Bounty

by Harper Alexander

  It was a glaringly blatant warning regardless of the pointless sugar coating she lathered on.

  “Why would you pay me in advance? Why would you single me out and appoint me? I’m sure the price you set will encourage a fairly sufficient job of things without my help. In fact, why don’t you just…snap your sparking fingers and do it yourself,” Godren suggested, placing his hands on her desk and rising to see himself out. What was in his head, that he was acting so boldly?

  “But I like you, Godren. I want a relationship with Raven City’s most wanted. Like I said, I’m a businesswoman. Relationships pay. And you wouldn’t be getting such a bad deal yourself, you know. Think about it. You’re a Most Wanted in danger, every day, of being caught by the law. I’m a Most Wanted that the law cannot touch. The safety here is absolute. You won’t find it anywhere else.”

  Despite the explanations she offered, Godren still thought she must be at least partially driven by a fear that he would one day rise to or past her own infamous level of power in crime. Whether she was jealous of the shadow of competition he would cast over her business or afraid of the threat he would present as a more powerful figure toward her life, he could not say. But she had to meter people like him, he knew. It had always been the key to her continuing success and survival.

  What Mastodon offered was, of course, a tempting thing. Safety so absolute could not be found anywhere else. But really, considering the good points of the deal was not going to be the deciding factor of this matter. Mastodon offered them so he could think he’d made the choice himself, but it was the blade poised to take him out should he refuse that ultimately gave him no choice at all.

  “What if I don’t want safety?” Godren asked. “What if I’m not afraid of danger?”

  “Not afraid of danger?”

  “I’m a criminal ace, Mastodon. Or so the rumors say, and so you suggest.. I thought it would be apparent that I’m not afraid of them catching me.”

  “The bounty hunters did.”

  “And they fed me quite well to keep me alive and healthy as the law specifies I must be. What makes you so sure I did not want that? As you so tauntingly like to say” – he shrugged – “maybe that’s what I wanted.”

  “As a criminal ace, you can steal your own food, Godren.”

  “But I don’t have to,” he pointed out.

  She considered him, eyes narrowed dryly. “What’s the purpose of being an ace if you do everything the easy way, ay? So you got caught on purpose, did you? To indulge in the luxury of your care-bound captors.”

  “That is why I am not in your debt for rescuing me, and that is why your offering of safety does not tempt me. If you want a relationship, it will have to be based on something else.” He was bluffing, but there was always the chance that it would work, if he played his cards correctly. Or maybe he had to just get lucky, but it was still possible. He at least did not want to go down on the record as easily defeated.

  Suddenly, he had an idea. “A haven here does not interest me, but perhaps I would settle for peace between us.”

  It was Mastodon’s turn to blink. Godren had to continue before she got suspicious. By claiming to ‘settle’ for peace, he hoped she would see it as less than she offered him, because it was the same basic agreement just minus her protection. But of course, he could use that peace to his advantage wherever he went, in more ways than he could put the restricting walls of her ‘haven’ to use. It would have been a prison to him, and this way, he would be free. He had to be free. He would never escape the criminal lifestyle and identity if he clung to Mastodon’s domain. She could not know he ultimately wanted to escape this life for better things, though, and that offered hope that she might not find fault with his conditions.

  On the other hand, he had made it look like he was getting less, and it did look suspicious to suddenly change his mind about murder for less benefit. How to smooth that over…

  “But I don’t want to murder,” he said gravely. “I will protect you until the vice is done away with, and I will catch them if I must, but I will not hunt them down and stab them in the back.” There. Now it appeared they were both getting slightly less than they had set out for, but that was how business went, after all. You aimed high and left room for bargaining, so you still came away with a profit in the end. Hopefully, offering his protection would seem like a more superior relationship than his mere business, and Mastodon wouldn’t be able to refuse.

  “Peace between us,” she mused. “An arrangement where I refrain from tampering with you and yours, I stay out of meddling with your affairs except in the case of another bargain, and you will do the same in turn?”

  “In addition to this job,” Godren confirmed, hoping that edge would convince her. It shouldn’t look suspicious now; she expected to be feared enough to be treated to extra investments of insurance. And it should be plenty tempting if his suspicions about her own fears were correct. She would let him go free, but he would have agreed to stay out of her affairs. That was a bargain in itself, the one she might have secretly been fishing for, but doing this job for her, with minor deviations to satisfy him, would let them both keep their secrets while getting what they both wanted.

  “I will have to write up new contracts,” Mastodon said, leaning toward agreeing. “But mind you, I know you are not a businessman, and I do not trust papers to hold you. You are a criminal, and deal in blood. So you will sign in blood.”

  That simple act did not bother him. He wrote in blood often enough anyway. But he knew she was a sorceress, and offering his blood signature would bind him to the agreement physically, regardless of where he went or how far away he got. He wasn’t precisely sure what would happen to him if he broke the agreement, but it wouldn’t be pretty.

  No matter. He had no plans of bringing Mastodon down, or crossing her in any way. He’d never even considered such a thing. Criminals and their games did not interest him; in truth, he was rather wary of such things. He was a criminal himself only because he had been ironically forced, and was here in this room only because he was good at being one.

  “You will have my signature in blood,” Godren granted.

  Mastodon considered everything again very carefully. Then she made up her mind.

  “Done.”

  3: An Old Friend

  The first full moon of winter shone significantly in the sky, drawing Godren to the tavern on the eastern edge of town. He had a reunion to honor tonight, one he honored every year at the same time – or roughly the same time, depending on when the full moon fell. It marked another year since he had come to Raven City, another year since he had seen the loyal friend that came with him that fateful night. A year was a long time between friends – too long. But it was safer that way, less likely that they would be recognized as the pair that fled Wingbridge accused of horrible things. That they had fled to none less than the capital city to escape the law might seem a fool’s choice, but it was the only place for miles around sufficiently large and eventful enough to hide them. Of course, it wasn’t as if they were not wanted for other crimes now, and recognition tying them to the initial wrong probably wouldn’t have made much difference. But it was easier to run by yourself – or at least easier to keep up with only yourself, because having someone by your side to watch your back did admittedly have its advantages, but it was too easy to lose each other in the heat of a dark chase.

  Entering the Wing’s Edge, Godren kept his head down. There was a large enough crowd – and plenty disreputable – to hide him in its midst, but it never hurt to be prudent.

  He spotted Sethos in the corner, a tankard of ale before him. Making his way through the rowdy gathering, Godren slid into a seat across from his friend.

  “Ren!” Sethos beamed. “You’re late.”

  “What number is this?” Godren asked, indicating his tankard.

  “Twenty-six.”

  “I’m not that late. The moon is still out, Seth. You can’t have had more than a dozen by now.”
>
  “You’re right, of course. It’s really only my first.” He sighed. “You know I can’t drink, Ren. It just looks suspicious to come in and sit down without ordering anything.”

  “Who knows, you could have changed your mind about indulging over the year,” Godren pointed out. “It’s a rough business; one of these days, I imagine you’ll take it up.”

  “Do you want it?” Sethos asked, pushing the tankard across the table. Its contents lapped at the sides. The rafters of the tavern reflected on its surface.

  “Not particularly. I’m into thinking clearly these days.”

  “Precisely my point. I’m too paranoid about making one drunken mistake, and then the guards will be on me so fast they’ll bust through those overly stiff uniforms of theirs.”

  “Have any close calls lately?”

  He shook his head, subdued rather than glad. “I’m getting too good at this,” he said gravely. “You?”

  “I’ve been in the custody of nearly a dozen different bounty hunters over the past few weeks.”

  “Bloody drat, really? They’re fighting over you, or what?”

  “Tirelessly.”

  “How’d you get caught?”

  “Sprained my bloody ankle during a chase,” Godren said humorlessly.

  “Brilliance doesn’t remedy a foul case of simple science, eh?”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  “So how’d you escape?” Sethos wanted to know, taking a sip of the unwanted ale as someone walked by, just for show.

  “Ossen rescued me.”

  Sethos choked, sputtering into his mug. Blinking at Godren, he wiped his chin. “That spiteful rosy fellow?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Stupid petal-brain.”

  “I appreciate the relief that I’m alright,” Godren remarked wryly.

  “Well shoot, Ren. Of course I’m relieved. But that sweet-smelling backstabber really gets on my nerves. He had no business rescuing you, whether you needed it or not. He has ulterior motives, just you watch.”

  “He would have killed me if it had been his choice, Seth.”

  “His choice!” Sethos scoffed. “Everything he does is his bloody, pretty-smelling choice, Ren. He wouldn’t answer to anyone. The rules are ‘one man for himself’, and he lives by that with all the selfishness in the world.”

  “He’d answer to Mastodon.”

  Sethos went still. He might have even turned just a little bit pale. “The hairy elephant?” he asked with comical seriousness. “Miss Head Honcho Herself?” He whistled. “I didn’t know he was riding on her tusks.”

  Someone else went by the table, and Godren watched Sethos raise his drink self-consciously to his lips again.

  “I’ve hopped on to help shine her tusks,” he announced.

  This time, Sethos spat his mouthful nearly into Godren’s face, and sat there with his chin dripping as he stared. “You have not,” he finally denied. “And that’s final.”

  “I signed a contract.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “In blood.”

  “You’re cracked. You’re completely off your rocker. Remember your rocker? That homey little rocking chair your grandmother swears by, the one that she would beat you over if she found out you ever forsook it? You should always listen to Grandma, Ren. Grandma knows best. Where the blazes did Mastodon work her way into your blood? We’re trying to escape this, Godren, not get buried deeper in slime like her.”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “You and Petal-Face. It’s infectious. I bet it’s that rose scent – it does something to you, messes with your head.”

  “She summoned me, Sethos – me personally,” Godren explained, voice lowered but tone more fierce. “I didn’t go offering my bloody services,” he said with revulsion.

  Sethos took a hint, and left off his accusations. He sat there for a moment, appreciating the situation. “What did she want?”

  “A relationship.”

  “You and the hairy elephant–?” Sethos nearly choked again, this time on nothing but ridicule.

  “A business relationship, Seth. An official demonstration of alliance.”

  “What sort of demonstration?”

  “She’s developing a new breed of bounty hunter,” Godren began.

  “What do they do?”

  “They hunt other bounty hunters.”

  Sethos shrugged his eyebrows. “She’s bored.”

  “She feels threatened,” Godren corrected, “and she’s killing two threatening birds with one stone.” He allowed Sethos to think about that a moment.

  “Who’s the second bird?” Sethos asked carefully, wary of the answer.

  “Me.”

  “I see,” Sethos said, leaning his elbows on the table. “I just don’t understand at all.”

  “Bounty hunters are becoming more fearless, more reckless,” Godren explained. “They’re becoming a nuisance to her. I get the impression that Mastodon is also afraid of what I might ultimately become, though she needn’t be, so by commissioning me into her hunting services, she terminates a rising nuisance and establishes me as an ally while doing it.”

  “If she’s afraid of you, surely you have some leverage over her. Couldn’t you use that to get out of her scheme?”

  “I have the potential to be dangerous to her, Seth. She is still far more powerful.”

  “So how bad is it – this agreement of yours?”

  Godren explained the conditions of their contract, and Sethos took it all in without remark.

  “Doesn’t sound entirely condemning,” he granted when Godren was finished. “But tread carefully nevertheless – as carefully as you can tread on a bed of coals, anyway.”

  “You always were the optimist of the two of us,” Godren remarked dryly.

  Sethos held his hands up. “It’s you’re business, Ren, because it’s certainly your element, but I still feel like I should be watching your back like the good ol’ days, when we fled Wingbridge together.”

  “I know, Seth. I appreciate it. I feel like we should still have each other’s backs, too.”

  “Mastodon’s hairy back is no substitute for mine, eh?”

  “I never was fond of hairy backs,” Godren concurred.

  “Then I can count on you not getting attached?”

  “You can count on it.”

  “When do you start?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “So I’d better not keep you long, ay?”

  Godren traced the edge of the tankard thoughtfully. “You know, Seth – if you want a safe place to hide for a few days, to catch up on sleep and whatnot, I can take you there. I have free reign of the grounds while in her service, so I might as well take advantage of them.”

  “Take me to Mastodon’s place? I’d rather not have the pleasure of meeting her.”

  “You wouldn’t have to. She has a whole underground kingdom, Seth. It’s dark and not wonderfully populated, and she sticks to her carpeted quarters. I’ve adopted a nice vacant courtyard for myself, and you’re welcome to join me.”

  “Are you sure she wouldn’t notice?”

  “I’ve already found a few alternate ways in and out, so I wouldn’t even have to smuggle you past her picky goons.”

  “Y’know…I might just have to take you up on that. I haven’t slept well in…well, probably since we left Wingbridge. It’s been a tense ride.”

  “I’m at the point where I don’t even remember how wonderful sleep is – which is nice, in a way, because then I don’t miss it.”

  “Well I’m getting there and I’d rather not, because sleep is about the last nice thing I have left to look forward to each day. You have to have something to live for. But if you’re so far gone, what are you living for, Ren?”

  “The future,” Godren replied.

  “You have high hopes.”

  “I do.”

  Seth tapped his finger on the table, considering his friend. He ultimately chose not to say anything a
bout Godren’s hopes. “I guess I’ll go with you, then,” he decided. “But this had better not get me into trouble. I’d rather not end up fleeing for my life again, Godren. Don’t make that your fault. Not legitimately this time.”

  “Don’t remind me of that, Seth. You know it was all a mistake, and I’m trying to forget.”

  “But how long can you pretend you’re innocent, Godren, when you’ve got a spot at the top of the city’s Most Wanted list, and you know you’ve earned it here?”

  “I am innocent,” Godren insisted, unfazed. He would never stop believing it. “My life is awry.”

  4: Wielding Venom

  The ghosts must have told on me, Godren thought as he stood before Mastodon again, faced with explaining Seth’s presence in her domain. She had been aware of the additional guest almost immediately. He had to admit, he had not considered the ghosts when he’d assured Seth the place was mostly empty.

  “So you’re recruiting men to aid in our cause,” Mastodon presumed, voicing an assumption that Godren was surprised to hear. Perhaps this would blow over more smoothly than he thought. “I trust you are a good judge of character?”

  Was it really going to be so easy? “Fair enough,” he confirmed. “But let’s just say I’m confident I can keep them in line regardless of their character.”

  “You didn’t feel a need to consult me of this development in your plans?” She cocked an eyebrow.

  “Do you disapprove?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  Godren made himself comfortable in the chair on his side of the desk. “I said I’d protect you, my lady. And not only did I say it; I signed in blood. So I’m going to do whatever I have to in order to ensure that I keep that end of the bargain. Now I know I’m good, but you’re into some treacherous business here, and I’m not going to take any chances. I’m not going to risk wagering that I’m that good.”

  Her eyebrow remained cocked, a sign that she was impressed by his display of loyal insurance. Unemotionally, though, she considered him. “Very well. Take the measures you must.”