Demi Heroes

by Andrew Lynch

  Darrius went in for another exchange, all flashy swords and fancy footwork, just like the last dozen the fighters had made. Unlike the last exchanges, this time, he stumbled backwards. Maybe there was a rock there, maybe nothing, but whatever happened, it was enough for even a low-on-blood, half-dead duellist to take advantage of.

  Tunney stabbed his sword at Darrius' chest. It raked along several ribs until piercing beneath the bone.

  It didn’t run him through, but it was the kind of wound that could kill a man.

  The shock hit Darrius' face. He dropped his sword and grabbed at his chest.

  Tunney saw his chance for revenge, released his own sword, grabbed Darrius' head with both hands, and forehead met face with a wet, crunching slap.

  Darrius crumpled to the floor and Tunney followed him down, landing jabs and swings at the newly formed hole in Darrius' chest.

  Gar jumped to his feet, charging into the ring, unable to watch his friend die. Jess stood, ready for whatever might happen.

  Lucian joined them, but more for moral support. His hands were still tied.

  Armed bandits were hot on Gar’s trail, but Tunney had seen the coming situation and backed off, sword in front of him again. Gar had no intention of attacking Tunney. His motivations were purely for Darrius' welfare.

  Sunlight glinted on steel in the corner of Lucian’s vision. Every weapon in the camp had been drawn.

  Gar, unfazed by the naked steel, set to work on Darrius. Hands probing, he made Darrius' discarded shirt into a makeshift bandage.

  The bandits closed in, cautiously. Tunney held up his hand and they all came to a stop. “Held up his hand” may have been a bit generous owing to the gaping wound at his side. ‘Duel’s not done. Only at two points each and no one’s dead. Yet.’

  Weapons were hastily sheathed, as if they had only been drawn out of some herd instinct, or sense of duty. Everyone was sensible enough to avoid a fight if not possible. Apart from Tunney, of course.

  ‘Gar?’ Lucian asked.

  ‘He live. Need rest. No fight.’

  ‘He can forfeit if he wants,’ Tunney said, cleaning his sword. ‘I can kill him in the ring, fighting, stood tall like a man should be. Or I can kill him on his knees, cowed.’

  ‘I have a third option,’ Lucian said, his eyes fixed on the leader. He couldn’t stop a smile from creeping across his face. Hadn’t let him down yet!

  ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn,’ Tunney said with a slightly demented grin at the killing he was about to do.

  ‘You see, I pride myself on my observational ability.’ Gar and Jess rolled their eyes. Even Darrius, who was barely conscious, was still aware enough to know things weren’t about to get better if Lucian chose to say that. ‘The leader has deferred all decisions to you, Tunney. So, I guess, you’re the real man in charge here.’

  Tunney took a bow, but then couldn’t stand back up from the pain. ‘You’ve caught me. Leading through fear is a valid managerial approach.’

  Lucian heard weapons being unsheathed again as the bandits noticed his plan.

  ‘But you’re a bloodthirsty killer through and through.’ Tunney nodded and grinned, allowing Lucian to continue. ‘As the base camp for a large crime syndicate, you’ve alluded to the fact that there’s a surprising amount of paperwork, correct?’

  ‘Sadly, yes.’ Tunney was now focused on Lucian, wondering where he was going with this.

  ‘Paperwork is beneath you, clearly, so you’re the leader in only the most technical of senses. The man on the chair, he takes care of all of that for you, doesn’t he?’

  Tunney agreed, if only to help Lucian get to his point.

  ‘What would happen if I killed him?’

  One of the bandits tried to interrupt the conversation, but Tunney silenced them with a look. ‘Just replace him. No big deal,’ Tunney said with a shrug. ‘Of course, he’s always pointing out that it’s not just being good with numbers and stuff, there’s more to it and he’s not replaceable. I’m pretty sure he says that just so I don’t kill him when his silly little quirks get in my way. According to him, the entire syndicate would be lost almost overnight if we lost his communication network.’

  ‘That... was an awfully comprehensive answer. Thanks.’ Lucian said, a bit baffled by so much exposition.

  ‘Besides, you’re tied up without a weapon. How would you kill him?’

  ‘With a nod,’ Lucian said.

  Tunney paused. ‘I don’t get it.’

  ‘You’re supposed... just... just look at him.’

  Tunney turned his whole body, unable to swivel due to the wound at his side. He saw what everyone else saw.

  ‘So let’s assume for a moment that what he says is true.’ Lucian began, ‘If he dies, you lose everything. You’ll be just another bloodthirsty murderer, back on the streets. Got enough of those already, and this one would be crippled for months by a wound he just took from a duel.’ Lucian tried not to, but he was feeling pretty happy with this outcome and couldn’t keep the grin from his face. ‘Probably get yourself into trouble before you’ve healed. End up dying in a gutter, if I had to guess.’

  ‘Shit.’ It was the appropriate response for Tunney’s situation, and he delivered it perfectly.

  ‘Cut him loose!’ Khleb growled from behind the glorified project manager. ‘My hand is getting sweaty, and jugulars have a tendency to get slit when that happens.’

  Chapter 16

  It turned out that when a single life can bring down a crime syndicate, and you had a very sharp object at that life’s throat, you could get a good deal of things you need. And speedily.

  The wolf had turned up, skulking out of the trees as the team left the bandit camp. Worryingly, it took a few nips at Darrius until Gar stared it down. When it came to defending Darrius, Gar could have out-stared an inanimate object, so the wolf had no chance.

  Darrius lay in a cart, kindly provided by the bandits, sleeping.

  The team had picked a spot several kilometres away from the bandit camp, covered their tracks, and waited. They spent their time eating well and resting. It may not have been luxury, but it gave them time to set up a decent camp, tend to Darrius in the first crucial hours of his injury, and try to teach the wolf to play fetch.

  The wolf understood the concept, she just refused to do it.

  It took two nights until Jess, who was on watch at the time, saw Moxar pass them. The Aviq was not present. Lucian, Jess, and Khleb headed back to the bandit camp for the next part of the job. The first half had required Khleb to plant information, pointing Moxar in the right direction. As it turned out, that had been easy enough, and accomplished even before the leader’s hostage negotiations had begun.

  On their return to the bandit camp, they found what they expected. Most of the tents had been burned down, and corpses lay where humans had fallen. The carrion birds had already begun their work. As artistic as it looked right now, by the time tourists came through this part, the smell would be unbearable. It needed to be cleared.

  They had all done this type of clean up dozens of times before. Load everything that could decompose to a viscous sludge - and smell worse than Khleb after a night out scandaling - onto a wagon, take it off the beaten path a few kilometres, and burn it.

  Lucian picked up a stray arm and chucked it on to a wagon that had conveniently been left undamaged. This job was hard to do if you were squeamish.

  Khleb was complaining because these bandits seemed rather legitimately “bandits” and so had nothing of any value to loot.

  ‘Shouldn’t a crime syndicate run by an evil master have a bit more wealth?’ Khleb complained.

  Lucian felt that was a bit rich coming from someone who had stolen lead from a roof. Somehow Kleb had managed to sell the dense, poisonous metal. He had found someone who wanted a way to beat their brother to death, or perhaps poison him, and hadn’t quite decided which method to use at the time. Just one of many tales Khleb would rattle off around the campfire.

>   Jess seemed livid that she had been chosen to do cleanup work, but again, Lucian wasn’t sure if that was just her general stance on life. Lividness. A constant state of lividity. Interspersed with boredom.

  To make her feelings quite clear, she was half heartedly poking several limbs in the general direction of the wagon with her staff.

  ‘Do you think anyone survived?’ Lucian asked.

  Jess skewered a liver with her staff, and flung it in his general direction. ‘They would all have died from alcohol poisoning soon if that was anything to go by. No great loss.’

  Sure enough, the liver shaped blur that flew past him did seem a bit blacker than it probably should have been.

  ‘Did they all need to die?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jess said.

  ‘Let me finish,’ said Lucian. ‘The brooch we planted in the cave was vague enough that he couldn’t just go straight to wherever the villain, dark lord, or whatever, is. But with this being the first place along the way that shared the bandit’s clothes from the cave... well, he was bound to come here, and interrogate the leader to find out where the dark lord resides, right?

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘Well, Moxar’s a Hero. A man who killed a dragon the size of a city. Well, a slightly drugged dragon, at least.’

  ‘Drugged dragon?’ Jess perked up a bit.

  ‘Nothing. But he killed the city dragon single-handedly, so a scrappy group of bandits hardly seems like he’d be in much danger. Did he really need to massacre them all?’

  ‘An arrow would pierce his heart as sure as yours, Lucian.’ Jess went back to laboriously nudging corpses.

  Somehow Lucian didn’t see himself being as resilient as a Hero. At least, the idea of a single arrow to the heart… no, Moxar would probably pull through.

  ‘He could have gotten himself captured and taken to their leader, which does seem to be standard operating procedure for these bandits, and then only had to deal with a few guards.’

  ‘That is... actually a good plan,’ Jess said, a bit shocked to hear herself using the words “good plan” in relation to Lucian.

  ‘Hey, I always have good plans! Anyway, why kill everyone? Is that really something a Hero would do?’

  Jess stopped tending her crop of arms. ‘Are you saying Moxar is not a Hero because he killed bandits?’

  ‘Seems a bit indiscriminate is all.’ Lucian scratched his head, then realised he was using someone else’s hand, and threw it in the pile.

  ‘Stopping a major crime syndicate that had ties to a God-killing dark lord, and which held an entire compass direction of the Empire in its corrupt grip, is not heroic?’ Jess asked. ‘This would have been the end battle for a lesser Hero.’

  ‘Well... I guess that’s true, yeah.’ Lucian picked up a head of long hair. It was the woman that had revealed herself as a major Darrius fan. Josie. ‘What about her?’

  ‘Who’s that? I find telling you humans apart difficult at the best of times. Bodiless and covered in mud, blood, and probably other internal fluids does not help.

  Lucian jogged her memory. ‘What if she was just doing this to pay the bills. Had a child at home and a loving husband?’

  ‘She chose to become a bandit. A risk of the job.’

  ‘She could probably make triple the pay doing this job over being a bar wench. Is it her fault she was born into a certain class?’ Lucian argued. ‘If you offer someone more money and a way out of poverty by doing something dangerous, you can’t blame them for taking it.’

  ‘Idealistic nonsense,’ Jess said dismissively.

  Lucian was about to continue, when Khleb popped out from behind a tent.

  ‘Moot point, boss,’ Khleb chimed in, dragging a chest towards Lucian. A wooden chest. A trunk. Not a human chest, just to be clear. ‘Found a live one.’

  He dropped the chest at Lucian’s feet, and sure enough, there was a muffled voice and the sound of banging coming from inside.

  ‘Don’t jump to conclusions. It could be an evil spirit. You never know what may be lying around a bandit camp.’

  ‘Oh, no, boss. I put him in there,’ Khleb said cheerily.

  ‘Why did you put a human into a chest? Did this happen just now? Why didn’t we hear anything.’

  ‘You know how it is, just kind of happened that way. Saw him trying to get away, I was checking the chest for valuables, he ended up in the chest,’ Khleb said, seeing nothing wrong with this. Then he pondered the second question and shrugged. ' ‘Cos I’m sneaky, I guess. Dunno.’

  Lucian drew his sword and held it ready. Jess took a passing interest as she felt was required of her - but Lucian suspected that was only because she didn’t want to have to explain to Gar and Darrius why she’d let the others die. Too many words, and no doubt she’d have to listen to complaints. She was very practical that way.

  Lucian gave the nod, universally known to be the sign to open the pot of worms. A delicacy in some regions.

  ‘You okay, boss?’ Khleb asked.

  ‘I gave the nod, come on.’

  ‘Oh, right. I thought you were feeling a bit sleepy. Nodding off, you know.’

  Lucian sighed and told Khleb to, ‘Just open it already.’

  A wiry individual popped up, pen in hand, crossing Lucian’s sword. It was the leader - the bandit accountant - his vibrant red clothes significantly muddier than when he’d last been seen.

  ‘Blast!’ the man shouted. ‘They always say the pen is mightier than the sword, but I’m not seeing it.’

  ‘I think they're speaking metaphorically,’ Lucian said.

  ‘Dunno,’ said Khleb. ‘I’ve heard of one particular guy killing an entire king’s guard using just a pen.’

  ‘Unfortunately, I’m not a trained assassin.’ The leader held up his pen. ‘I don’t think putting your requisition request to the back of the pile is going to do the trick right now.’

  Khleb took the offered pen carefully. Just in case. Khleb didn’t really understand words, so he definitely wouldn’t take any chances with something that created them.

  ‘We've got questions,’ Lucian said, waving his sword in the most menacing way he could. It looked more flamboyant than menacing. To menace, one needs to poke. He had swished.

  Still, not much was needed to get a bureaucrat to talk. A pot of tea would probably have been more effective, Lucian thought. Tell him it’s a tea break but he’s still on the clock.

  ‘No need for that. I'll tell you everything. I somehow survived last night, and I'd like to keep that kind of luck going.’

  ‘Good to hear. First, we do have a job to do here, so, Jess, I think Khleb and I can handle this.’ Jess threw her hands up as she turned around and went back to work. ‘Okay. Why are you alive?’

  ‘You see, thirty two years ago, my parents—'

  Lucian poked his sword in the general direction. ‘Leave the just been captured, snarky comments to the Heroes.’

  The leader gave a little shriek at the idea of getting a cut from something worse than paper, and carried on. ‘A demon burst into the camp last night. He’d already killed all the sentries so there were no reinforcements. Your man had taken Tunney out of action, and he was the best swordsman in the camp. I did the only thing I could. I hid.’

  ‘That was no demon, that was Moxar Lightshield,’ said Lucian.

  ‘Could have fooled me. I’ve met a few demons, you see. They didn’t kill nearly as many people as this Moxar of yours.’

  Lucian surveyed the scene of the slaughter. Sorry, heroic battle. ‘There don’t seem to be many places to hide from the natural skill of a Hero trying to weed out... weeds, like yourself.’

  ‘All right, no need for inflammatory comments. The demon—'

  ‘Let’s just call him Moxar.’

  ‘Fine. Moxar seemed drawn to the main tent. That’s exactly where I was. Certainly wherever I end up next, I'll put myself in a small unadorned tent off to the side. I suppose the gold leaf was a bit much, wasn’t it? Anyway, he’s charging straight fo
r me, so I run out the back. Of course I keep on running assuming that he’s going to blow clean though the tent and hunt me down. But he doesn’t. Turns out this dem... Moxar, was attracted to this very chest.’ He rapped the side of the chest to show how sturdy it was, but Lucian knew that if it had survived Moxar rummaging through it, it had already proved itself.

  ‘Uhh, boss?’

  ‘In the middle of something.’ Lucian dismissed him, but then thought better of it, recalling that actually Khleb had been proving rather useful recently. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘What about the bird man? When he says demon, maybe he means him, and Moxar never actually passed this way?’

  Lucian was a bit shocked by this insight. ‘That’s possibly... Well? Was this “demon” of yours a large birdman... I mean, Aviq?’

  ‘No. Definitely took a human form, this one.’

  ‘Did you see an Aviq at some point? Uhh, large bird looking creature.’ Lucian asked.

  ‘No, no. Just this Moxar of yours.’

  ‘They must have parted ways,’ Lucian said to Khleb.

  Khleb shrugged, seeing no issue with not having to worry about the scary bird creature anymore. ‘Oh well. It would be interesting to know what happens between the times we see them, boss.’

  ‘True. But no matter, he was an unexpected addition, so his loss shouldn’t be a big deal. I hope.’ Considering his entire purpose in the group was tactics and leadership, Lucian should probably have given this more thought. ‘Anyway. You just said you ran away. Why are you back?’

  ‘You see, us “bad guys” as you call us, pretty evil bunch, really. So I came back to loot the dead. Makes sense, right?’

  The leader’s eyes kept darting towards a certain tent.

  ‘I will actually cut you with my sword, you know?’ Lucian said, leaning on his sword with its point stabbed into the ground. He realised as he was leaning on it that he missed his hatchet. Surely he could find one lying around.

  ‘Fine, fine. I came back for... sentimental reasons.’ He shrugged as if just admitting it made him uncomfortable. ‘Not very evil of me, I know. Then I hid again when I heard you all rummaging about.’