Blood Mercenaries Origins

by Ben Wolf

  Bounty hunter? Kent marveled. What, exactly, was transpiring here?

  “I’m not done yet, Eusephus,” the bounty hunter shouted back. He raised his hands, one still holding the rock, and one open.

  Various stones arose from the street and began to encircle the bounty hunter again.

  The man in the dark robe, Eusephus, thrust his arms forward, and the red lights shot toward the bounty hunter like spears.

  The bounty hunter smacked his hands together, pressing the rock between them, and the stones formed into a wall. Then the bounty hunter dove to his right.

  The red lights shattered the wall of rock and streaked through the air where the bounty hunter’s body had just been.

  The bounty hunter rolled up to his feet, closer to Kent’s position, and dropped his rock to the ground. His hood slipped off of his head, revealing short blonde hair. Tan skin showed on his arms, legs, and face where the cloak didn’t cover them.

  His green eyes flashed toward Kent, then he refocused on Eusephus and rushed forward.

  The bounty hunter’s rock remained where he’d dropped it, now just a fraction of its original size, and smooth and shiny. Kent wondered what had happened to it.

  As Eusephus hurled more streams of red light, the bounty hunter extracted a white crystal from a pouch on his belt. He extended the crystal toward Eusephus, and the red lights collided with a previously invisible crystalline wall and dissipated harmlessly in a prism of red hues.

  Eusephus cursed, and the bounty hunter continued to press forward.

  From behind Eusephus, a group of leather-clad Inothian soldiers approached. The one in the lead wore a captain’s diamond-shaped rank on the shoulders of his armor. He shouted an order that Kent couldn’t make out.

  Eusephus stole a glance back and cursed again, then he traced a new set of symbols in the air before him, one for each hand. His right hand pointed toward the approaching bounty hunter, and his left pointed toward the soldiers.

  He finished completing the symbols, and his hands ignited with pale green fire. The flames erupted from his palms and traced lines between the two sets of encroaching opponents and himself. Green fire blazed from each line, creating an impassable barrier that stopped them all short.

  Kent stared at the green conflagration, amazed. He had produced blue fire from his fingertips before, but he had never achieved anything close to the magical prowess that either the bounty hunter or Eusephus had displayed thus far.

  The bounty hunter’s skills reminded Kent of battles he’d had with other Inothians near the border. They’d hurled rocks at his men along with fire, water, metal, and more, but in all his years of repelling the Inothians, he’d never seen anything like the magic Eusephus was wielding.

  While Eusephus began drawing his next symbols, the bounty hunter removed a feather from another of his pouches. He held it in his right hand, then he spread his arms wide like bird wings and swung them toward the flames.

  A gust of wind ripped through the center of the flames, and the bounty hunter walked through the opening. The feather was no longer in his hand.

  On the other side, the soldiers manufactured a stone bridge of sorts, also using magic. It blocked enough of the fire so they could pass beyond it.

  But Eusephus was ready for them. Two new symbols, different in shape, yielded two violet weapons covered with glowing runes, one in each hand.

  In his left hand, Eusephus held a glowing blade, sharp on one edge and lined with long saw teeth on the other. In his right hand, an irradiated flail, covered in spikes, hung from a purple chain.

  Kent marveled at the sight. Eusephus had just conjured those weapons out of nothing—out of magic, to be precise.

  Eusephus swung the sword across his body at the bounty hunter, but the bounty hunter recoiled back.

  Then Eusephus spun and whipped the flail at the encroaching soldiers. It hit one of them square in his chest and sent him careening into one of the buildings lining the street, but the others managed to avoid it.

  Eusephus’s eyes flared with vivid red light, and he cackled.

  Another soldier rushed over to help his downed comrade and called, “His weapons drain essence! They’ll kill you in one blow!”

  “They’ll fuel his magic, too,” the captain called. “Be cautious!”

  Kent didn’t understand what the soldiers were saying, but the soldier Eusephus had hit was clearly dead. What kind of magic was Eusephus using?

  Something evil, without question.

  Eusephus had just killed one of the soldiers. He’d kill more if he had the chance—that much was clear.

  As the skirmish raged on, Kent scanned the street for something he could use to help. A tent had collapsed nearby him, and along with it, its tentpoles.

  He slipped one out of the tent and held it up. At about ten feet, it was far too long to make a useful quarterstaff. Kent glanced back at the fight.

  The bounty hunter hurled a blue blast of magic—Kent didn’t know what kind—at Eusephus, but Eusephus batted the magic away with a well-timed blow from his flail. The blast exploded in a spatter of blue light, then it dissipated altogether.

  A soldier approached Eusephus with a shield of metal hovering in front of him. He also held a metal rod of some sort in his hand.

  Eusephus cackled again and batted the shield to the side with his flail. On his follow-up swing, he drove the spiked edge of his sword into the soldier’s chest.

  The soldier screamed at first, but his voice faded to nothing as his face shriveled to black, decayed skin. His hands crumpled into curled, arthritic hooks. Then the soldier dropped onto his back, his white teeth bared from his black skull.

  Eusephus’s eyes blazed with red light anew.

  Kent watched it all, horrified. It had to be dark magic. He’d never encountered it firsthand, but he’d heard tales of such things. Having seen light magic in action at the Temple of Laeri, it made sense that its antithesis should also exist.

  As the bounty hunter stormed in for another attempt, Kent leaned the tent post against a nearby building’s stone wall and braced it against the cobblestone street. Then he kick-stomped on it about three feet up from the ground. The pole snapped, leaving a sharp, splintered end where it had broken.

  Now about seven feet in length, the tentpole would work well as a long quarterstaff. More than sufficient for what Kent had in mind.

  He’d personally felled dozens of magic-wielding Inothians over the years, and they all shared a few common weaknesses. If Kent could exploit those weaknesses again today, he could help put an end to Eusephus’s terror.

  He turned back toward the battle.

  As Eusephus swung at the bounty hunter, his back turned toward Kent.

  Perfect. Kent rushed forward, clutching the tent rod as if it were a spear, with the jagged end facing toward Eusephus.

  The bounty hunter rolled away from Eusephus’s attacks, and as Kent expected, Eusephus rotated to take on whomever else might be coming for him. He had good battlefield awareness, which was part of why he’d proven so dangerous thus far.

  Eusephus’s irradiated eyes fixed on Kent, and he swung his flail.

  Chapter Five

  Kent’s tentpole would’ve never held up against a blow from either of Eusephus’s weapons. But if he maneuvered correctly, it wouldn’t matter.

  As Eusephus’s flail careened toward Kent’s head, Kent lowered his level and slid feet-first toward Eusephus. The flail howled over Kent’s head.

  Eusephus brought his sword around next, but he was too late.

  Kent’s feet collided hard with Eusephus’s shins, and Eusephus dropped to the street face-first, just on the other side of Kent’s legs. Then Kent sprung to his feet and brought the tentpole down hard on Eusephus’s head.

  Crack.

  Eusephus went limp. His eyes, still open, stopped glowing red, and the violet weapons in his hands evaporated into a purple mist that drifted away on the wind.

  Kent looked up. The bounty hu
nter stared at him with an expression caught somewhere between surprise and anger.

  Meanwhile, the soldiers encircled Kent and Eusephus, all with their hands up and holding various natural objects.

  “Back away from him,” one of them, a soldier with brown hair, said to Kent. “And put the stick down.”

  Kent tossed it to the side, raised his hands in surrender, and backed away.

  “Did you kill him?” the same soldier asked.

  “No,” Kent replied. “But you should check all the same.”

  “Stay back, alright?” the soldier said.

  Kent nodded and obliged, but the bounty hunter continued forward, closer.

  “And you.” The soldier pointed at the bounty hunter. “You’re under arrest.”

  “No, I’m not,” the bounty hunter replied. “I’m Ronin Shroud, a bounty hunter. This man is wanted for murder in three countries, and I’ve pursued him here to catch him and claim the bounty. I have documents to confirm my intentions and his identity.”

  “Then let’s see them.”

  Ronin Shroud produced the documents, and the soldier looked them over while his men checked Eusephus.

  “He’s breathing, Captain,” one of the other soldiers said. “Restrain him,” the captain ordered.

  Though Eusephus was still unconscious, the soldiers knelt on his back to keep him pinned while they clamped his wrists together with a pair of metal shackles colored a vivid blue. Kent had never seen anything like them before.

  “You didn’t do much of a job catching him,” the captain muttered.

  Ronin scowled at him. “It got done in the end.”

  “Seems more like that man deserves the bounty than you,” the captain remarked.

  “He’s not a bounty hunter,” Ronin said.

  “You do not know that,” Kent interjected.

  They both looked at him, and Ronin said, “Then let’s see your papers.”

  Kent smirked, but he didn’t say anything.

  “That’s what I thought.” Ronin sneered at him. “Besides, you haven’t been tracking him from Urthia for the last three months, have you?”

  Kent kept quiet. If Ronin was telling the truth, he likely knew Urthia better than Kent did. If they asked who Kent was, he’d have to change his story.

  Maybe this time Kent would claim to be from Etrijan, instead. He’d visited its capital city of Sefera a handful of times on diplomatic visits.

  “Again, that’s what I thought.” Ronin turned toward the soldier. “He’s mine, and so is the bounty.”

  “I won’t argue with you,” the captain said. “But I intend to make it known how poorly you handled this. He killed two of my men, caused extensive property damage, halted commerce on this street, and scared off the citizenry because you chose to engage him here.”

  “I—” Ronin hesitated. “I regret that his actions caused such turmoil, of course, but this carnage can hardly be attributed to me.”

  “He will doubtless pay for his crimes, but I will recommend to the royal treasury that a portion of your bounty should go toward helping the families of my men in the light of their demises.”

  “Their recompense should come from the satisfaction of knowing their loved ones’ murderer will be executed for his crimes, not from my pockets,” Ronin snapped. “I did not kill those men.” He pointed at Eusephus. “He did.”

  “But you chose to engage him in public rather than—”

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Captain.” Ronin held up his hand. “File your grievances, but give me the signature I rightfully deserve to submit my claim on his bounty.”

  The captain didn’t move.

  “It’s mandated by law, now that you’ve seen the required documentation, Captain.” Ronin extended the parchment forward. “Unless you intend to relinquish him into my care so that I may turn him in personally.”

  The captain frowned, but he extended his forefinger toward the parchment. It began to glow blue, like Kent’s hands had done so many times before, and he ran it across the parchment in a series of up-and-down motions.

  When he finished, he scowled at Ronin. “Get off my street, bounty hunter.”

  Ronin gave him a slight bow. “Much obliged, Captain.”

  He shot a sideways glance at Kent as he rolled up the parchment and tucked it inside his cloak again, and then he headed down a side street.

  Kent waited a moment, then he followed Ronin at a distance.

  It didn’t take long for Ronin to realize Kent was following him.

  Within five minutes of leaving the street where Kent had downed Eusephus, Ronin cut into an alley. When Kent followed, Ronin wasn’t there. Kent turned back to find Ronin standing right behind him, in the street again.

  Clever trick.

  Ronin shoved Kent into the alley and pinned him against a brick wall covered in thin, green vines. “Why are you following me?”

  Kent batted Ronin’s hands away and shoved him back hard.

  “Tough guy, are you?” Ronin glared at him and removed something from one of the pouches on his belt, but Kent didn’t see what it was. Then Ronin extended his right hand toward Kent’s feet.

  Something grabbed Kent’s legs, and he tried to scamper out of its grip, but it held him tightly. He nearly fell, but something else grabbed around his waist and anchored him in place.

  He looked down. The vines that had been on the wall had grown and stretched to entangle his legs and waist. They snaked up his back and snagged his arms all the way up to his wrists, pinning him against the wall.

  Kent strained against them. They gave slightly, but they held strong.

  Ronin advanced toward him. “Why are you following me?”

  “Half of that bounty should be mine,” Kent said.

  Ronin scoffed. “No, it shouldn’t.”

  “Do you want to know what you did wrong?” Kent asked.

  Ronin’s eyes narrowed, and he raised his right hand again.

  Vines scraped their way around Kent’s throat, and he tightened his jaw.

  Ronin said, “I could kill you.”

  “You are a bounty hunter,” Kent said. “Not a murderer. You catch criminals, but you are not one of them.”

  “Then I’ll just leave you here.”

  “No, you will not.” Kent glanced at the thin vines restraining his right arm. “For two reasons.”

  Ronin folded his arms. “Enlighten me.”

  “First of all, it will bother you not knowing what you did wrong, especially now that I have said something. And second…”

  Kent jerked his right arm forward, and the vines restraining him tore free of the wall. He mimicked the motion on his left side, then he quickly stripped the vines from his throat and leaned forward. He ignored the ones around his waist and legs for now.

  “…And second, you magic-users always overestimate your powers. These vines are too frail to hold someone with any physical strength whatsoever.”

  Ronin recoiled a step, but he didn’t re-engage the vines. “‘Magic-users?’ We’re called ‘mages.’ Where are you from that you don’t know that term?”

  “That is none of your concern.” Kent bent down and tore the vines from his left leg, then his right.

  As he did so, Kent noticed that the lower part of his right trouser leg had ripped, probably when he’d slid into Eusephus. Then he wrenched free of the vines around his waist and stepped forward again.

  Kent caught a glimpse of something green as Ronin stuffed the object in his left hand back into a pouch.

  “I’m not giving you any of my bounty,” Ronin said. “I earned that coin. All you did was show up.”

  “Yes. I showed up and ended the confrontation in five seconds,” Kent said. “Something you have failed to achieve for the last three months, by your own admission.”

  “It’s not that simple.” Ronin glowered at him.

  “But part of you agrees that I am entitled to some of those earnings.” Kent folded his arms. “You know splitt
ing the bounty is the right thing to do, especially since you were in over your head.”

  “I was not.”

  “How old are you, kid?” Kent asked. “Seventeen? Maybe nineteen?”

  “I’m twenty-six,” Ronin snapped. “And I’ve been a bounty hunter for the better part of five years now. Seven, if you count my apprenticeship.”

  “You were still definitely out of your league.”

  “I would’ve handled it.”

  “I think I deserve at least forty-five percent.” Kent grinned. “You keep the larger share since you were after him for so long.”

  “You won’t get a single coin. He’s my bounty, and I’ve got the parchment to prove it,” Ronin said. “You’ve got nothing.”

  “Then why are you still talking to me?”

  “I don’t—” Ronin’s eyes narrowed, and he turned down the alley. “I’m leaving now.”

  “Do you want to know what you did wrong?” Kent called after him.

  Ronin didn’t stop. “No.”

  “I mean, aside from underestimating him and engaging him in a public place?”

  Now Ronin stopped. He turned back. “Are you looking for a fight, old man?”

  Kent smirked. “Please. You would not last three minutes with me.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” Ronin reached into another of his pouches.

  “Your mistake was the same mistake I capitalized upon to end the confrontation as quickly as I did.”

  Ronin froze. He swallowed. “Fine. Tell me what it was so I can get out of here.”

  Kent shook his head. “There is still the issue of how we will split the bounty.”

  Ronin’s face scrunched, then it relaxed. “I’ll give you fifteen percent. Not a coin more.”

  Kent extended his hand.

  Ronin hesitated at first, but then he shook it.

  Kent smiled and released his grip. “I would have accepted a hot meal and a change of clothes.”

  Ronin glared at him. “So what did I do wrong?”

  “I will tell you,” Kent said, “over that hot meal. And I would like to ask you some questions in return.”

  “I don’t have time for this, old man.”