Work Text:
With the coming of autumn the air had become cold and dry and the forests a patchwork of browns, reds, yellows and the occasional last hint of green that hadn't wanted to leave yet. The roads hid under a blanket of dead leaves and would have become unrecognisable if they weren't framed tightly by trees or occasionally old brick walls.
The six-horse hitch wasn't going very fast, as the coach woman had ignored her customer's total of 14 requests to go faster quite dutifully, responding from the tenth time onwards that he'd have to pay more if he wanted her to hurry the horses on a road this old and uneven.
At a crossroad up ahead she spotted a figure. As they came closer the stranger moved in the middle of the road and she stopped the horses.
"Where are you headed?" the stranger asked.
"Next stop will be Sovyorovo."
"Got room for one more in there? I can pay."
"That's up to my customer, not me," she nodded behind her.
The stranger was limping slightly as he moved towards the carriage. If he noticed the bodies tied to the top, he didn't care to react.
"Who are you?" her customer demanded.
"Just a traveller passing through."
"Take off that hat! I want to see your face."
The stranger obeyed somewhat hesistantly. He was missing an eye, the eyelid hanging loosely over the empty socket. His beard and hair were both in desperate need off a trim and it was hard to say whether he was very old or had just fallen on hard times.
All in all not an everyman face. The coach woman was sure she could've recognised him if she'd ever seen him before and would even if she didn't see him for five years.
"Where are you headed?" the customer asked.
"Sovyorovo, if you'll have me."
"Why? What is your business there?"
"I'm looking for work. Not much of that out here now that the harvest's over."
"Do you know who I am?"
"No, can't say I do."
"And do you know any of the men up there?"
The stranger looked up at the bodies, squinting slightly against the white clouds that covered the entire sky.
"If I did I doubt it'd do them much good," he said dryly. "But aren't you worried about animals eating them up there?"
The customer scoffed. "On a moving carriage? Fine, so you're an idiot and know nothing of my business. You're welcome to come in. But I'm warning you, if I even think you're about to pull a weapon, I will shoot you dead on the spot." He kicked open the door.
The stranger put his hat back on, climbed inside and sat across from the customer.
"You're a bounty hunter, I'm assuming?" he asked.
"Sure am. You really haven't heard of me?"
The stranger shrugged and scratched at his beard. "I'm not from around here," he said vaguely. "Just passing through."
The coach woman didn't pay mind to their quiet conversation. She focused on keeping the horses moving even as the road got steeper and sighed in relief when they finally reached the top of the hill. For a while the path would remain straight before they'd go back down.
A bird landed next to her at on the coach box.
She glanced over at it. Large and black, a slight blueish sheen. A crow or raven, she didn't know the difference well enough to tell. She'd never had a bird land next to her like this though, no matter what kind.
It made an odd noise that wasn't really a click and not really a call, a strange ghostly mix of the two.
She tried shooing it away but the bird didn't seem to care.
It turned its head towards her on her second attempt. She noticed that it was missing an eye. One bore into her with too much intent for an animal, but on the other side of its head only a small indent indicated where the second one was meant to be.
She remembered her grandmother who'd always kept a dead crow nailed to her door to ward off bad luck. Bad omens, she'd called the living ones. Her grandmother had been a wise woman.
"Maybe I should snap your neck and nail you to my doorway," she told the bird.
And then it laughed.
Sharp canine teeth glinted in the pale light as it laughed hoarsely.
She screamed and hit at it with her whip. The horses panicked at the loud noises and she fell off the coach box at the sudden stop, as the animals tried to throw off the belts keeping them tied to the carriage.
"What's happening out there?" the bounty hunter burst out of the carriage. He was just in time to pull the coach woman out of the way as one of the horses kicked.
She managed to get back on her feet.
"Where's that damn bird?" she demanded, a wild look in her eyes.
"A bird?" the bounty hunter asked.
"That one?" the stranger asked.
The coach woman and the bounty hunter followed his gaze up to where the bird sat on one of the dead body's faces and tore into the flesh. Strips of skin hung from its teeth.
"Told you to be careful of scavengers," the stranger said.
The bounty hunter shot at the bird and finally it flew off.
The coach woman ripped the gun from the bounty hunter and pointed it at the stranger.
"Hey, now," the bounty hunter said but didn't take it back.
"You are not getting back into my carriage."
He didn't argue.
It started to rain before they reached the foot of the hill again and she almost felt bad for making the stranger limp through the rain the rest of the way.
The bird didn't come back though.