The Bathrobe Knight: Volume 2

by Charles Dean

  Darwin didn’t even acknowledge that Kitchens had spoken. “Your men, they threatened to kill my friends. I forgave that. Their incompetence--it almost cost me and my friends our lives on our way to see you. I forgave that too. But,” he paused, looking around at the scene where the three men had been casually drinking tea, “this I cannot let slide. I was almost killed defending the lives of my friends and your men while you were, what? Casually sipping tea? Playing war in the back, dressed up for battle?”

  “Young man, we weren’t just sipping tea, we were talking abou--”

  “If you interrupt me again, I will rip your tongue out and make you eat it right here, right now. Have I made myself clear?” Darwin said, his eyes pulsing a red that Kass could see all the way from the door without even having a good angle on his face. Minx, also clearly noticing the eyes, had grabbed onto her dress and was holding it as if her life depended on it.

  This isn’t Darwin, Kass just repeated to herself, unable to process the actions of the man in front of her. This isn’t Darwin.

  The leader under the mask stayed silent, gulping under the threat.

  “Speak now, boy. Have I made myself clear?” Darwin’s voice pushed the man back again.

  “Ye . . . Y es, yes, you’ve made yourself clear,” he stuttered, shaking a little as he spoke.

  “Just so you don’t forget, here’s a reminder,” Darwin said, pulling out a spoon and stabbing the handle through the man’s armor into his arm. As he started to yell in pain, Darwin put a finger to his lips and another hand on the sword he still carried.

  Darwin! Kass found herself containing a muted scream. Part of her had thought it was all a bluff, that he was only acting tough, but as soon as the spoon had pierced flesh, she knew it was real.

  “Now, you see, I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them. I already know the answer to most of them, so keep in mind that every time I think you are lying, I’m going to stab you. Do you understand? Nod if you understand.”

  The man nodded vigorously.

  “First question: how long have you been working for the Panda King? Go on. Answer me,” he said, tapping the spoon in the Daimyo’s arm.

  “I don’t work fo--” Before he could finish his denial, Darwin had pulled out his blade and stabbed the man’s leg, leaving it in for a second and then pulling it back out.

  “That’s bad. You lied to me on the first question,” Darwin said, looking down at the man who had fallen from his chair to the floor as he grabbed the wound on his leg in pain. “Let’s try again, but without the lies. How long have you been working for the Panda King?”

  Everyone sat in silence. Even the archers, who had previously looked like they wanted to stab Darwin themselves--even the guards, who had gritted their teeth as he waltzed around like he owned the place--all of them were now docile and quiet, staring at the wounded man on the ground.

  “A year before the organization started,” he coughed.

  “See? The truth wasn’t so hard to say, was it?” Darwin said, nudging the victim with his foot. “Second question: why does the Panda King want me dead?”

  “I don’t know,” the man said, and as Darwin pulled his sword up in exaggerated preparation for stabbing him again, the samurai pleaded further. “I swear! I don’t know! I swear he just sent word an hour before you came that he was going to send some people by to dispose of you.”

  “Did he tell you that my mission was to kill you?” Darwin asked.

  “No, no, he didn’t. He just said you’d be coming by to talk and to have my best guards ready to kill you if his team failed . . .”

  “Louie, Reginald . . . Guys, guess what. You’re the best guards here,” Darwin shouted back in an out-of-the-blue cheerful tone at the four archers. “Congrats.” Then, he turned back to the main on the floor. “Third question: how do you communicate with him?”

  “He sends messages via a drop spot outside. He always lights two fires side by side and, when it’s time to read them, I exit the cave through the secret tunnel and check the drop. If someone spots me, I just say I thought I saw enemy movement.”

  “I see. So there isn’t any way for him to know if I killed you, is there? There isn’t any way for him to know if I completed my mission or not?”

  “Well, no, but . . .”

  “Fourth and last question: do you have anything to offer, anything at all, that might be useful enough to stop me from killing you?” Darwin asked, holding his sword with one hand and stroking the blade with the other.

  “Uh . . . He . . . He was my accomplice!” the samurai fingered the man he had been drinking tea with next to him. “He’s also a spy!”

  After trying to pass the buck, the samurai didn’t say anything. He just stared, his face drained of all color, for a good minute or two. After that, Darwin stabbed the wanna-be daimyo right through the heart. He then waited a minute longer, pulled his sword out, and cut the wretch’s head clean off his slumped body.

  “Was that necessary?” Kitchens asked, his eyes following the rolling head.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t piece it all together too.”

  “I put together enough, but did you have to kill him?

  Kass wanted to join the conversation and ask what the hell was wrong with him, but now that she could actually see his face, she couldn’t find the words. The horns were the least intimidating part of his visage. The eyes that seemed to glow red more than just be red gave off a feeling that just unsettled her. That’s not Darwin, she said to herself again. She started to feel like a broken record, but, even so, it was because there was definitely something broken about what she was seeing.

  “Yes, I did, Kitchens,” Darwin said, picking up the head. “I have people in that city, people that will be slaughtered if the King moves against them too quickly. If the King thinks we are a tool to be used, that we still have a function, and he can get rid of us with the next assignment . . . he won’t act right away.”

  “Ah, right. I forgot that you’re ‘Great Lord Darwin,’” Kitchens said. Kass wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic. “So you’re going to murder everyone here and bring back the trophy?”

  “No. The way I figure it, we only have to bring one head. There’s no way the King will know if we killed everyone or not. The rest of these people will join us in our march for a new home.”

  “You think they’ll join you right after you killed their old leader?”

  “It’s their choice, but the other option is to have their towns razed and be butchered on the spot. Without their leader playing patsy, selling out to the King while pretending to be good for the cause, it’s only a matter of time before the King marches every able body he can find to wipe them off the face of the earth,” Darwin said nonchalantly as he carried the head towards the big doors.

  “They might not trust you or believe the story. It might just be your word against a dead man’s,” Kitchens continued.

  “Devil, sir . . . Umm, I mean, Darwin,” Louie spoke this time. “What will happen to us now?” The archer was standing next to his three friends and the innocent guy.

  “Well, likely, it’s just like I told Kitchens. Without the patsy pulling the strings, you’re going to be marched on by the Panda King.”

  “Yeah, but,” Reginald looked at Louie, and they both exchanged a bit of a nod, “you said there was a way out of that, right? You said there was another option to your friend, didn’t you?”

  “He did. That he did, Reginald,” Steve said, nodding. “He said, and not to misquote you on this, Mr. Darwin Devil, but he, I mean you, said--” Stevens paused, cleared his throat excessively, and then began speaking in a perfect Darwin impersonation, “‘the rest of these people will join us in our march for a new home.’”

  “You’re right, Steve, he did say that. But, that option is only valid if we actually, fearing for our lives, choose to follow this clearly devilish man,” Louie began, “and, of course, in the case that we believe his claim about t
his being our only option if we indeed wish to live.”

  “Hmm, interesting point. Given our praise to and admiration of a proper diety that promises us eternal salvation upon death, we really shouldn’t be concerned with that outcome, should we? It would invalidate the motivation for joining this proper devil gentleman.”

  “That’s right. We really shouldn’t be afraid of death. In fact, hypothetically, it should be something we celebrate to the point of seeking it out.”

  “Indeed. I mean, this life is supposed to be something hellish in comparison to what’s all said in the holy writings; so, death, especially a noble one of fighting for a special cause, should definitely be a nice relief. It would almost guarantee us a place in that fancy paradise.”

  “Right, right. So, you wanna go with the dying option?”

  “Oh, heck, no! I haven’t been to a weekly service in over two years. I’m going to follow the random devil guy.”

  “But, can you trust him?” They just kept talking, completely ignoring the other five people in the room. Even Minx shrugged.

  “He did figure out our boss was working with the bad guy,” Steve said, looking at the decapitated body. “That’s got to count for something.”

  “Okay, my lots in with him too. Let’s go round up the others and tell them the options,” Reginald said, patting Louie on the arm as they started leaving. “I just hope the new place has better uniforms. I’m really getting tired of this ugly color. It’s just so bl . . .” The voices of the four trailed off, Kass unable to hear them as they got too far away.

  “They weren’t going to ask you about it at all, were they?” Kitchens almost laughed.

  “I don’t think so, but at least they were interesting,” Darwin said.

  “They were. I’m guessing if all they do is wait at an entrance all day, they have a lot of time for philosophy,” Kitchens thought out loud.

  “Yep. Anyways, what do you want to do with the other traitor?” Darwin said, nodding his head toward the man our little warlord had called out earlier. “Kill him?”

  “Might as well,” Kitchens said, as he sliced him in two with his katana, not even waiting for a discussion on the subject. “But, the real question is: do you think this plan will work? What if the Panda King finds out that we didn’t kill all the bandits and we are on to his scheme?”

  “Hmmm, in that case, we’d end up having to fight our way through to reconnect with the faction; but, that’s a scenario that’s likely going to occur one way or the other regardless. This at least keeps cards on the table,” Darwin said, holding up the severed head in order to signal exactly what he meant.

  Kass, still staring at the head and trying to put her thoughts together, found herself just going with the flow and making excuses for Darwin’s actions. It wasn’t like Darwin wanted to kill that guy. He only did it because he had to in order to protect the people of Valcrest. There is no way Darwin would murder someone in cold blood for no reason, she told herself as the four of them left the room and started heading back towards the city. Darwin just isn’t the type to murder someone in cold blood, she thought again.

  This thought persisted all the way until she exited the ore mine and saw the scene ahead. The pleasant, scenic entrance that had been there before had changed from greens and browns to reds and blacks. The ground was covered with the bodies of what looked like a dozen Feline ninjas, their limbs and bodies ripped apart in a rather gorish fashion. She knew the cuts too. She knew exactly what person had left such wounds on his enemies like that, splitting them roughly like a butter knife sawing into bread.

  “Impressive,” Kitchens said as the four of them walked closer to the scene. “My thanks again.”

  “Wuuuuhhhhh? Mister mister, was that you? Did you do this? Did you kill them all?”

  “No, Minx,” Darwin said, walking up to and staring at the body of one particular Feline Ninja. “I think that, this time, they killed me.”

  “But, mister, you’re still alive, and they’re dead! What do you mean?” Minx asked again, but Darwin was just quietly staring at the body. After a minute, Minx came up to him and pulled on his shirt. “Mister, what do you mean, mister? I don’t understand.”

  “Minx, leave him to his thoughts,” Kitchens called out, summoning Minx back to him like a master calling for his dog to return. “We’ll be back on the road in a minute.”

  Kass frowned. Even she wanted to understand what Darwin meant. Darwin, what happened to you? she thought, her brain rejecting half the pieces of the puzzle and leaving her unable to put the whole picture together. She knew she was ignoring details, but she had to. After all, Darwin just isn’t like that.

  Darwin:

  “There you go. You’re one of us now,” Darwin said to Minx as he welcomed her to the faction. Kitchens had kept his word to join them if Minx still wanted to after they finished the mission, and Minx had harassed him about it the second they had left the cave. Kitchens at first had said, “Is the mission over?” and tried to dodge the topic altogether, but Minx had insisted it must be done because the objective was completed.

  “Yay! Minx the Lynx is going to become the cutest girl in the StormGuard Alliance,” Minx said, cheering to herself.

  “Hey, that’s not fair to say. What about me?” Kass interrupted, frowning a bit.

  “It’s okay, big sis. You can be the second cutest,” Minx said, smiling as if she had already won the title and prize.

  Darwin waited for Kass to protest, entirely expecting her to abuse her faction position and make Minx call her ‘Lady Kass’ instead of ‘big sis,’ but all she did was noogie Minx a little bit and then go back to playing. It was fun to watch them playing like that. The extent of his fun had always been reduced to simple point and click with the occasional keyboard stroke thrown in for good measure, but that was it. Having fun and playing games had always just been him, his monitor, and his keyboard. The only thing that had ever lit up with excitement was the screen. He had found it amusing that no matter how many times he typed lol or roflmao or even lawl, it had all meant the same thing: he was mildly amused but not enough to actually generate a genuine laugh.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t put that in a bag or maybe even in your inventory, assuming that’s possible,” Kitchens said, noting the head Darwin was carrying.

  “It needs to be visible,” Darwin answered. He didn’t know how Scouts worked, but if they functioned anything like Daniel had suggested, they were fast as lightning and would be reporting his coming long before he actually reached the gates. He needed to make sure he could gauge the reaction.

  “I understand. But, if you could, perhaps you might try to keep it away from Minx’s field of view,” Kitchens said, looking at Minx as she walked ahead of them.

  “Sure, no problem. If she turns around, I’ll try to keep it a bit behind my back.”

  “My thanks.”

  “So, you understand what the plan is, right?”

  “Right. Turn in contract, get reward, clear dungeon, get another reward.”

  “I don’t think your new boss has any cool items to give you as a reward.”

  “Hmm. Rewards can come in many shapes and sizes; and, sometimes, the task itself is also the reward.”

  “Oh, so you are expecting good feelings as your reward for helping us clear the dungeon?”

  “Actually, I was hoping for Gold,” Kitchens laughed. “Then again, perhaps you stole more cookies than I noticed. Perhaps there is an alternative form of payment.”

  “I see, so you’re saying that I can appeal to your sweet tooth to bribe you into killing random mobs in a dungeon?”

  “So you understand.”

  “Hmm,” Darwin thought. He wants me to bribe him with gold or cookies, ey? “Well, I’m not sure either of those are the real options. You see,” Darwin said, a wicked smile spreading across his face, “there is the option that you come with us, join in the faction activities and kill, loot and plunder a new dungeon to your heart's content with your ne
w brothers in arms. Or, and this is the fun option, you could just stay here. Just wait for the Panda King’s scouts to report movement of the still-living bandit populace, and then hope he is the kind and forgiving type who will excuse our treachery.”

  Kitchens’ face sunk down a bit, “I see. You’ll make a fine leader one day, Mr. Fire.”

  “Let’s hope that one day is incredibly far away and luck carries me perfectly all the way there,” Darwin thought, his mind flashing back to his death again. It hung there perpetually. He constantly felt the blood draining from wounds that had long since healed. Even as he walked, Darwin found himself touching the holes where the blade had entered him, the wounds that had left his life hanging in limbo, only to be revived by the grace of a skill he didn’t fully understand.

  What if I don’t have any soul charges next time? What if I get killed from a dagger to the back or their poison works next time? Darwin found himself worrying. What happens if the skill doesn’t activate, or I find myself the victim of common PKs trying to troll people coming out of a dungeon. PKs that out-leveled me because I was too busy concerning myself with politics, with whether or not I’ll die, with quests that have long walk times and no experience rewards, and I fail to grind properly?

  Looking at Kitchens, knowing that he was likely at or higher than his Level, Darwin felt fear again. If just three or four people at Kitchens’ Level were to oppose us, we’d be massacred on the spot. The only way we’d live would be if . . . Stephanie. Will I have to lean on her again? Will I have to lean on her at every turn? Can I even rely on her? Because of her condition, she can’t even go out in public with me. I’d have to either level with her alone and lose all chances of gaining EXP due to our Level differences or simply write her off as a defense mechanism. It’s a lose-lose situation to rely on her until I get closer to her abilities unless she can power level me--a thing that brings in its own mob of dangers.

  “What ails you?” Kitchens asked.