The Red Rider

by Billy Wong

  He started away, and Herbert tried to stop him. "She still saved you."

  "Let it go," she said sobbing, dizzy and full of hate for herself. She felt like such an evil, monstrous person, who didn't deserve to reconcile with family at all. She should suffer forever, after the suffering she'd caused others. "He only got in trouble because of me in the first place. I'm no use to anyone. I should probably go die soon."

  Her father left, Herbert glaring after him. It took half an hour before he could convince Red to get up from the floor. "Don't be so hard on yourself," he said hugging her. "It was an honest mistake—you never mean to harm anything but a werewolf."

  She tried to look into his eyes, but couldn't make out more than a vague image of his face through the haze of tears. "Yeah, but I killed an innocent woman. What can I ever do to make up for that? Don't answer, I know already—I never can."

  "You've saved a lot of other people..."

  "And? I bet that'll be worth a lot to the family I destroyed."

  They exited the monastery, to go where Red had no idea. She certainly didn't think to go back to her hometown, so they headed aimlessly east, maybe to report their "success" to Evie, but she wasn't really sure. She walked in silence, making Herbert observe her with a perpetual worried frown. Eventually, she said, "Maybe I should offer my life to the man whose wife I killed. At least my blood on his hands might ease the unrest surely in his heart."

  "No! What would the point of that be? Sacrificing yourself wouldn't bring her back. You have such great abilities, with which you can continue to aid other people. Just accept that you made a mistake and move on."

  "In the old kingdom, the law would have me killed for a mistake like that."

  His voice took on a calmer tone. "Not necessarily. Sometimes, people who worked for the kingdom got away with worse."

  Red thought about it. "I suppose that makes sense, considering what the 'lords' let their underlings get away with now. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't take responsibility."

  "You shouldn't take responsibility by dying. That'd just be a waste."

  "But what else can I do, to atone for ending an innocent life?"

  Neither of them spoke again for a while. Then Herbert said, "What if you just worked harder to help others?"

  "I would want to do that. Except, we already do about as much as we can hunting werewolves."

  They walked on, Red's limbs heavy. She felt an urge to swoon like a damsel in one of the old court plays, and let Herbert carry her while she tried to forget the misdeed that had damned her. But she couldn't burden him—couldn't burden another person—further, and so trudged on.

  Only a day had passed when Herbert tapped her back. Her gaze had been downcast, hence he would've seen anything first. "Red, look." She raised her eyes to regard an armed force marching down the road towards them. It was perhaps a thousand strong, a lot bigger than what was typically seen in the land these days. The sun glinted off bright armor, and long banners rippled in the wind. "That flag—those are the old kingdom's colors!"

  She didn't know what that meant, and probably neither did he, until the force got closer and they spotted Prince Aidan at its head. She also noticed the people further back in the column looked to be disparately dressed and armored. A bit of a ragtag army, besides the prince's shining guard.

  Aidan greeted them heartily. "Sir Herbert and the lovely Red!" Some soldiers behind him looked at her with admiration, but more with fear. "Long time no see, are you well?"

  "We're fine," Herbert said. "Quite an uncharacteristic entourage you have there, Your Highness."

  "So my company leads you to use formalities, eh? Well, I am on campaign, not in a brothel."

  "On campaign? What do you mean?"

  "I mean that I, Prince Aidan of the High Realm, seek to free the long-suffering city of Barnault from the clutches of the cruel Lord Errol. You're awfully quiet, Red," he added, turning an eye on her.

  "I didn't think you had an interest in politics anymore," she found herself saying.

  Aidan bowed his head. "I didn't. But after that glorious battle with the werewolf king fired my spirit, I realized I should get over myself and make a difference again. Perhaps it's time for this land to stand under one banner again."

  "You want to rule in your uncle's place?" Herbert asked. "Seems a little late to decide that."

  "Rule? Maybe not so much. I have little interest in power for its own sake. Yet the people of this, well... former nation might feel safer with a net of safety back over their heads."

  "Bottom line, you want authority over the country to be yours," Red said.

  He smiled. "I don't deny it. So Herbert, how about you join me? You too, Red. You may be used to battling wolves, but you're a magnificent fighter, and after we succeed, I can give you the resources you need to kill all the werewolves you want. How about it?"

  All this had happened so fast, she couldn't think of a response. "Maybe we should do it," Herbert said into her ear. "This is our chance to help people on a bigger scale than killing a werewolf or two at a time, and like he said, later you can use your favor with him to help you kill more wolves."

  "And you can get steady pay again, right?" At that, Aidan laughed.

  Herbert shrugged helplessly. "You know me too well."

  "Can we trust him, though?" she whispered. "His reputation isn't exactly spotless."

  "I've known him for a long time, and while he might be impulsive now and then, I think he's an honorable person. He helped us out before, remember? And don't assume too much based on what you've seen. Once he gets a big goal in his head, he works hard and doesn't give up easily on it."

  She supposed she couldn't just go back to hunting werewolves like nothing had happened after learning what she had. Fighting to reunite the country wasn't really a way to atone for her wrongful killing, but she could probably fool herself into thinking it was given enough time. For all people might have complained about the monarchy in the past, they seemed to suffer without one. "Maybe I'll give it a chance. But if there's a problem, I'm out."

  Herbert nodded. "Then we'll make sure Aidan understands that. It shouldn't be an issue. Everyone knows you're a wild dog."

  "You mean bitch?"

  He chuckled. "Haha. No, though. You're not—far from it."

  The werewolves probably thought otherwise, but she had little respect for their opinion. She addressed Aidan. "All right, I agree to help you on the condition that we're not considered bound to your service, and are free to leave anytime we choose."

  The prince raised an eyebrow, but said, "Sure. I'd hardly rely on a wanderlusting sort like you. But while you're here, you can be my left hand in battle."

  "Left hand? So who's the right... Leviatha?"

  "No, Leviatha is busy tending to matters at home, though she won't oppose me if I don't make things too hard on her. So let me introduce my right hand. Chaser!"

  At the call, a tall braided man with tan skin shouldered his way through the mass of soldiers to Aidan's side. He wore a great curved sword on his back, the fancy hilt looming over one shoulder like a gallows. "Chaser, huh?" Red asked. "Where you get that name from?"

  The warrior didn't answer before Aidan replied, "He's a humble sort, but we call him that because it's what he'll do, relentlessly, if one ever starts retreating from him. At that point, you're doomed."

  "Huh." Though they were presumably to be allies, she began to size the man up. Meeting Leviatha had reinforced the value of doing so in her mind, after all. His long arms combined with his blade would give him a big edge in reach over her, but what else was new? He wasn't huge, somewhat on the lean side for his height, but his wiry muscles gave an impression of strength. She had plenty of her own. As for what advantages she had over him? Well, she figured she was a smaller target, and-

  "You're my second?" Chaser asked. "You seem weak." He looked to Herbert. "He would be better than you."

  Even though she had been so down on herself just minutes ago, her c
ompetitive spirit had been roused and her blood ran lively through her in spite of everything else. "I'm small. You've yet to see if I'm weak."

  "Now now," Prince Aidan said, "remember there's a talk we've been meaning to have with Lord Errol. The proverbial cock measuring can come later."

  Red turned away from Chaser and fell in line as the march resumed. "I don't have a cock," she muttered.

  Herbert shook his head exasperatedly. "He did say 'proverbial.'"

  "As if I know what that word means. Has to do with a division of land, right?"

  #

  They traveled southwest to the city of Barnault. The soldiers on the thick, rough walls of yellow stone saw them coming, and Lord Errol met them outside with a force of his own. Red stood to Aidan's left at his insistence; whether for the sake of appearances or his amusement, she wasn't sure. Herbert stayed to her left. Though their side had more men, at least for the moment, she feared they would lose any advantage if a fight broke out and the enemy successfully retreated behind the gates. Too, for all she was used to mortal combat, she had no experience in storming a city while engaged in mass conflict.

  A nondescript middle aged man in expensive clothes under a breastplate, Errol greeted Prince Aidan with a sneer. Though not very fat, the mustached noble looked somehow less solid than Herbert did these days. "And what have I done to earn a visit from the renowned Kingkiller?"

  "Respected Lord Errol. I hear your people are unhappy with you. Maybe you ought to stop punishing them so harshly over any suspicion of them besmirching your name."

  "And how am I supposed to keep order if I allow them to rebel freely?"

  "Some harsh words hardly constitute rebellion." The corners of Aidan's mouth turned up in something between a smile and a smirk. "But if you continue to egg them on, it won't be long before you water the seeds for a full blown revolution. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you already have."

  At first Errol just glared at Aidan, then his nerve broke under the latter's infinitely confident gaze. "What do you mean?"

  "What I'm saying is, I don't think you'll last long here if things keep going the way they are. Even if you ease up now, you've almost certainly already angered someone enough that they'll strike soon, and in that case you'll have no choice but to punish them in order not to look weak. Yet that will only further fuel the discontent already running rampant in your city."

  The anger in the lord's eyes became diluted with fear, but his voice remained terse. "And should I assume you have a solution to propose?"

  "Why, yes, of course. You'll acknowledge me as your liege, and in exchange I'll make sure the people know your lapse of judgment in becoming a tyrant is over, and your authority shall continue to be recognized... as my vassal."

  "And what will that entail?" he demanded.

  "Not so much. You will follow the laws of the land, and cooperate with me when I require the odd small favor. And some portion of your taxes will be needed to fund the central government, of course."

  "You just want my money."

  Aidan smiled pleasantly. "Not at all. I want our people to feel safe and unifed again. Money is just something required for it."

  Errol gave a snort which carried less energy than he'd probably hoped. "You're not so strong. I could easily field more men than you have with you."

  "Maybe." The prince indicated his left and right hands, Red and Chaser who he stood between. "But these two would probably kill you before you come close to getting back in your city." The lord paled, and he continued, "The lady of Leviathan Valley, my cousin Duke Carrol, and the Earl of Bluestone have already pledged their allegiance to me. Unless you kill me today, I can easily come back with a larger army to starve out your pampered arse."

  He looked mad. His hand twitched, if to reach for a weapon Red wasn't sure. In the blink of an eye, Chaser stepped forward, the scimitar flashing from its scabbard. A stain blossomed over Errol's pants at the razor edge touching his neck, just parting the skin to draw a tiny trickle of blood. Red blinked, not sure she had ever seen a person move faster... although, she herself might be able to match him. If Chaser had been an instant slower, archers would have loosed before he reached their master—but now, they didn't dare.

  "I... suppose it's time for a unified land," Errol said, his voice small. Behind Red, Aidan's men cheered.

  "He relies a lot on intimidation, doesn't he?" she asked Herbert.

  "Yeah. But it works when he's got the likes of you around."

  She pushed him. "I can hardly take any credit for that just now. Glad it went smoothly, at least." And she knew it wouldn't always be so easy. She sensed a time would come when she'd need to spill much human blood, and looked to it with dread.

  Chapter 7

  It seemed unlikely she would be visiting Evie anytime soon, so Red sent her a letter to inform her of her "success." Their father would probably tell her himself, but just in case the message got lost... On the road after the army left Barnault, she and Herbert were approached by a pair of grimy-faced young soldiers in basic studded leather armor. "So you're the famous Red Rider, killer of werewolves?" the stockier of the two asked in a bright voice, both their demeanors making her wonder if they'd ever seen real combat. They were just a few years younger than her at most, but she could only wish she still had their innocence. "I thought you'd be bigger."

  Her height was average, but she had more muscle than most women her size. "Fighters come in all shapes and sizes. I'm big enough. What are your names, then?"

  "I'm Scott"—he indicated his taller, slimmer companion—"and this is my cousin Eric."

  She shook their hands and introduced Herbert, who did so too. "As for me, you can call me Red."

  Eric nodded enthusiastically. "That's kind of clever. Wouldn't fit too well if you didn't have clothes on, though." At her frown, he added hastily, "Sorry, that came out wrong."

  "Anyway," Scott said, "we have a friend who'll be really happy to meet you. Tonya!"

  A girl came up beside them, looking similar to the boys in terms of dirtiness and clothing but just with longer hair. "Hey guys, what's going on?" She spotted Red, and her eyes grew intrigued. "Who's this?"

  "It's your favorite famous warrior," Eric replied, "the Red Rider!"

  "Oh, wow! You're so amazing, I always wanted to meet you! I love how you show a woman can fight as well as a man, and fight superhuman monsters on top of that..."

  Red looked down, not feeling like she deserved such reverence. "I'm not that special, just good at killing things. That doesn't make me a better person." Then she thought of something. She might not be a better person, but was a better warrior than most. If she imparted some of her skills to these kids, it might improve their chances to survive the battles to come. "I would like to see how you all fight when we get a break, though."

  For now though, the march continued. The soldiers introduced another friend of theirs, a big youth named Jon who carried a heavy flail. They all eagerly asked her and Herbert to tell stories of their adventures, and despite feeling overly lauded she couldn't help being warmed by their enthusiasm. Even considering the gap in experience, they were close to her own age, and for the first time in a long time she felt almost like part of a group. Herbert seemed less pleased by the attention though, and soon began to talk less except when directly spoken to.

  When they stopped to rest, Red had the friends attack her in order to gauge their abilities. Eric was surprisingly the most skilled, quick with his sword and possessed of good timing. Scott needed to guard more actively with his shield, and Red asked Herbert to work with him on it. Jon relied too much on his size and weight, a flaw she figured Herbert could correct since he was a fellow big male but more skilled. Tonya seemed too small for the greatsword she carried. She could swing it of course, but Red wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to wield the awkward thing with more than passing speed and efficiency considering her frame. Red didn't even think she would find such a blade ideal despite her uncommon strength.

&
nbsp; "I think maybe you should consider a change of weapon," she suggested.

  Tonya shook her head. "But it's my family's sword. My mother fought bravely using it, and I want to make her proud by doing so too."

  "Is your mother the same size as you?"

  "She's a few inches taller, and wider built."

  "Then I'd wager she's a tad more suited to that clunker than you." Red smiled. "It's no shame to acknowledge your own strengths and weaknesses. Doing so will help you develop into the best warrior you can be."

  Tonya's gaze shifted to her knives. "You're about the same size as me," she said excitedly. Tonya might be a little smaller, even. "What if you taught me to fight the way you do?"

  "Ah... I was thinking more for you to learn to fight using a one-handed sword and shield, or spear. Something suited to mass combat, which my style isn't particularly."

  "I've heard of you doing well in a big battle. You're not going to adopt a different style while in the army, are you?"

  Red bit her lip. "Probably not. That's just because I'm already comfortable with it, though. Since you aren't so set in your ways, I figure it'd be better for you to start with a style more suited to the situation."

  "But I really really want to be like you! If you want me to know how to use a shield, I can train that too. But it's not like I'll always be fighting in mass engagements. I want you to show me how to use knives like you, and I'll also learn whatever else you want me to."

  She wasn't sure how well Tonya could learn both styles splitting her time between the two, but then if she refused her apparent fangirl, she might become too stubborn to give up using her family heirloom at all. Red would rather not see her run into battle swinging that unwieldy greatsword. "Alright, fine. You can spend some time with me practicing knives, and some with Herbert learning sword and shield."

  "Yes ma'am!"

  The youths seemed to grow on Herbert as they practiced, for they worked hard and show genuine interest in improving. He was tough on them and humbled them more than Red tended to, but they didn't complain, ever trying their best to do better.