The Red Rider

by Billy Wong

  He blinked, himself dripping red. "The giant woman? What does that matter, even if it were true? You lost to her, twice."

  "That's not the point. If she beat you, would you think it justified if she raped you? Would you like being raped?"

  "A woman can't rape a man! That's nonsense." But he had hesitated before answering, and she knew she'd gotten to him.

  She blocked a swing of his scimitar with both knives and pushed forward to press her body against his. "I'll prove that wrong. I'm going to rape you..." He drew his head back as if for a headbutt, but she leaned forward and clamped her teeth over his chin. Shaking her head back and forth like a dog, she ripped and tore—and pulled free a big chunk of flesh. She wondered if that was bone she saw... spitting it out, her stomach threatening to rebel, she forced a wide, crazy smile.

  "W-what the..?" Chaser began, holding his chin.

  He stared at her changed, purposely incomprehensible demeanor as she advanced, the huge smile frozen on her face. She bobbed her head up and down while she battered at his guard, making sparks fly off his scimitar. Chaser looked very confused. She got a knife past his defenses and plunged it down into his shoulder. She forced him down to his knees and kneed him in the nose, exploding it in a waterfall of blood. "You are the one who will be my victim!"

  "But how... can you... you're a..."

  "I will not explain for such an undeserving dog as you!" She tried to finish him by plunging her knife down through the top of his skull, but he caught her wrist and stopped it. He then dragged his blade across her ribs, laying them open. "Ah..." she gasped.

  He shoved her away, stood and slashed down, cleaving her left breast practically in two. "Where's your female power now?" he asked as she reeled in agony. He struck again, another cut to the chest dropping her to her knees. "Rambling won't save you."

  He aimed a downward stroke at her head. She rolled backwards and up, thinking angrily to go back on the offense. But he was already on her, slashing wildly, and gave her no room for anything beyond defense. Strips of silver coating hung from her blades as his strikes peeled it away. She stepped back to try and make space only for him to pursue, and nearly tripping over her feet in her haste she remembered what Aidan had said about retreating from him. People who did tended not to survive.

  But she could be the one to buck that trend. She stalled him for a moment with a kick to his knee, turned her back and ran. He took up the chase, naturally. Sprinting at the small tree she had reclined against before, she ran up its trunk, flipped backwards to land behind him in a crouch. Before he could turn, she stuck a knife between his legs and brought it up, ripping his groin. Chaser screamed. He faced her clumsily, doubled over desperately clutching his manhood. Red kicked the sword from his other hand, then dropped him to his back with a front kick to the chin. She sliced him twice more between the legs, making him howl in anguish and roll over on his side. It might not be a proper castration, but she figured it should get the job done. She heard movement up the hill and looked to see Aidan top it, along with Herbert and some soldiers. Jon, Eric, and Tonya were there, and she wondered how much they would help her if need be. She hoped they wouldn't get in trouble for her sake.

  "What is going on?" the prince asked.

  She reached down, retrieved her note from Chaser's pouch and handed it—now stained with blood—to him. "I challenged him to a duel. He accepted."

  "Duels were legal even in the old kingdom with consent," Herbert said. "You can't punish her for this."

  "I suppose I can't. I guess this proves the left hand is stronger than the right."

  Or craftier, at least. Red saw Chaser reach for his scimitar in the corner of her eye and spun to defend herself. But instead of attacking, he turned the blade around and fell on it, impaling it through his heart. He glared hatefully at her and fell over, his dark blood soaking the grass as his eyes fixed. "Looks like being unmanned disgraced him too much to live," she said after a moment.

  "So what now? Are you at least going to stay with me, or am I to lose both my hands?"

  She stared. "You'd still have me after this?"

  Aidan averted his gaze. "I probably should've been more firm after finding out what he did, but couldn't bring myself to risk losing a reliable aid. It'd be as justified to thank you as anything, for acting as my conscience."

  Red put hands on her hips and looked down, feeling conflicted. At last, she said, "I don't think you're so bad. But I feel like you might not have the will to be a good leader for the whole country, and this kind of fighting isn't for me. I'm done. Hopefully you'll see things clearly soon, too."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean whether you really want to take responsibility for everyone, and if it's worth it to you."

  He frowned, then Herbert left his side and came to hers. "I'm going too. She has a point, Aidan. You should think about it."

  "Wait! You can help me find my proper path. I'd be happy to get guidance from a pretty girl."

  "I'm not really that qualified to give it."

  "I'll pay you more money."

  Herbert, she was grateful to see, shook his head. "It's not about that. You shouldn't expect others to follow if you don't know where you're going."

  Red thought she saw Aidan give a slight, grudging nod before she turned and started away. Her whole body hurt like hell, but she'd wait until she was out of sight before showing her weakness. "Hope those kids will be okay," she said to Herbert while they descended the hill.

  "Hope so too. But what are we going to do now that you don't want to hunt werewolves anymore?"

  "We can still hunt them. I want to be able to cure them in the future, but until we have a way to do that, they'll still have to be killed to save innocent people. We'll just do research in the meantime about possible cures, too."

  "That makes sense. Back to the life of a wandering vagabond..."

  They reached the bottom of the slope, and Red sat on a rock to treat her hurts. Herbert helped her. She bore a lot of them, and some deep. But none was as bad as when she and Leviatha had been pinned together on the giantess' broken blade, and she figured she'd live.

  While Herbert cleaned a particularly nasty gash in her thigh, making her clench her teeth in pain, she heard a voice call her name. "Red! Glad you didn't go that far yet." Tonya ran towards them, alone. "Mind if I tag along too?"

  Herbert gave her a questioning look. "You snuck away?"

  "No, I asked Prince Aidan, and I guess he was feeling guilty about Chaser, because he said I could leave."

  "What about your friends?" Red asked.

  "They want to stick with the army. But even though I'll miss them, I'd rather live grand tales with you!"

  Red wasn't sure how well she'd be able to handle their lifestyle, especially when a more experienced warrior in Herbert didn't even tolerate it especially well. But Tonya might have that youthful adaptability, and besides, if it did prove unacceptable for her, it wasn't like Red would keep her against her will. "Would your family be alright with this?"

  Tonya raised her chin proudly. "I'm an adult."

  "Then you're welcome to join us," she said, smiling. While the "thing" she knew Tonya had for her might make for an awkward moment here and there, she doubted that would outweigh the benefits of having another friend around. She looked forward to the adventures they'd share.

  Chapter 9

  Over the next months, they learned of Prince Aidan running into more resistance after the news of his second's misdeeds spread distrust for him through the land. His campaigns began to overly tax the resources of Duke Carrol, who withdrew his support. Cut off from his main source of funding, he could no longer finance his army, and while Leviatha and the Earl of Bluestone remained his allies in name, they didn't offer monetary aid. It appeared that Aidan wouldn't become king anytime soon, which relieved Red a bit. She doubted he would really have been ready for it.

  Now with the aid of Tonya and her spear, she and Herbert continued to hunt werewolves whi
le they searched concurrently for knowledge of how to reverse the lycanthrope curse. But they had no luck with the latter, and for now could only keep killing the beasts as she always had. Tonya was of course scared for her first hunt, but after cornering it in a cave Red slew the lone werewolf handily and put her nerves at ease. Looking over its body, the girl smiled in relief. "That wasn't so bad."

  "No," Red warned, "but it won't always be that easy."

  Red sometimes talked about finding the man whose wife she'd accidentally killed in order to acknowledge her guilt and apologize to him, but never actually got around to doing it. She supposed even she could be a coward in some things, and justified it by telling herself it would just tear open old wounds and likely do more harm than good.

  A routine visit to Evie brought shocking news after Tonya introduced herself. "I'm leaving the country soon," Red's sister said to her. "So it seems like you're going to have to be the one who looks after our dad."

  She gaped. "Leaving the country, what? Why? I thought you were doing great here—making lots of money, a famous champion..."

  Evie grinned. "I am. But I met a man from Tellom who I might want to be with, and he's not moving to this chaotic hellhole. So, I'm going to give living in his land a chance. It's not like I can't fight there too... I hope."

  "A man? I thought you and Boris were together."

  "Boris? That was a temporary thing. We're still friends, and, uh"—she lowered her voice to a whisper—"enjoy the occasional love, but he's not one to settle down with. The new prince I met, he has education and class."

  Red blinked. "Is he a real prince?"

  "No. It was a figure of speech."

  "Sorry... hard to tell for sure." She frowned. "But you don't have education and class."

  "So what? He still likes me. Maybe he can teach it to me, if he wants."

  She slapped her sister's muscled arm. "I doubt you'd be that willing to learn."

  "Maybe it'll grow on me."

  "I guess this means I'll have to try and get back in Dad's good graces."

  Evie shrugged. "You don't need to be that friendly with him. I'm not even. I'd just like it if you could keep in touch with him and make sure he's not doing too badly, that sound too hard?"

  "Hopefully not." She looked into her sister's eyes, heart growing heavy. "Will I ever see you again?"

  "Of course!" Evie said with a smile. "I'll visit from time to time, at least once a year. I just won't be able to come running that fast if Dad needs help, which is why I'm putting you in charge of that."

  "I'll do my best. Wish you the best of luck in your relationship." Though she knew it was mean, she secretly thought about how it would be better for her if it didn't work out, but she wouldn't mention anything like that.

  "And if this blows up in my face like my last foreign fling," Evie said for her, "I'll be right back to relieve you of your duties."

  "Who knows, maybe by then I'll not want to let go of the old man." She doubted that would be the case, though, and wondered how receptive her father would even be towards accepting her support. "By the way, how will I contact you if needed?"

  "Give Boris the message, he'll pass it along to me."

  They spent a few days partying for the last time before Evie would depart, and crazy Evie even convinced a drunken Red to join Tonya in bed one night to "warm her up." The next morning was quite awkward, but Boris urged the girls to perk up as nothing had really happened and they soon lost themselves again in drink.

  "So you do like girls then?" Tonya asked to Red's dismay when they finally left Veid, brains barely working, to seek her hometown once more.

  "I was hideously drunk. You can pretty much write that off as being not-me."

  "But if you really didn't like girls, shouldn't you have resisted me no matter how drunk you were? You weren't unconscious or anything."

  "I hardly remember a thing. I might not have even been able to tell your gender at that point. It's not like I exactly reacted to you. Let's just forget about it and be friends again."

  Tonya pouted, but respected her wishes. Could any person really love somebody of either gender, if they were the right one? Red didn't know, but she did not think Tonya would be the "one" for her.

  "I should have stopped that," Herbert said when Tonya walked away to take a piss.

  Red eyed him bemusedly. "You were passed out drunk. Didn't think such a huge man could go down that quick."

  "Evie and Boris have steel livers."

  "And you have a paper one."

  "Suits my image as a refined and proper knight, I suppose." He slapped his belly, and they laughed.

  The trio eventually reached Wren Ridge, and Red knocked on the door of her father's house. "Who is it?" his gruff voice yelled, making her whole body tense up.

  "It's me," she said, her voice shaky. "Evie's gone, so I just wanted you to know that you can tell me from now on if you need anything."

  He opened the portal to look down on her with contempt. "I know, she told me. And like I told her, I won't be needing any help from you."

  Even though her logical mind thought she had done nothing wrong right now, her father's disapproval made her feel inexplicably guilty. "Dad, please, give me a chance! I'm not the same person anymore, I-"

  "Oh? Is that the case?"

  "I'm not the bloodthirsty hunter who used to kill without thought. I still kill, yes, but I'm also looking for a way to cure the wolves if it's possible. And I'm much more careful to make sure anyone I kill is a wolf now."

  "It's true," Herbert said. "She's not just seeking revenge now."

  Her father's expression remained cold. "Maybe your motives have changed. But don't you think after so long, it might be time to stop obsessing over werewolves and move on? It gave me hope when I heard you'd joined up with Prince Aidan. I was disappointed when you decided to kill his second and desert."

  "He was a rapist. Do you want me to sit by and let rapists pleasure themselves in the name of the 'greater cause?'"

  "Prince Aidan gave you the chance to stay even after you slew his man. Why didn't you?"

  For one thing, she just didn't like killing people, but she left that out in favor of a hopefully more convincing answer. "It didn't seem to me like Aidan would make a good ruler. If it got to the point of a civil war, that amount of bloodshed for the sake of putting him on the throne, wouldn't be worth it."

  "That sounds actually thoughtful of you," her father said after a brief silence. "Maybe you finally are growing up."

  She should have been happy he might be warming up to her, but didn't know what to say in return and felt awkward. "Anyway, I'll be sending letters regularly to check up on you. Tell me if you need anything when you get them, and feel free to write back even if you don't."

  He half nodded, which was really more than she'd dared to hope for, turned and closed the door behind him. "Why don't you knock again?" Tonya asked. "Seems like he's getting to like you more."

  "Yeah, but we shouldn't rush it. I think I should leave him be and give it some time for now." And maybe, if she let things develop slowly, their relationship could continue to improve. "And since I finally made progress in this, let's make some in another goal too! Next stop, the home of that supposed werewolf expert Boris' friend told us about!"

  #

  They headed south to the town the expert was said to live in, which lay past a foul-smelling marsh they slogged miserably through. The stink remained prevalent at the village itself, and Red pondered if the people here just didn't notice, having grown up with it. They must not, she supposed. "Do you know where an old man named Art lives?" she asked a tanned woman she saw skinning a giant snake in front of a hut made of sticks. She should probably be grateful they hadn't attacked by a thing like that on the way here, though they likely had enough steel between them to slice it up.

  The woman regarded her with less unease than Red was used to. Her own skin was rough and weathered, though her body looked relatively young and fit. "Art?" She
pointed. "Second house on the left of the fork over there. He's probably out this time of day, though."

  They could wait. The trio stood before the indicated house, and people did nothing more than glance at them. Red wouldn't think they got many visitors, but maybe they figured anyone who stopped by would be gone soon enough. There didn't seem to be much here outsiders might want. Eventually, she spotted a large-eyed old man with curly white hair ambling their way who she guessed to be Art. "Hello," she said. "I'm-"

  "The Red Rider, right?" He extended a thickly callused hand, and shaking it she felt a bit surprised at her name being known even here. Then again, Boris' friend might have mentioned her when they met before. "I've wondered if we would ever meet."

  He invited them inside, though the four of them barely fit in the almost tent-like hut, and heated some snake soup for them to drink. Though hesitant to taste the gooey liquid which resembled slime, she discovered it was pretty good. "So we hear you're an expert on werewolves," she said after full introductions had been made. "What do you know about them, and particularly, do you think their lycanthropy can be cured?"

  "I'm not that much of an expert, and I don't know if a cure is possible. Your friend might have been overly impressed and exaggerated the extent of my knowledge. All I've learned about werewolves is what people tell me after I recount my own encounter. It's my favorite story, and telling it tends to encourage others to share information about the same subject." At the disappointed expressions of Red and her companions, he added, "But though my true understanding might be limited, I do have an idea of where you can learn more. Are you aware of exactly when werewolves began to appear?"

  "No. I always just assumed they've been around forever."

  "A long time, yes, but certainly not forever. The first documented cases of werewolf encounters started around six hundred years ago, just after the war between the mages of the north and south."

  "And you think they're related?" Herbert asked.

  "There are stories of 'demons' being used by the northern mages against their enemies during the war, but no record of what happened to said demons after. Most I'm sure assumed they were all destroyed, or returned to where they were summoned from. But what if they weren't summoned, but created, and their descendants still walk the earth now?"