For Gold and Revenge

by Noah Layton

  Grunting hard, I secured my grip against the rough concrete and dragged myself up and over the edge.

  Killian was high-tailing it away.

  I was losing him.

  The slice through the skin on my shoulder wasn’t going to stop me, though.

  Pure rage was flowing through my veins, and it was pushing me towards my enemy. Killing him was my only objective.

  Pain roared through my shoulder, but I didn’t care.

  I wrenched myself up to the ledge and back onto the roof, setting off sprinting towards Killian as he raced across rooftops.

  I leaped onto a higher rooftop ten yards ahead and sharply mapped my route for speed.

  At the end of the current roof I veered sharply to the right and leaped through the air, landing on a sloped rooftop and sliding down the tiles.

  I scraped to the bottom and dashed onwards.

  ‘Give it up, Killian!’ I yelled ahead.

  ‘Fuck you, apprentice,’ he shouted over his shoulder at me. ‘You think you can stop me?’

  I looked ahead to see the path fast transforming into claptrap and uneven makeshift structures.

  These weren’t the stable platforms that I had been moving along so far – these were calamitous wooden platforms and passages ready to collapse beneath my weight.

  The only ranged weapon that I had on my person was the concealed pistol in the pocket of my jacket, and that could hardly be called a ranged weapon.

  Managing my footing, I looked up to see that Killian had slowed again. He stood on the ledge of a building, looking at the route ahead then back at me, then glancing back and forth again, before a smile rose on his face and he stepped forwards.

  Looking ahead, I saw the dilemma that had presented itself to his cowardly ass. A makeshift gangplank, held up by a myriad wooden beams, had been built to link up the building I was hurrying across and the one across the street. It was perhaps 20 yards in length, and three stories above the ground.

  Below the street seemed quiet, but a few citizens were making their way through.

  Killian tip-toed to the end of the walkway, arriving at the other side just as I made it to the start.

  He turned and locked eyes with me, and I pulled to a halt. He was a crafty son of a bitch, and I knew that he could still have a small-range attack up his sleeve – just as I did.

  ‘Aren’t you getting tired of this, Drake?’

  ‘I won’t be tired until my hands are wrapped around your neck and the life’s been choked out of you.’

  ‘Always so dramatic,’ he chuckled. ‘You need to learn to relax.’

  ‘Forgive me, but when your ex-boss orders your execution you become a little tense now and again.’

  ‘Hm. Pity you won’t have a chance to catch me.’

  Killian reached into his pocket and retrieved an item that I had only seen a few times before in my life.

  It was a time-released explosive.

  He activated it and threw the bomb forwards where it landed just a few yards from me.

  I glanced at the fuse. I had seconds to get clear.

  I dived to the ground, guarding my head behind the ledge just as it exploded.

  Splintered wood flew over my head, and the wooden structure crunched and groaned painfully.

  I pushed hard to my feet and looked to the bridge. It was faltering, and Killian was still standing there, watching his work.

  Our eyes locked again, and his face sank as he realised that the bridge was still suspending itself on threadbare strips of wood.

  This was my only chance.

  I rushed forwards and sprinted towards him. He turned and ran.

  The first step I took onto the passageway, it crunched brutally.

  And with the second, my end collapsed entirely.

  The bridge swung down like a pendulum, scraping against the outer wall of the building that I had just left.

  Screams echoed up from below as it collapsed, but I was focused on one thing – getting to the other side.

  Sharply I found myself sprinting upwards and realised that there was no way I was going to reach the other side.

  But I could take a shortcut.

  I pushed off from the falling bridge and lunged forwards, aiming for the only access point to the next building that I could reach; a large window on the second floor.

  I smashed through the glass headfirst and landed hard on a wooden floor.

  I had no idea where I was, but as I looked up and saw a family of goblins sitting together eating lunch, all staring at me with their eyes filled with terror and chewed bread slipping from their open mouths in shock, I surmised that I was in an apartment.

  ‘Sorry about the mess,’ I said, scrambling to my feet and reaching into my pocket. I slammed down ten gold pieces on the ground where I had landed and took off. ‘For the window!’ I called back, rushing to their front door and bursting into a hallway that stretched the full length of the building.

  I set off at a sprint along the corridor to the open window at the end. With every step I knew that Killian would be moving somewhere overhead, but I had no idea in which direction he would be travelling.

  I could have already lost him.

  Moving so fast that I practically slammed into the wall by the window to draw myself to a stop, I pried the pane open and looked around.

  No sign of him. The only way was up.

  I hopped onto the ledge and jumped up, pulling myself up to the third-floor ledge, then grabbing hold of the edge of the building and yanking myself up to the roof.

  Killian was stood right before me. He came grinding to a halt on the platform of the rooftop, this ten-yard square on which neither of us could now vanish.

  This was it.

  ‘Why won’t you just fucking die? He panted, glaring back at me with gritted teeth.

  ‘Because I’m not someone who you can just execute and bury,’ I growled.

  ‘And look at what you’ve become in the process. Setting off explosives and being a sneaky bastard to get ahead. Just like me. You might think that you’re going to be some righteous defender of this city, Drake, but at the end of the day, every bounty hunter ends up going the same way; the way of coin. That is our way. That’s why we do what we do.’

  ‘I’m not like you. I’m not going to be paid off by the gangs to let them wreak havoc behind the scenes of this city.’

  ‘You will be, one day… If you live to see such a day, that is. Let’s finish this, right now.’

  I was done being caught out and screwed over, no matter how ahead of the game I thought I was.

  I reached into my pocket for the concealed pistol just as Killian reached to the waist of his pants and retrieved his own, a much bigger gun that could probably take my head off.

  ‘Bet you expect me to shoot you with this, huh?’ He said, raising the gun on his index finger as it sagged and swung aimlessly, the barrel aimed diagonally towards the sky. ‘But I bet the moment I do, you’ll shoot me with the one you just reached for in your pocket. Don’t act so surprised, Drake. I know you.

  ‘So here’s the deal; take yours out and put it on the ground, and I’ll do the same. Or I’ll put mine down on the ground and you can shoot me in the head. At least then we’ll both know who’s the real coward out of the two of us.’

  I expected this to be another ruse, but in that instant Killian let the gun slide from his finger and clunk to the ground heavily. He pulled off his jacket and cast it to the ground, exposing the line of his waist and turning out his pockets to confirm that the sword sheathed there was the only weapon present.

  My hand was still resting on the gun in my pocket. My finger wasn’t on the trigger, but its small frame was clasped in my sweaty palm as I watched him take a knee. He proceeded to turn up both of his pant legs, revealing a dagger and another smaller pistol, which he cast aside one after the other.

  Finally he stood, resting his hand on the handle of his sword and facing me directly.

  ‘I didn’t ex
pect you to be so upstanding at a moment like this,’ I said.

  ‘What can I say? I guess being here with you now, face to face, I changed my mind. I don’t want to live on from here with the knowledge that I pulled some bitch move and took you out like a snake. No, I want to beat you properly, so I can walk away from here knowing who the real fighter, the real survivor, is out of the two of us.’

  I wrapped my hand around the gun in my pocket and revealed it, raising my arm and dropping it to the ground beside me. Mirroring my enemy, I pulled off my jacket and threw it aside.

  ‘Oh, look at the apprentice standing up,’ Killian teased. ‘Now, let me show you who the real master is.’

  I knew that he was trying to tease me to make me lose my nerve… And he was doing a damn good job of it.

  ‘Enough of this,’ I growled, drawing my sword and he drawing his in return. ‘Let’s finish this.’

  I raised my weapon and we moved towards each other, our swords held before us.

  I was aware of every sound, every breeze of wind and every voice from below, every tapping footstep and every breath.

  Killian suddenly lunged forwards, swiping out at me. I quickly deflected it and shoved his sword to the side.

  He kept a tight hold as we circled each other, he putting some distance between us.

  I darted at him sharply in an attempt to catch him off guard, delivering a right swipe that dragged diagonally in his direction.

  Killian dodged back and I moved for a horizontal swipe, reversed from the way I had come. He swung wide and his blade clanged against mine, throwing me off balance and forcing me to retreat several yards to recover my balance.

  ‘Is that all you’ve got?’ Killian taunted. ‘Against an old man like me?’

  I regained my composure and so did he.

  We raised our swords again and faced each other. I was determined to wait, to let him make the first move.

  He stretched his sword arm out towards me, the tip of the blade aimed directly at me, and began to step forwards.

  I raised my own sword in the same fashion and aimed it at him.

  We had played this game a hundred times at the headquarters with each other. Chicken. Just a simple game of who could hold their nerve the longest.

  Closer and closer we encroached on each other until the tips of our blades passed by.

  But my arms were longer, and as our swords moved closer to their targets, I saw Killian losing his nerve.

  Something within him had realised that he had travelled too far to let all of this go so easily.

  And that was when I chose to strike.

  I dodged to the side and took a risky jab at him. The blade missed his ear by an inch as he ducked his head away.

  He swiped his blade at mine, giving up, and stepped back towards the ledge. There was nowhere for him to run.

  He took a high step onto the ledge, the only thing standing between us and the perilous four-story drop to the street below.

  I leaped onto it, balancing myself on the flat, foot-wide stretch of concrete that had suddenly become our battleground.

  This platform is now the entire world. You have nowhere else to stand, so don’t move from it. Now gut this bastard.

  The vengeful voice in my mind commanded me to stay focused, to zone in on my enemy.

  Killian took the advantage, jabbing at me and forcing me to swipe his sword away. The edge missed my chest by inches, and as he recovered from the swipe I darted towards him with an over the shoulder cut.

  He swung his sword hard in response, and our blades met in mid-air. They clanged harshly, sending sparks ushering to the ground.

  I raised my other hand to the handle, and we fought hard for the advantage as we parried.

  ‘Give it up, Drake!’ Killian ordered. ‘It’s time for you to die…’

  Killian suddenly leaned between the blades and headbutted me. My mind rang with a terrible daze as I staggered back.

  I shook my head free of the cuckoo spinning around it to see Killian rushing me, his sword raised over his head to cut me down in a downward swipe.

  I raised my sword just in time to stop his blade mere inches from my face. My own blade was practically ready to cut through my skin with a single jolt.

  I yelled out with rage and forced him back, seizing my advantage as he staggered.

  Rushing forwards, I delivered a brutal volley of strikes again and again.

  Crunch, crunch – CRACK.

  Killian yelled out as his arm gave from the pressure of holding his weapon, a bone breaking invisibly within.

  His sword dropped from his hand uncontrollably, and in a swift movement I grabbed hold of his collar with my left hand, drew my sword back with my right and drove the blade straight into his chest.

  His hand reached out desperately, grasping around my wrist, whether in some final attempt to survive or just to commit one last simple motion while he was still alive.

  I stared deep into his grey, gravelly eyes. Blood burst from the wound and suddenly began to pour violently.

  Killian’s hand finally loosened around my wrist and fell limply to the side. The death rattle gurgled from his lips, and his body went limp.

  I ripped my sword free and pushed him back. His body tipped slowly backwards and disappeared over the edge.

  A second later there was a hefty slam as his body crashed into the street below. Shrieks of surprise echoed from below, followed by shouts for help.

  I staggered backwards and slumped down against the ledge of the building. It was early afternoon and the sun was shining bright overhead.

  I examined my body for any signs of mortal injury. Besides the scratches and cuts sustained during our fight, I was doing pretty okay.

  I took a few long breaths, appreciating the simple fact that I had survived this madness. My thoughts changed to the fact that I had finally accomplished my goal; I had killed the backstabbing bastards who had ordered my murder, and somehow I had lived to tell the tale.

  A large smile beset itself upon my face. I chuckled to myself, my chest aching from the bruises scattered across my ribs.

  It was a good pain.

  Sure, I had lived to tell the tale, but what good was a story if I wasn’t around to tell it to somebody else?

  My whole body ached as I pushed up from the ground. I took a moment to look out at the quiet skyline around me.

  Spire City was completely unaware that I was up here. Most of this city was completely unaware that I even existed.

  That was the way I would prefer to keep it.

  Even if this city didn’t know who I was, they would know my actions. The innocent citizens would feel safer in the streets when they were living their lives, and the gangs who thought that they were above the law, who terrorised the public and caused havoc in the streets and behind the scenes every day?

  They would feel the wrath that I was going to bring their way.

  And so would the corrupt guilds.

  I looked out at the skyline once more. Then, weapons sheathed and muscles sore, I set off across the rooftops of Spire City, ready to return home to my women.

  19 – A little rest and relaxation

  In the aftermath of the havoc wreaked at Killian’s tavern, as well as the final fight with him and the dumping of his body in a public street for all to see, my unofficial squad decided to lie low for a week.

  Word of the death of a guild master was rife for days following the event, and Veronica’s daily recon missions into the streets to the local bounty office and for food – she was more of a ghost than any of us – were a constant source of information.

  ‘Wait till you see this,’ she announced, closing the door to our hideout behind her. It was the third day of our rest and relaxation as we recovered from the wounds we had sustained during the final fight, and I had to admit that I was enjoying myself.

  We might have been wanted for our crimes, but nobody had a damn clue who we were, and lounging around my hideout with a busty foxgirl
and a superbly sexy catgirl who preferred to spend their time in their underwear was my idea of a good time.

  ‘Check this out,’ Veronica said, crossing to me as I lounged in my armchair with my feet up, sipping on a glass of whisky. She sank into my lap and handed me a crumpled piece of paper, which I instantly recognised as a bounty poster.

  ‘Read it out,’ Cassandra said, propping herself up on her arm on the bed, her huge breasts bouncing lightly with that slight motion.

  ‘Wanted,’ I began. ‘Any information that leads to the capture of the individual or individuals responsible for the explosion that took place at The Rude Goblin tavern on 23rd March, resulting in the deaths of 13 private guards. 5000 gold pieces.’

  ‘Holy shit,’ Cassandra laughed in shock. ‘5000 gold pieces? Maybe we should turn ourselves in. I would definitely turn you in for that much, Drake.’

  ‘Thanks for that,’ I laughed.

  ‘Okay, maybe not you. But I would definitely trade in Veronica for that much.’

  ‘Hey!’ She scoffed. ‘At least I would be worth that much. Somebody would need to pay me to take you onto my hands.’

  ‘I’m just messing with you,’ Cassandra pouted. ‘You know I love you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t sell either of you girls for any price,’ I said. ‘I love you too much.’

  ‘We love you too, Drake,’ Veronica said, kissing me lightly on the lips. ‘I still can’t believe we actually managed to get away with that.’

  ‘I had the whole thing planned out, and by the looks of things this city is none the wiser. They’re offering this amount of gold just for information on the people responsible, and there isn’t a single soul who knows that it was us. The fact that they’re offering so much also suggests to me that they definitely don’t have any leads.’

  ‘Not only that,’ Veronica said, ‘but there’s this, too.’

  She fished another piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to me.

  ‘Wanted,’ I continued. ‘Any information that leads to the capture, yada-yada-yada, responsible for the death of respected guild master Killian Warren.’

  ‘Respected?’ Cassandra scoffed. ‘That’s a bit of an unfair precursor, isn’t it? What right does the High Council have to say that he was respected?’