Her buttocks hardened like beautifully carved stone. The sweat on her legs glistened like oil on well-polished steel.
More clamoring came from the barn's loft.
Atticus summoned his fellow guardsman over. "Peter! Come at once."
Peter jumped from his tower and hurried toward Atticus. "Sir?"
"I need you to guard the gate alone for a short time while I investigate a situation."
"What situation do you speak of, Sir Atticus?"
"A matter of a most sensitive nature."
From the corner of his eye, Atticus spotted a red pickup speeding toward them, its rear tires spitting the sand of the Chihuahuan desert in its wake.
Atticus groaned. Venora would have to wait.
The vehicle rolled to a stop at the wrought iron gate. The driver, a middle-aged man with a gray bowler hat rolled down the window. Plumes of sweet smoke billowed from within. A strange music vibrated from the vehicle's speakers; a mix of bass, drums with an accented singer sounding strangely like Cadet Jamal.
"Just God again. Bringing more school supplies." Atticus gripped his spear, bracing it against his chest, and stepped next to the truck. "It's only Gawd. Lower your weapons." He signaled the sentinels in the stone watch towers on either side of the gate as well.
Peter pushed Atticus aside and leaned in Gawd's driver's window. "Wait here for inspection."
"But he's just a senile old delivery man," Atticus said. "We swat gnats more harmful than him."
"Protocols state that we must review all incoming persons and their cargo before entry through the gates. And it is not as though we have any other pressing matters to attend to."
Atticus stared longingly at the barn.
Peter checked the bed of the truck. Several wooden boxes with Apple logos. He pried one of the boxes open to confirm they were laptops.
Gawd leaned out the window. "You can trust in God. I won't lead you astray."
Atticus came up beside Peter. He grinned at the 9mm, .357, 5.56 and shotgun ammunition.
With a wave of his arm, Peter said, "All clear. Open the gate."
"Righteous," said the driver as he drove forward.
Atticus wiped his hands on his olive tunic. He couldn't wait to try out the new FN SCAR-L. No one knew where that strange guy got all the supplies, but he always brought the best provisions. Never used or broken, only the top of the line tech that the compound didn't have the resources to craft themselves.
More rattling came from the barn. Atticus grinned. As Gawd's truck rounded the corner to the warehouse, Atticus clapped Peter on the shoulder. "I'll be seeing to that serious matter now."
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