Heaven's Home part 2

The emblem of a sun cast in gold shown from the shields and helms of each horseman. Though their faces were unshaven and their odor harsh to the senses; their blades were well kept. They drew out their swords as they rode into the trading village, shouting at townsmen who didn't scurry out of the way fast enough for their liking. Their blades were frightening, shining in the sun so brightly that the swords seemed to burst into flame. The men shouted in a foreign tongue and halted their horses. One man among them spoke up loudly and in a recognizable language.

"Our king, the Sun God, Rorrick has sent us here from across the sea. We are the steel riders of Westridge! There is a girl who has come to this village very recently. Bring her to us now and spare us the trouble of tearing this place apart."

The villagers stood frozen watching the riders with fearful eyes as they murmured to each other. The rider who had spoken with the mark of a golden sun on his helm bellowed once again.

"Hear me! Be quick about this and the man who brings her to me will be given gold. If you tarry I will spill enough blood to quench the desert's thirst!"

Men and women alike scattered at the rider's words. They went to hide in their homes, those who were especially greedy or especially fearful went in look of the woman who had come recently to their village. The market area which had been very crowded a moment before was now occupied only by the steel riders and one man who leaned casually against a wooden post.

"Did you not hear me scum or do you wish to experience a blade forged in the Sun God's furnaces! No weapon on this earth is it's equal."

"Is that right?"

The rider grunted.

"I'll challenge your blade against mine but if my blade beats yours, you will leave this village until the sun rises once more in the sky."

The rider laughed and sat proud on his steed. The gold on his helmet shown brightly and his fingers tapped against the jeweled pommel of his sword. "It has been over a week since I have had the opportunity to spill blood in a proper fight."

"So you agree to duel me? Agree to the terms?"

"I agree to the terms. This will not be a duel, nay it will be slaughter! I have fought in the fiery arena of my god king! Draw your blade or beg now for your life."

The man pulled aside the thin dirty jacket to reveal a curved black hilt sticking out of a leather sheathe barely big enough for a dagger. The riders leaned forward with confused expressions on their faces. The man pulled forth a metal contraption that was rounded and at the end came, instead of a point, a hole. All of the riders began laughing at the small contraption. Their laughter would have drowned out their angry shouts from before a hundred fold.

The rider that spoke for them all bellowed at the man. "What do you call that?"

"It's called a gun, a sword of thunder. Are you backing out of our duel?"

The rider chuckled. "No, you might think killing a fool will turn the taste of victory to ashes, but blood is blood."

The rider leapt from his horse and drew his sword all in one smooth liquid motion. He swung the sword around him in a brilliant display of mastery. The sword shown with power as it reflected the light of the sun until it's possessor became nothing but twilight and flame. The man with the gun leaned back against the post holding up a hand to shield his eyes from the brightness of his opponent's display. As it began in a flash it ended just as quickly and the rider charged forward his brightly burning sword leading the way.

An explosion of thunder and swords clashing together filled the air. The rider stumbled and fell, clutching at his leg which was now bloodied.

"How? You didn't move!"

"My blade has deceptive reach. Do you yield?"

"I'll yield."

"Thank you. I thought this was going to end up messy and I'd end up having to clean it up."

"I'll yield when your blood is warmed in a tub for my bath!"

"That would be really messy."

The sound of thunder and swords crossing filled the air once again. This time the rider fell and did not move. His sword lay at his side, still ablaze in the fires of the sun, and splattered with the blood of it's former master.

The gunman turned his back on the riders and sheathed his sword of thunder. "Take your man. I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

He didn't know if they understood him but they dragged the rider onto his horse and left the way they had came. A whirling cloud of dust and sand left through the desert and after a while disappeared from sight.