by Billy Wong
Later when they were on the road again, Red heard a raspy voice at her back. "You're going to get the little girl killed." A look identified the speaker as Aidan's right hand Chaser. The braided man stood just behind her, and she felt unnerved at how close he'd gotten without her noticing. Herbert's expression showed he shared her unease.
"With my knife style? I told her it wasn't ideal. But it's a compromise, to get her to learn some more practical things too."
"You should have been more stern with her. Bending to the wishes of babes is hardly wise."
"You have your way of doing things and I have mine. I like to make people happy too, not only keep them alive." The latter did take priority, but a bit of the former could also help in that regard. "By the way, I'm not that much older than her to be calling her a babe."
He tilted his head. "It's hard to tell with those veins distracting from the rest of your face."
It angered her more than it might've coming from someone else, given her bad feeling about the man. "At least they're functional, unlike those piercings. Why, in a hand to hand fight they'd be ripe for ripping out."
"Men have tried. One, I tore off his nose." He held up a hand, thick fingers hooked to give the impression of claws.
"Sounds barbaric," Herbert said.
"He was fat like you."
"How did you and Aidan get together?" Red asked. "You don't seem like you'd get along."
"Men like me are needed in times of war. Lane introduced us, and he realized the value I would have for his cause."
"I see."
"Your little knives aren't suited for war."
Red sighed. "Repeating yourself, already?"
He looked down at her like he would a child. "No. Before I was speaking for her. Now I'm talking about you."
"I've done fine with them against strong warriors before."
"In duels. Not battles."
Herbert put in, "The battle at Leviathan Valley was a pretty big battle."
"You have no defense against arrows."
"And what do you have, your sword?" And armor, but she figured she would get some too the next chance she could. "I have my speed, and I've deflected a projectile or two with my blades before."
He fingered the hilt of his scimitar. "Think your speed can match mine?"
"Nice change of subject." Red figured he was trying to goad her into a match, to assert his superiority over her here and now. She had no strong desire to fight, but she wouldn't mind it either. Who knows, she just might surprise him...
"Cock measuring again?" Prince Aidan shouted from somewhere nearby. "Save your strength, at least until after the next goal." Chaser grunted and strode away.
"Pleasant fellow, huh?" Red asked Herbert.
"You seem like you'd make a good couple."
She shook her head. "I'd marry you off to him first, fat man."
#
They persuaded two more lords to join the prince's cause without a need for violence; apparently, many tired of chaos' reign over the land and wished for a return to order. Aidan didn't talk to Herbert as much as she would've expected; she figured the prince might be avoiding too much conversation with subordinates to try and seem more leaderlike. When their force approached the manor of one Count Selgin deep within a thick forest, however, they were peppered by a volley of arrows from the roof before they could even announce themselves. Three soldiers fell dead, and a couple more were injured including Eric who took one in the arm. Red helped him bind the wound and asked if he needed to fall back, but he declined. She admired his bravery, and hoped it didn't get him killed.
As they had already been attacked and lost comrades, Aidan could hardly let the affront go unanswered. The army withdrew out of arrow range, built a ram from a big old tree, and returned to smash the gates down. Then they were rushing into the keep, men-at-arms falling screaming before them as they fought their way deeper inside. The shouting and clashing of weapons around her filled her ears, and she worried that her sharp hearing wouldn't be the advantage it usually was. She didn't have much room to evade with so many fighters close by, and had to rely on smaller dodges and parries. Slashing down man after man, she found to her surprise and sadness that it didn't feel all that different from killing werewolves. More precisely, she couldn't bring herself to feel much guilt. Maybe she had gotten so used to killing things which looked human that her psyche found it easy to take the next step, or maybe she'd used up all her guilt after finding out she'd murdered a woman for no reason.
Charging up stairs behind Aidan—the prince led by example, that much you could say about him—Red was met by a well-dressed youth she took to be the count's son or grandson. He blocked one knife strike with his fine thin sword, so she shoved him hard against the wall, banging the back of his head into it. He dropped his blade, and ignoring the sweet smell of his cologne, she made to finish him off. Then she started as she realized something. His face, slender and clean shaven, looked so much like that of the werewolf king—the second one—she'd killed. Even though she doubted there was any actual relationship, she had a revelation. While they might be evil, considering they slaughtered people when they needn't to survive, born werewolves weren't that different from their victims. They were equally thinking creatures, after all, and she wondered how she had treated them like mere animals for so long. She probably hadn't wanted to consider the implications of them being as human as they were, and convinced herself not to. But even turned werewolves had once been like her, and how much of their thoughts and feelings they retained she could not truly know.
In her moment of distraction, the young noble recovered enough to draw a dagger and throw himself at her. She sidestepped, sliced a blade through his spine so that he crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. She'd think about ethical issues later, after the task was done. The head of their force—Aidan, Chaser, herself, Herbert, and a few others—drove the last of Count Selgin's guards into the dining hall where he waited. Seeing them enter, the short old man waved for his men to stand down and poured himself a glass of wine.
"I suppose this is it for me."
"Why did you attack us?" Aidan asked. "You must have known you had no chance."
"There was no justice in the kingdom when your uncle sat the throne. Order, yes, but justice? You think you can dodge the pitfalls that brought him low. But too much power corrupts any man."
"If you joined me, you could have advised me on how to avoid that."
"It wouldn't have worked. By defying you now, I stir up a distrust that will hopefully unite others against you."
The prince snapped, "You judge me not even for what I am, but what you think I'll become?"
Count Selgin slowly finished his drink before replying again. "I don't think, I know. I have a last request. Grant me a duel of champions."
"But you're so old," Red said. "Which of us could you defeat? Surrender and maybe Prince Aidan will grant you mercy—right, Aidan?"
"I don't want mercy! Why don't you fight me, girl, and prove your loyalty?"
She stiffened. "I..."
Chaser smiled. "Yes. Prove your loyalty."
But she'd already killed for them. She just didn't want to kill this man, who seemed so frail and defenseless and selflessly motivated. She thought about it for a moment longer, then breathed, "Fine." She stepped forward. "Come at me, ancient one! Your time is past."
He drew his longsword and ran at her, swinging it in both hands. She parried and punched him once in the jaw, sprawling him across the carpet to lie motionless. "He's done," she said, sheathing her blades. "It wouldn't be honorable to execute an unconscious man. So I guess we'll have to take him prisoner."
"You delay the inevitable," Chaser growled, though Aidan looked conflicted.
"Maybe. But I guess I proved you wrong about my light girl fists." She held up her balled hand. "One punch!"
"On an old man's chin."
"Then how about later, we test it out on yours?"
#
&nb
sp; Red tried to convince Aidan not to have the count killed, and Herbert helped out, saying that executing him would make him a martyr like he wanted. So instead of putting him to death, the prince decided to take him along with his wife back to Duke Carrol's city which he used for now as a base of operations. Along the way, Red said to Herbert, "Maybe after this is done, instead of going back to hunting werewolves we could look for a cure instead."
"I thought there was no cure."
"There's none known. But maybe one can be found."
He frowned. "Some of them are born that way, though—can a being's nature really be cured?"
"Maybe the born ones can't. The turned ones at least used to be human, and I think it would be great if they could get a second chance. Perhaps I accepted too readily before that they couldn't."
Herbert patted her shoulder. "I approve of your compassion."
"I'm still a brutal monster," she said with a wink. "Just trying to become less of one so that I'll be more attractive."
"And less so to Chaser?"
"Maaaybe."
They continued to help Scott, Jon, and Tonya train while Eric rested, and Jon was especially impressed by her one-shot knockout of the armed count. She advised him not to try replicating the deed unless he had no better options. Throwing a punch too readily in a swordfight could easily lead to losing one's arm, and life.
When they got to the grand oceanside city of Medoe, Herbert invited the four youths to join him and Red in unwinding at a tavern. She wasn't sure this was the best idea, but supposed she could keep an eye on them. Soon they all sat around a big round table, eating shrimp between drinks. She had taken off her cloak at the prodding of the soldiers to do so, her cooperation perhaps indicative of her comfort around them, and felt almost normal.
"So I don't think we ever asked you, Red," Scott said, "what do you like to do for fun when you're not kicking ass?"
"You mean like, hobbies?" She grew tense. "I don't know that I really have any... never took the time to develop them."
Jon spoke with his mouth full, making his words come out all mumbled. "Come on, you have to have a hobby. Even if it's just playing with yourself while thinking of you like Tonya here."
"Shut up, asshole!" Tonya cried, and punched him.
To Red's surprise, Jon returned the favor, his large fist sending her right off her chair. She got up with a pout while Scott laughed, and Red feared they might fight in earnest. But then Tonya just walked back to the table, sat down and grinned bashfully as if to say "fair play" after she had thrown the first blow. Red expected she'd get a nice bruise on her cheek to show for it.
"So, uh, you really have a thing for me?" she asked.
Tonya didn't meet her gaze. "No."
"It's okay if you do. I mean, I don't think I'd be interested in women, but I don't mind if..."
"It's just a stupid joke the boys make because they pretend I'm a boy. Doesn't mean anything."
Red had noticed how the others invariably treated Tonya just like another man, and though some might think of that as respect, she wasn't certain if the girl might not want to be recognized more for being female. Still, she didn't know them that well to be sure of their group dynamics.
"Back to hobbies," Herbert said, "Red here sews. That might be kind of like a hobby."
"Except I mostly sew to fix my clothes."
Scott got up to put his arm around her. "Then maybe we could get you a hobby. There's this game we play in our hometown called Slapball..."
"It might be better to teach her how to cook," Eric suggested. "That way it'll be easier for her to find a man when she finally decides to settle down."
"I can cook," she said. "Fast food."
"Fast food?" Jon asked.
"It's my term for quick eats on the road. Not the most delicately prepared, but tasty enough. I supposed I could graduate to slow food when I have the opportunity."
They continued to chat pleasantly until the room suddenly grew quieter and Red looked up to see Chaser walking through the door. Even though he probably didn't have a single thought for most of the customers, his mere presence made them uneasy. He could have just been here for a drink, but it seemed more plausible he came to visit her.
He went to the bar and purchased a mug of something, but his approach after proved her right. "You should have killed him," he said, looming over their table and making the youngsters fidget nervously. "Alive, he'll stand as a voice against Aidan."
"What voice will he have in prison?" she asked. "He wanted to die, to be a martyr. Now that he hasn't, it'll serve to show the prince's compassion instead of what the old man wished for others to see in him."
"But if he's freed?"
"Who says he will be freed?"
Chaser walked around to her back, making her feel very uncomfortable. "You won't kill him. Do you plan on keeping him locked up forever? That might be a fate crueler than death."
"Maybe until Prince Aidan's power is secure." Besides, he's old anyway, she thought involuntarily but didn't say. She would feel bad if he died in captivity, but doubted she could get the prince to let him off the hook completely after he'd had his men attack them.
"Perhaps that would be feasible. But there's something else I think we should settle today."
Red could tell well enough what he intended from the tone of his voice. She stood up, her companions instinctively following along, and faced him. Though she had faced many hostile creatures bigger than her, looking up still naturally made her feel a slight sense of inferiority. "So what, you want to assert your dominance over me?"
He dipped his chin in an understated nod. "I'm the right hand, and you the left. You should do well to remember that."
"What does the left-right placement matter? You're just there to look scary and fight when needed, same as me."
"That's fairly accurate. But I'm above you."
"Why? You think you can fight better?"
Most of the customers, a good few of whom were from their army, had made their way to the fringes of the tavern by now. "Let's test that."
She might have been eager to try her hand at teaching this quietly arrogant bastard a lesson, except for one thing. "Wouldn't Prince Aidan frown upon us shedding each other's bl-"
He sucker punched her in the mouth, making her stumble back. "Then let's do it with our fists!" Living up to his moniker, he immediately pursued, peppering her hurriedly raised forearms with rapid punches. In a few seconds, she felt over a dozen hard impacts—damn, he was fast. He looped a hook around her guard, sending it home on her jaw. It spun her away to reel against the bar. He attempted to lunge after her, but she leaned aside this time from his straight punch and retaliated with a backhand followed by a hook that drove him back.
Chaser wiped his split lip. "You finally fight back."
"I stopped the chase," she said with a grin.
He scowled. "I don't have my sword out. And it's hardly over yet." He ran at her, faked an overhand punch and kicked her in the stomach. Stepping back, she slipped on drink spilled over the polished wood and struggled to keep her balance. Chaser's eyes lit up and he launched into a high kick that should never have connected. His heel crashed into her forehead, making her see a flash of white. Staggering back, she regained her vision, saw him advancing with his hands low and thought she could punish him. She threw a spinning kick... he ducked into range and blasted her chin with a powerful punch. Her eyes rolled back in their sockets, and she dropped to her knees. As she swayed there dazed, he blasted her with an uppercut. She flew backwards, seemingly falling for a long time before her body slammed down hard against the ground.
"Red!" Herbert yelled as she tried woozily to roll over, seeing her hand claw without much purpose at the floor.
"Uhhn..." she groaned. She really wanted to get up, but the world was spinning like crazy and... She rolled to her back, placing the back of her hand against her forehead. Even in her dizziness, she realized how weak and defeated she must look, and felt embarras
sed that her young trainees were seeing this.
Footsteps approached. Forcing her eyes open, she saw that Chaser walked towards her with his fist raised to hit her again. Desperately, she kicked up to flip him over her. Using the seconds she had bought herself, she flopped onto her belly and tried to push herself up. Her arms gave out and she fell back with a gasp. A shadow fell over her. "Give up?" Chaser asked, mockingly extending a hand.
"N-never," she breathed, barely propping herself up on her elbows, blood dripping from her mouth. He kicked her in the face as she tried to rise again, knocking her to her back. He bent over her and rained down punches, heavy thudding blows the increasingly aimless flailing of her hands could not ward. Her strength seemed to drain away, and her arms began to settle downward. The room grew silent as Red went limp.
Chaser landed two more brutal hammers to her unresponsive face, then grasped one of her arms by the wrist. He lifted it up, showing off the small, still hand. "Done." He dropped it. Her knuckles thumped upon the floor, fingers not moving so much as a twitch, and it looked to be all over. But then her limb tensed and shot back up, hand closing into a fist just before it struck his kneecap. She could've grabbed his groin and twisted, but didn't want to take it that far. He grabbed his knee and stumbled; she spun on her back and swept her leg into ankles, taking his feet out from under him. Before he could react, she raised a boot over his chest and dropped it down repeatedly into his sternum. He caught her leg and shoved forcefully up, in response to which she rolled away and into a crouch.
"Red! Red! Red! Red!" much of the tavern was cheering now.
She put a hand on her thigh to help steady herself as she stood up. "Not done," she said, wiping at the blood that came from her nose only to find it gushing out too fast for that to be of much use. "My head's pretty hard, has to be considering how many times I've survived being tossed around by werewolves." She raised her fists. "Time for round two?"
Chaser continued to rub his knee; apparently, she had gotten him pretty good after catching him off guard. "Any more blows to the head and you might fall over dead. Prince Aidan wouldn't want me to kill you. So we'll settle this another time." He limped past her and out the door, and she couldn't resist the temptation to give him a kick to the butt while he passed. He glared at her, but kept walking.
