Let Freedom Ring

“You’re gonna have to repeat that.” Mac said, very irritated.

“What. I said I had just remembered now seeing that Applejack lady more than a week ago!”

“You realize you had the chance to rescue Mr. Mac’s lil’ sis the moment you saw her, do you, Siringo?!” Cornfield scolded. The three were starting a spectacle as they argued with each other on the train to Dodge City. “Why didn’t you kill the two stallions holding her?”

“You’re one to say that. Mind you, this wasn’t long after I got into ‘that accident’. Didn’t want myself to get in enough trouble. I also had no damn idea that you were her brother at the time, Mac.”

“She would have talked about me.”

“That, she did not! As soon as I tried talking to her, she all got her tail in a bunch and questioned my morals. Then, she just fell asleep until we got over to the Gristles’.”

“Hold up! Just so we know this is the Applejack we are talking about, describe her.” The marshal instructed.

“Orange with blonde hair and green eyes.”

“You idiot.” Mac berated.

“Oh gee, I guess I apologize then, fellas. Blame me for not knowin’ the connection between the filly we’re trying to rescue and the one I met a week ago.” Horn pleaded sarcastically. “Gah, you two never even told me her name until now.”

“Okay, enough quarreling.” Cornfield groaned. “When we get there, you fools wait at the edge of town while I have the marshals get on their way to Appaloosa.”

………………………

“Spatch, Weaver, Cross, Kingfish and Gaptooth are leaving now. Uh, y’all are ready?”

“You ask it like you aren’t, Marshal.” Horn said. “You sure you want to do this? You can just lay back here while Mac and I do the job.”

“No, no. I’m the one in charge of this little party, y’see? I’m just about as confident as a manticore on its prey.”

“Whatever you say, grand-pop.”

Cornfield anxiously looked up at the skies above the direction of the Swift Brothers’ ranch. Thick, ominous clouds drifted with a tinge of red from the gases of the Badlands.

“Marshal, will you ta-”

“Siringo, take the lead.”

“Sure th-”

“Wait!”

“What?!”

“Uh, you all sure we’re stocked up for this?”

“Are you trying to stall? This is only a half-day trip.”

“Er no, it’s a genuine question.”

“Okay, let’s see.” Horn tossed his satchel on the ground. “I’ve got my canteen, a couple boxes of ammo for my trusty breech-loading rifle, my bag of money and what I usually need for setting camp. What about you, Mac?”

Mac peeked into his bag. “Pretty much the same essentials as you.”

“Wait, hee hee, wait.” Horn chuckled as he looked deeper into Mac’s bag. He pulled out a gray pony doll, with only one button for an eye. “Just - hee hee, shit. Just explain what the hell this is?”

“Smarty Pants?” He answered, unconcerned.

“Just wanted to know.” Horn tried his hardest not to burst into laughter as he placed Smarty Pants back. “I-I wasn’t trying to mock ya or anything. Marshal, are you ready now?”

Cornfield didn’t answer, remaining in his state of abstraction.

“Mar-!”

“Oh ok, dammit, we’re going now!”

…………………………

“Phew, there’s a rock big enough for shade, can’t we stop for a break?”

“Marshal, it’s only been about an hour of walking.” Horn scoffed. It has been a short time since their departure from Dodge City, but far enough for any building to be unseen on the horizon. “And it ain’t even that hot. And we’re halfway there now.”

“Mac, don’t tell me you still feel dandy after all this?”

“Eenope.” Mac replied, walking casually but focused between Cornfield and Horn.

“Is that a yes or...”

“He looks quite fine, as you can tell. Admit it, Marshal, you’re the only one scared on this little adventure. I saw it in you since we left Dodge. Hell, since we left Appaloosa, at most.”

“Mr. Siringo, I do not need to admit it, as I’ve already stated I’m not scared.”

“Bullshit.” Horn blurted.

“What gives you the privilege to say that?”

“I have gone through more purgatory than what every marshal in the West thinks combined. I’ve also seen, fought, and killed stallions more degenerate than the drunken ponies you deal with in Appaloosa.”

“You’re known as a cold-blooded killer who kills for bits. Congratulations, Horn Siringo.”

“So you’re going to pull that card out now, huh? I do the things I do to make a living because there are no other choices I could’ve ever made.”

“You couldn’t have exactly been a professor at Canterlot, couldn’t ya?”

“My first name is Horn. Which I chose for myself. Because I never knew my parents. What the fuck does that tell you?”

Mac gave up looking left and right to the two stallions’ bickering and carried on on his march.

“Without being so mocking, I’d say it makes you a damn fine idiot.”

“Okay, and who ever chose you for your ‘job’, Marshal? Did y’all just have a go at some drinking game and see who lasted the longest with a whore?”

“Dammit.” Mac interrupted. “With the two of you arguing like this, we won’t get nowhere.”

“Mac has a point, Marshal. Just admit you have your tail between hooves about this.”

“For the 42nd time and being honest-to-Celestia, no, I am not scared. We can just hold this argument off until the day I actually do shit myself. Will a temporary truce be held?”

“To stop being such a drama queen about it, yes.” Horn agreed.

The three of them turned their heads to the remote pop sound of a gun. Horn impulsively slipped his revolver out of his holster while Cornfield fumbled his own onto the ground.

“Is it just me or are these always on cue?” Horn muttered as he shuffled to the top of the hill they stood on.

Cornfield hesitantly followed behind Horn. “Does this bring us to the Swift Brothers’ house at all?”

“Er, yup, because it’s that right there.” He pointed to an isolated, wooden shack in clear view, looking like it could collapse any second. A single pony was spotted loitering around and waving a pistol.

“That’s Legerity?” Mac asked.

Horn stared down on the house for half a minute. “No - it’s supposed to be a trap. I should’ve expected that. There’s probably more ponies stuffed inside the shack.”

“We can wait for the pony hanging outside to get inside, then we can ambush them.” Cornfield suggested. “Like shooting fish in a barrel, as that saying goes.”

“No, I want to see if they can surrender first.”

“Why?”

“Who knows, they might not even be part of the Gristle Brothers’ gang. They could be just be travelers wanting shelter.”

“Then explain why one of them would carelessly shoot their gun into the air.”

“Come now, sometimes ponies just want a gun to fire.”

“Fine, Siringo. This is your call.”

“My pleasure, Marshal. Mac, stay behind me. I’m gonna go hide behind that rock right at the bottom of this hill and we’ll wait for that pony to head inside.”

The two slid down the steep slope, trying to make as little noise as possible. The pony was still firing the revolver every few minutes. After depleting all six shots, he finally trotted back inside the shack.

“Swell. Marshal, come down here now. Mac and I will go to that other convenient rock in front of the shack now. We should have a clear shot on anypony in the window and coming out the door.”

Horn and Mac breezily dashed to the other rock as Cornfield lazily walked down the hill.

“Marshal, you in position?” Horn asked as he took out his gun. In response, Cornfield just held up his hoof. “I’m going to fire anywhere on the shack where no one’d get hit, and you say your words, got it?”

Cornfield shrugged and pointed at his ears.

Horn grimaced and then shot at the roof of the house. Voices within the house cursed and shouted. Ducking behind the rock, Horn urgently waved to Cornfield to say his lines.

“Oh shit! Dammit! Who goes there?!” The house shouted.

Cornfield continued to confusedly stare at Horn as he kept waving.

“We ain’t afraid to kill y’all if it’s a war you want!” The house yelled again.

As a last signal, Horn made a vomiting gesture to Cornfield. Cornfield raised his eyebrows at him, at last knowing what he meant.

“This is Marshal Cornfield from Appaloosa! Outside with me are about 5 other marshals who are trigger happy and will not hesitate to shoot you dead unless you comply with us!”

“Bullshit! I bet it’s just you, a drunken imitator, and a little filly out there!”

“Mac, you’d better get your gun out.” Horn whispered. He turned to the house and supported Cornfield on his speech. “Does this stallion sound like a filly?! I want all of you to slowly get out that shack with your hooves stuck to the ground!”

“Now who was that, Marshal Cornfield?!” The house asked.

“That was Marshal Star!”

“No! That ain’t him! I recognize that voice! That’s that bounty hunter, Horn Siringo! They be trying to kill all of us!” Without hesitation, the house shot back at Cornfield, Horn and Mac.

“Gah-dammit! What are the chances of that?!” Horn cursed. “You okay, Mac?”

“Eeyup.” Mac answered as he took out his new repeater.

“I’m pretty sure you know the technique, just keep your ass down and fire at them if they’re not doing the same to you. Marshal, are you okay over there?!”

Cornfield didn’t respond, still cowering behind the rock as it was pelted by bullets.

“Well it seems that they’re all focusing on Marshal. On my count, we fire at them. Three, t-”

“Two one.” Mac swiftly rested his repeater on top of the rock and aimed at the house.

He fired three shots, hitting three ponies with perfect aim. Followed by Horn, he also shot three at the house, only managing to strike one. At that moment, the house became quiet.

Horn slowly peeked out the rock. Through the door, he saw the corpses of the ponies shooting at them.

“Holy shit, Mac. Nice job. Was that all of them? Marshal, you can come out now. It’s safe.”

Mac took a quick glance in the house through the window. “None of them look like Legerity.”

“You’ll to take a better look than that. Maybe we did ki- aaahhhh!” he screamed as a lurking stallion hopped on top of him, struggling to slice his throat with a sharp hunting knife. “Mac! Marshal! Get this piece of shit off me!” He forced himself on the ground and rolled around, making the pony drop his knife.

The stalker breathed down Horn’s neck as he attempted to punch him now. Horn tried to stand up, helping give a better shot. As he got on his hooves again, the face exploded next to him. He looked up to see Cornfield and Mac in front of him, both holding up their guns.

Mac gave the dead pony a long, concentrated look, poking him with his rifle. “That is not Legerity either.”

“What the hell was that?! Which one of you gave the shot?”

“The shooter be me.” Cornfield replied.

“Shit, his face was right next to mine. A couple more inches to your right and you would’ve killed me too!”

“Well, one thing is, is we’re all fine and dandy now, right? Who were these ponies, you recognize any of them?”

“They’re all wearing a red bandana around their neck. They’re definitely part of the Gristle Brothers’ gang. The one who recognized me is known as Sweet Tooth Taylor, with a bounty of 500 bits for assaulting a mare in Appaloosa. In other words, you owe me 500 bits, Marshal.”

“I’ll work on combining all those rewards sooner or later. We should head back to Appaloosa now, fellas. No need for burying any of these bodies.”