Author's Notes:
Once again, this story is NOT alternate universe. As always, both praise and constructive criticism are appreciated, so post those reviews.
The milieu and characters of this fanfic are property of Sega, except the vllains, who are mine. This story is set a little more than one year after Shining the Holy Ark.
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Not Quite Alone
plot and script - Martin III
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Arthur gripped the hilt of his sword firmly, no tension prickling his sure fingers in their soft embrace with the weapon. He eyed the creature before him with calm intent.
It resembled a hound somewhat, but with a taller and more muscled body, dark green hairless skin, and large pinchers extending from the roots of its jaw. It watched him with slavering mouth. Arthur didn't know what these creatures were called, but they were apparently not uncommon in these parts.
The tableau was held for a few moments. Arthur preferred to wait and slice off the creature's head the instant it lunged forward. Animals in general were more unpredictable when on the defensive than when attacking, and this one would have to come straight at him, head first. Arthur was seeped in a deep and quiet peace; he could already see and feel the moment when he would dispatch the beast. It was as certain as if the deed were already done.
Then the creature broke its lock with Arthur's eyes, uttering a mild whine, and slowly walked away.
Arthur swung around, expecting to see some more menacing monster coming upon him. But there was nothing. Neither his eyes nor his practiced ears picked up anything beyond the hound creature rustling through the bushes, away from him.
"Hmm." He sheathed his sword. "That's never happened before."
The only possible conclusion that he could draw was that he'd managed to convince the beast to back away himself. Which, he reflected as he resumed searching for signs of his quarry, was really quite an astonishing thing. To those creatures, humans were prey. Perhaps he was becoming part beast.
He pushed such musings aside and focused on his task, not that it was a difficult one. Though the paths he was following were mostly well-used, the men he was after had left a trail a blind man could follow. Freshly broken branches, shed scales from the dragon warrior among them, the occasional bit of half-chewed food. There was even a woman's dress, for some unfathomable reason. Perhaps looted in jest, then discarded once they were in a more sober mood? And of course, there were the cart tracks. Faint where they appeared, and absent for significant intervals, but to the trained eye they were the surest sign to follow.
The bandits were being almost arrogant in their carelessness, but Arthur supposed they had little reason to be otherwise. Mercenaries like him almost never came to this remote area, and the local guards weren't trained well enough to follow even such an obvious trail as this. The cart was especially blatant; it was usually second nature for bandits to take only what they could carry rather than leave wheel tracks behind. As he followed them onto lesser used side paths, the path of the cart became clearer and clearer as it cut through the encroaching forest.
Still, he had to keep in mind that cockiness didn't always mean stupidity. As if to drive the point home, his eyes caught sight of a thin sliver cutting the air in front of him.
A trip wire. It ran just below knee height and was very fine, all but invisible to even his trained eyes. Idly he wondered what the material was. He followed the course of the trap to a makeshift crossbow hidden on a branch with a particularly thick clump of leaves. The point of the arrow was coated with a reddish paste, which Arthur immediately recognized as the concentrated pheromones of a poison moth. Nasty. If you didn't take the antidote for that stuff within a few minutes of infection, you were usually a lost cause. He'd seen one victim writhe in pain for over an hour before death.
Arthur dismantled the trap for anyone who might happen to wander down the path, then moved on. The trap meant he was getting close; he should be seeing sentries soon.
Perhaps it was a bit premature, but he began to wonder what he was going to do with the money from this job. The people of Creed village had made him quite a handsome offer for the extermination and recovery: half of the gold coins looted by the bandits. He supposed they were desperate. Also, he suddenly realized, they probably figured the reward would have to be split among several mercenaries. After all, there were close to a dozen of the bandits.
Regardless, it was an awful lot of money. Far more than he would possibly have to spend on room and board between now and his next job, and there was no more need for him to get better equipment. The armor he now wore gave the best combination of protection and freedom of movement of anything he'd seen in the past 15 or so towns. And the sword he wielded was one he hoped to use until the day he died: forged of mithril and honed to a keen edge by the finest blacksmith in Desire village, it was capable of slicing through all but the hardest animal shells.
In his early days, before he'd made any kind of name for himself, he'd spent most of his money on women. Didn't take long for him to discover what a bad idea that was. It was always nice while it lasted, but when it came time for him to move on they inevitably got rather upset, which made him feel like a complete asshole. It was his curse that cheap floozies repulsed him; the only girls he found attractive were ones who wanted more than a one-off fling. At least he'd had the good sense not to sleep with most of them. The two times his resistance had been weak enough to do that, his self-esteem took an even steeper drop than normal on the day of departure.
It was a pity. He rather liked women - or so he figured, considering that he seemed to fall in love with one every three or four months - and was starting to feel that he wouldn't mind having a long-term relationship with one. What he needed, though, was a woman who would travel with him wherever he went, yet who wouldn't bother him while he was on a job. Obviously, no such woman could possibly exist.
He gave himself a sharp pinch; he'd been letting his mind wander. Not a good thing to do right now. But how in the world was he going to spend all that money? Of late he'd taken to giving his surplus earnings to any family in need he stumbled upon, but the dramatic gratitude that they almost unfailingly expressed when he threw the sacks of coins at their feet embarrassed him. Didn't they understand that he just didn't want the lousy money?
A snap caught his ear. He froze.
Had it been to his right? That would be a good guess at the location of the bandits' camp. He took a look around; there was undergrowth everywhere, no path for him to use to quietly sneak up.
He inched towards what he thought the source of the sound was, making as little noise as possible. He paused every few moments, and after a minute or two he was able to hear enough noise to pinpoint the right direction. After sliding in a bit closer, he began to consider his options. In growth this thick, moving in quickly was not one of them. If the sentry had any discipline at all, he'd call out as soon as he spotted something suspicious. The bandit camp was probably set in a clearing up ahead, where they could easily wait in ambush if they decided he was dangerous.
Nothing for it, then. His sword and the more loose-fitting pieces of his armor were discarded to allow him to move more freely and quietly. Crouching down slightly, he moved in a slow but inevitable pace towards the sentry, taking a full minute between each step to avoid arousing his suspicion with the noise. Each time, he listened - and looked, once he got close enough - to see if the sentry had taken notice. Besides, it was important to keep his mind busy with the task.
Still, he allowed a few more stray thoughts concerning the money. There was simply no way he could spend it on himself; when you're never in one place for more than a month at a time, there are few possessions you can keep. He wished there was some way to give away money anonymously. There was the church, of course, but they would be suspicious of how such a large sum was obtained.
Irrelevant ruminations if he died without ever earning it. He was almost upon the man now, close enough that he just might be spotted with a stray glance. How do those Far East Village folk make this sort of thing look so easy?
He sidled up to a tree, and managed to stand up against it without making a noise. With equal silence, he drew forth the dagger that he wore at his hip. The trick now was to keep the tree between the two of them without any sudden movements. He listened to the sound of the sentry's footsteps crackling against the dead leaves and small plants, waiting for them to come within reach.
Luck was on his side. The sentry did not chance to stray anywhere that would require Arthur to move or be seen, nor was he cautious enough to avoid the trees. At the sound of a footstep very close, Arthur whipped around the tree, clamped a hand over the guard's mouth, and used the dagger to slice open his throat in one swift stroke. He waited a minute until he was certain that the body he held was limp, then let it fall to the ground.
One down. Now the fun begins. There were still quite a few numbers against him, but the element of surprise was his. He ran back to retrieve his discarded armor and sword, then sprinted towards where the camp had to be. Leaves and branches snapped across his face, priming his adrenaline.
After a minute or so, he was sure that what he saw ahead of him was the clearing where the bandits made their camp. He could make out the rough forms of sleeping tents, even by the slowly dimming light. The sun was just beginning to set.
A loud holler broke his brief moment of elation.
"Shit." They'd have to be rotating sentries just now, wouldn't they?
It didn't matter much, though. He was right on top of them. As he broke into the clearing, he saw them scattered all over the camp, some with weapons in hand, but most scurrying about to arm themselves. At a rough count, there were at least seven.
Out of the corner of his eye Arthur spotted the cart loaded with their loot, but he didn't waste any thoughts on that. Not three meters from him was a lean, well-built lout with a sword, one of the tougher looking bandits he'd seen in his time. Arthur dispatched him with three swift strokes of his blade. Hoping that the sight of this corpse would demoralize the others, he leapt at one who was just about to grasp hold of a blade and took him down with a flesh wound. He liked to avoid killing when possible.
By now two of them had managed to organize themselves to come at him together. To make things worse, one of them was the dragon warrior, and a rather hefty one at that, with muscles as broad as the blade of the axe he carried.
Arthur gave a calm nod of his head toward them. His armor could easily protect him long enough to take these two down. The remaining bandits were likely the bottom feeders.
"Hold it!"
A crude distraction like that was not one Arthur was liable to fall for, but he noticed that his two opponents were hesitating. They kept their eyes on him, but seemingly only for fear that he would attack if they looked away.
"Maybe what we've got here will convince our lone hero to stop his... suicidal attack. Do you want to see some innocent blood spilled here, stranger?"
Arthur took the risk of glancing up, past his two opponents. The voice had come from a dusty, older-looking bandit. He had a dagger out, and was holding it up to the throat of a woman who was bound hand and foot. The woman wore peculiar, brightly colored robes, and her long blond hair was done in braids...
A chill spilled over Arthur's skin. Melody?
He'd hid his surprise as best as he could, but the elder bandit's mouth went from a curl of uneasiness to a broad smirk. "Ah. So you know her. That will make this much easier." Melody stared at him intensely, with obvious recognition. She seemed to be watching in dreadful fear of the moment a weapon would pierce his flesh.
"She means nothing to me," Arthur said coolly, and raised his sword to attack the dragon warrior.
"That's good, because she means nothing to me, either," the bandit returned, cutting into her throat.
Melody's cry froze him instantly. Momentarily forgetting his immediate foes, he stared at the elder bandit and the line of blood running from Melody's neck.
The bandit smiled, pulling the dagger's edge away a little. Melody released quick but shallow breaths of relief. "I thought so. Now throw down your sword, or I won't hesitate to kill her."
"Don't do it, Arthur!" Melody cried out. "Just kill the stinking -"
Arthur was never to know if Melody would have uttered an obscenity, because her captor interrupted by jerking back on her hair, making her yelp. "Should have used a gag," he muttered. "Well now, stranger. Either we take you both as prisoners, or you both die. Your choice."
His head pounded, and he gripped his sword more tightly for reassurance. Never had to deal with a situation like this before. What am I supposed to do? I can't give up... I never give up. But Melody... "Let her go, and I'll surrender."
"Can't do that. She's a mercenary, and probably after us, too. And you two know each other. Do I look like I'm stupid?"
"Then what will you do with us?"
"You'll both be blindfolded while we take you with us to out next... place of resupply. Once we get there, you can either join our group, seeing as how well you've proven yourselves, or we'll let you go free. Either way, even if you could find your way back to whoever hired you, it'll be too late for you to... accomplish your jobs."
It wasn't a bad deal, actually. It theoretically covered the bandits' tails, with an opportunity to recruit a new member or two. Many mercenaries had joined up with bandit groups. There was a good shot that the offer was in earnest.
Still risky to take it, though. Damn her! How did she get caught like that, anyway? Even on her own, she's a good mercenary, almost as good as me. And with Forte...
That thought made him pause. Maybe he was worrying in the wrong direction; Forte had to still be out there, waiting for the right moment to launch a rescue. If he refused to surrender now, Melody's death would be entirely thanks to his interference. All he had to do was give up, and Forte would simply rescue him along with -
Bullshit! If that was true, Melody wouldn't have yelled at me to attack. Assuming she isn't running solo now, her partner's probably been killed or captured along with her. We're on our own.
"That's long enough," the bandit said. "You surrender in the next ten seconds, or you watch your pretty friend's blood paint the ground. Ten..."
Arthur's sword clanged against the hard ground before the word "nine" was completely out of his throat.
Sheathing their own weapons, his opponents grabbed a length of rope that was lying near one of tents and moved to bind his arms. He'd considered surprising them with magic at this point, but the elder bandit still hadn't removed the dagger from Melody's throat. Instead, Arthur obligingly offered his wrists to them and averted his eyes from Melody, who was gawking at him in disbelief.
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"What were you thinking?" Melody snapped as they led them along. "They're just going to kill both of us now!"
"Possibly," Arthur returned. "But even if they are double-dealing with me, there's a one in three chance I'll still survive. Maybe I'm the one who kept the spirit."
"Those are pretty lousy odds to be hanging on!"
When did she go back to being so cranky? "Look, they would have killed you for sure if I hadn't given up. I gave my word as a mercenary that I'd help you."
"What are you - That was over a year ago! You don't owe me anything now!"
As they came around to the other side of one of the tents, Arthur saw a white-haired man in robes bound to a stake driven into the ground, unconscious. With old memories stirred by Melody's appearance, it took him only a second to recognize Forte. At least he's still alive.
"Instead of questioning my motives, why don't you give me the specifics?"
"Fourteen of 'em, at least before you showed up," Melody said as they led them to another stake roughly half a dozen meters from Forte's. One of them began binding Melody to it, while the other two proceeded to remove Arthur's armor. "Most of them as dumb as a bunch of goblin kids on spiked cider, but Siun, the leader, seems to know what he's doing."
"I heard that," one of the bandits growled.
"If you're so smart, why'd you tie Arthur's hands together before taking his armor off, huh?" She flashed them a smile like a spiteful pixie. "Gonna be hard pulling that chain mail up over his head with his arms in the way!"
"Shut up. What good's it gonna do him, anyway? He's got no weapon."
Her smile sharpened. "He can get another one. Having no brain is forever."
The bandit frowned at her, but said nothing. Arthur remarked, "You're pretty bold with this lot."
Melody shrugged as best as she could. "I have to admit, they're smart enough to at least know that he who laughs last, laughs best. Sure doesn't look like we'll be laughing last."
"If they were going to kill us, wouldn't they have done that already?"
"Yeah, right! Like they'd miss out on the chance to collect a bounty for us in the next town they hit. Don't know about you, but there's gotta be at least 20 people who'd pay to see me die. Ain't it great being a top-rated mercenary?"
"Alright," one of them said as he cast aside the last piece of Arthur's armor that could be removed without untying his hands. "Where can we get a post to tie 'im to?"
"Never mind that." Arthur turned to see the elder bandit - Siun, he presumed - approach them. He had something in his hands. "Just tie him to the other side of the... sharp-tongued vixen's post. The gentleman stranger seems to value her life over his own, so I'd like a... persistent reminder that any trouble that he gives us will immediately cause her life to be snuffed out." He passed the object in his hands to the next bandit.
His underlings seemed uneasy about the idea of putting them together, but they complied, sitting Arthur down with his back against Melody's. As they tied him to the post, a strange feeling came over him. Melody's warmth against his back... it felt good. It told him he wasn't alone.
Once that was done, they unwound the object Siun had given them. Arthur could make out what it was now: a length of tapered metal with blade-like edges projecting from it. In effect, it was a vine of thorns, only three times as sharp and ten times as unyielding. Whichever blacksmith forged that thing should be hanged. Handling it gingerly, the bandits wound it around him and Melody, binding them together.
"Now then, stranger," Siun announced. "A bit of a demonstration of how we of the Noonthieves band work things. I take it you're still wearing chain mail, so if you somehow managed to free yourself of those ropes, it wouldn't hurt you too much to struggle against the bladed binding. Seeing as how your lady friend only has those robes to protect her, I'll bet you could cut her clean in two if you struggle hard enough. That would give you plenty of slack in the bladed binding to wiggle loose, wouldn't it?"
Arthur did not answer.
Siun's men finished their work. As soon as they were done, Melody burst out, "Why did you do this?"
"Can't risk you getting a-"
"Not you, bonehead! Arthur! Why didn't you just kill them like I told you to?" The bandits shrugged and walked away as she continued her rant. "How could you throw your life away for someone who's practically a stranger?"
Arthur had never considered himself very observant of other people, but even he couldn't help but realize what she was really upset about. "This isn't your fault, Melody," he said with calm assurance.
"You bet your sword and your salary it's not my fault! I told you not to do this!" Her voice was becoming strained. "How could you do something so stupid?"
"Melody..." He gave a weary sigh. "...You've now been breathing for several minutes more than you would have if I hadn't surrendered. Be grateful for that. I know I am."
She was silent for a minute. "I didn't want you to die."
"I don't think I'm going to. Besides, my life isn't worth that much. So long as I die free, I've got nothing to be sad about. You just worry about yourself."
"Arthur, look -"
"How'd you and Forte get captured by this lot, anyway?"
She laughed slightly. "Total carelessness. Our job was rescuing a young woman from the Noonthieves. We were close on their trail, and we set up camp. It was my watch... one of them snuck up on me and knocked me out. Whoever it was must have used some sort of magical camoflauge, 'cause my special senses never saw it coming. I think it was the ninja."
That startled him. "A rogue?"
"No, Arthur. The Far East Village is deep into the bandit business now. They also kidnap children and hold them for ransom."
"Why would a rogue ninja get involved with a pack of bandits?"
"Bandits see a lot of action. Isn't that what rogue ninjas want: a chance to practice their skills, and show off?"
"So there's Siun and this ninja to worry about. Any other wild cards?"
"A few of 'em are good fighters, like the dragon warrior. What's it matter?"
Instead of answering, Arthur cast his eyes over the camp warily. "Don't you think it's funny that they didn't gag us? We're free to discuss escape plans."
"It is kind of funny. They kept me and Forte gagged up till now. Maybe - Hey! You have an idea for an escape? So that's why you surrendered!"
"It could be an idea. I don't know if we have the means." He gave her a deliberate nudge with his elbow. She'd understand its meaning: someone was probably listening in. He couldn't sense anyone, but a ninja could make himself very difficult to detect. And there had to be a reason why they weren't gagged; Siun didn't seem the careless sort.
"Want to share it with me?"
"...Forte might want to hear it, too."
"Right. Hey! Forte! Company!" The sorcerer's eyelids slowly lifted, then widened in surprise; Arthur was more in his line of vision than Melody. "Yeah, our friend here was attacking the Noonthieves, but he surrendered when one of 'em held a knife to me."
Forte couldn't say anything with the gag in his mouth, but his eyes went from surprise to scorn.
Arthur met his gaze unflinchingly. "Look, I may have an idea to get us free. Melody, try casting a Hell Blast spell on the ground in front of you."
"Hold on! It's just a teensy bit hard aiming a spell when your hands are tied behind your back."
"Yeah, but you're one of the best. And I promise I won't complain if you hit me by mistake."
"...Okay, then. Here goes..." She took a deep breath, presumably preparing to contact the spirits through whom she wielded magic. A long silence followed. At last she said, "I don't understand. I did it right; I know I did, but... the spirits aren't answering."
"There has to be some sort of silence or dispell magic around here..."
"In the metal binding!" Melody exclaimed with sudden energy. "Of course! I've never understood why, but metal is pretty receptive to magic; it's even possible to forge a spell into it permanently. Usually you need mithril to do that, but... Anyway, I guess we've got to get rid of this thing, huh?"
"Right." She was performing as desired so far, talking naturally about their predicament for the benefit of whoever was listening to them, while allowing him to fill in the actual details of the pseudo-plan. "They have to take it off when they move us. I'll have no problem slipping these ropes on our wrists by then. We'll hit them both at once; I grab a weapon from one of them, and you slam them with a Hell Blast. As soon as you're able to defend yourself, I'll make a break for Forte and cut him loose."
"And from there it'll be like kicking a log downhill."
"Can you handle it?"
"You gotta ask?"
It was a fatally flawed plan, of course. The bandits were sure to knock them unconscious before moving, or else hold blades to their throats through the whole process. They just might be able to pull off a desperate break like that, but the odds were overwhelmingly in favor of at least one of them getting killed in the attempt. Still, Arthur was hopeful that it would at least be enough to convince the rogue ninja, or whoever it was that was listening.
They passed a long while in silence. Arthur could see the band starting a camp fire and setting up a spit to roast their dinner, while the sun slowly descended beneath the horizon. He idly wondered... should they wait for dark, and take them in their sleep? But he immediately scoffed at that idea. If he couldn't take on a pack of bandits with a pair like Melody and Forte at his side, then it was time to hang up his sword. More importantly, they'd still have the sentries to deal with, and making sure none of them ran off with portions of the loot would be difficult indeed in total darkness. Most important of all, there was the young woman Melody mentioned to worry about. Without furthur ado, he set to work on slipping the ropes around his wrists.
Something was bothering him about all this... besides the ninja, that is. How had the Noonthieves known Melody and Forte were on their trail? It was too much to believe that they could have simply stumbled upon the mercenaries' resting place. It sounded strangely like a set-up.
"Melody?" he prodded, as soon as he'd finished freeing his hands.
"Shush."
Frowning, Arthur squirmed to get a halfway decent look at what she was doing. As it happened, her head was leaning against her right shoulder, towards him, so he could actually see her face. Her eyes were closed, her breathing soft and even, but her head was bobbing steadily, as though she were in a trance.
Bewildering as this activity was, he felt a deep gratification and cheer run through his bones at hearing her breathe, seeing her move, feeling her still warm against him... alive. With no task immediately before him, he drank in the memory of everything uttered from her mouth since he'd dropped his sword before Siun - the sarcastic remarks, the playful barbs, the subtle expressions of concern for him, even the bitter commentaries on their situation - and knew that whatever else followed, his sacrifice had been worth it. Her life, like those of many others he had met, was beyond value.
After a few moments, Melody opened her eyes. "I was talking to Forte." When he gave her a blank look, she elaborated, "It's a spell he learned a few weeks before we met you. If you're nearby, he can talk to you just using his mind. We got to using it so much that he can activate it without even saying the incantation. Well, with me, anyhow... he says he can't reach your mind. It must be the strong rapport I have with him, or something." She gave him a look. "He wants you to tell us what the real plan is."
"Quietly," he whispered. "I don't want even the ghost of a chance of them overhearing." She nodded, and he went on, "They've really got us tied up in this metal binding, but it's thin. If we just snap it at one point, we should be able to unwind it. Do you think Forte can use that spell to boost my strength?"
"Without saying the words? Worth a shot. That spell's a bit simpler than Freeze or Bolt."
"Good. Now, you've got a spell that could weaken these, don't you?"
"Forget something? Dispell magic in the near area?"
"What if I got you some slack, so that the metal isn't touching you? Then could it work?"
"Sure, but... how are you going to do that?"
"Basically like Siun suggested. The chain mail's in the way on my chest, but if I dig the blades a bit into my arms, that should do it. So, is Forte going to do the mind link thing with you once we stop talking? Let me know when you've told him the plan."
But Melody didn't seem to have heard his question. "What? You're going to mutilate yourself?" she hissed.
"Why not? You can heal me afterwards, right?"
"But the pain..."
"Look, I hate repeating myself, but..." He sighed. "Just worry about Forte and yourself, okay? I can handle this."
He received no answer. He supposed Forte was conferring with her, so he set to work at the knots around her wrists. Just a few moments after he slipped the last of them away, he heard Melody whisper again, "We're a little unsure of how magic will work on something that has dispell magic in it, but Forte says go for it. Hold on a sec, though. You realize that if this doesn't work... if this thing blocks my spell, or Forte's... We won't be able to heal your arms?"
"To be honest, that hadn't crossed my mind." He took a deep breath. "Ready? As soon as I dig this thing into me, start pushing it away from you. Be real careful not to slice off any of your fingers. Keep an eye on the guys by the fire, too. If they happen to get a good glance at what we're doing, we're in deep trouble."
"Got it. Arthur?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you... for doing all this."
As if this wasn't my mess, too. But he let it go, concentrating instead on squirming around until he could get a good grip on the binding, then jerking it deep into his left arm. He gritted his teeth to keep from alerting the Noonthieves with a cry, but he could not hold back a soft grunt of pain. Squeezing shut eyes that were rapidly watering up from the cruel sting, ignoring the blood that was beginning to bubble over the metal, he reached around and did the same to his right arm, letting out another grunt.
"That... enough?" he gasped.
Instead of answering, Melody gave a whisper of incantation. "Rust!"
Before his eyes, a pair of tiny glowing spirits spread a trickle of magic over the bladed binding, and the metal twisted and rent itself, pulling into malign wrinkles. Nodding with pleasure, he jerked it loose again from his arms, taking care not to jar it into Melody. As though in relief from the self-inflicted punctures, his body surged with vitality and strength, and he knew that Forte had successfully cast his spell.
There was no time to take a breather. He grasped a strand of the bladed binding, being careful not to grip any of the edges, but not hesitating to get the firmest hold possible. Gathering all his amplified strength, he pulled in opposite directions.
Impossibly, the binding held. After several seconds of struggle, his left hand slipped. That he was able to restrain a scream as a sharp edge tore a deep cut across his palm was the second biggest shock he'd yet received that day.
Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his fists, struggling to contain the pain and frustration. My hands... Damn him... Fucking wrecking my fucking hands... Damn it, leave me alone!
He thought he could hear Melody whispering some concerned inquiry to him, but he couldn't bother with that now. Breathing deeply to muster his patience, he again took hold of the metal, being sure to get a more firm grip this time. He waited until his calm and patience was fully restored, then made a couple minor adjustments until his grip was perfect.
He pulled again, and his left hand immediately slipped on the slick blood pooled in his palm. Again there was the sharp edge, this time making a shallow slit across his fingers. He hissed out a string of obscenities through his teeth.
"Arthur?"
"Nothing," he said quickly, reddening. He hoped she hadn't made any of that out. Cursing right in front of a woman. This has been one hell of a day. Raging at himself for forgetting about the blood, he wiped off his dripping hand on his pants. The blood was still flowing, but by taking a slightly awkward grip, he could minimize its contact with the metal. He again took deep breaths to calm himself.
Can't slip this up again. Each time I fail makes the next time harder. Gotta get the right grip, be confident. Melody's spell reduced this thing to a fraying thread, and I've got my strength boosted by Forte's magic... no reason why I shouldn't be able to break this thing. No reason at all.
Giving one last supreme effort, he tugged at the length of cruel metal. There was a moment of unshaking tension in the line, and then at last, a satisfying snap.
"What was that?"
Arthur cursed inwardly; one of the Noonthieves had heard it. He should have anticipated that. Not being stupid, they were already getting up from the fire and hurrying to make sure their prisoners were still secure.
"Shield your face, Melody!" he shouted, and jerked on the strand just below the one he'd broken. The binding whipped around them, nicking cuts into his arms, chest, and face to add further to its insults. He heard Melody yelping, but only increased his efforts to unwind it as the bandits closed in.
As the last of the binding fell away, they were almost upon them. Praying that Melody could hold her own for a moment, he dove for Forte. Fighting against the pain of the wounds in his arm, he tore away the gag. Melody was already knocking them back with a Hell Blast, but the instant his mouth was free, Forte cried "Spark!" Forewarned by the sight of Arthur removing the gag, the Noonthieves scattered away from the lightning lancing through the air.
"Arthur, here!" Melody seized a sword dropped by one of the bandits and tossed it to him. It landed at his feet, and he snatched it up to slice through the rope holding Forte to the stake.
Forte got to his feet, rubbing at his sore wrists as Melody joined them. "Bought us a few moments," she said, panting for breath and smiling from the excitement. "Lemme see your arms, Arthur." Without waiting for approval, she grabbed his left hand with one of hers, his bicep with the other, and began healing the cuts.
"We'd be wise not to get confident yet," Forte said. "They outnumber us better than three to one, and aside from Arthur carrying a sword that he's not used to wielding, none of us are armed."
"You two should make a break and grab your weapons, and that young woman you're looking for," Arthur said as Melody finished healing his cuts. "I can keep them distracted for a minute or -"
A foot slammed into the back of his neck, another into the base of his spine. He lost all sensible thought for an instant, and then he crashed face first into the earth. Instinctively he rolled onto his back, and a dagger cut a tiny slit in the side of his neck.
Enraged at how close he had come to death, Arthur kicked his attacker in the chest, knocking him upward. His timing and position couldn't have been better; Forte was just hurling a Freeze spell at the other bandits. While his attacker was caught in its blast, Arthur grabbed the dagger he'd dropped and buried it in his heart.
Then he at last got a good look at his attacker, and saw that it was a young woman, wearing ninja greaves and a Far East hair style. Youthful and perplexingly innocent eyes stared at him in anxiety, knowing immediately that she was as much as dead. The strangeness of the moment made Arthur hesitate. Then a spin-kick knocked him onto his back. He was on his feet just in time for a glimpse of her fleeing into the woods, and then his attention was engaged by the remaining Noonthieves. Flaming logs from the campfire flew just shy of his head, and his chain mail had to save him from a sword thrust before he could retrieve his own weapon.
"You okay?" Melody yelled to him.
"Fine. You two stay behind me. Watch for the sentries; they could come behind us."
He cut down the first bandit to try to get past him. It was an amateurish strike, unbalanced by the unfamiliar weight of the sword, but fatal nonetheless. The field opened, Forte struck down the bulk of them with a Spark spell.
Only Siun avoided the brunt of the spell. Knocked onto his knees, he began scampering away. Melody leapt after him.
"Melody!" Forte shouted. "This isn't the time for -"
Arthur slapped a hand on his shoulder. "Bigger problem." He turned him around to the four Noonthieves coming at them. "I can handle the dragon warrior, but..."
"Understood."
----------------------
The Kunoichi tried the medicinal herb which she kept in her belt, but after it drowned in the blood pumping from her heart, she finally accepted that she was beyond help. It would take the best of healers to undo the damage done.
She felt too weak to get back onto her feet, so she crawled on hands and knees until she reached a good tree to die against. It was a struggle to prop herself into a comfortable position, but she knew that once that was done, she'd never have to do anything again.
Her head drooped back against the trunk. "Akane, dear friend," she murmured with a smile. "I wish you hadn't told me about your terrible fight with Panzer, now."
It had filled her with such rage, to hear that of the three people who could be holding the gift of the Spirit, two were wasting their potential by working as mercenaries. She'd spoken of her outrage to the Lord, but of course, he resolved to do nothing. They could not risk interfering with destiny, he'd said.
That wasn't enough for me. If no one else cares who the spirit was given to, I do. I felt ready for the wide world, ready to hunt down the two renegade Innovators. Their lifestyle made it impossible for her to find them, however. Much as she hated joining with bandits, the Noonthieves were the best hope she had of them finding her. The second of her targets stumbling upon them so soon after she found the first was a stroke of purest luck. She'd felt it a sure sign that Zod approved of her quest.
But then, when Siun granted her the favor of leaving them ungagged, they'd said nothing. Nothing to suggest which of the three was the Innovator.
Of course they didn't. Neither of those filthy mercenaries could be the Innovator. I've been such a fool not to realize... only Rodi could have inherited the Spirit's gift. "Lord, forgive me," she said. "You were right. I should have trusted in destiny to make the right choice. This is... my punishment..."
She let her eyes close, and prayed her spirit would be forgiven. In spite of it all, though, her sadness was drowned out by feelings of gladness and peace. She was relieved, incomparably relieved, to be wrong. If anyone could banish darkness with the gift of the Spirit, Rodi could.
----------------------
Melody was still fighting like a tiger with Siun, grappling with both of his hands to grab the dagger he'd drawn. Arthur wanted to lend a hand, but the deep wound in his side was beginning to make him weak, so he focused on healing himself and left the rest to Forte.
The point of the dagger hovered no more than a breath above her neck, but before Siun could force in the fatal stroke, Melody managed to free one of her legs and drive her knee into his groin. The dagger retreated more than a foot, but she couldn't manage to wrest it from his grasp. Siun was struggling to regain the advantage when a heavy boot fell on his head, rendering him insensible.
"We're not playing a game here, Melody," Forte said, tossing the boot aside.
"Nope," she agreed, getting to her feet. "Games are nowhere near as exciting." Spotting Arthur's wound, her breath caught. "What happened to you?"
He shrugged slightly. "I attacked four men at once with just Forte backing me up. Was bound to happen."
"The sentries...? Gosh, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."
"It's nothing." He took a breath. "Are the bandits all accounted for?"
"Yup. 'Cept the ninja. Did you -"
"It wasn't a ninja. It was a kunoichi."
"Well, excuse me! I'm supposed to remember all their fancy words? Why couldn't they just say 'female ninja' and be done with it?" He didn't answer. "So what happened to her?"
"She's done." He quietly finished healing the last of his wound.
----------------------
It took them a few minutes to collect their confiscated equipment, tie up the few Noonthieves who still breathed, and uncover the lady Melody and Forte were after. They found her tied up in the bottom of the cart. Forte volunteered to head back to Creed village with her while Arthur and Melody looked after the camp; they'd need the villagers to carry back the stolen loot.
Melody sat atop the cart while they waited, watching the flickering campfire. After a minute or so she announced, "You know, I really am a dope."
"I always thought you were kind of smart," he returned.
"Nope. Dumb, dumb, dumb." She tossed her head back and looked into the night sky, idly swinging her feet back and forth. "I don't know what I was thinking. You couldn't have planned out an escape for us before you surrendered. You didn't have any idea how they were restraining us, or if Forte was there or not. You really were laying your life on the line just for... for my sake." He was silent. Her gaze turned back towards him. "I think you should tell me why you did it now."
He sighed, continuing to watch her only with his peripheral vision. "Because I thought you were worth saving."
"It's that simple for you?"
"Yeah. It's that simple."
She bit her lip a moment. "You know, I was going to take the king up on his offer, till I heard you and Rodi weren't. The things we went through together made me feel like I was meant to do... I don't know... something better than being a mercenary. Being an officer in the army seemed much more meaningful."
Damn. This is getting too personal. Just don't say anything, don't ask that question you're thinking, don't ask- "Why didn't you do it, then?"
She shook herself briefly, and looked away. "I... I didn't want to be alone in it. You and Rodi were leaving, and Forte didn't really understand the things I was feeling, not the way you and Rodi could..." She shrugged. "Anyway, destiny or whatever brought us back together, so you can team with Forte and me now, right?"
He bent his head down. "I work alone." Nicely said, asshole.
"But... you just said..." She trailed off.
"I didn't help you for my sake. I did it because I think the world's a little brighter with you in it. Doesn't mean I want you around. I just like knowing you're out there, somewhere." That's it. Just shove her away, after all the times she's been nice to you.
"...Okay. If you're really sure that's how you want it." She slid off the cart, landing beside him. "You're a good guy, you know that?"
"Sure. So, did Forte volunteer to make the trip so that we could talk?"
"Probably. He's considerate like that every now and then." There was a moment of silence. "Look, is it because I was saying those things to you earlier? I'm not usually such a jerk, honest."
"You weren't being a jerk. It has nothing to do with you, period. I work alone," he repeated.
A groan brought their conversation to an end. Arthur turned to see Siun was stirring. Taking in the ropes binding him and the bodies of his subordinates, the bandit muttered a curse. "A dozen of us, cut down by three mercenaries. I knew it; I'm getting old. This is the worst damn timing I've ever seen. Just a couple more... brisk collections of valuables, and I'd have been ready to retire."
Melody gave a playful tug on his hair, making him curse a bit more loudly. "Golly! After what you were planning on doing to us, that makes me feel so sorry for you!"
"Heh." Siun squeezed a few tears out of his eyes. "You've got a point there, young lady. Still, this can end happily for all of us. We can make off with a fair share of the loot before your friend comes back, though we'll have to leave the cart. If you think this pile is something, you should see the stash I have hidden away. I'll show you where it is, and we can split it three ways."
Melody grinned. "You're funny. Like you wouldn't expect us to kill you once you showed us your stash and then split it two ways. We're not giving you a chance to escape, Siun. Get used to it. And hey," she said, reaching over to pat his shoulder. "...don't take it so hard that you lost. There's no way you could have known it, but you were up against the best."
----------------------
Early the next morning, Arthur knocked on the door to the room shared by Melody, Forte, and the girl they'd rescued. Once they let him in, he set down the two hefty bags of gold coins onto the dresser.
"I just wanted to give you two your shares of the reward. Then I'll be on my way."
"You're kidding, right?" Melody said. "You saved our butts! We should be splitting our reward with you, not the other way around."
"You fought on my side," Arthur answered. "It's not for me to say if I could have done it without you or not. We each get an equal share; it's the only fair way to do it."
"Not so fast," Forte interrupted. He stepped up to Arthur and stared him down. "Melody is right; we owe you our lives. I don't like being in your debt."
"I don't hold debts against my friends."
Ignoring that, Forte continued, "We'll split the reward, but two ways, not three. You take half, and Melody and I take the other half."
"Forte, stop it! Arthur just saved us both, and you're arguing with him about money? That's -"
"There's no argument," Arthur said quickly. "If Forte wants me to take half, then I'll recount the money."
"No need for that," Forte said, opening one of the sacks and lining up stacks of coins. "We'll just give you one forth of each of ours. That'll make it even."
"Fine." He folded his arms and waited impassively.
"Good golly, you two," Melody sighed, but with an amused smile on her face. "Why is it that I always team with cold-blooded mercenaries?"
"Maybe you like having your flamboyant personality stand out more by contrast?" Forte suggested.
"Ouch! Ya skewered me there!" she said with a half-wince, half-grin.
Arthur gathered the stacks of coins Forte pushed towards him. "I'm out of here."
He returned to his room and gathered up his things. That done, he hoisted up his pack and headed downstairs, then out the door.
As he passed among the shops and dwellings of Creed Village, he finally took note of the embarrassing tears his shirt had taken from the metal binding and the subsequent fight. Well, there's one thing I'll have to spend my pay on: new clothes. Still not enough to get rid of it all, even after splitting it with Melody and Forte.
He began pondering which route would be better to take to his next destination, so by the time he looked up to see Melody leaning against the door frame of a small house, he was practically on top of her.
She smiled at his look of surprise. "I wanted to say goodbye."
"We already did that."
"You call that a good-bye? That's pretty rude. Or were you hoping I'd come after you like this and tell you how sad I am to see you go?"
He sighed. "I just... I wanted to be gone before you got used to my being around."
"Ha! I knew it! You have some kind-hearted motive for everything you do!" He averted his face in discomfiture, and she continued in a milder tone, "Anyway, I thought we should have a meeting place for whenever one of us needs help. It'd be pretty silly if you were in over your head and Forte and I didn't even know about it, wouldn't it? But we don't even need to actually meet there. We could just leave a message, and the next time one of us stops there, we'll get it." She gave a toss of her head. "So, why not the inn in Enrich? Our old favorite meeting spot. Besides, I know you had a thing for the innkeeper there." She grinned.
Blushing, Arthur said, "I can't go back to Enrich. Sorry. Pick somewhere else."
He expected her to respond with a flurry of questioning, as she usually did when an enigma confronted her. Instead, after a decent pause she just said, "How about Tinder? Think you might come back there some day?"
"Probably. That'll be our meeting place, then. Anything else you wanted?"
"Just... to say goodbye, pretty much..."
He nodded, and moved to go. "Take care of yourself."
"Hey." She strode forward and caught him in an easy embrace, resting her chin on his shoulder. "You too, huh? I worry about you."
The contact was casual enough; it didn't bother Arthur. But her words were so serious, and though she hid it from her voice, he could sense her agitation. Instinctively he stiffened and said in a cold voice, "I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," she said, stepping away from him. "You look... sad."
"That's just how I always look."
He again turned to go, but she called, "Hey, Arthur. If you ever change your mind about joining me and Forte, if it's a month from now, two months, six years, or in the next five minutes... it's nothing to be ashamed of. We'll just be glad to have you."
He gradually smiled back. "Thanks. I... It was good seeing you and Forte."
----------------------
As he headed down the road, Arthur ran the whole episode over and over again in his mind. Zod, why did I have to leave them like that? I like Melody, and Forte isn't too bad either, once you get to know him. I'd love to be with them again.
At the same time, though, I can't stand to give up my life of free wandering and solitude. I know I'm an asshole for turning the cold shoulder on them like that, as if all the time we spent together and all the friendship they showed meant nothing to me at all. But I can't chain myself to them. I have to be my own man and make my own way through life. It's not an easy way to live, but... it's the only way worth living.
Even if it means hurting anyone foolish enough to get close to you. He shook his head at that thought, and turned his eyes to the distant mountains. I'm getting myself too depressed by thinking of myself and my faults. That's not what my... my friends would want me to do. Better to think of the good things they've done.
He hoisted his pack a bit higher on his shoulder. Really, the road I've chosen for myself isn't all that hard. I may be on my own, but knowing at least two people are out there who care about me... I'm never quite alone.
END