Mercenary Road

by Hideyuki Kikuchi

  Presently, the sound of the hoofbeats faded in the distance, and when the three warriors—who were ashamed that the spell of the darkness had frightened them—looked up, all they saw was a huge and horrible body lying in the street. Stanza and the giant were the first to race over to it. It was almost as if the sound of their footsteps, clearly of this world, was an indication that the spell of the darkness had finally been broken. They watched as the bio-man’s colossal body split lengthwise from head to crotch, exposing a cut that was as clean as polished steel.

  A ROVING BAND OF FIENDS

  CHAPTER 2

  —

  I

  —

  The Exavier was a small hotel that stood at the southern edge of town. Since it wasn’t on Main Street, it always had vacancies. Slumbering on the check-in counter was a black cat of unknown origin that’d been there as long as anyone could remember. The cat was famous for the way it would open its eyes and throw a glance at anyone who came in, even if they were the stealthiest of thieves. As the building was over fifty years old, an intruder couldn’t take a step without the boards creaking. However, the visitor they had today didn’t make a single sound. Even when he walked right by the counter and up the stairs, the cat didn’t awake.

  Halting before a room on the second floor, the shadowy figure cocked his head to one side. After rapping on the door, he pressed himself against the wall to the right. When the room’s occupant appeared, he wanted the element of surprise.

  He didn’t expect an answer. There wasn’t a sound to be heard.

  After waiting thirty seconds, he thought, Must be out. Just to be sure, he gave the doorknob a twist, and the door swung effortlessly into the room.

  There was no sign of anyone. He couldn’t sense the faintest trace of the unearthly air that’d paralyzed him the night before. Entering the room, he reached back and shut the door behind him.

  There was a pair of connected living rooms, with doors on the right to the bedroom and bath. Though evening was still far off, a faint gloom hung over the table, chairs, and closet. The curtains were drawn on the windows. This was the kind of world in which the room’s occupant must’ve been born and raised.

  Suddenly every inch of the man was enveloped by an egregious fear. It was the same unearthly air he’d sensed the night before. The one he sought was in.

  “What do you want?” said a voice behind him—beside the door.

  What a rank amateur’s mistake—his opponent had tricked him with the same hiding maneuver he’d tried. But the voice was lovely. Even though its tone was one of steel . . .

  “Nice to meet you, I suppose I should say.”

  At least he managed to speak. He’d intended to put some force behind the words, but wasn’t so sure he’d succeeded.

  “Strider’s the name,” he continued. “I’m a warrior. And I’m here to give you a piece of my mind.”

  There was no reply.

  “Is it okay if I turn toward you now?”

  “No one told you not to move.”

  This stunned the warrior, but he managed to get over it and turn around. He could feel his mind slipping away from him. Even in his room, the other young man hadn’t taken off his traveler’s hat or coat. But everything about him, including his exquisite features, was darkly glowing.

  “Could I trouble you for your name?” the man said, but it didn’t sound like he was addressing another human being. Still, he seemed to have gotten his point across.

  “D.”

  Strider’s mouth fell open.

  “So you’re . . . that dhampir.”

  After this, he didn’t say another word. D’s good looks were melting his brain.

  “If you have no business with me . . .”

  “No, I do. I’ve got a beef with you. The mayor called you here, didn’t he?”

  Nothing from D.

  “Well, thanks to you, the bastard’s turned down our offer. Told us there’d been a highly qualified applicant, and that he no longer needed our services—but he’d hire us if we were willing to work for half his original price. So you can see why I’d wanna air my grievances.”

  “Go tell it to the mayor,” D replied, his advice straightforward and simple.

  “I’ve already been there. Only the bastard won’t see me at all, and he’s got himself at least twenty guards now. He just wanted to know if I’d take the job for a pittance or not. Hell, I could take out a hundred of those hick guards, but I need the money. In the end, I just bit the bullet and took his offer. Which meant all I could do was come here and complain to the cause of all this.”

  “So?”

  Terror jabbed into the nape of Strider’s neck. D was asking if he wanted to make something of it.

  Swallowing hard, the warrior said, “I was gonna threaten you, but I’ve changed my mind. Since it never hurts to ask, what do you say to the two of us joining forces?”

  D said nothing.

  “It’s so we can both get more money out of him. There’s someone else who probably took the job under the same conditions. Teaming up with the renowned D would give me a better position to negotiate from instead of sticking with her.”

  “Leave.”

  “Hey, hold on, now!”

  “You have a visitor,” said D.

  “What?”

  A knock resounded.

  D opened the door.

  “Excuse me,” Stanza said, poking her head into the room. With a trenchant gaze she scanned the room from the doorway. She was perplexed by what she saw.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

  “The same thing as you, actually.”

  “Is he in?”

  Strider tossed his chin.

  D couldn’t be seen from the doorway.

  “May I come in?”

  “Yes.”

  D’s reply sent a tremble through Stanza. Despite the fact that D was less than a foot and a half from her, she hadn’t sensed him at all.

  Closing the door, she said to him, “I’m Stanza, the warrior.”

  “I’m D.”

  The same stunned reaction as Strider’s crossed the female warrior’s already melting face.

  “You’re . . . D? Come to mention it . . . you really are gorgeous, aren’t you?”

  Judging by his demeanor, Strider was about to retch, but he didn’t say a word. This, too, was due to D’s looks.

  “What do you want?”

  Looking at Strider as if he were a pebble in the gutter, she said, “Why don’t you leave?”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re finished,” D said.

  “I suppose we are,” Strider said, glaring back at Stanza. “But think it over, anyway.”

  “No.”

  Though the warrior shrugged at D’s reply, he didn’t seem terribly disappointed as he told the Hunter, “Watch yourself with that little minx.”

  And with that, he left.

  Walking over to the door, Stanza squinted her eyes. She soon gave a nod and turned to face D. She’d been listening to make sure she heard Strider going down the stairs.

  “You have a beef, too?”

  “Huh?” Stanza exclaimed, looking at D’s left thigh. That was where the voice had come from.

  Balling his fist tightly, D said, “Nothing.”

  Stanza furrowed her brow. “Do you have a cold or something?”

  “No.”

  “Can you throw your voice?”

  D said nothing.

  “Well, not that it matters. Do you mind if I have a seat?”

  Not a word from D.

  Hiding her dissatisfaction, Stanza smiled and said, “I like men of few words.”

  “State your business.”

  “Would you join up with me?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Stanza said with a wry grin. “Thanks to you, my pay’s half of what I was originally offered. Not that I have any choice. Still, I have a bad feeling about this gig. S
o I wanted to throw in with the toughest player in the game.”

  D remained silent.

  Not seeming to mind, Stanza suggested, “Say, why don’t you see what I’ve got before you answer?”

  “Leave.”

  “Don’t be that way. There’s no harm in checking out what someone else is capable of. After all, everyone who’s seen what I can do up until now is dead.”

  Without waiting for his reply, Stanza stood up—the act was more motivated by her own desire to show off than the fact that D was ignoring her. Standing at ease, Stanza suddenly flicked out both hands. There were hard thuds as something sank into the walls to either side of her.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” a hoarse voice remarked with admiration.

  This time Stanza paid it no mind, asking, “What do you think?”

  Portraits hung on either wall. The plates under each identified them as the hotel’s founder—they were not exactly the most attractive decorations. Slender darts jabbed into the eyes of each portrait. Her hands had moved so quickly, you literally couldn’t see her draw the weapons. Without a sound, she’d unleashed eight of them—sticking four into each portrait. They’d all struck within a millisecond of each other. If a dozen men were to come at her at the same time, she could undoubtedly blind them all in a split second.

  “Well?”

  “Ain’t that a cute trick.”

  Stanza turned and looked.

  There was no one there but D.

  “A cute trick? I’d like to hear you say that again,” she said angrily, but her remark lacked conviction.

  The insult had come from D—he was the only one there. However, she just couldn’t picture him saying that.

  “Say it again! Go on, tell her!” Strider’s voice called from the direction of the door.

  He was standing in the doorway. Apparently, he’d come back.

  “What are you here for?” Stanza asked, giving him a look that could kill.

  “You know, I just didn’t have a good feeling about this. D or not, he’s dealing with a woman here. I couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t wrap him around your little finger.”

  —

  II

  —

  “Leave,” D said.

  Though they’d been glaring at each other up to that point, the pair suddenly looked at D.

  “Okay, I know what we can do, Stanza,” Strider said, taking a step forward. “We were both wrong trying to pull a fast one on each other. What do you say to the two of us hiring D together? He’d be a great guard!”

  “Where would we get the money for that, you idiot?”

  “What did you just say?”

  Once again a thread of murderous intent linked the two warriors.

  Flashes crossed in the gloom. A mellifluous sound rang out. Having drawn and struck in a single motion, Strider returned his sword to its sheath.

  “Too bad,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “I stopped your toys, bitch.”

  Fresh from the scabbard, his blade had split the darts Stanza hurled in two.

  Smiling, Stanza touched her forefinger to her right cheek.

  Since the gesture seemed meaningful, Strider touched his hand to his own cheek, and then he gasped. His fingers were damp with fresh blood.

  “You only stopped half. As for the other half—if I’d wanted to, I could’ve put them right here!”

  As Strider watched Stanza’s finger tap the middle of her forehead, his features twisted into a fiendish mask.

  Stanza’s smile vanished.

  The atmosphere was so thick with murderous intent that the brief moment of a sigh was all that separated life from death, but the air was returned to normal by an icy voice.

  “Don’t make me tell you again. Leave.”

  The two warriors turned to D in unison. Eyes that were wild with killing lust dimmed. They turned and headed for the door without saying a word.

  Once the door had shut, the hoarse voice said, “Those dopes don’t have any idea how outclassed they are—of course, I don’t think anyone but people like them would even try to take the Florence Highway. By the way they’re acting, they’ll probably tag along. I just wonder if they have any idea this won’t be a simple rescue mission. At any rate, the mayor set tomorrow morning as the time to head out. Until then, we should get our rest . . . Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

  D was picking up the saddle and bags he’d set next to the wall.

  “We’re heading out now.”

  “What?”

  “It looks like we might pick up dead weight otherwise.”

  “You’re right about that, but—gaaaaah!”

  After squeezing his left hand into a tight fist, D grabbed the saddle and headed for the door. The saddlebags were slung over his shoulder.

  The ringing of a bell made him halt. A phone hung on the wall. The town was quite proud of the fact that every house had a telephone installed. The power station was in the desert to their west.

  Setting down the saddle, D took the receiver with his left hand and held it to his ear.

  “This is the mayor,” he heard a voice say. “I’ve decided I want you to let those other two accompany you. Consider that an order.”

  “They’ll just be in the way.”

  “Well, the town wants to take every possible precaution,” the mayor said, his voice quavering. That was to be expected, given the man he was addressing. “Consider bringing them along to be part of what we’re paying you that million dalas for.”

  “Find someone else, then.”

  “I can’t very well do that.”

  “Then keep your mouth shut.”

  “Fine. I leave it up to you. But if they follow along, I don’t want you people killing each other!”

  Before the mayor could hang up, D replaced the receiver.

  “Ain’t they the tricky ones, tapping your line,” his left hand remarked with amusement. Someone could’ve been standing right next to the Hunter, listening intently, and they wouldn’t have heard a word. It was a strange dialogue only D and his hand were privy to.

  “What’ll you do?”

  “Just as I’d planned.”

  At D’s response, the hoarse voice seemed to laugh.

  “See you, then.”

  It was a second later that D’s left hand fell off at the wrist.

  Down on the floor, the severed limb deftly worked its fingers to crawl under the sofa.

  Putting the stump of his left arm into his coat pocket, D headed for the door. Halting just shy of it, he stepped to one side.

  A ferocious knocking drew a derisive laugh from under the sofa.

  “Guess I’ll be staying here a while.”

  The rapping soon ceased, only to be replaced by a voice like a broken bell that asked, “Hey, are you in there or what?”

  Following this, the doorknob twisted frantically.

  Before it could turn all the way, D asked, “What do you want?”

  The voice brimmed with delight as it said, “Oh, so you are in? It’s me. You remember me, don’t you.”

  “Me isn’t a lot to go on.”

  “Gonna be difficult, are you? When you took care of that souped-up bio-man last night, I was at the end of the alley. I figured you’d know who I was.”

  “The big fellow?” said the voice from under the sofa.

  “Oh, you can do different voices, can you? I guess I should expect that from the man known as D.” He sounded deeply impressed. “It’s just because of stuff like that that I have a request for you. Open up. Come on. Open the door.”

  The door was struck again. The room shook.

  “Would you let me in already? This hotel is really falling apart!”

  —

  III

  —

  D reached for the doorknob. There was something crestfallen about the act.

  A veritable wall of human flesh wearing a heavy chest plate lumbered in. Six foot eight, he weighed nearly 450 pounds. At that size, his chest plate and
gauntlets had to be custom made. Of course, all the top-notch warriors wore custom-made armor anyway.

  “Don’t jump out and belt me,” he said, looking out of the corner of his eye to where D stood by the wall to his left. “Oh, there you are. It really is nice to meet you, I must say.”

  Suddenly the big man extended his hand. He must’ve wanted a handshake. But then he seemed to understand what he was doing.

  Immediately pulling his hand back, he said, “Oops, sorry about that. If you gave your right hand to everyone you met, you’d be a poor excuse for a Hunter.”

  His belly shook as he laughed. Apparently he was cheerful to the very core.

  “What do you want?”

  “I have a request for you,” he said, slapping his protruding belly with a great mitt of a hand. It wasn’t quite clear whether he was proud of his stomach or ashamed of it. But then, all portly people seemed to be that way.

  “Not interested.”

  “Hear me out before you say that,” the grinning giant said.

  “What is it, then?”

  “Hold up a minute. First, I have to tell you what I want. I’d like you to go with me now.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” the man asked, looking surprised and disappointed. Apparently he wasn’t the kind to give much consideration to other people’s circumstances.

  “I have pressing business. I’m going.”

  “Come on. Wait a minute. There’s something in this for you. The fact of the matter is—”

  Once he’d listened to the man, D once again turned him down.

  “I ain’t asking you to do it for nothing. I can tell you all about the vampire castle on the Florence Highway!”

  D’s eyes gleamed.

  “It’s the truth,” the man continued. “Thirteen years ago, I went into that castle and came out alive, the only survivor.”

  “Tell me your name,” said D.

  “Uh, why?” the giant stammered, shaken.

  “As you say, seven Hunters entered the castle, and only one returned—a man with an unusual name. So tell me yours.”

  “Er . . .”

  D started walking toward the door.

  “Oh, all right. It’s ——,” the giant said, the last part unintelligible.

  “I didn’t catch that.”

  “Beatrice.”

  Nothing from the Hunter.