by Eric Vall
“Excellent. I trust you can handle the place, Mr. J.” I patted the small pouch and adjusted my new traveling cloak to hide the valuable parcel. “And Rylan, help our new farmhands and take care of Prosper for me.”
“Absolutely, Asher Alex!” Rylan grinned.
“Everything will be fine, just take care of yourselves and come back as soon as you can,” Jenner said.
“Will do,” I vowed, and then, with a series of goodbye waves, Zoie and I made our way off the estate and through the bowers of the green belt that circled most of the grounds.
Zoie and I walked side by side in companionable silence for most of the two-hour hike uphill.
The sun cast golden shafts of light through the boughs of the forest. They looked like pine trees in size and shape, but when the sun hit the needle-like leaves, flashes of silver and gold glinted like Christmas tinsel as if every one in ten of the leaves was dipped in precious metal.
Even the things on the ground were fascinating in the way the toadstools were pointed like arrowheads where they pierced up through the loamy earth, and how every so often a variety of jewel-like insects would scatter like a broken strand of Mardi Gras beads whenever I disturbed the forest detritus.
Occasionally, an unfamiliar bird call, or the bark of something that sounded like a fox, would drift above the canopy. It would give me an eerie sensation that felt like cold fingers exploring my spine, and it was like my head was on a constant swivel.
Even though the forest was beautiful in a classic enchanted storybook way, the alien-ness reminded me my surroundings were even more unknown and unpredictable to me.
“Hey, Zoie,” I said as an important little detail dawned on me while I watched the shadows lengthen around us bit by bit.
“Hm?” she questioned.
“Do you think there will be any demon attacks while we are traveling?” I asked as I glanced up at the sky.
“Oh, I think demons are the least of your worries,” said a sudden menacing voice from the dim forest growth.
Zoie and I immediately squared up back-to-back to better face our unseen foe.
A man with a large hooded cloak that hid his face stepped out from the dark trees with a bow and arrow strung taut.
And aimed right at my head.
Chapter 12
The hooded man laughed as he kept his arrow trained on my face, and Zoie’s back muscles tensed against mine as three more men came out of the forest with similar arrows all pointed at both our heads and hearts.
We were surrounded, and now was the absolute worst time to realize I haven’t trained enough with the current blade attached to my belt ever since I fought Ren in the Sun Temple.
“Planning a trip, are we?” the man in front of us asked as he walked forward a few steps.
The other men followed suit, and the circle around us tightened.
“Let us pass, and no one will end up hurt or dead,” I told him in a measured tone with my hands visibly held up in the Universal Sign for Don’t Shoot.
“I think not,” the man said and then gestured to the ground with the point of his nocked arrow. “Now, toss the packs right there.”
Zoie’s shoulders shifted, and I could read in her body language that she was preparing some sort of Warrior Princess maneuver, but with me unarmed, there was no way I was about to take that chance.
I needed to engineer another situation where I held all the cards.
I grabbed Zoie’s unarmed hand with mine from behind, and she made an abortive jerk as I derailed her attack. She shot me a quizzical look, so I squeezed her wrist twice in a way that hopefully telegraphed “trust me.”
She backed down but kept her stance coiled and at the ready just like the seasoned warrior she was.
I decided to treat this as part of my training and played copy-cat as I expanded my senses like her so I could be primed for any surprises. If I could control or level the playing field, then we could both walk away unharmed with all of our stuff intact.
I straightened up and puffed out my chest a little when I made up my mind. Then I made sure to look each goon in the hooded face before I turned my attention back to Robin Dick.
“We’re not going to give you anything,” I said as I placed my hand over my heart. “In fact, if you’re smart about this, we all might get what we want.”
And then, with a fluid sleight-of-hand motion, I pulled my Duelist Stone out from under my green travel cloak. The motion was too subtle for most of them to notice, but I did hear the guy on my left gasp. I decided to call him Merry Man Reject Number One, or just Number One, for short.
The figure in front of us laughed a nasally laugh that made me think of a hyena’s cackle. He then raised his bow higher so it was a dead shot right at my heart.
“How about this… if you are a good boy an’ wait patiently for me an’ my woodland gang to rob you, I will kill the girl quickly,” he said with a sick smile in his voice. “After I fuck her in front of you.”
“Oh, you fucking cunt, you are going to really regret saying those words,” I growled as a sharp rage flashed through me like a molten spike of iron. Then I swung off my pack and handed it to Zoie as the mercenary threw back his hooded head and laughed.
“Um, boss?” Number One finally piped up, and Anti Robin Hood stopped his evil guy laughter. “Look at the rock around this one’s neck.”
The mercenary stared at me from under his dark hood, and I could practically feel his eyes crawl down to the amulet on display around my neck.
“What’s this?” Anti-Hood lowered his bow and walked toward me. “What I thought was a simple highway robbery just got ten times more interesting. How much do you think a pretty thing like that will fetch in the underground market?”
“You know killing an Asher is against our clan ways,” MMR Number Three finally chipped in.
“Yes, but if I challenge this pissant to a proper Duel, I won’t need to follow the clan ways anymore, and as a rank-three, I will finally be able to rejoin society,” the mercenary leader said and loomed forward.
Tension cinched the air like a valve sucking the air out of the atmosphere, and I watched the MMRs lower their bows and exchange awkward glances beneath their shadowed hoods.
“You know challenging for Duelist rights is strictly forbidden,” Number Three said in a blank voice. “We will have no part of this.”
“Do what you must after, but for now I am still clan-blood, and you will recognize my command,” the leader said in an impatient voice and snapped his fingers. “You will all do as I say!”
The remaining bowmen raised their arrows at us again even though it was more reluctant than before.
Now that the matter seemed to be settled, the leader stalked up to me and scanned me from head to toe, and he lingered the longest on the amulet around my neck.
I glanced down at the Stone as if I didn’t realize it had been out, and then I locked my eyes back on the mercenary. He was close enough now, and I could see his narrowed green irises as he puzzled something together.
“I know you,” the hooded man said, and I could see his sharp teeth as his lips pulled back in a snarl. “You’re the new Asher everyone has been going on about.”
“The one who killed Dagmar?” MMR Number Two gasped, and the arrow he held on Zoie lowered a fraction.
“I heard he killed a third-rank without a weapon,” Number One blurted out as if he couldn’t help it, and his voice had the slightest edge of whine-like doubt to it, which was just enough to gain a foothold.
A strategy started to take shape, and hopefully I could widen that crack of worry with a little nudge in the right direction.
If my reputation was really as formidable as everyone seemed to think, I could potentially bank on the fact people would either fear me, or underestimate me. Goading my opponent seemed to work in the past, maybe it would work in this situation as well, so I might as well give it a shot. The guy didn’t seem very smart, if these idiots were the only people he could convince
to follow him.
“That’s right, I defeated Dagmar hand-to-hand as a No-Rank,” I said with a cocky smirk. “And I barely even broke a sweat.”
“You are an arrogant worm, aren’t you?” the mercenary leader scoffed. “It’ll make claiming your Duelist status for my own that much sweeter.”
“You wish to challenge me?” I shot back at him with a bark of laughter. “I’m not sure you wanna do that.”
“Oh, really?” the man sneered. “Why is that? Do you have special magical powers?”
“He’s been blessed by Mercedes in ways you can only imagine!” Zoie growled from her place by my side.
Number Three, who had been mostly silent up to that point, hissed at her and took a step forward in warning.
“I heard he ashed a demon so hard it vaporized into dust,” Number One continued, and I tried my hardest not to snort at the way his voice cracked. Whether it was from his young age or just fear, I didn’t know, but the sound made me think the image I was painting of myself was working.
“I might have heard that, too,” Number Two muttered.
“Shut up, all of you!” Anti-Hood yelled, and his less-than-impressive henchmen silenced. “You know what? Enough.”
“Are you challenging me, then?” I asked and flicked an invisible piece of lint off my shoulder as if this was all just a mild inconvenience. “Or do you need me to turn my back so you can try to ambush me again like a dishonorable coward?”
“I am no coward!” he raged and then ripped his hood off in a dramatic show. He was a normal looking man for the most part, but he was sporting a shock of bright orange hair that spiked up like some ridiculous tough bad guy in every anime ever.
He marched up and got in my face with a huff of his nasty onion smelling breath.
“I, Gul of Nata Isle, challenge you for your Duelist right, an’ to prove to you I am no coward, I am prepared to fight in your preferred way: hand-to-hand,” he said and then tossed the bow and matching quiver of arrows at my feet. “Go on, I’ve made it easy on you. Choose, if you think your skills are so good.”
“Bold,” I said like a spider to a fly, and I shook out my hands to loosen them up. I’d read about reverse psychology, but I never met someone stupid enough for fall for it, and I grinned. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, so I guess my choice of weapon is hand-to-hand.”
“Gul, take a moment to think about the consequences,” Number Two said with his arrow still aimed at Zoie.
“Not now, Horus!” the mercenary leader, Gul, snapped.
The orange-haired man cracked his knuckles and then raised an eyebrow at me as if saying “your turn.”
I cracked my neck from side to side. Gul was only a few inches taller than me, and I could tell he would be lighter on his feet than goliaths like Dagmar and Ren, so I needed to be as agile as possible. I removed my traveling cloak, the wide utility belt around my waist, and the sheathed sword and gave them all to Zoie to keep along with my pack.
“You are making a mistake,” I told him as I bounced in place.
“We shall see about that.” He rolled his shoulders and raised his fists, and Zoie and the MMRs swept off to the side to give us room on the narrow path.
We circled one another as we sized each other up from head to toe. Unlike Dagmar, Gul preferred to stay on the defensive, and he shuffled back each time I tried to get close enough to strike.
I jabbed at his sneering face, and he stepped back, so I advanced forward again with a cross, which he blocked easily. He was making me initiate the offensive, and it was frustrating as hell.
I struck out and landed a kick against his leg, and then I tried to follow through with a right hook.
Gul suddenly exploded into a fury of motion as he ducked under my swing, rammed me low in the gut, and slammed me against a tree.
“Argh!” I yelled as the orange-haired devil then tried to get a grip around my right knee so he could get me in a takedown. I roared and pounded at his arm to get him to release me, but he twined around my leg like a freaking octopus, and it was hard to pry him off.
He struggled to lift me off my feet, so I slammed him harder and harder with my right fist to try and at least weaken his python-like hold. I knew if he got me down I would probably be dead, so I braced my back even harder against the tree like it was the wall of a cage fight.
I roared and pounded even harder despite the bruising I could feel along the side of my fist. My hand was starting to go numb by it, but I pushed the sensation to the back of my mind.
After about three more good whacks, I could tell my sledgehammer efforts were beginning to work as his arm started to weaken. When there was enough of a gap between us, I hooked my left arm under his, twisted my hips, and broke his hold around my waist with a shove.
He spun away from me like a cue ball bouncing off the side of a pool table, and without missing a beat, I followed through with a powerful overhand to the side of Gul’s head.
Or, at least, I tried to, but the bastard was a lot faster than I was anticipating because he ducked, spun low, and then tried to nail me with a backhand when he jumped back to his feet.
There was a lot of power behind the strike, and if I hadn’t stepped back at the last second, I was sure he would have knocked my block off.
But I did step back, and Gul spun so hard he overbalanced when his powerful punch never made contact. He yelped as he whirled himself out of orbit and landed hard on his side.
I kicked him in the ribs, and he rolled toward the center of the path where all of our belongings were still sitting.
“Come here, bitch,” I said as I grabbed onto the back of his cloak.
“Argh!” Gul roared and flung a handful of dirt and rocks straight into my eyes.
“Alex!” I heard Zoie cry out as I stumbled back in pain.
The grit blurred my vision and stung like shards of broken glass, and I fell on the ground as I tried to wipe the dirt off my face.
A punch landed on the side of my head that felt like a battering ram. It sent me flying, and I rolled across the ground until I ended up on my back.
The tears streaming down my face worked to clear one of my eyes somewhat so I was able to see Gul’s incoming curb-stomp before it was too late. I tumbled out of the way so my face wouldn’t become pounded hamburger meat, and then I tried to get up as fast as I could.
“Oof!” I grunted as my feet became twisted up in Gul’s fucking bow and arrows, and I tripped in my half-blind state.
“Hah!” Gul shouted and side-kicked me so I would topple over once more.
The moment I was on my back again, he jumped on me like a rabid spider monkey.
“He has a dagger!” Zoie shouted right as Gul tried to drive said dagger into my chest.
I grabbed his forearms to stop the dagger from skewering me, and I heard how Zoie struggled on the sidelines as the Three Stooges held her back from interfering.
“You can’t do that!” she raged with a snarl. “The challenged picked hand-to-hand, you’re cheating!”
“I’m a vagabond thief, sweetheart.” A mad rictus stretched Gul’s scarred lips, which had the effect of making him look even more deranged. “Cheating is kind of the name of the game.”
He bore down harder, and my arm muscles trembled as the dagger came closer. I was in real trouble here, and if I didn’t think of something soon, I would be no better than a stuck pig.
I slammed my eyes closed and dug down deep for my time-trance power. It was just under the surface, I could feel it, but trying to keep the orange-haired bastard from stabbing me was sapping the majority of my focus.
I trained my inner ears onto the rapid beating of my heart and willed the rest of my mind silent.
“Die!” Gul growled, but his voice was far away as I let the ticking rise up from the depths of my subconscious.
Tick.
Time slowed, and Zoie screamed my name as the dagger in Gul’s hand got closer to piercing my heart.
Tick.
The points of his knees on either side of my hips stopped me from gaining any leverage to shove him off, and because my legs were still tangled, I was prevented from moving even an inch.
Tick.
My arms were getting fatigued trying to hold Gul back from plunging the sharp blade into my chest, and even though time was slowing down, it wasn’t really helping me out right now.
What I really needed was for time to just…
Ti--
All movement stopped just as I felt the tip of the dagger break the skin over my heart, and I gasped as my arms finally collapsed from their strain.
Gul didn’t move a muscle, and I stared at the odd sight of him hovering frozen in place while I used my hands to rip away the bow and quiver strap constricting my legs.
Once my feet and legs were free, I grabbed Gul’s wrists and pushed as hard as I could with a mighty roar.
The weird time-freeze shattered like a baseball through stained glass, and I launched the orange-haired bastard off me.
The dagger in his hand went flying as he landed on his back with a surprised yelp, and I wasted no time in snatching it up and then barreled toward the orange-haired piece of shit.
Without debating the morals and ethics of taking a person’s life like I did with Dagmar, this time I flipped the dagger around, jumped onto the fallen man, and plunged the dagger deep into his heart with both hands.
“Fuck you,” I growled as his life drained out of his chest like wine pouring from a bottle.
Gul gasped as scarlet blood bubbled up from his mouth, and he raised his hands so he could try to claw at me one last time before the light darkened in his manic eyes.
When I was sure he was good and dead, I stood up and whipped around to the other three mercs who were staring silently at me through their deep hooded cloaks.
“Well?” I yelled. “Anybody else?”
They didn’t make a move to answer me, so I took a step forward with a fierce scowl on my face. I still had the dagger in my hand, and I wouldn’t hesitate to spill more blood in any way possible if they decided to continue what their boss had started.