Dunbury was farmland for the most with wheat silos and the odd airship carrier flying over for harvesting. What gave it a reputation was the gypsies moving from place to place within it. Never really leaving a trace of them being theere but a fire pit covered over with dirt. Sometimes not even that on nights the fire wouldn't light. It was such a peaceful part of the country, shame it was built on blood and whiskey.
As he looked around the night was calm, the smell of manure and grass was thick in the air. Bill was sure it wasn't just livestock manure too. Many farmers and travellers relieved themselves within the grass and blamed it on the animals. He saw people going back and forth on the road.
Bill stopped them for directions with his gun secretly aimed at the people he stopped through his pocket. He couldn't tell everything they were saying but got just enough from they're dribble about the French all the way to how to get to Dunbury. The guy might have said dung buried, however Bill took what he needed to know from him.
He started to get into a town where there was a a lot of noise in a barn with wagons roughly parked out the front of the big doors. A big wrought was happening and he had the safe assumption it had to do with Shankel. He parked the wagon where he was greeted by his name given to him from the trenches by three men dressed very typically gypsy... Hatchet. This didn't really appeal to him as he didn't want to be seen as a novelty fighter but an envoy from and for the lads army.
The three men were told of the whiskey and was let into the barn, there he saw a distinctive tattooed man fighting a black man twice his size in a haystack circle with three gaps evenly placed. It was Shankel, he was essentially dancing around the black man ducking and parrying every attempt, only to be followed by a well placed hook or jab where the poor fella had not guarded. Bill observed his method to know what not to do, it was clear Shankel was more than a competent boxer. He surprised the big man with an elbow to the throat which only got a louder applause from everyone here. Now Bill knew gypsy rules on haystack fight, if it was not consistent and well placed it was legitimate. The fight between the two was in full swing until the abrupt end, where Shankel gave the big man a left hook to the jaw followed by another. And like that the fight ended with the big man on the ground holding his head and jaw. Bill was surprised to see Shankel offer him a hand up, but once refused he hit him the hardest he'd seen him hit the whole fight and left the black man unconscious in circle.
Shankel was obviously quite emotional and took brotherhood from all sorts seriously. The cheers continued with drinks all round, until Shankel spotted Bill and he went from smiling to reared up and ready for another fight.
"Hatchet you made it! I was beginning to think your spine went yellow" Shankel was very enthusiastic.
"wouldn't miss it for the world mate, only if it knocks that smile off your face" Bill held his cool with slight grin purposeful moving.
This only made the crowd and Shankel cheer hurry him into the circle. It was time to remove unnecessary clothing and knuckle up.
Shankel was already without a shirt and shoes. He was a well built and toned white man with tattooes from head to what Bill suspected to his ankles. There was blood on his knuckles and a couple blisters and callouses forming on his hands. Bill removed his hat, jacket, shoes and shirt. What showed was a man the same size as Shankel with good muscles, especially in the forearms. Instead of tattoos Bill had scars, all with a different story. There were some women in the crowd, it was clear by the sound of different pitches in voice through whistles people insisting he strip down. The whiskey obviously was already in use.
He stepped into the middle of the ring and Shankel followed in, both men being well suited to fighting and having the body to show had an applause and cheer to fight.
Bill wanted to start him up to get him to burn his energy faster. He elbowed him across the face and followed through with two jabs before Shankel was atuned to his style of fighting, Shankel looked enthused and a little angry.
"so that's how you fight, okay let's do it that way" Shankel meant every word.
He started with a run up kick which threw Bill into the hay, he then followed by punches to Bill's face which threw Bill off til he caught one by two fingers in his left hand lunging them from the right to the left then releasing punching him in the nose with a quick forward step. Shankel was thrown back with a blood nose and the crowd went silent for a moment, only to roar with cheers and applause.
Shankel now with a grin ear to ear started showing proficient boxing form with a duck and weave approach now harassing Bill with jabs and hooks in all directions. It was hard to parry them all and some landed hard winding him. All this harassment was angering Bill, it was now getting to the point he'd blank out in anger. He wanted to stay on top of his anger, it was getting difficult. He'd been blocking and parrying for a at least a minute now and his anger was in check, Shankel on the other hand was fully committed to knocking him over and giving Bill a ground and pound session. Bill held out and was keeping his rage to himself until he got a punch to the groin from Shankel, and this would anger any man no matter the rules of engagement.
Bill went blank now really showing his anger, he charged Shankel ducking under his right hook picking him up and dropping him onto the ground. He stayed on top keeping the pressure punching Shankel furiously aiming for the head, throat and nose. Shankel was good as parrying from this stance and managed to avoid most of Bill's hits, but not all. His head bounced off the floor from each punch that made it through which after six bounces two men threw Bill off Shankel. Bill snapped out of his blank out and saw one man kneeling over Shankel and the other between him and the man looking after Shankel. He got up and looked square at Bill with surprise, and a look he didn't recognise. The room now was tense and silent, no movement nor breathing could be heard.
Suddenly all but Bill came alive with applause chanting "HATCHET! HATCHET! HATCHET!"
Bill and Shankel were bloodied and bruised, Shankel hugged him with force, "That was a fight for the ages lad, the lads army can't say they have an academy officer in charge"
"I'm glad I made your night" Bill was very happy over the result.
He'd not only made friends with the gypsies but a personal friend with Michael Shankel, an unstable but loyal to the bone gypsy.
"Now my friend we EAT AND DRINK ALL NIGHT!" Shankel was very loud about it.
There were drinks and locally made food pushed into Bill's face, which he took most. The women there were just as enthused as the men and some even looking over his way, he'd forgotten where his jacket, shoes and shirt went. He had hands pass over him by drunken men and women a like, some not drunk but drinking all the same. He'd finally found his shirt, it was in the hands of a beautiful young woman who'd worn a mischievous look on her face since the fight kicked off.
"I'll need my shirt" Bill went to reach for his shirt but the woman pulled it out of his reach.
"I'll need something from you first, besides it needs fixing" she made it obvious she was looking him over.
His first thought was 'ah what the hell, live a little'. He didn't wait for the other thoughts to form, approaching the woman he grabbed her hands dropping the shirt taking them to her back and pushing her a little closer to him. Kissing her on her lips darkly red and descended kissing to her neck. He had her now from her reaction being she pulled him in and escorted him to a tented wagon. He'd tell the rest but a gentleman never would reveal intimate details.