Part 2 of 6
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Tonight, master frontiersman and student of the occult, Thomas Blackhall, finds himself ensnared in a legal predicament.
The Skinner Co. Network
194 - Support: a Blackhall Tale, Part 2 of 6
[Music] Welcome to FlashPulp, episode 194. Tonight, we present Support, a Black Call Tale, Part 2 of 6. This week's episodes are brought to you by View from Valhalla. Hey, Meg. What should I put in my intro? I don't care. Just as long as you don't do the story so far. Yes, I know, but how will my listeners be reminded of what happened so far? Get the episodes out quickly. Yeah, that's the right one talking. Have you fixed your timeline? You know he doesn't like when a story jumps back and forth in time. No, I'm still rewriting the whole thing so that it's not in first person narrative anymore. And what about your cast? Shut up. View from Valhalla. The website for podcast novel reviews. At www.viewfromvalhala.com FlashPulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age. Three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings. Tonight, Master Frontiersman and student of the occult Thomas Black Hall finds himself ensnared in a legal predicament. Support, a Black Call Tale, Part 2 of 3. Written by J.R.D. Skinner. Art and narration by Opopinax. An audio produced by Jessica May. On the second morning following his unplanned departure from civilization, Thomas Black Hall sat alongside a cottage hearth with Layton, the private who'd first led him to his family dwelling. They'd arrived the afternoon previous, with the intention of Black Hall taking lodging for a final night of proper bedding in preparation for delving into the lens beyond the map's edge. Layton, a lad of twenty, had extracted his pipe, a fine piece purchased with a sizable portion of his enlistment bonus, and was smoking contentedly after a large breakfast. " Likely my last furlough for quite some time," he said. "I'm going to miss this place." "Hopefully they won't ship me far." "And to think, my Betsy will remain behind with that scoundrel green." "Although I will be surely mashed in our coming bout, I look forward to the meager chance of dispensing his comeuppance." "I do fear, however, that I may not feel such when I find myself in the whiskied hands of the old surgeon." From somewhere outside the shanty's walls, Thomas could hear the youth's father grossing at his cattle and crops, and the familiar sound pulled at his heart as if the intonation were carried from his own home across the broad waters of the Atlantic. He nodded. Blackhall had received an earful of the boy's situation while they'd marched through the tall trees, and he was now all too intimate with the lad's concerns regarding one Betsy Russell, especially as they related to a certain enlisted man, a warrant officer named Green. A recent tussle of the maidens' regard had left the pair of suitors with a scheduled bout of pugilism, a boxing match late knew he had no hopes of winning, but persisted in to maintain face. Before Thomas could cut the forlorn lover short, he'd once again launched into lamenting his predicament. While feigning interest, the frontiersman retrieved a small satchel from his traveling kit. Two days earlier, after being placed under nominal arrest and escorted to an ostentatiously decorated hall, Thomas had refused the plush wingback chair he'd been offered, instead continuing to stand while he laid out his complaints at being roughly hauled away like a common drunk. Captain Gordon fits you, who suffered the brunt of the berating, found himself smirking well preceding his being allowed an opportunity to reply. "Ah, old Bowman is a likeable enough lot. A bit superstitious, but who can blame him considering the fate of his lad?" "Well done that, on your part I mean." "The problem was eating at me for quite a while, and honestly each time the girl would come about my office begging for some hint of assistance, I'd off think of you, and how it would be damn good to have your exotic skills at hand." As the captain talked, Blackhall had seen fit to use the army officer's desk as a platform over which to first extract one of the fine Spanish papers he kept in a wax pouch, and then apply, untidally, a ragged line of Virginian tobacco. He made no effort to clean his scraps from the muddle of papers layering the well-varnished oak. "It still seems an oddly hard-hearted bit of business to have me roasted," he said, tearing the twisted end from his finished work and leaving the waste to fall amongst the mess. "Perhaps it was not entirely Bowman's idea," replied Fitzhugh. "Perhaps I noticed your entry of the establishment, and knew you a man to rarely be in need of a barrel. At least, not unless you've come across, or against, something truly interesting." "Whatever the case, we had a conversation, here in my office, which left poor Harold inclined to stand for his property." "Fine. To cut to it then, I've no interest in fetching milk for the queen, and if my accounting of our history is correct, it is you who owes me all of the favors anyhow." "I may have horigned that barrel-maker into signing a complaint, but I'll push it if you make me." "I think we'd both regret that." Fitzhugh took a sip of his scotch and cleared his throat. "I've gone about this the wrong way, and I'm sorry. I know how the tally lies, but I ask for a final accommodation, and before you refuse me, hear me out." Digging through the ashy heap within the room's fireplace, Blackhall found a particularly hardy coal and lit his ragged cigarette. The captain took the actions acquiescence. Wiping the damp remnants of his drink from his drooping mustache, the military man stated his case. At first it was just a few trappers willing to risk the hinterland, which, frankly, didn't raise many eyebrows, as we lose those lads all the time. You watch them trot away with a canoe, and you can never assume you'll see them again, unless you happen across them in town at some future date. It did reach a point, however, when the numbers ran strangely high. Then came the stories. In the Chippewa hunting territory, it was said there was a breed of locusts roaming the land, raising tracks of forests and non-moose to the bone while still on their feet. Probably I thought, but the reports persisted. I've dispatched six men now, in two groups, but have no words since their departure. It was Rosie-Red Archer I sent out in charge of the second lot, and I ought to have heard from the codger. Thomas had stood alongside Rosie-Red when he'd earned his name, while breaching the walls of Qui-dad Rodrigo. The man had an unpleasant aptitude with a bayonet, but was also known as greatly competent in all aspects of brutality. "Hmm, if the bush is done in Archer, I'm not sure what help I might be," he replied. "Don't dunder a bout with me now," answered Fitzhugh. "Will you do the job, or shut out bottle you till dawn to allow for further consideration?" When Layton, who black-hauled truly felt some warmth for, had finally run his mouth dry, Thomas offered the favor he had pondered since they'd embarked on their journey. "It may pain you to see your faux green advance, but I hold a few of your captain's debts in my pocket, and I'd be pleased to cramp the old man's hand with the letter writing required to earn your arrival of promotion." "What? You'd see him in a lieutenant?" "I cannot say what impact it may have on Miss Russell's affections, but at least a commission and the risk of court-martial would restrain your competition's ability to thrash your soft face into gruel." Layton nodded in consideration. The necessary puppeteering and paperwork was only a minor revenge on Fitzhugh, but it seemed to add an extra serving of satisfaction to the bacon black-hauled stomach was still greedily digesting. FlashPulp is presented by FlashPulp.com and is released under the Canadian Creative Commons attribution non-commercial 2.5 license. Text and audio commentaries can be sent to skitter@skitter.fm or the voicemail line at 206-338-2792, but be aware that they may appear in a future flashcast. We'd also like to thank the Free Sound Project, found at freesound.org. For a full listing of effects used during the show, as well as credits for the users who provided them, please check this episode's notes at flashpulp.com. And thanks to you for listening. If you enjoyed the show, please tell your friends. [Music]