Awaiting Gallows

April 23rd 1722 - Entry 2

As stepped out of the pub, I saw the three brutes pompously leading the girl to their carriage. They were sniggering under their breath as I got my first good look at the girl. The bastards must have thought they had struck gold, pretty thing like that.
"Is there a problem here?" I asked rather smugly, but I couldn't help myself.
They turned ans saw me. They looked rather moronic as smiled split their faces, but those disappeared quickly as their gazes fell upon the bottle in my hand.
"This ain't none of yer business, Callahan," Bruce spat, "Find your own."
I took a step forward. The three brutes saw my step and raised me a few bounds. I barely had time to block the meaty paw of Julius in time to stop my head from coming off my shoulders, but then the uppercut delivered by Don to my chest left me wondering if I should have come outside or not. It was too late now, though.
It may have been three on one, but I was a seasoned bar fighter. You can't exactly grow up in Cumberland County without picking up at least some brawling skills. Besides, as buff as the three bastards were, I was still armed, and as much could not have been said for themselves. I met their blows with a few of my own, plus lashing out with the busted bottle.
It even looked like I was going to win when Julius dropped out of the fight. I laughed and cursed his name, but then I realized this wasn't a retreat. He was doubling back to the carriage to grab something from its depths. My blood went cold when I saw what it was. It was long and silvery, it's wicked edge twinkling in the early morning sun.
It was a rapier.
Taking advantage of my distraction, Don, the little snot, put me in a bear hug from behind, knocking the bottle out of my hand. Julius walked towards me with a wicked gleam in his eye. The girl swayed drunkenly in her seat, belched, and applauded, but I highly doubt she had any idea what was happening.
Julius brought the sword up high and looked me dead in the eye, smiling maliciously. As the sword came arching down to spell my death in blood writing, I suddenly had a plan. I had no guarantee it would work, of course, but if I did nothing, I was a dead man, so I chose to try my luck.
I leant forward suddenly, and Don lost his balance and came with me. The sword drew blood, but thankfully, it wasn't mine. It cut deep into Don's shoulder, causing to drop to the ground howling in pain, clutching his mauled appendage with blood seeping through his fingers. Before Bruce and Julius had time to register what had happened, I popped Julius in the sniffer with all I could. A satisfying crunch told me that I had broken it, and blood sprayed onto my fist. Both of Julius' hands went to his nose, causing him to drop the rapier. Quick as a whip, my arm dove down and snatched it up. Half a second later, it was pointed at Bruce Fletcher's throat.
"Leave this place, and all of its peoples alone," I told him, "If I see you around here again, I may feel obliged to put this sword you so graciously gave me to good use."
He looked me in the eye, as if searching to see if I was kidding. I wasn't. With a snort, he dragged his son up from the ground and motioned for Julius to follow. As they walked away, Julius turned to me and drew a thumb across his throat. Maybe it was a bad idea, seeing that these people weren't ones to anger (and God knows I had already done that), but I couldn't resist replying to his death threat with a cheeky wink.