Chapter 12: The Pact

I'm fucked.

There's no way I can beat the Hellion in a fair fight. Yeah, fine, if I got behind her I could put a knife in her back and she'd die like anyone else. Or if I had six other guys and we went in all at once, we could surround her and cut her down. But I got no one but me, and I can't get behind her. I could beg for my life, but even if she let me go, there's no way she'll hand over the treasure without a fight. And Rodin'll cut my throat for sure if I come back emptyhanded.

The Hellion knows she got me at her mercy, because she's wearing a confident grin as she looks me over. I ever get the chance, I'm gonna enjoy wiping that smug look off her face.

"Well, well, well," she taunts, stepping in a little closer. I don't back down yet – she's still out of glaive range. "Here we are again. I think this is the part where you run away, isn't it?"

I shake my head.

"Ain't runnin'."

"I can't tell if you finally grew a spine," she jeers, "or if you're just stupid. Every time you face me, your friends die. You must really get off on -"

"Go to hell," I snap, cutting her off. "And you know what else? This time, your friend's dead too. How's that taste?" I point over at Blondie's corpse for emphasis.

I smile with pleasure as she flinches, then looks over at Blondie and realizes her friend ain't moving no more. When she looks back at me, her eyes are filled with hate.

"You did this."

"How'dya figure that?" I snigger. "Me and the others hadn't shown up when we did, them fungals woulda pulled you to pieces. It's thanks to us you're still breathing, even if she ain't. You should thank me."

"If you hadn't attacked us in the first place," she spits back, "they'd all be alive. Her, and everyone else you killed. You're nothing but a bunch of thieves and murderers. I'll kill every one of you bastards for this, and I'll start with you."

"Yeah? Where was that righteous speech when you and Guy was fighting together?" I goad, not flinching.

That shuts her up. She glances at his corpse.

"He was…brave," she eventually admits.

"He was," I nod. "Look, I just lost friends too, woman. Think there's been enough death for one day, don't you?" Well, strictly speaking, I only met Bressac yesterday evening, but I got along well enough with Guy. Anyway, laying it on thick'll help pull on her heartstrings.

She's quiet for a while.

"Fine," she grates after half a minute. "Get out of here. But you're not getting your filthy hands on whatever it was Justine took from the carriage."

I'm confused for a sec, then realize she's talking about Blondie. Guess that was her name. Still: I expected she wouldn't be willing to give up the treasure, but if I don't think of some way to get it off her, I'm good as dead even if it's not her that kills me. I think hard.

"Your friend fought at my side," she continues, "so, for the sake of honour, I'll give you your life. But I won't give you your blood-money."

All of a sudden, an idea pops into my head.

"Be smart," says I. "You still need me."

"And how is that, little man?" she asks scornfully. I grin as I play my trump card.

"How're you planning on gettin' back to town?"

Her eyes go wide, and the sneer of contempt falls from her face. She probably didn't think about that 'till now.

"You got no food," I go on, counting the points off on my fingers for emphasis. "You got no torches. You got no idea where you are. And you're alone. Seems to me you're in need of a friend."

"A friend like you?" she scoffs, unconvinced.

"Desperate times, yeah?" I shrug. "Think about it. We got food and supplies with us was supposed to last three men two days – and one of those three was him," I add, pointing at Guy's body. "Between the two of us, I bet we could stretch it to four or five. And also: the man that giant clubbed down, Bressac. He had a compass on him. I ain't a tracker like he was, but I know enough to lead you back to town. For a price."

"The price, of course, being whatever it was Justine stole."

"You got it."

She looks at me coldly.

"And if I decide to kill you and take the food and compass for myself?" she suggests, her voice going real soft. I don't flinch – just look as confident and carefree as possible.

"Then I put this here torch out in the mud. Good luck findin' his corpse in the dark."

"Perhaps I'd be willing to take that chance," she says, her voice still quiet and dangerous.

"You don't know the Weald like I do," I point out. "I been livin' out here for years, woman, and you came here on a carriage a day ago. Even with a compass, you'd have no idea where the nearest town is. Face it: unless you feel like dying alone out here, you need me."

"And you?" she asks bitterly. "What do you get out of this?"

"The treasure, of course. What else?"

This ain't a lie, but it's not the entire truth either. I don't wanna face the Weald alone if I can help it, and even if the Hellion's an arrogant bitch, she's the deadliest fighter I know, not to mention the only one I got right now. Right now, I need her just as much as she needs me if I'm gonna make it home alive. Not that I'll ever tell her that.

Still, she's bein' stubborn.

"All this," says she, "all this death, for a piece of treasure? You make me sick."

"I don't give a shit what you think," I snarl. "Wanna talk about death? Lotta my friends is corpses cause of you. You hate my guts? Well, I hate yours right back, you fucking dyke. But right now, either we work together, or we die. Simple as that."

She glares daggers at me, but stays quiet – thinkin'. I let her: sometimes the best thing to persuade someone something is to let 'em think on it for a spell. But from the expression on her face, I'm pretty sure I've got her.

"How do you know it's not broken?" she suggests, sounding desperate. Like she's clutching for any reason not to bargain with me. "The giant hit him pretty hard."

"I don't," I admit. "But we'd better hope it ain't, or else neither of us is makin' it home."

She hesitates for a few more seconds, then her shoulders slump in resignation.

"All right," she says. "It's a deal. But you'd better –"

"I want your word, woman," I interrupt. This is a bit of a gamble – she mentioned 'honour' earlier, so I'm hoping she's the kind of person doesn't go back on their word once it's given. "Your word of honour, specifically," I clarify.

"You are without honour," she hisses.

"But you ain't."

She grinds her teeth. "On my honour, and my family's. Lead me to town, and I'll give you what you've asked for. But so help me – try anything, and I'll cut your cock off and feed it to you."

I smile at her.

"Good".