The Night of the Emperor's Sword

[MissRedhead]

Author's Note: This was the very first finished piece of fiction I ever wrote. It was written for an assignment in my Creative Writing class in college back around '03 I think and the assignment was to write a story about an object that had a curse on it, the curse could be real or not. This version is edited from the original in that the original I had written in present tense as if I was watching the story unfold like an episode. Eventually I learned that it is easier to read past tense

[MissRedhead]

The Night of the Emperor's Sword


Washington DC
Train

“We have to transport What?!” Artemus Gordon nearly choked on his drink.

“You heard me Artie,” James West placed an oblong box on the desk. “The colonel has ordered us to transport the Sword of Xia to San Francisco where it will be shipped back to China.”

“Jim, do you know the story behind that sword?” Gordon tentatively pointed at the box.
West was in the process of shedding his blue pinstriped jacket. “The sword was stolen from the Chinese Emperor around 1403 AD and has been an object of smuggling up until last month when the SS Vermont caught an Indian smuggling ship off the Delaware coast,” West recited and takes off his blue tie and pin.

“No, no, no,” Gordon collapsed onto the couch and sunk his head into his hands. “I’m talkin’ about the curse Jim. The curse of the Sword of Xia.”

West sat in the matching lounge chair, “you don’t really believe that stuff do you?”

“Well, look what’s happened to all of its previous owners.”

“Just campfire stories Artie. We’ll reach San Francisco fine.” West got up and walked over to the desk. He opened the box and carefully unwrapped the sword. “En guarde!” He turned the sword on his partner.

Gordon glanced down at the sword blade hovering by his throat. “Jim, please put that thing away before someone, like me, gets hurt,” he pleaded.

West pressed the blade against his finger, testing the blade. The whistle blew and the train jerked and started off on its journey.

“Ouch.” West’s left hand flew to his mouth and the sword dangled at his side, forgotten in his right hand.

Gordon jumped up and grabbed West’s hand none too gently. “Let me have a look. You’re fine. You’ve just pricked yourself. Now will you stop foolin’ around with that thing and put it away for good?”

West laid the sword back in its box without further argument.


Owatona, Mn

Excepting Jim poking his finger on the sword blade at the start, the train ride has been rather uneventful and Gordon began to relax a little about having the Sword of Xia in their private railcar. Relaxing on the sofa, reading a book and drinking a glass of red wine, he was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe there really wasn’t a curse on the sword after all.
Despite slicing his finger on the sword, West was in the small bathroom trying his luck with a shaving razor.
Suddenly the wheels locked and the train skidded to a stop. Gordon spilled wine on his green smoking jacket and cursed. Even more colorful cursing emits from the tiny bathroom.

“What’s the matter Jim?” Gordon sighed as he mopped up the spilt wine with a handkerchief.

West entered the main cabin pressing a towel under his chin, “cut myself with the razor.”

“Go fix yourself up. I’ll find out why we stopped.” Gordon exited to go talk with the engineer.

West returned to the bathroom and removed the towel and saw that his cut has stopped bleeding. Perhaps he should leave sharp pointy things alone for the rest of the trip. West shrugged into his powder blue shirt and dark blue vest.

“Hey Jim! I found out why we stopped,” Gordon came back into the parlor car. “There’s a rockslide covering the track ahead and we must be the first ones to find out about it. We’re going to have to backtrack. I told you that that sword was bad news.”

“Come on Artie, we’ve seen rockslides before having the sword.” West walked over to the settee.

Suddenly the outer door was thrown open and five masked and armed bandits appeared inside the parlor car.

“Put yer hands up and don’t move.” Three of the men kept West and Gordon at bay from a distance with guns loaded and pointed, while the other two ransacked the train. They made out with West’s and Gordon’s money purses, several bottles of spirits, and the Sword of Xia. The bandits then made a hasty exit out the door.

West ran to the stable car and quickly saddled his horse to pursuit the Sword of Xia.
Gordon grabbed the Colt 45 from his gun belt which was hanging on the back of the desk chair. He ran out the door after the bandits, firing in earnest. One of the bandits fell off his horse but the rest of them made it to the cover of the woods. Gordon crept over to the body with his pistol still raised. The man was still alive, barely.

“Guess I ain’t a good bandit if I’s got shot,” the man coughed. “Here’s yer purse back fer gettin’ me.” The man shoved one of the money purses into Gordon’s hands and exhaled one final breath.

West rode full gallop after the bandits. He passed his partner and the fallen man and chased the remaining bandits into the woods. He lost sight of the bandits and slowed his horse, looking around. Suddenly West got knocked off his horse and he rolled around on the ground with his attacker. He finally got a chance to get up on one knee and delivered an uppercut to the offender. Another man jumped onto West’s back and wrapped his arms around West’s neck. West staggered up onto both feet but fell back to his knees. He whipped the bandit over his head and the guy landed flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him. Another bandit makes a running dive at West, knocking the agent onto his side. West shoulder rolled and ended up on his knees again. He delivered a sharp chop to the attacker between the guy’s shoulder blades and the man slumped to the ground. West stood up but immediately collapsed back to the ground and didn’t get up this time.

“This place is as good as any to make camp,” the leader of the now badly beaten bandits dismounted from his horse.

West’s horse, which was on a lead rope, stopped next to the leader’s horse and whinnied loudly. The was thrown over his own saddle, still unconscious with his hands were tied behind his back and his ankles also bound.

“Boss, I’m tellin’ ya we’re bein’ followed,” the bandit with tell tale signs of a broken nose said as he dismounted.

“You just don’t know the woods good enough, that’s your problem. Now all of you half a sissies go hunt down some food.” The leader set West’s body up against a large oak tree and got started making a fire.

West slowly came to and blinked his eyes rapidly upon feeling the sudden warmth. He noticed that his ankles were bound as well as his wrists.

A figure came out of the trees and entered the camp. The newcomer appeared to be a Russian gypsy.

“Vell, vhat hev ve got here?” The gypsy walked up to the newly started fire. “These voods belong to the Kleuv gypsy family, trespassers hev to pay de penalty.”

“What the,” the leader stood. “Who are you?”

The gypsy wandered over to West. “I am Pavel of the Kleuv gypsy clan and these are our voods. You are a Cossack, nyet?”

“A what?”

“A bandit on a horse.” The gypsy stood West up. “No, you are not a Cossack. You can’t even tie a keptive correctly. See? He could slip out of his bonds just like thet.”

During the gypsy’s speech West hit his elbow against the tree, springing his sleeve knife and cut through his wrist bonds.

“Hey!” The leader made a move toward West but was intercepted by the gypsy.

West worked hastily at his ankle bonds.

The gypsy delivered a solid punch to the ring leader’s midsection and then a sharp uppercut to the jaw. “Jim! Grab the sword,” the gypsy ordered, dropping his Russian accent.

As soon as West was done with his ropes, he grabbed the Sword of Xia. Gordon grabbed his money purse and the only bottle of whiskey left. The sound of the other bandits approaching was getting louder.
West mounted his horse and waited for Gordon to mount his, which was only a few yards off. The two Secret Service agents galloped off just as the other bandits arrived back at camp with their dinner.



Train

“See, I told you that the sword was cursed.” Gordon changed out of his gypsy costume and was applying a wet rag to a nasty gash in the back of his partner’s head.

West laid on the couch with one leg propped up on the arm. “What are you talking about Artie? We got the sword back didn’t we? Ow!” West twisted his head and gave his partner a dirty look then held the rag in place himself.

“Sorry.” Gordon rocked back on his heels not looking the least bit sorry. “Maybe that knock on your head has muddled your memory. Allow me to refresh it for you. First, you sliced your finger. Second, there was a rockslide, I spilled wine all over and you cut yourself again. Third, the sword, our purses, and our drinks were stolen. Forth, you got cracked across the back of your head by a shotgun barrel,” Gordon counted the mishaps on fingers.

“So that’s what hit me,” West interrupted.

“Fifth,” Gordon continued, “I get a slight burn on my hand during my little fight with the bandits. And sixth, since when do you twist your ankle dismounting?”

West sits upright on the couch, “my horse got upset by the sound of the train switching gears.”

Gordon snorted and his expression is one of disbelief but he wisely didn’t comment. Instead he helped his partner onto his feet. Slowly, West pulled away and tried a few steps on his own.

“Better Jim?”

“Yeah, thanks Artie.”

Gordon walked over to the desk and pulled out the Sword of Xia. He rolled the blade around in his hand, admiring the workmanship. “You know James; great beauty often hides great evil. I think you of all people would know that.”


Fort Collins, Co.

West and Gordon slept soundly in their beds as the train navigated a mountain pass. The sound of the warning whistle awakened West. He leapt out of his bed but the train slid and skidded to a harsh stop throwing him against his chest of drawers. West gained his footing and burst into the tiny hallway at the same time as Gordon.

Gordon rolled his eyes upon seeing his partner cradling his left arm. “You okay Jim?”

“Yeah, just a bruise,” West flexed his arm.

The engineer’s mate entered the tiny hallway. He was covered with a light dusting of snow. “There’s ice on the track, sirs. Also, a large storm’s coming our way. Looks like it’s going to turn into a whiteout.”

West and Gordon looked at each other.

“I hope the lines aren’t down.” Gordon hurriedly sat at the desk, pushed the sword aside and started tapping out a message on the telegraph.

“Alex, you and Orrin batten down the hatches,” West orders the engineer’s mate.

The agents watched the telegraph intently for three long minutes. Finally, they were rewarded a return message.

Gordon acknowledged the message and rose. “Fort Collins is ten minutes yonder on horseback. The storm’s going to hit in half an hour. Standard procedure dictates that we abandon train and take shelter at the closest settlement in a five mile radius,” he commented.

West took command of the situation, “Artie, I’m going to saddle up the horses. You get together anything we might need, including the sword.”

Within seven minutes the train was boarded up and the horses loaded with supplies. West and Orrin rode West’s midnight black steed in the lead and Gordon and Alex followed on Gordon’s chestnut. They arrived at Ft. Collins just as the blizzard hit. The general of the Calvary stationed there extended his hospitality to the newcomers. A Lieutenant took their horses to the stable while the engineer and his mate were shown to the barracks with their bundles and West and Gordon were shown into the general’s cabin.

“You boys sure are lucky you got here when you did.”

“Don’t we know it,” Gordon said as he warmed himself by the fire.

“President Grant is worried about you two. Wants a report when you got here.”

“I’ll take care of it Artie,” West said as he walked over to the general’s telegraph.

“Why thank you Jim,” Gordon smiled as he turned his back to the fire. He listened to the brief message being typed out. “That’s it? You’re not going to tell him about the bandits?”

“We have the sword back don’t we? That’s all that’s important,” West smiles coolly.

Gordon’s jaw hung and his eyes were large and round, “yeah but…”

“A sword? Oh, what kind of sword?”

The general introduces his daughter who has just walked in on West’s and Gordon’s little quarrel. “Gentlemen, let me introduce you to my daughter, Annie. Annie, Mr. West and Mr. Gordon of the Secret Service.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Annie dipped a curtsey. “Oh, my daddy told me you were a comin’. He told me so much about yous that I feel like we’re old friends. Now, what’s this about a sword?”

The general started to bring his daughter aside, “please excuse her, she has this infatuation with blades.”

“Oh, no problem,” West smiled and pulled out an oblong box. “This is the Sword of Xia. We’re transporting it to San Francisco to be deported back to China.”

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Annie squeals and grabs the sword’s handle.

“No, this way,” West reached around Annie.

Gordon cleared his throat. “General, I need to have a word with you,” he pulled the general aside.

As West corrected Annie’s handling of the sword, he slowly pulled her into a kiss.



Train

“Ah, underway at last. You know, I can’t wait to reach San Francisco and get rid of this sword.” Gordon walked over to the desk and opened the box. “Jim! Stop the train!”

West looked up from his newspaper. “Why Artie? Whatever for?”

Gordon looked gravely at his partner. “We’ve got the wrong sword.”

West ordered the train stopped and his hazel eyes went hard. “I know exactly where to find it.”



Fort Collins, Co

West rodes up to the fort. The fort guards opened the gate and admitted the rider.

The general cames out and greeted West. “Mr. West, I thought you and Mr. Gordon had left for ‘frisco. Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine General. I’ve just misplaced something.”

“Well, take your time West. I’m sure Annie will be delighted to see you again.” The general left to continue his duties, leaving West alone in the middle of the fort.

As if on cue, Annie came wandering outside. Seeing West, she stopped short. “Why Mr. West. A pleasure to see you again. Where’s Mr. Gordon?”

“Oh he couldn’t come back with me. He’s caught a chill and needs plenty of bed rest.”

“I’m sorry, please send him my concern. By the way, what brings you back to this little ol’ fort?” Annie smiled and tossed her blond curls.

“I seem to have misplaced something of great value. Perhaps you would help me find it?” West smiles thinly.

Annie turned her back to West, “well, let’s go into my daddy’s cabin and see if we can find that lost item.”

West dismounted and followed Annie into the cabin.

“So Mr. West, what is this misplaced object we’re looking for?”

West crosses his arms and cocks his head, “you know very well what I’m looking for.”

“Could this be it Mr. West?” Annie plucked the Sword of Xia from her collection. Before West got a chance to take it away from her, Annie swiped the sword in a quick downward motion, cutting the back of West’s hand.

West grabs his hand in surprise. He staggered towards Annie and collapsed to the floor.




A lone Calvary officer rode up to the front gate of Fort Collins and a guard escorted him to the general’s office.

“General Forrester! Lieutenant Bernie of the Third Calvary, Sir! Requesting permission to lodge at your fort on my way to the Seventh Calvary, Sir!” The tall blond newcomer saluted.

The general nodded, “permission granted. Show Lieutenant Bernie to the barracks.”

The tall blond lieutenant saluted one more time and turned on heel to follow the guard but Annie walked into the general’s office. “Ma’am!” The newcomer saluted to Annie.

“At ease Lieutenant,” Annie dismissed the officer without a second glance and continued on with her business.

The lieutenant exited the cabin with his escort. “Well, who was that fine young lassie?”

“That was Miss Annie, the general’s daughter. Here is your bunk,” the guard pointed out an empty bunk and left the lieutenant alone in the barracks.

West awoken to find that he had somehow lost his jacket and vest. He noticed very quickly that his wrists and ankles were handcuffed to the cabin wall. West gaves each cuff a tug to find that all four were tight and secure. Annie cames into his view, fortified with the Sword of Xia.

“Mr. West, how wonderful of you to come back so I can give you one last fond farewell.”
West smiled and cocked his head, “you set this up just to say an elaborate good-bye? You shouldn’t have.”

“This blade has been dipped in a form of poison; it is no longer the blessed knock out formula from before. Just one scratch and well,” Annie rotated the blade in front of him.
“Just be a good boy and stay completely still. I really am quite an accomplished swordswoman.”

West looked at her without any expression; there was no anxiety or fear in his face to give Annie any pleasure.

Annie made two quick movements with the sword and both of West’s sleeve cuffs fell open. One by one from bottom to top, the buttons popped off of West’s shirt until only one button was left, his collar button.

West still seemed unconcerned that there was a sword blade dipped in poison hovering around his very vulnerable neck.

Suddenly the door was thrown open and slammed against the wall. Annie, momentarily startled, scratched West’s neck along with taking off the remaining button. West’s eyes crossed and his whole body slumped in its bonds.

The blond lieutenant burst into the room with his pistol drawn. “All right, drop the sword.”

Annie complied. “Mr. Gordon. I see you’re over your cold.”

Gordon ignored the remark, “now, kick it over here.” Gordon squatted down to pick up the sword without his eyes leaving Annie or his gun wavering. “Okay, let him down now. No funny stuff.” Gordon moved closer to ease his partner down.

“Your untimely interruption has caused Mr. West to be poisoned.” Annie commentted dispassionately.

Gordon’s face showed no concern for his partner. “Now Miss Annie, if you let us leave without incident, we won’t press charges.” Gordon stuck the Sword of Xia through his gun belt and hoisted his unconscious partner over his shoulder.
Somehow, Gordon was able to slip over to the stable unnoticed and settled West over his saddle. Gordon tied West’s horse to his saddle horn and then mounted behind his partner. West’s horse followed Gordon’s obediently. They left through the back way of the fort and rode back to the train.

Gordon dumped West’s prone body onto the sofa and washed out the cut on his partner’s neck. He felt for a pulse and found one, although weak. “Come on Jim,” Gordon slapped West’s cheeks a few times. “James you’ve got to wake up. You’ve gotta.” Beads of sweat broke out on Gordon’s forehead and his eyes were intent on his partner’s face.

Finally, West stired. “Artie?”

Gordon rubbed West’s trembling hands vigorously. “I’m right here Jim.”

“Cold. Weak,” West breathed.

Gordon covers West with a gold embroidered blanket. “Come on Jim old boy, you’ve got to open those eyes of yours. You were poisoned.”

West slowly opened his eyes and rewarded his partner with a dull hazel gaze.

“Here Jim, try to eat some of this,” Gordon spooned some sort of gruel into his partner’s mouth.
West grimaced but swallowed the stuff. His body stopped trembling and color slowly returned to his pale cheeks.

Gordon sat up and relaxed slightly. “You really had me worried there Jimbo.”

Reminiscences of West’s old cocky smile hinted at the corners of his mouth, “who me?”

Gordon hesitated for a fraction of a second before delivering a good natured swat to the back of his partner’s head before ordering to the train to continue on.




“Thank heavens we’re almost there. I can’t wait to get rid of this sword and its curse.” Gordon complained for the nth time to West.

“Artie, there’s no such thing as a curse.” This time West didn’t deliver the statement with as much incredulity.

“Well, let’s just tally up our mishaps and see shall we?”

Suddenly there was the screeching of breaks. West, who was pacing about the private car, was thrown against the mantelpiece.

Gordon jumped up from the couch as soon as the train completely stopped. “Jim! You okay?”

West held his head slightly dazed. “Yeah, just bumped my head.”

Gordon sealed his lips and let out a sigh through his nose. “Ice that and I’ll find out why we stopped this time.” Gordon exited then returned a minute later. “Bridge out ahead.”

West turned around holding an iced rage to his head. “Is there anybody trying to steal the sword this time?”

“No, not yet.”




San Francisco

“Well, we finally got rid of the Sword of Xia. I guess you’re right Jim, curses don’t exist. I’ve thought over our whole trip. Nothing has happened that we haven’t been through before. You know, I kind of got fond of that sword. Didn’t you Jim?” Gordon sipped his scotch on the rocks.

West gave his partner an incredulous look as he applied a rag to a bruise on his arm.