by Billy Wong
"Again, Edgy boy?" Boar asked bemusedly. "I understand the appeal of a pretty face, but you're supposed to be a professional. You can't go around sparing every girl who makes your snake happy. Calling yourself Edge? What a laugh, considering you have none."
"I thought you never failed to kill a target," Celia said.
Edge stomped the earth in frustration. "I didn't fail! I chose not to kill them, just like with you."
"So this happened more than once before..."
"So what if it has? Even if you say I'm a slave to the feelings of my snake, I'm proud to admit it."
Celia slapped her forehead. "If we get through this alive, I'll be sure to castrate you."
"You can't be serious!"
"Well, what will it be?" Spider asked, interrupting their exchange. "Will you step aside and leave the girl and reward to us, or will we have to kill you too?"
She looked pleadingly at Edge. "Please don't betray me. In all seriousness, I won't castrate you."
"I didn't spare you because of my snake anyway... I think. And don't worry." He drew his axes. "I've long wished for a chance to humble these two big idiots. Celia, you stand back. I'll take both of them on one after the other!"
"Stand back?! Didn't I do well enough against you for you to think me a worthy partner?"
He smiled. "I guess. But I'm your bodyguard, no? So relax and let me handle the situation. Although, you can intervene and hold one off if they try to double team me. "
Boar threw back his head and guffawed. "You trust that girl to hold up her end against one of us? That makes you even more of a fool, not that you'll be able to hold up either."
"Don't be so sure. I think you'll find I have plenty to offer. You accept my challenge, though? Fight me one on one, if you wish to prove you're still my 'superior' elders."
"Oh, I accept all right!" He ambled forward waving his mace back and forth. "It won't take a minute to put a whelp like you in your place, and the girl-"
"You overestimate yourself!" Edge lunged, slashing rapidly with one axe and then the other. The big man blocked and took a step back, eyes wide at the fury of his assault. Over and over Edge struck, unpredictably now as he attacked high, then low, then high, then high, then high, then finally low again. Often he swung one axe twice in a row or both at once in a double strike or crazy spin, dazzling Celia with his whirlwind movement. He seemed so much more impressive with both axes, she grew doubtful if she could beat him even in peak condition. At the least, she'd have to be even more cautious than normal.
Boar too appeared confounded, avoiding injury so far, but unable to find an opening to counterattack. "Stupid kid! Stop dancing around and fight me like a man!"
Edge laughed as he battered his larger foe back. "And how exactly does a 'man' fight? Need I point out I'm the one on offense and you on defense?" That would kind of imply Celia's style being feminine since it was largely defensive. But since she was a girl, she didn't really mind.
"This is a man's move!" Boar drew his mace back and lashed out with a great sweeping blow, hoping to catch Edge somewhere in its arc. Then his features twisted, and he gasped while a red stain bloomed on his shirt. He had missed with his mighty swing, giving Edge an opportunity to gash his flank in the process. "You stupid little—ow, shit..."
Spider tried to interfere, stabbing with the halberd he pulled off his back at Edge from the side. Celia jumped in to deflect his thrust and backed him up with a slash. "What do you know," she said to her self-styled bodyguard, "looks like it was inevitable we'd both have to fight."
"And how is that my fault? It's them who can't honor their word and fight like men."
"Men fight to win!" Spider spat as he thrashed his halberd about with a fury which drove Celia back. Somewhere off to the side, the clanging and grunting of Edge and Boar's duel continued. "I'll kill you first, and then we'll punish the edgeless one for his impudence." He made a daunting opponent, she had to admit. His polearm negated the reach advantage her sword gave over most, and he could move it around fast. Being a seasoned assassin, she doubted he would fall for her feinting weakness either. She stopped retreating and parried, testing his strength. The clash hurt her fingers, and she didn't see any reaction of his to indicate similar discomfort. Damn, she'd held out hope they would be more evenly matched due to his lack of bulk. "You look worried," he said.
"I'm not." She plowed forward, ignoring the pain in her hands and loosening of her grip collisions between their weapons caused. One might favor a defensive style, but there were certain times when you needed to go on offense. She managed to push him back, yet he gave way rather nonchalantly like he didn't feel very threatened.
He guarded against a heavy chop without much effort and kicked her in the thigh, making her hop. With her balance momentarily disrupted, his next blocked blow sent her reeling back. "You feel weak, little girl."
"You're probably stronger than me," she admitted. "But does the stronger always win?"
"You're weaker, shorter, lighter, less experienced, and less skilled. And I don't see any speed advantage for you."
Celia ran at him again, not voicing a denial of anything he said. Yet she didn't give up. She pounded away at his guard, even if her pounding might be as taps from a feather to him. Well, that was probably selling herself short. In the middle of a frantic exchange, sweat pouring down her face and neck, the tip of his halberd drew a thin red line across her chest. Close call. As she snarled, he kicked at her again.
She intercepted his kick with one of her own, her heavy boot splitting his kneecap with a loud crack. He hobbled backward with a shocked look, and she stabbed at his face. He leaned away, just avoiding it. But she had let go of her hilt with one hand, and throwing her weight forward punched him with everything she had in the throat. He might be bigger and stronger than her, but not by enough to make a difference here. He dropped on his butt, choking and gagging. She gripped her sword in both hands again and whipped it from right to left in a horizontal cut. Blood jetted as Spider's head tumbled on the dirt.
"More skilled might be debatable," she said.
Edge and Boar still fought nearby, the former's advantage having diminished. He must only be able to keep up the breakneck pace for so long, as now both men looked tired and warily circled one another. Boar swung his mace, missing by a good foot, and Edge's sloppy counter fell just as short. Celia shook her head and walked closer. Edge dropped Boar to one knee with a jumping double axe strike, but Boar then swatted his legs out from under him. Before he could do anything else, Celia slashed through the burly assassin's mace arm. He shouted in pain grabbing the stump, then she clubbed him in the temple with her pommel and laid him out.
"What happened to us being the honorable ones?" Edge asked. "Besides, I was winning."
"You might have won. Or he might've ended up flattening your skull. Anyway, I'm a merchant. I'm not here to fight honorable duels."
He glanced at Spider's corpse. "Too bad you feel that way, because you sure can fight." He looked back to Boar. "Now what are we going to do with him?"
"Why are you asking me? You're the assassin."
"Yeah, but..."
He probably thought she might have qualms about finishing off a helpless man. "If we let him live and he meets any other assassins, he'll probably tell them about us. So you decide what to do with your old friend."
Boar stirred and moaned. "Please," he said raising his remaining hand in supplication, "don't you remember how Spider and I taught you to play cards? For old times' sake, let me live."
"He's not my friend." As to prove his words, Edge knelt and slit the man's throat with his axe.
Celia crossed her arms. "So you are an assassin after all. Let's hide these bodies and move on, then."
#
After covering Boar and Spider with rocks in a makeshift cairn, the pair resumed their trek. Celia had twisted her knee a bit when Spider shoved her off balance, but stretching her leg now and then to relieve the stiffness was able to hide it f
rom Edge. While she wiped sweat from her forehead, she remarked, "So amazingly effective this oven costume turned out to be."
"We got found out because they knew me. It isn't the cloak that failed you." She gave him an annoyed look, and he spread his hands. "What are you angry with me for? You're the one who brilliantly claimed I was a prisoner when I wasn't restrained in any way. It's not like I was obligated to spare you either, and now I'm waist deep in trouble for it."
She exhaled. "Thanks for not killing me due to me looking good. Anyway, I'm not mad at you. I'm admittedly just flustered over this whole thing. When I set out for this trip, I wasn't expecting to be marked for death by numerous assassins."
"That's... understandable I guess. You handle it well."
"Even considering my moodiness? I genuinely thank you for that."
After a brief pause, he said, "You take easily to maiming and killing for a merchant, though."
"Stop it with the 'for a merchant' type talk! Since when does being a merchant make one weak? These aren't even the first times I've killed. A lone girl traveling around has to defend herself, and if that means bloodshed, so be it."
"I would definitely not argue against that. But you act so unaffected by it, even doing it to a helpless man. I'm an assassin, I've killed dozens of people so it's nothing out of the ordinary for me. You, though, slaughter isn't your job. Even if you've done it before, how many times could you have? You're pretty young too. It's strange to me how inured you seem to murder."
She shrugged. "I'm not really inured. I find ending a life quite unsettling to think about, after the fact. I wonder if my life really outweighs all the ones I've taken, even if I might kill for more justified reasons. But in the times when I have to, I don't philosophize, I just do. Because I will let nothing keep me from my goal."
He gazed curiously at her. "And what would that goal be?"
"To be a good merchant and successor to my father. Can't do that if you're dead, of course."
Edge grinned. "You're rather unique. If I survive this unexpected partnership, I certainly won't forget you."
A couple thankfully uneventful days later, Celia stared as the wood bridge they had used to cross the ravine came into view. It was destroyed, a huge chunk of the middle gone making it completely unusable. "What the hell happened here?" she snapped.
"How should I know?"
"I wasn't really asking you. But shit, there goes our route back to town."
He took on an anxious look. "Is there another way across?"
"Of course. I'd think that would be a stupid place to build a monastery otherwise." She took out the map from her pack, unfolded it and frowned. "Although, the next crossing is fairly far off. We'll have to pass through the arts town of Lideje which spans both sides a ways east, and take a few more days to get back."
"But that means the infected citizens..."
More of them would die, in all likelihood. "It can't be helped. Let's just hurry up, and try not to waste any more time than we have to."
He hung his head. After a while, he said, "I suppose if we're going to Lideje, we'll at least have the opportunity to get a change of clothes."
"Yeah, maybe if we polish your ruffian self up enough, people won't immediately recognize you. And I could do with a better disguise than this holy hotbox."
"Why don't you like that cloak? It looks good on you, and maybe it'll bring favorable luck considering it's blessed by God."
Celia rolled her eyes, though he probably didn't see it given her hood. "Hot. Very, very hot."
Chapter 3
Elly turned this way and that inside the cramped changing room, not able to stretch her arms out as much as she'd like while she tested the fit of the dress she considered. She heard her friend Lynn's muffled voice from outside. "Are you going to be finished soon? We need to get going."
Ugh... there was still a pile of untouched garments stacked in the corner, but she supposed it probable they would have the same issues as the other ones from this store she had tried on so far. "All right, I'm coming." She worked to get the dress off, struggling to pull her arms out of the sleeves they had been stuffed into without tearing them. Darn, why did so many fashionable women's clothes insist on being so tight? She loved looking pretty, grooming herself and dressing up, but sometimes felt a tad jealous towards men for their more comfortable wardrobe choices. Male clothes didn't seem as designed to restrict their wearer's movement, at least not most of them. But then again, men weren't able to wear as great a variety of colors without getting stares, and their garments tended to lack flair like ribbons and frilly hems. All things considered, girls still had the edge.
She finally managed to get the dress off, folded it neatly and placed it atop the pile. Emerging in her own clothes with the bundle in her arms, she said to Lynn, "You're rushing me too now? And to think, I brought you out here because I thought you would share my appreciation of a fun shopping trip."
The thin ponytailed girl shook her head. "You know I do. But I finished trying on the things I wanted to twenty minutes ago, and you still have seven more stores on your list. Since you snuck away without telling Cyril, we should probably hurry up. Why did we have to ditch him, anyway? I'm sure he's willing to accompany you if you ask."
"He would, but then he'd whine constantly and keep rushing me. You know, like you are now."
Lynn gave a halfhearted laugh. "Does he really whine? I've never heard him do so."
"I guess he doesn't outright complain. But listen to how he sounds after asking 'Are you ready?' a few times. He doesn't even bother to hide the aggravation in his voice."
"You do often take rather long. I can understand as a woman, but for a man..."
Elly shrugged. "It's not like he has to come if he doesn't want to. He just insists on doing so whenever he knows I'm going somewhere. So today, he gets to have a break."
"I'm not sure he wants-"
The store owner's twenty-something son in a silk jacket interrupted them. Kind of rude for someone so sharply dressed, but youthful impatience could be forgiven. "I see you are finally done. Is there anything you've decided to purchase?"
"No," Elly said handing her bundle to him, "everything's too tight. I understand that a lot of women like 'form fitting' clothes these days, and men also like women in them, but a variety of options would be helpful."
"Your... candor is appreciated." He looked nervous. "I'll suggest to Father that we look into different fits for..."
They left the store, Elly looking forward to their next destination down the street. She'd heard it was a bigger store, which gave her hope there would be a better variety. "My feet hurt from walking in these heels. Maybe we should take a horse-drawn cab."
"It would take too long to wait for a cab," Lynn said. "It's only a few blocks, you can make it."
They chatted for a bit about what trendy fashions they most looked forward to trying out before Elly mused, "I'm glad you found something you like at the last shop. Otherwise, this would be a disappointing day so far. Was there really only one dress you fancied, though? A few of them were really pretty on you."
She averted her gaze. "Well, you know I can't afford as much."
"Don't worry about nonsense like that! We're out here to have fun, if you see something you want I'll pay for you."
"Elly, I just don't know if that's..."
"Hold on. Was it me or did a church knight just go into that high class store with some vagabond?"
Lynn nodded. "Yes, I saw that too. It is quite odd, though you can't know for sure his companion is a vagabond."
"In any case, he looked the part." She smiled with amusement. "That's our next stop anyway, so I guess we'll get to see if anything interesting happens."
As they stepped into a spacious dream of a main room with row after row of clothing racks, they saw the heavy-cloaked church knight and companion were already having some trouble. A formally dressed mustached gentleman, no doubt an employee if not the owner, had intercepted them shor
tly after entering. "My apologies, Sir Knight, but as a more upscale business there are certain standards of decorum that our customers expect. With the sincere hope you do not take offense, I would respectfully ask that your associate exit the premises."
"But we're here to try and make him more presentable in the first place," the knight said in a surprisingly high, almost sultry voice. "How can you expect him to improve himself, if others won't give him a chance to?"
"I am sorry. There are no doubt places which will be more accepting of his ilk, and if he is cleaned up first, there will probably be even more open to him."
"Ah, well, I suppose cleaning you up might be a good start." The knight grasped the vagabond's arm and tried to lead him away. The young ruffian resisted a bit at first, perhaps irritated at being looked down upon, but then relented. As the two walked towards her and Lynn, Elly weighed whether she should approach them. They might want to be left alone, and hadn't done anything wrong that she knew. However, her curiosity got the best of her.
Just before the duo would have passed, she said softly to the church knight, "You're not a man, are you?"
#
Celia blinked at the short, fluffy-gowned young woman who had just called her out in a high pitched voice. She looked the picture of affluent vanity, slightly chubby, hair curled, nails varnished, clothing full of unnecessary patterns and decorations. All those ribbons—did she really think that made her cute? A much plainer looking girl in a maid-like dress stood at her side. "What makes you think that?"
"Your voice, not to mention the way you move. I mean, you don't have the most feminine gait, but I can still see a difference."
"And if you're right?"
"I've heard of female church knights, but they are certainly rare." She waved a hand, multiple rings shining upon small fingers. "To have become one, you must be quite the accomplished warrior."