Her Dreadful State of Affairs

[Ladies' Man]

((Closed to Dipwood.))

It was a rare thing indeed to find Gabriel Talisman lying by himself, but it was even rarer to see the man on his back and looking perfectly content with his lack of company. The sun was similarly lonesome, a solitary golden orb in a sea of blue emptiness that the dark-clothed man could catch between his thumb and forefinger. He snickered up at the sky, squinting as he peered through the gap in his fingers at the blazing star overhead. His arm was sticking straight up from the shoulder, but the rest of him was flat on the ground, resting on a bed of crushed grass whose identical companions fanned out around him in a far-reaching field of golden summer growth.

Gabriel let his arm drop to his side with a contented sigh, wishing he had the energy to reach down and take off his boots to enjoy the full benefits of a lazy afternoon. He could hear the whisper of wind on grass and the occasional chirp of a cricket, but other than that the air was silent, just the way he wanted it.

It had been a long time since Gabriel had been far enough away from people to find an opportunity to enjoy a good bout of silence. He hadn’t yet missed the constant bustle and fuss of farming life that he’d grown up around in the weeks that had passed since he’d left his family’s land, and though his eventual destination was probably far louder than the small fief that he’d called home for the past twenty-five years, he was comforted by the thought that noise in the city would almost certainly not be originating from angry workers, nattering housewives, or unsettled cattle. Change was a good thing.

“Knife’s Edge,” he murmured aloud, smiling slightly as he moved to rest the ankle of his right leg against the knee of his other. He’d been there before, of course, but those visits had always been on business with his father, and he’d spent them being rushed from warehouse to warehouse and sitting for interminably boring meetings with all of the family associates as they discussed taxes and exporting and all manner of tedious affairs. This time he was going alone, and though he only had his purse full of money to keep him company, he was fairly certain that his present companion could do wonders to provide him with more.

His silver eyes drifted guiltily from the sky to his black leather backpack, which sat a few feet away from his head, its mint condition an accusing reprimand for his lack of motion. He frowned and looked away. It had been months since he’d left home and weeks since the last time he’d recovered one of the Girls, and though he’d promised his mother in a fit of dramatic passion to chase the thieves to the end of the world if necessary, he was only a few days’ walk from his family’s land, one or two fiefs over from the familiar acres on which he’d grown up. He’d been wandering around in search of clues, trying with an amateurish lack of skill to chase down the thieves who’d ruined his perfectly comfortable life, but he’d found nothing. He wasn’t convinced that he’d have any more luck in Knife’s Edge than he had out in the countryside, but having a clear destination and a potential goal towards which he could work did something to help alleviate his guilt. The longer he sat around, the longer it would be before he retrieved his birthrights and avenged his father. Gabriel’s good mood faded. Even dead the old man had an uncanny skill for putting a damper on his son’s happiness.

The longer he had to wander around after those daggers, the longer it would be before he could return to the comfortable standard of living for which he’d been born and bred. He sighed again and laced his fingers together on his stomach. Summer wouldn’t last forever, and traveling during an infamous Salvaric winter wasn’t even a plausible option. He needed to get back on the road. Soon.

His most immediate destination was a small community a few miles down the road, more of a collection of buildings than an actual town. It was known rather creatively as Tradepost, and it was a favorite place for lords to haggle and drink and with merchants who wanted the land’s rich produce and who would pit the lords against each other to see who would let them get away with paying the least for their fief’s crops. It was a village separate from the surrounding fiefs, practically a state unto itself, but it was so small that none of the bordering fiefs bothered to worry about it.

Ten more minutes and then I’m outta here, he promised himself.

A good half-hour later, Gabriel was shaken out of a half-asleep reverie by the noisy bellowing of an ox, and he sat up crossly to glare at the wagon that rumbled down the road past him. Maybe it was a sign. With a dreary sigh the young man pushed himself to his feet and slung his backpack over his shoulder, bitterly gazing down at the indent left by his body in the grass.

“No rest for the wicked,” he muttered. Or for those pursuing them.

[Ghost Hunter]

It was a blessing to be back in sight of solid land. Two weeks ago, with no hope of land in sight, and a hurricane at their back, Georgia-Ann had never thought to see dry sandy earth again. But they'd managed to stay upright and above the waves, cutting through the monstrous swells like a well-sharpened knife, and when the storm was over the man in the crow's nest shouted happily. In the darkness of the hurricane, they'd reached the outlying waters of Salvar. Fishing boats surrounded them, and further into the harbor a myriad of trading vessels awaited them. The medium heaved a sigh of relief that was echoed even by the most hardened sailor, brushing her saltwater-stiffened hair out of her eyes.


The captain hustled Georgia back into her tiny cabin as they pulled into the docks, wanting to be sure she didn't get in the way of his crew as they shored up the lines and set out the gangplank. It would have cost her the last of her money to get here, but fortunately the rich uncle of a Salvarian noble had sent her out to this vast land of ice and snow to dispel the ghost of some poor soul from a tiny church in some nameless village. The villagers refused to work for their feudal lord while the distressed soul of one of their own remained between worlds.

The little redhead wondered if it always took this long to prepare a ship for unloading, or if she was just impatient. As the captain called for all passengers to disembark though, she seemed to have no reason to ask that question anymore. With a bright smile, and her pack slung haphazardly over her shoulder, Georgia stomped down the board that would take her onto the docks and into the city.

Of course she'd have to take a cart of some sort to the little fiefdom that required her service. Either that or walk. A brief glance around and a deep breath of the clean air (albeit a bit fishy) revealed a steadily rolling road that pointed toward her destination and not a cloud in the flawless blue sky. In either direction stretched merrily waving fields of grain, the terrain marred only by the occasional tree. Georgia decided that since the weathered signpost said the village was only 3 leagues away, that she could easily make it by nightfall if she walked.

Mama's voice warned her of highwaymen somewhere in the back of her mind, but Georgia just laughed brightly as she shrugged her bag higher up on her shoulder and set off for her destination. She could get to like this whole traveling thing.

[Rayse Valentino]

A rumble echoed from afar, shaking the tables, chairs, and various liquors on the shelves for a moment in the tavern. The bartender turned around and told the chef that in all his years here he'd never felt an earthquake before, but lately they seem pretty common. The chef shrugged and continued polishing mugs. It was the third one, with the first couple happening in the early morning and early on last night. Rayse Valentino, also known as The Contractor in the Salvarian Black Market, drank some ale from a tall mug, taking his time and enjoying his drink contently. Of course, nobody way out here would know anything about that.

"Slow day, isn't it?" asked Rayse, apparently the only one at the bar drinking in the middle of the day.

"Yeah. Being the only food place in town, we'd usually have people even at this time of day," replied the bartender.

The only ones who were coming into the town now were already in the area, and none of them looked like soldiers so that meant outside influence on the town was next to nothing. There may have been some stragglers here and there, but Rayse doubted they would pose any sort of threat. He left some coins on the table and walked out, waving to the bartender with the back of his hand from behind.

"Nice feller, wasn't he?" asked the bartender, but the chef only shrugged.

Tradepost was a town between two distant, yet semi-important places. At first it was only that, a trade post, but eventually some traders settled the area. Its notable aspect was that it was its own territory, with no apparent owner under the fief system. It's perfectly avoidable with a simple detour, but lords or other officials traveling long distances liked to stop by. One could only assume a lot of money changed hands here. Aside from the personal guards the lot carried wit them, it was a defenseless location.

The plan was simple: Go to the forks in the roads and destroy the one leading to the town. Have a few men wearing white masks that cover the nose and mouth sit in front of the destroyed road, directing oncoming traffic towards the detour. If the traveler was insistent, warn them of the highly-contagious airborne plague the townsfolk are suffering from, pointing to their white masks. If the traveler was STILL going to go through, take them out. He had two men wearing armor and swords at each location, with a few lying in wait on the outskirts of the village, slowly heading towards it. Rayse only had about 20 mercenaries, but it was enough to keep the village in check. He walked up to the mayor's house and knocked on the door.

"Ah, welcome, welcome!" said a voice from inside, gradually increasing in volume.

The door opened and a vibrant old man wearing overalls and slippers held the door open, "I'm always up for greeting a guest to my town. Come in, come in!"

Rayse entered, checking out his surroundings. It was a mansion handed down from mayor to mayor in this village, apparently one of the first buildings. Its age was apparent, as the wooden walls were chipping away, the furniture had many woven straps on them, and the curtains were ragged. You'd think he would be able to afford all this.

"Come into my office and sit down! Elra, come bring our guest a nice cup of tea!" he said, entering a room and motioning Rayse to come inside.

He seated himself behind a large desk, in what looked to be the only nice chair in the house. A chair was in front of the desk, but Rayse didn't sit. That wasn't his chair.

"2000," declared Rayse.

"I beg your pardon?" asked the mayor, putting his right hand to his ear as if he didn't quite hear Rayse correctly.

"I know a few guys outside and they're really hard to deal with. I mean, just awful characters," Rayse snickered, "They really wanted to burn the whole place down, can you believe that? Insufferable, right? So I decided I'd do you and your town a favor and give them an alternative, and that's it; 2000. Good deal, right?"

"I... !" the mayor stood up in shock, grabbing his chest.

The mayor's wife Elra came and and put two cups of tea on the table, only looking up afterwards to see the distraught mayor, "Is something wrong, dear?"

The mayor was silent, unable to form words and nearly hyperventilating.

"I just told your husband I would renovate the place. Maybe add a dash of fire red paint," grinned Rayse.

"Oh, isn't that just wonderful?" Elra beamed, "I better go clean up, wouldn't want the painters to think this is some sort of pig sty."

Elra left, and Rayse walked towards the desk, with the mayor slowly inching away from his seat, droplets of sweat dampening his eyebrows.

"2 hours. That's all the time I can give you. Sorry, those guys are so impatient."

The mayor ran out, and Rayse sat in the nice chair, putting his elbows on the arm rests and touching just the tips of his fingers together. The men he put outside the village should be coming into it by now, fully clad in armor themselves, so the mayor should see them and know this is a serious threat. Not that a bunch of villagers would be able to put up any sort of resistance or anything. Small wisps of white rose from the two untouched tea cups. Rayse opened some of the drawers in the desk and flipped through some of the papers. One document in particular caught his eye.

[Ladies' Man]

It had been bad enough leaving his perfect nap spot, but things just went downhill from there. He reached the familiar fork in the road that promised the town’s proximity with no problem, but standing rigidly in the middle of the road he wanted to travel down was a couple of men with strange little white masks over their faces.

“Ho there, strangers,” he called pleasantly as he approached. “Y’all must be from Corone or something; only the ugly women have to wear masks around here.”

“They’re for protection, sir, and I’ll have to ask you to kindly turn back around and head home. You can’t pass this way.”

Gabriel had stopped a short ways away from the man, who stood a few feet ahead of the other man in identical facial covering. Both had big, sharp-looking weapons.

“Excuse me?” Gabriel tilted his head and motioned towards his ear. “I don’t think I heard you correctly. Did you just tell me that I can’t take this road?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“Under what authority are you forbidding me from traveling in my own home state?” The noble blood within him roared at the insult.

“We’re trying to save lives here, sir,” the guard said patiently, his breath making the white mask billow out and back against his face. “There’s a highly contagious airborne plague that’s running rampant in Tradepost. We’re here to make sure no one spreads it.”

“An airborne plague?”

“That’s right.”

“Hmm.” His noble goal ever in mind, Gabriel crossed his arms and weighed his options quite seriously for a few ponderous seconds. On the one hand, he had guaranteed immunity against any sexually-transmitted disease, a gift for which he had never once stopped being grateful. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure that a disease that could be passed on by physical contact could also be passed on through the air. If it could, that meant that his gift could protect him even from this reputedly deadly disease. Then again, if it didn’t . . .

“There’s no use in being fatalistic, my good man. Everybody has to die sometime, right? I think I’ll take my chances with Tradepost, if that’s all right with you.” He flashed a winning smile and took a step towards the man. Thinking it all the way through required more energy than he was willing to expend, and most rumors of disease were more exaggeration than fact. Plagues killed off peasants; noble blood was made up of stronger stuff. There was a flash of metal and then something cold was resting against his neck, just below his chin. Gabriel glanced down the long blade of a sword and did his best not to swallow.

“No, sir, you won’t. This is my last warning. Go home, or face the consequences of your own stupidity.” There was no missing the warning in the man’s gruff voice and unyielding glare. He was a few inches taller than Gabriel and handled his sword with the ease of someone long accustomed to being obeyed.

Gabriel kept his voice level. “I . . . think I’ll just try again another day.”

He could feel the man’s eyes boring into his shoulders as he turned around and trooped back down the road, keeping his back straight and affecting as unbothered an air as he could. Inside, however, he was seething. Who dared to cut off the road as if it belonged to them? The roads had always been equally-shared property; tariffs and roadblocks weren’t allowed! If his father were still alive, the old codger would have blown a vessel just from hearing about the audacity of those swindlers. What kind of self-respecting noble would take such rudeness from mere strong-arms?

He retraced his steps for about a mile, until he was far enough away from the fork in the road that he couldn’t even see it across the flat ground of the fields. They could cut off the roads, but there was no way a group of pansy-faced thugs was going to keep him from where he wanted to go. Glancing up with shaded brow to mark the sun’s location, Gabriel had turned off the road and trekked across the fields, skirting wide of the road and ducking against the ground at any sign of life, most of which turned out to be inquisitive cows or startled fowl.

As a result of the necessary absurdity, Gabriel’s mood was downright unforgiving by the time he had come close enough to Tradepost to see the decrepit buildings that comprised its poverty-stricken façade. His clothes were dirty and his boots were wet and he was pretty sure that there was a live insect burrowing around in his trousers. He’d practically snuck into town by ducking through a cornfield and jumping a few fences, and every inch of exposed skin was itching mightily in protest of the harsh treatment.

It had taken more than twice as long to get there, but it was still with satisfaction that Gabriel made his way down an unpopulated street. It was true that though the route through Tradepost was faster than the other, he could have taken the detour and still have made it to Knife’s Edge in good time - probably in better time considering how long it’d taken him just to get into Tradepost - but it was really the principle of the matter that made his presence in the tiny village so satisfying. As a wise poet had once said, “Destinations are great, but getting there is half the fun.” And the Tradepost dust on his boots was evidence that nobody told Gabriel Talisman what to do.

Gabriel paused mid-step, stopping in the middle of the unpaved road as his eye caught a glimpse of something that stole his attention more completely than any approaching axe-brandishing berserker could ever have. It was a flash of liquid gold, a phoenix taking flight in the form of tossed hair, the sudden appearance of a slender neck topped by a moon-shaped face that gazed out—not at him—towards perhaps some distant beauty that only one as equally beautiful could behold. She was in a yard behind a shoulder-high fence, wearing a straw hat that must have had the sun weeping at its inability to touch her, and as she frowned down the road at some object that he couldn’t bear to turn away from her to see, Gabriel felt his heart clench in agony at the thought that she didn’t even know of his existence.

Setting off across the street with the determined step of a man on a mission, Gabriel was intent on changing that.

[Rayse Valentino]

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"What a sad, sorry lot."

Rayse looked into the tiny 3 bedroom room. It looked more like a college dormitory than an inn. Several other rooms were rented out in the same manner. He was greeted by a rather foul odor as he entered, accompanied by bags of clothing and trash at his shoes. The three residents were sitting on the beds woefully, with only one of them looking up at Rayse. They were wearing cloth head coverings, vests, and various wraps, a common prefitting before putting on heavy armor.

"It's not as if we haven't been tryin, ya know?" replied the one looking at Rayse, "It's just... things are slow right now. Mercenary work doesn't go as far as it used to for our little group."

Rayse paced about the room, his presence making the others uneasy, "I hear that... but I'm a man of promises. You boys promised me you'd pay, and my patience is running thin." In one motion, he pulled a carton of cigarettes and a lighter from his right pocket with his right hand and up to his mouth. One cigarette slid perfectly from the carton and the cap on the lighter came off. The click of the lighter echoed throughout the room, and the cigarette was lit. With the same motion, both items were back in his pocket. "Hey, it's alright. I'm a reasonable man, I can compromise. After all, if you can't pay me with money, I know of other ways to get what is rightfully mine."

Rayse inhaled deeply on the cigarette, and exhaled various shapes into the room. The smoke trails listlessly floated around. One of the tenants, decided he could take this pressure no longer, ran at Rayse from behind, brandishing a knife he had concealed under a pillow. He held onto it with his right hand and thrust forward, toward the middle of Rayse's back. Rayse let his arms fall backwards, palms facing forward, as if he was submissive and swung his left arm back, pivoting his body left and making the connection between his left arm and the attacker's knife hand. Rayse brought the rest of his body around, starting with his right leg, now facing the assailant, wrapping his left hand around the man's right bicep and his right hand around his forearm, his right elbow making contact with the man's neck. Taking control of the knife arm, Rayse pushed down on his elbow while pulling on the man's knife arm, and the next sound heard was the man crashing down into the ground as Rayse suddenly pushed down on his right elbow, his strength causing the man to choke. To the spectators, the last action was so fierce and sudden it was like a blur. Rayse, with knees bent, still held the man's knife arm, which was now loosed and the knife fell harmlessly to the floor.

Rayse let go of the man's arm and reached for his right ankle, where his own knife was kept, and pulled it out of its thin sheath. With one look at Rayse's knife before it was pressed against his sore throat, the man knew he was in trouble. It was a Kapteyn, a military knife used by professional Salvarian knife instructors. The dark brown handle scales were made of Liviol wood from trees right here in Salvar, and the properties of it were hardness and the ease of applying a firm grip. Perhaps there was something else, but Rayse, being so magically uninclined, was unaware of them. The blade was made of stainless steel, and the top of the razor sharp blade had a half-length swage, for reduced cross sectional profile of the spine and therefore, excellent penetration. Knife talk aside, Rayse's very instincts dictated his actions, and if it wasn't for his free will, the man would be dead by now.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't seperate your head from your body," Rayse demanded, a grin sprawled about his face.

"Wait!" the one previously talking to Rayse spoke up, "I... I have an idea!"

"You have 30 seconds," declared Rayse, pressing the knife against the man's neck while he squirmed underneath.

"I, I heard there's this here town called Tradepost, see, and, well, it's between these fiefs but isn't actually part of any fief, so it's out of them there juris... juris-somethin'."

"Your point?"

"Well, that means it's undefended and pays no local taxes, so it must be rolling in dough. We could, we could..."

"Rob it?"

"Y, yeah! Now please, I said we'd get the money, will you let my friend go? He's really sorry."

Rayse got up, still staring at the man on the ground, "Are you?"

"Forgive m, me!" he stammered out, "I was, s-scared, sir!"

"No problem. It happens."

Rayse helped the man up and he seemed to calm down. He was about to thank The Contractor for sparing him but Rayse suddenly planted a fist into the side of his face, sending him flying towards a wall, knocked out instantly. Rayse's cigarette was still in his mouth the whole time, and he inhaled from it again, exhaling more gentle shapes into the room, as if signaling he was out of his instinctual aggression now.

"You know, you may be on to something," he said to the shocked, talkative tenant, "I think I have a better idea, though."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

[Ghost Hunter]

It wasn't five minutes after she'd gotten into the quaint little town and tossed her things onto a bed in the tiny room she'd rented at the local inn, that a low rumble had shaken the floorboards. Georgia had glanced out the window and not seen anything unusual, but now, as she sat downstairs at a grimy and cracked table over a cup of cider, she was starting to wonder.

The innkeeper looked worried for some reason, and his wife kept muttering about it being slow. Georgia-Ann didn't know why a sleepy little village like this one would be busy, except for its being situated on a trade road. Leaving her cup on the table, which garnered a frown from the little tow-headed girl that was keeping everything tidy, the medium wandered to the window and then stepped outside for a look around.


The same worried expression that had marred the kindly face of the innkeeper seemed to be stamped onto the rest of the townspeople as well. It was a gorgeous evening, the crispness of autumn only touching the golden air with a gentle bite when the breeze blew. The air smelled of apples, and the sun set to the west and left the dust shimmering in its wake. So why were people scuttling around as though the world was coming to an end?

And why in the hell was some boy sneaking into town? Wouldn't it be easier just to come in by the main road like she had? Georgia stepped a little further out into the square, ignoring the peasants who scurried past her. The young man, once past the outskirts of the farmland that surrounded the village, seemed perfectly at ease - he obviously wasn't a fugitive or outlaw here. So why would he be sneaking in?

The poor candle-maker sighed and shook her head, turning with a shrug to head back into the inn. Dinner should be on the table any minute, and a good night's sleep in a bed that didn't rock was just what she needed. If only she'd just stayed the night down at Knife's Edge. Might have cost a bit more, but she'd at least have been expecting all the intrigues in a big city like that.

[Ladies' Man]

Gabriel slowed his approach to a saunter as he drew nearer, savoring the way every step brought the woman’s features into clearer view. He promised himself that as soon as he got her to smile, that wide-brimmed hat was going to be the first article of her clothing to go.

“Ma’am,” he said with a charming wink when he was close enough to the fence to rest his hands on the edge, “could you perhaps direct me to the nearest inn?”

It was a ridiculous request for a multitude of reasons, the main one being that there was only one inn in town and it was right across the street from where he was standing. He was hoping that the woman would either catch the humor and pick up on the lively wit of her new suitor or else take him for a fool and offer to accompany him there to make sure he didn’t get lost.

But the young woman’s lips were still pressed tightly together and her piercing green eyes were squinted as she stared down the road. She hadn’t moved at all since Gabriel had first laid eyes on her, and he was self-consciously about to make sure that she wasn’t merely a life-like statue when the golden-haired young woman’s eyes flickered, sliding to rest on him for the briefest moment before she yanked her attention back to the road.

A bit affronted by the ignorance, Gabriel glanced over his shoulder to see what had caught the lady’s eye. He could see the finely-dressed form of an older man darting from the doorway of one house to another, but aside from that strange spectacle there seemed to be nothing to distract her from him. He turned back to her a little miffed and almost jumped back in alarm when he found the woman only a few inches away from the fence, her wiry, tapered hands clutching the ridge of fencepost on either side of his. She was about a foot shorter than he, but she was still somehow intimidating in a claw-happy housecat kind of way. Her mouth was still set in a disapproving line, but now her eyes were wide and glaring, the shining green of her irises perfectly complemented by the wisps of light hair that fell across her face. Gabriel saw with a rush of approval that she had a spattering of freckles across the bride of her pert nose.

“What do you want?”

It wasn’t quite the swoon that he’d been hoping for, but the beauty of her melodic voice—even lacking the slightest hint of patience—bolstered Gabriel’s confidence.

“Are you asking about long-term goals, my lady, or do you speak of the immediate future?”

His droll ways didn’t seem to impress her. “Why are you here?”

Gabriel tilted his head to the side, wishing the young woman would blink. Her eyes were too intense for such long bouts of exposure. “I’m on a journey of retrieval and merely passing through your fair town on my way to Knife’s Edge.” He sighed piteously. “A sojourner’s life is a lonely one, and your exquisite beauty caught—”

“Now really isn’t a good time to be here.” Her eyes jumped away and the line of her mouth grew more severe before her gaze returned to his face. “I suggest you forego your night’s stay and hightail it to your big city before things get ugly.”

Considering the turmoil surrounding his arrival, he had some idea of what ugliness she might be referring to. But even the threat of danger didn't make him want to leave the young woman's presence. Gabriel changed tactics, the smile dropping off his face to be replaced with a look of cautious concern.

“What’s going on?”

Her eyes darted away again to glance from side to side before returning to him. She leaned slightly closer and spoke softly, but her voice was urgent enough to make herself clearly audible.

“I think someone’s trying to make my father pay him to keep him from destroying Tradepost.”

She spoke in all seriousness, but Gabriel’s lips twitched before he could control himself. Who would be dumb enough to try to hold up Tradepost? Was there a secret goldmine hidden beneath the village? Were there infamous ex-monarchs hiding away behind the dilapidated facades of the shacks? He wanted to laugh her worries away, but he’d learned at a young age that it was never wise to mock a woman’s fears.

“Who is your father?”

“The mayor,” she answered. “I was out here in the garden and overheard a very . . . disturbing conversation. I'm worried for our safety.”

Gabriel’s heart fluttered. She was noble and fierce as well as beautiful, not to mention that her lowered eyebrows made her face look positively cherubic. He straightened his spine and frowned with determined concern, moving his right hand to rest it gently on top of hers.

“My lady,” he declared warmly, “I am Gabriel Talisman, firstborn son of Lord Geraine Talisman of the fiefdom by the same name, and I promise to do whatever is within my power to ensure that the integrity of this town and the honor of your father are preserved.”

Her eyes flashed and she pulled her hand from beneath his, taking a step back to eye him with dismissal.

“A lord’s son?” she repeated contemptuously, her hands on her hips and her lips curled in an alluring sneer. “You’re not even armed. If you really want to be useful, go in there and kill the man whose sitting at my father’s desk!”

Gabriel nodded once to show that he’d heard her, but he knew he wasn’t even going to mount the steps to the front door, which was a few grades nicer than any of the ones around it. As admirable as the lady’s intensity was, experience had taught him that women usually didn’t know quite as much about the affairs of men as they pretended to. Killing the man might seem to her the simplest solution, but she probably wasn’t aware that whoever was in charge had already taken steps to secure the village. For all he knew, the man inside might not even be the real leader of the operation.

“Before I embark on any rash and perhaps regrettable courses of action in your honor, might I have the privilege of learning your name?” He kept his voice as polite as possible, trying to hide his eagerness.

She eyed him mistrustfully, then glanced again down the road and gave a tiny shrug of resignation before shaking her head. “My name is Elise, but I don’t want you fighting for my honor. Anyone who’d attack a town like Tradepost is pure evil. Fight to oppose them, not to appease me.”

Gabriel gave a bow, astonished by the eloquence of her entreaty. She’d grown up in a rather rustic town, but she spoke like the granddaughter of a king! She was magnanimous, carried herself like a courtier, frowned with the prim regality of a queen . . . he could barely contain his elation. What luck, to meet such a diamond in the rough! Granted, she wasn’t warming to him as quickly as he had hoped she would, but she was under a bit of stress, and playing the role of hero had always been something that Gabriel had been good at, especially when in the service of a beautiful young woman.

Elise. He had no idea of how he would proceed; he needed to find a way of ignoring her advice without hurting her feelings. It was a difficult quandary, but even tired from the hike in Gabriel felt himself reviving at the challenge.

It may not happen as speedily as I’d like, he promised himself, but I won't leave Tradepost until I am well within the good graces of the fair lady Elise.

[Rayse Valentino]

The suit of armor was particularly hot that day, Despite the shade of his helmet, the sun pierced Eric's eyes every time they met. He trudged along the dusty town road, at last reaching the mayor's mansion. He narrowed his eyes, his mind trying to remember what it was he was supposed to do here. He was a simple man, living the mercenary life and only thinking when he was told. More and more had the government contracted and serviced its own hired army, and his profession had become less viable in small numbers. Perhaps this was his big break, and with all his debts repaid he could start a new life, far away from the turmoil of the city. Of course, he knew himself, and after thirty-five years on this planet he knew this was a pipe dream. An old man burst from the mansion, running across the street to the next nearby building. This peculiar event caused Eric to remember his task. Of course! He was to meet the boss in the mayor's house!

The paper lay on the desk, its beholder staring at it in disgust. It had only been a few minutes since Rayse lit his cigarette, but it was already a stub he was grinding between his teeth. He was annoyed, not only at who he thought was responsible for this entire charade, but at himself for going along with it so carelessly. Loud knocks came from the front door, and judging by the sounds he was hearing, his subordinate had gained entry thanks to the mayor's wife and was heading his way. He grabbed the cigarette butt from his mouth and tossed it out the open window. Standing up, he stuffed the all-important document into his vacant pocket and walked to the door, opening it before the other party could.

The armored mercenary jerked himself upright, a bit taken at the sudden door opening, "S, sir! I've come as you said! ...Sir!"

The mayor's wife was dusting on the far side of the hallway, looking suspiciously at the armored man. She had ascertained that he was an acquaintance of the better-dressed fellow, but why he had a fully-armored friend was beyond her. She decided it would be in her best interests to pay it no mind, as it looks like they were leaving anyway.

"How rude of my husband! To suddenly leave you like that! I hope you take no offense to his outburst," said she.

"Of course not, ma'am. In fact, I'll go out and look for him myself," replied Rayse.

The mayor ran into the tavern, shouting "Big trouble, Jim! I want you to get the council members from the west side of town and I'll get the ones from the east. I want to see them in this building within twenty minutes; this is an emergency!"

"Woah now," replied the bartender, "What's all this about? If it's about those tremors, I really don't think..."

"-No, no it's not about that! P, please do me this f-favor, old friend."

While that last part seemed forced, the mayor ran out to the next building. It seems that the tavern at the center of town would be where all the prominent townsfolk would be assembling. Outside the mansion, Rayse and Eric observed the manic mayor.

"Alright, well let's have it," started Rayse, "Give me your report."

Eric looked Rayse right in the eyes and said nothing. The Contractor sighed.

"I know you have good eyes, Eric. You notice things that others do not, even if you don't know it at first. I told you to take the long way into town, and observe your surroundings. What is your report?"

"Oh, that..." Eric paused for a moment, as if deep in thought, "Aha! There was one patron at the inn, a woman I'd say. Aside from that, nothing out of the ordinary, and-"

Knowing that with a report like that, Eric saw nothing out of the ordinary, Rayse stopped him from going into trivialities, "I understand. Remember that if these people try anything, do your 'big whistle' to signal the torch-bearers. I trust you know what those parameters are."

Another armored man appeared from the distance, approaching closer. Rayse knew that the mayor would see these people all over town, not even counting the hidden men whose only purpose would be to set the town alight had negotiations come to a breakdown. Although, it was probably impossible to cover all the areas of the town. The men he sent out on the highway should be back within an hour or so, to conclude this affair.

"By the way, Big Eric, whose idea was this again?" asked Rayse, with emphasis on the was.

"Why, Dereck's of course," Eric nodded, "He's always the brains of our outfit, that he is."

Rayse was already set on his idea. He was going to sell Dereck into slavery.

[Ladies' Man]

He could feel Elise’s eyes on him, but he resisted the urge to turn around and blow her a kiss. She didn’t seem the type to appreciate fond gestures—at least not so early in their relationship. He walked with his head high and his back straight, hoping his bearings would make up for the mud that stained the hems of his pants. When would he have the opportunity to get them cleaned?

But there were other matters that demanded his attention. Most importantly, he needed to find a way to alleviate Elise’s stress so that she’d calm down enough to have a decent conversation. He’d left her with the order to stay in the garden and pretend that she hadn’t overheard anything, just to be safe. Then he’d set off down the road with all the air of a horseless knight going to a joust to win the lady’s honor. He certainly felt that way as he entered the inn, as if he were playing dress-up and acting the fierce warrior for the sake of one of his sister's silly games. It certainly brought back memories of over-sized costumes and rusty swords that he got in major trouble with his father for “borrowing” . . .

The smell that hit Gabriel’s nose as he entered the tavern occupying the ground floor of the inn brought him instantly to the present. In a perhaps overly dramatic show of revulsion, he choked on air and had to take a minute at the door, coughing robustly and waving his hand in front of his face. When he’d grown accustomed enough to the mingled scent of bitter ale and what seemed like rotting flesh that breathing was again a viable option, he took a moment to survey the room before sauntering further in. It was a sparse establishment; no thought had been given to potential embellishments that could have brightened the place up or given it a more refined décor. Everything was made out of cheap but sturdy wood, and clean windows intermittently lined the walls with cheap lanterns that were as yet unlit. There was a big black cauldron hanging over the fire in the large hearth at one end, and Gabriel had the nauseating feeling that whatever the stench was that had assailed his nostrils was being produced by whatever was being mercilessly boiled in the pot.

“Can I ’elp ya, sir?”

He’d made it to the bar without retching and sat gingerly on one of the wooden stools, resting his hands on his knees so that he wouldn’t have to risk staining his sleeves on any kind of sticky remnant that might have been left on the bar. The voice speaking to him belonged to a tall and gangly red-headed boy behind the counter who looked downright uncomfortable in the clean apron that hung around his neck.

“Actually, it’s quite possible that you can,” Gabriel said graciously. “I’m looking for some information on what’s going on in town today.”

The boy scratched his nose, his eyes wandering around the room as if in search of an intelligent thought. “I don’t think there’s anything planned goin’ on today.”

Gabriel frowned. “Are you sure? Did a man not come running by- or perhaps- in here a short while ago?”

The youth nodded. “Oh yeah! That was the mayor.”

Gabriel waited, but that seemed to be all that the boy offered. He sighed. “Is there an adult around here that I could speak with?”

The lad stepped closer and glared at Gabriel indignantly. “I am an adult! I’m fourteen, and I’m gonna inherit this here inn from my da.”

“Not if you can’t learn how to speak properly,” Gabriel said with a touch of compassion. This boy was definitely the most uncultured youth that he had ever laid eyes on.

“Hey, I’ll throw you out, I will!” His face was getting red enough to match his hair. “Just you wait til my da gets back from getting the men together for the council meeting, and then you’ll be sorry!”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and dropped a few copper coin on the counter before rising to leave. “Thanks, kid. Bring me a cup of something from a barrel that doesn’t have dead animals floating in it, all right?”

He went to a table on the side of the tavern nearest to the street and sat down facing the door, making sure he could still see the bar out of the corner of his eye, just in case the kid decided to spit in his drink or something like that. There were few other patrons, just two pairs of men deep in discussion and another sitting alone with a half-empty pitcher in hand where his mug should have been who was definitely not alert enough to be bothered by the smell. And to think that this was the liveliest place in town . . . Gabriel felt a moment’s pity for the tiny town.

He peered through the window to look at the mayor’s house, hoping to catch a glimpse of glorious beauty that would make his current environment more bearable, but Elise was no longer in the garden. Had she gone behind the house? He hoped she wasn’t getting herself involved in some kind of stupid ruse to help her father. Why did women have such a hard time of not getting involved in men’s affairs? The mayor’s daughter had already found a soft and tender spot in his heart, and he certainly didn’t want anything to happen to her.

After a short time, men began to trickle in, most looking confused and annoyed, as if they’d been called there unexpectedly for unknown reasons. Were they members of the council? Gabriel couldn't think of a good, non-imminently violent reason for why a surprise council meeting would be called. Could it be that those men who'd bothered him on the road had some kind of sinister plot in mind for Tradepost? It didn't seem likely, but he left the drink the boy brought him untouched and sat up straight in his chair to wait for the mayor’s reappearance. He was beginning to think that maybe Elise wasn’t quite so unwarrantably hysterical after all.

[Rayse Valentino]

The reason for the meeting was very clear in Rayse's eyes, although what exactly they were going to discuss perturbed him. He did not like the idea of them mobilizing to form some sort of militia, or any other possibility that didn't involve giving him money. He let the townspeople gather, only observing from the far. Most of the people entering the tavern noticed the armored men on the way there, so great concern was given to make sure nobody lagged behind. When they were all gathered, the mayor entered the tavern finally. Rayse waited until they had started talking before entering to draw attention away from himself. It took about fifteen minutes for them all to get settled.

Standing on the bar table itself, the mayor announced, "My people, we are in a moment of crisis! Our fears have been realized, and men have come demanding money of our poor town!"

One woman spoke up, "Is that the nature of the armored men outside?"

"I'm afraid so," he replied.

The townsfolk immediately burst into gossip, leaving the pitiful mayor to jitter and gnash his teeth.

"Please! Listen to me! We only have an hour and a half to decide all this! The problem of money was discussed in the last city council meeting, and I'm afraid we are simply unable to give into this demand."

Rayse, standing near the entrance in a shadow, pulled out the piece of paper in his pocket and glossed over it again. The mayor wasn't lying; they were all broke.

"What about our investments? The extensions to the city, the new marketplace, everything! It's all finalized already, there is no going back on them!" One man spoke up, referring to the fact that construction had already begun and all the materials were in use.

"T-T-This is why I have called you all! We are to figure out a solution to this dilemma! They are demanding 2,000 of us!"

Rayse thought, "Figures, all those zeros on that contract means they're in debt now. I wasn't really planning on burning this place down, but I am a man of my word."

Once again the mayor's voice was obstructed by the yelling of the townspeople. All of them were asking each other how much they had or if they had anything of value, and many negative replies and shaking heads defined the event. Rayse couldn't help but notice the pretty boy sitting off by himself, uninvolved with the discussions. The young man was well-dressed and looking a lot more refined than the rest of the people in the room, including Rayse himself. Big Eric had not mentioned him, so where did he come from? It was possible he was here before all this started, but for such a guy to stay in this place so long seemed unlikely. Rayse did not consider that he crept into the town undetected.

[Ladies' Man]

Gabriel let out a soft whistle at the mayor’s last pronouncement. Two thousand gold? From Tradepost? Whoever these brigands were, they must not have done much research on their target before attacking. Trying to find that much money among the people who lived here was like hoping to find pearls in snail shells!

“What’ll happen to us if we can’t find the money?” A tight-lipped man asked from beside the mayor’s table. Apparently the entire council had been called to the meeting, but there were still less than twenty people in the room, none dressed in clothes that rivaled even the mayor’s mediocre apparel. Gabriel could easily imagine that the only person in the room with gold on his person at the moment was himself. His eyes roamed the room and met those of a man who stood at the door whose gaze had been resting on him. He didn’t seem any more a part of the council than Gabriel was, but he still had an air of belonging, as if he, at least, believed that he had the right to be there. The outburst of voices near the mayor pulled his attention away.

“Look, we don’t have the money,” a loud man was saying, his face red with anger, “and no lord is going to defend us because we don't hold no allegiance to any fiefdom. Why don’t we just tell the bastards to bugger off and find someone to rob who actually has money?”

The mayor’s lined face went pale, and his eyes flickered fearfully over the heads of the council members in front of him to rest on the man lounging near the door, then jerked quickly away as he shook his head.

“They’ll burn down the town,” he said mournfully.

A gasp echoed through the tavern as the men and women of the council looked at each other with incredulous shock and horror. Gabriel’s eyebrows rose. Burn down the town? Wasn’t that overly dramatic? That would just be a spiteful insult to people already suffering from scarcity, an especially cruel blow since they had only recently begun building to expand the town’s limits. More importantly, demolishing the town would be a huge inconvenience for the fiefdoms that were too far from Knife’s Edge to trade straight with store owners, but there was no other town that would substitute as a merchant stop-over. His own family’s fiefdom would suffer the repercussions of the loss, and who knew how long it would take the town to get back on its feet?

“We don’t have to sit back and take this!” The voice that rang out through the tavern was heartwarmingly familiar, but hearing it made Gabriel grimace as he twisted his head to get a better look at the bar. The red-haired boy was still standing behind the bar, but his eyes were fixed with awestruck admiration at the slender figure that stood on the counter, hands on hips and face fixed in a stern frown as she stared her father in the eye across the gap that separated them.

Oh, Elise.

The mayor blanched and took a step across his table towards her. “Elise, darling, please go home now. This is an important council meeting and—”

“I’m not just going to sit at home and knit while you hand our future to a bunch of criminals,” she declared hotly, stepping towards him as well so that the tips of her toes were at the edge of the counter. “We don’t have to roll over and whimper with our tails between our legs while these . . . these monsters destroy our lives!”

“Elise,” a man on the floor said in a placating voice, “we don’t have the money. Please be reasonable.”

“Being reasonable isn’t an option,” she shouted. “We need to fight them! We need to get our weapons and gather our men and defend what’s ours!”

“Elise!” The mayor turned to look nervously at the man by the door before he faced his daughter again, his eyes pleading. “Calm down, dear. For all of our sake.”

The entire council was talking loudly over each other, some agreeing with Elise and others vehemently opposing, but Gabriel was as mesmerized by the fiery woman on the counter as the gangly boy who was still staring up at her with an open mouth. She had taken off the hat and stood with her brilliant hair loose, cascading down the front of her white dress like streams of gold through snow-covered hills. Her cheeks were flushed and even from a distance Gabriel could see her green eyes flash with emerald fire. She was a beauty, no doubt, but she was also—regretfully— an activist. Attempting to mollify her with artificial assistance was apparently not going to be enough to win this one over. It was going to take real endorsement of her noble cause to bring her to his side, but if that was what it took, then that was precisely what Gabriel was willing to do.

His mind churned, running the situation through the logic formulas that his father had pounded into his head from childhood. The situation did not seem promising. Premises: 1. The villains want money from Tradepost. 2. Tradepost does not have money. 3. If Tradepost will not give the villains money, the villains will burn Tradepost down. Conclusion: Tradepost will be burnt down.

Gabriel grimaced and looked again to the man at the door. The mayor kept looking at him as if he expected the lounging man to turn into a dragon and eat them all at any moment. Was he the one whom Elise had heard in her father’s office? If so, then it was probably safe to say that he was at least the spokesman for the brigands, and therefore the one to whom negotiations and pleading could be directed.

New argument. Premises: 1. Villian A is in charge of operation and wants money from Tradepost. 2. Tradepost does not have money. 3. Elise would be very impressed and eternally grateful if I saved Tradepost from the villains. 4. Villian A is money-grubbing human, and I have 200 gold. Conclusion: I’m going to get the girl.

Stifling a triumphant grin, he stood up suddenly, pushing his chair back as he did so that it grated noisily against the floor, and stood with his back straight and his head high. It took a moment for the members of the council to notice him, but he waited until he had received curious glances from about half before he lifted one hand and took a step away from his table.

“Wait,” he said in the most commanding voice he could muster. Frantic conversation stilled to a murmur as the council members turned their eyes to glare at him. Some of their faces changed as they noticed his fine clothes and noble bearings, but Gabriel kept his expression neutral and met the mayor’s questioning look.

“This is indeed a time of trial for this small town, a time that could end in disaster or relief, depending on how wisely you, members of the council, conduct yourselves and your affairs.” He had their attention, and he clasped his hands behind his back and strode slowly towards them. “Tradepost is on the brink of destruction, but all of us in here are men . . . and women . . . who are intelligent enough to find a way to avoid needless devastation and to work out our disagreements and our conflict in a way that is noble and fitting of our class. We are Salvaran, and we ascribe to a higher standard of negotiation. No need to lower ourselves to petty threats and unwarranted demolition! Let us examine the situation as it stands and work with what we have to determine a solution that will be beneficial to all parties involved.”

Gabriel wanted to glance at Elise to see what she thought of his grand speech, but instead he studiously avoided acknowledging her existence. He didn’t want her to think that he was doing all this just to impress her; that would make her think he was shallow.

“Yes, yes, all right,” the mayor agreed eagerly. “What can we do?”

Gabriel let his expression become thoughtful and he crossed one arm over his chest and tapped his chin with the fingers of his other hand. “Tradepost does not have funds of any sort with which to meet these men’s demands, correct?”

“That’s right,” answered one of the council members, accompanied by a chorus of nods and murmurs of agreement.

“And Tradepost also does not have any kind of militia or armed guardsmen with which to defend itself?”

The assent from the council was louder this time.

“Then it seems that the only thing left for the people of Tradepost to do,” Gabriel continued, “is to ask the men making the demands for a fair contest by which you can attempt to defend yourself and hope that there is at least a shred of honor in them that will grant them mercy for your plight.”

“What kind of contest?” A woman asked warily.

Gabriel met the eyes of the council, one at a time, before letting his gaze rest on the shady man by the door.

“A duel.”

“A duel?”

Gabriel ignored the incredulity in their voices and kept his eyes on the man by the door, hoping that the mayor’s nervous eye flickering wasn’t leading him to make a fool of himself.

“Yes, a duel,” he said, carefully watching the man in an attempt to gauge his reaction. “I offer myself as Tradepost’s champion, and I challenge the leader of this marauding band to a knife fight to determine the fate of the town. If I win, he and his men must leave without hurting anything or anyone. And if I lose, the town will burn without opposition.”

It was indeed a noble risk, but Gabriel wasn’t worried about the possibility of being responsible for a city-wide inferno. He was good with his knives, and he wasn’t actually planning to have to fight for survival anyway. If the bandit took the deal, all Gabriel would have to do was find a way to negotiate a private deal, one that involved the 200 gold he had in his backpack. It wasn’t 2,000 like they wanted, but it was at least a consolation prize and better than leaving with nothing to show for the heist but empty wallets and sooty clothes. The brigands would get their gold, and he would get Elise's undying affection. It was a win-win situation! At least, that was what he was hoping the criminal would think once he had the chance to explain it to him.

Gabriel turned and stepped closer to the door so that his face was out of sight of the council members. Still staring at the cause of the mayor’s terror, he gave the man a quick grin and dropped one of his eyelids in a covert wink.

“What say you?”

[Rayse Valentino]

Rayse frowned at the outburst caused by the young maiden. Someone so beautiful shouldn't be so angry, he thought. Nonetheless, he was less impressed with how this meeting was going. It was not until that one out-of-place patron spoke up that things took a turn for the strange. The man was noticing Rayse as much as the mayor was, and even offered The Contractor a sly wink while speaking of his duel. Something was definitely up, and Rayse was all about compromises at this point. Making eye contract with Gabriel, he pointed to the door leading outside and walked through it.

While he was walking out, he heard the mayor yelling something, but it was blocked out by the chattering of the other people. Nothing was going to get accomplished listening to them.

Outside, Dereck and Big Eric were already standing guard, and Rayse instructed them to go inside and if anyone speaks up, to tell them to remain quiet while negotiations were in progress. Mainly, Rayse didn't want them to hear what Gabriel was going to say to him.

Rayse had no idea what the young upstart had to offer, or what the nature of his 'duel' was, but he figured it was worth saying, "Alright, I'm listening."

[Ladies' Man]

Gabriel was almost surprised when the man by the door picked up on the gig right away. It wasn’t that he’d assumed that the bandit would be too stupid . . . well, maybe he had. He waited until the thief had disappeared through the tavern doorway, and then he turned to give the council a confident nod, taking the opportunity to steal a glance at Elise. She was still standing on the counter, hands still on her hips, but her face . . . was she angry? Confused? Worried for his life, maybe? No matter how long he lived, he didn’t think he’d ever get to the point where he could understand a woman's expressions.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have the time to study her, because his one hope at redemption was waiting outside. He turned with a flourish and strode after the man.

“Be careful,” the mayor called after him amid the rising hubbub of council debate, but Gabriel let the door swing shut behind him without acknowledgment. Two rather intimidating men pushed past him into the tavern, and Gabriel waited until the door was firmly shut behind them as well before he stuck his hands into his pockets and approached the dark-haired brigand.

“So here’s the deal,” Gabriel said without preamble, keeping his voice low. “At the moment, neither of us is anywhere near getting what we want, and to be frank, it’s your little heist that’s getting in the way of our happiness. You want gold, but you obviously picked the wrong town to steal it from. I want Elise, but she’s so obsessed with saving Tradepost—from you, I might add— that she’s not being very receptive to my attempts at befriending.” He gave the man a stern glower to show just how his interference was affecting him before going on. “So here’s the compromise: I have 200 gold buried in a very discreet location within this town. The money can be yours, but in return, you have to help me win the lady’s favor.”

[Rayse Valentino]

While Gabriel talked, Rayse had a chance to take a closer look at him. Silk and linen, this guy was definitely wearing something valuable. Judging by the two sheaths at his waist, he was also armed. No, this guy wasn't from around here, and it didn't seem like his things were at the local inn either. Of course, all these details were quite trivial, and Rayse soon found himself presented with a strange offer.

Fixed upon his own self-confidence, he smiled sadistically, "If that's all you'll offer, I must decline. If you want to buy this place's salvation (and apparently the affection of one of its residents), I'll need more than just your week's allowance."

The last comment was Rayse's hint that he more than knew about the kind of place Gabriel originated from just by his appearance. Rayse began to wonder... Was that hostile woman the one Gabriel was after? He seemed rather fixated on her in observation.

"By the way, the name's Valentino. Rayse Valentino. I don't like to do deals anonymously."

* * * * * *

Inside, the council further deliberated on the matter, with some asking about the identity of the outspoken young man. Most were sitting in silence, fearing for their lives when the armored men came in. Even though Dereck assured them of their safety, they were still shaking in their seats.

"I gotta say," said Dereck as he stared at Elise, "That's one fine honey. Right, Big Eric?"

"Huh?" replied Eric, oblivious to the differences of the women in the tavern, "Which one do ya mean?"

"The one in the white dress, you clod! The one with the green eyes! How can you miss her?!"

"Oh... Oh! It's that one, isn't it?"

Dereck sighed and continued admiring the beauty. What he wouldn't do to get a girl like that with him alone.

[Ladies' Man]

It took a good deal of self-control for Gabriel to keep his expression neutral when the bandit gave his reply. He’d thought that his bargain would have been borderline irresistible, considering the man’s alternatives. Who was he to sneer at 200 gold?

Rayse Valentino, apparently. Or, at least, that was the pseudonym the man was using at the time. Gabriel didn’t like the way his eyes glinted, and he didn’t like the way he smiled. Hell, he just didn’t like the man! He was idiotically standing in the way of Gabriel’s conquest, and that made him an enemy, and a troublesome one at that who didn’t have the decency to compromise when the odds of success were already stacked against him.

But Gabriel had to admit that it was his own fault that Valentino hadn’t taken the offer. He hadn’t given his name, but he hadn't taken any measures to disguise the fact that he wasn’t just a local farmer, and judging from the thief’s knowing smirk and the comment about an “allowance,” the man before had at least an inkling of his nobility.

Gabriel cleared his throat and pushed his fingers lightly through his hair, clenching his teeth to keep his irritation from showing on his face. Valentino wasn’t a moron, but his assumption of Gabriel’s readily-available cash was still wrong. When he left home, he had taken the majority of his personal savings, but with his father so recently dead he’d felt a little guilty for not just leaving the gold with his mother in case she needed it. But he couldn’t tell Valentino that he just needed to run home to get more money; half of their guardsmen had been murdered in the robbery that killed his father and the new trainees hadn't been anywhere near up to par when left; it would be like leading a wolf back to the fold! But he was a fool; he’d broken the cardinal rule of bartering by laying all his cards on the table in his first turn. Why hadn't he started with 100 gold so that he'd have leeway in negotiating? The bandit had all the chips now, and all Gabriel could do was backpedal and hope that Valentino wasn’t as greedy as he seemed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Gabriel said sardonically with a polite nod. It didn’t hurt to be civil, even if the recipient was not. “My name is Gabriel.”

He had decided at the last moment not to include his last name in a rather unsubtle attempt to protect his family, just in case the brigand did decide to try to rob someone with more money. It wasn’t covert, but it wasn’t strictly rude, either. He’d already given Valentino everything else; it seemed fair to withhold at least his name. But what was he going to do about his demands for more money? He certainly didn’t have any more with him.

Gabriel smiled self-deprecatingly. “Perhaps you misunderstand my circumstances, sir. The sum that I offered you is not, as you might have once correctly assumed, an ‘allowance,’ it is in fact the entire sum of money that I hold to my name. I'm not on vacation, sir, I'm heading for Knife's Edge to find a new home. If I were my elder brother, of course, I would have a good deal more gold and a generous piece of land to offer you with it, but as inheritance goes, I only have that 200 thanks to a fluke in my father’s will.”

It was a sound story, he thought, one that rang of truth and that most sons with brothers could relate to. Now he just had to wait and see if the fabrication flew with Valentino.

[Rayse Valentino]

Rayse took out a pack of cigarettes and put one in his mouth. He lit it quickly, but inhaled and exhaled slowly, letting the refreshing feelings wash over him.

"Sometimes I can't decide what is the best part of a smoke: The taste, the calmness of my nerves, or the clearness of my head."

Rayse took another drag of the cigarette, "We are not so fortunate to have all the answers of the world, and so my mystery remains unsolved."

It was apparent that this guy was hiding something. Rayse had no come all this way for some piddling sum. No, all the time spent planning this event would be a waste. He didn't particularly care that he only procured a first name out of this person, nor his apparent life story, but at least now he had some way to address him. He figured 'pretty boy' probably wouldn't go so well.

"Your mystery, however, is not so complicated. Value is not only a trait of money. Gold is still gold in its many incarnations. If you want to win that pretty lady's heart, I'll need something more of value, and I am sure you have something that would satisfy both our desires."

[Ladies' Man]

Gabriel couldn’t keep a frown from crossing his face. At first he had racked his brains, trying to find some hidden meaning in Valentino’s cryptic comments that would pertain to the situation. He couldn’t find any application, so he dismissed them and focused on the relevant part of the reply, the refusal of his offer. The bandit didn’t believe his story, or else he was still clinging to the desperate hope that Gabriel could provide something to make the ordeal worthwhile.

Gabriel glanced back at the door of the inn, wondering if the townspeople inside were starting to wonder at what was taking him so long. Lengthy negotiations made people nervous, and this was supposed to be a cut and dry deal. Gabriel turned his attention back to Valentino, staring with unabashed curiosity at his unnatural cigar. It was thinner than a normal cigar and white, but it seemed to have the same mellowing effects. Perhaps it was something new in the big city that had yet to trickle down to the country boys in the fiefs.

He had to look away, turning his eyes to the ground so that he could focus on the matter at hand. What was it Valentino wanted? It rankled him a bit that the man was such a greedy scumbag that he’d turn up his nose to a disowned orphan’s entire fortune without a word of sympathy, but it did show something of the man’s character, and any slight advantage he could gain over the brigand could turn out to be useful.

Something of value? What did he think disinherited sons of nobles carried around with them; diamonds? Mythril? Magical amulets that gave them the power to turn dust into ale? Gabriel had left his backpack beneath the table inside the tavern, pressed as unobtrusively as possible against the wall. What did he have inside that would interest a professional thief? He had a good novel . . . but he was only halfway through, and he didn’t think he could endure the agony of going through life without ever finding out what happened to the heroes. He had a rope . . . a cheap compass . . . a clean shirt . . . all things that the man would probably be insulted to be offered. He had his father’s signet ring tucked into a secret pocket on his coat, but there was no way in hell that he was going to give up the one proof of his birthright. He could offer his daggers, but they were made of iron and couldn’t have been worth more than fifty gold together. He had two of the Girls, his other daggers, but if he was reluctant to give up his father’s ring then he was downright clingy when it came to them. Not even the precious Elise was worth the loss of Truth or Grace.

Gabriel gave a heavy sigh and shook his head, offering the smoking thief a perplexed and helpless shrug. “I’d turn out my pockets to you if there was anything in them, Valentino, but I wasn’t lying when I told you that I’m not a rich man anymore.”

The bartering was starting to make him feel a little nervous. He’d been certain that the brigand would be open to settling for a smaller sum, considering that even ten percent was better than nothing. Now he was locked in a deal that depended on the whims of a bandit, and if he wasn’t careful he could find himself losing a lot more than his gold.

Elise, you'd better be worth it.

*******

Inside the tavern, the volume of conversation had fallen to an urgent murmur at the presence of the burly henchmen by the door. Even on the table the mayor was barely a foot above the taller one, and one look at the man’s surly expression made him quietly climb down.

“This is foolishness,” Garta hissed as soon as his feet touched the floor. The weaver’s hands were wrapped tightly around the ends of her scarf as if she were going to whip it off and strangle him with it at any moment. It might have been a relief. “How on earth do you expect us to entrust our lives and futures to this boy we’ve never even seen before?”

“It’s not as if we have much of a choice.” The voice of the blacksmith was quiet not only in an attempt to soothe her, but also because he was probably just as afraid of her as other wise men. “They were going to burn us down before he intervened.”

“I still say we need to fight, whether or not he’s successful in negotiating a deal.” Elise had jumped down from her counter as well and stood with the council members as if she were their equal, hands crossed over her chest and glaring at anyone who gave her a sideways glance.

“We don’t even know who he is,” Garta screeched in a whisper. The mayor held back a sigh. It really had been a mistake to send Elise to her for schooling. They were like two shrieking hens in a cage when together. How was he ever going to marry Elise off if she started acting like the man-hating spinster?

“His name’s Gabriel. He’s the son of a local lord,” Elise informed them, keeping her voice low.

“What family?”

“Talisman.”

The mayor grunted in surprise. “That’s Geraine’s boy?”

Garta looked at him with narrowed eyes. “You know him?”

“I know his father. He died recently . . . some kind of robbery, I think. He used to conduct all his business here. A good name.” The mayor was frowning distractedly even as he spoke. If that really was the son of Geraine Talisman, then the situation had just become a little more troublesome. Geraine had been a man who could hold his drink, but after too much ale he was wont to complain loudly and at length about the innumerable faults of his weak and womanly only son. If the boy was as incompetent as his father believed and got himself killed in a duel, the rebuilding of the town wouldn’t be the only problem that Tradepost faced when the bandits left. Murdering a noble was an act of treason, a crime that warranted the investigation of the Church of the Ethereal Sway, and with his father so recently dead as well, the Church might be tempted to start investigating the possibility of a conspiracy, which would inevitably lead them to scrutinize the affairs of Tradepost with unprecedented interest. With Tradepost’s major attraction being the lack of accountability to the government and local fiefdoms -- and their tariffs -- that its anonymity provided, being the target of a Church inquisition would be hugely detrimental to the business affairs of the unofficial town.

The mayor sank into a chair and rested his head on his hands, letting the debate of the council wash over him. Why didn't I retire when I had the chance?

[Rayse Valentino]

Gabriel had began to look rather destitute, a change from his excited gestures earlier. Rayse stood tall, his figure almost looming over Gabriel's like some sort of demon. He could make this guy break, he could make him give up the very clothes on his back if he pushed hard enough, since he still did not offer his trump card of threatening to declare this underhanded negotiation with the townsfolk inside. On the other hand, this was already taking way too long. The calming waves of the insidious vapors left his body, and with them his frustrations followed. He felt that perhaps what Gabriel was hiding was some sort of treasure, a feeling that Rayse could understand as he felt his mother's thin, gold necklace around his neck, with the inside of it under his shirt. It could've been something that Gabriel valued deeply, but its actual value would be minimal. Body language was a powerful tool in negotiations, and apparently his fellow conspirator was not as proficient in it as he. Rayse read him like a book. Nonetheless, this entire affair was a good excuse to not burn the town down. Plus, a new plan hatched in Rayse's mind. Perhaps there was a way to get rid of these useless mercenaries and still get what he wanted from them.

"Consider yourself indebted to me," he spoke, finishing off his cigarette and tossing it behind him onto the road, "I'll take your gold, but I'll also take your word, as you'll take mine. I expect this favor repaid someday, so don't forget my name, because I won't forget yours, 'Gabriel'."

Gabriel was quite a lucky guy to get a deal like this, it was an almost otherworldly luck. He looked upon Gabriel's belt once more, and judged the contents of the sheaths by their size. He doubted that some sort of glamorous weapon was contained within, and the shape of the sheaths made the possibility of short swords unlikely. They could be daggers, which for all intents and purposes were good enough.

Rayse already formulated a plan for this alleged duel, "Quite a coincidence that you are proficient with knives, unless those are for show. Mine will be real, and if for a moment you appear to be genuinely attacking, don't expect any mercy."

Rayse wasn't particularly trusting of Gabriel. It was not because of Gabriel himself, but rather the violent Elise. Considering that she wanted him dead, and Gabriel wanted her heart, they could both want Rayse's head on a silver platter. A duel of this nature puts Rayse in supreme risk, as the townspeople could get the idea that his death would prevent the town burning down.

Without even waiting for Gabriel's reply, he burst into the tavern and announced in a loud voice, "I have accepted the terms presented to me. We shall have a duel with knives, and should I lose, I will leave your town in peace."

"But... should I win, every last building will be burned to the ground. While my boss would not approve of this, I'm a man of honor and will pay him the ransom myself upon my defeat."

Of course, Rayse had no boss, and even the two mercenaries had incredulous looks on their faces. They began to wonder if they didn't just owe money to Rayse, but rather a higher power that was much more deadly. Hearing him announce such a thing made them think very highly of Rayse, for they thought he was now saving them.

"The rules have been agreed upon: First person to be pinned down loses. Also, if the knife is dislodged from either of our hands by force, it also counts as defeat."

The room fell silent. It seems they all had some sort of blank look on their faces. Rayse nearly lost his composure from their dimwitted expressions, he hoped that Gabriel would come in and confirm all this, as he apparently had much more sway with these people.

[Ladies' Man]

Gabriel was so stunned by Valentino’s sudden change of mind that he was still staring at the place where he had been after the brigand had already gone back into the tavern. Hadn’t the man ever heard of conversational courtesies? Leaving so abruptly was definitely a breach of the gentlemen’s code of conduct. And then there was the issue of the debt that he had just been given. His father had always warned him about being indebted to questionable persons, and now this creepy thief had power over him that could come back to bite him in the ass at the most inopportune moment. With a sinking feeling in his chest, Gabriel ran his hand through his hair and exhaled heavily. What had he gotten himself into?

Valentino’s voice rang from inside the tavern, and Gabriel turned and darted back inside as quickly as possible at the silence that met his grim pronouncement.

“The outlaws have agreed to the terms of our negotiations,” Gabriel said loudly in a voice intentionally tinged with grateful relief as he forced anxiety out of his expression and straightened his shoulders to project as self-assured an image as he could muster. “If I am successful in defeating this man, they will leave peacefully and Tradepost will be left untouched. Now, you may—”

“And if you lose?” Elise’s sharp voice interrupted what had been the start of a loquacious and heartfelt spiel on the noble effort that he would dedicate to the preservation of their town, but just the sound of her voice—harsh and skeptical thought it was—was enough to wipe Gabriel’s mind of coherent thought. He turned a quick smile towards her as he formulated an answer.

“If I lose,” he said somberly, turning to look at Valentino to make sure the council know that it was him and not Gabriel who ought to be the one under inquisition, “then as he said, they will show the town no mercy.”

“It seems we are left with no choice,” said a buzzard-like old woman with a scarf around her neck and a sour grimace on her face. “Our homes and livelihoods are in the hands of this boy.”

Gabriel, fighting offended indignation, didn’t have the opportunity to bring up the fact that without his intervention the town would probably have been burned down anyway. A few of the council members turned to mutter at her in harsh whispers, and the mayor’s weary voice rose from the table at which he was sitting.

“When will this fight take place?”

The defeat in the mayor’s voice was even more offensive than the old hag’s cynicism. There was a distinct lack of faith in the room that was beginning to get on Gabriel’s nerves. Why was everyone so pessimistic?

“As soon as my opponent is ready,” Gabriel told them, looking questionably at Valentino. The sky outside was a fading pink, promising the dark of night before long, but there was at least enough light to make a dagger glint, and outdoors there was room for evasion . . . just in case.

[Rayse Valentino]

Rayse wasn't sure if Gabriel was going to win the favor of his eye candy even after winning. It seemed like a hopeless cause. Nonetheless, Rayse did not particularly care for Gabriel's love life or lack thereof.

"Now is fine, right outside here." Rayse answered, which prompted another bout of silence over the assuredness of his voice. He almost turned pale from their obliviousness. He coughed and walked outside.

"Why did our alleged savior let him decide the time and place?" One of the woman whispered to her husband, who merely shrugged. She sighed.

Outside, dusk had fallen over the quaint little town. The orange glow of the sun pierced the canopy of the trees around the houses. Rayse stood in the middle of the street, looking at his reflection on the knife. The dirt road was wide enough to accommodate a carriage, and although it was not kept in the best of conditions, it didn't seem likely that either he or Gabriel would trip on the rough terrain. He also that any of them would recognize Kapteyn, but he didn't really need more disbelief in their minds. He definitely noticed a change in the air when he entered the tavern again. They seemed less confident in their hero than the last time he was in there. It's a bit of a stretch, but there could be a potential reason for that: They know him. It was one of his gut feelings, and he had no real evidence to suggest such a notion, but it was there.

An armored man came up to Rayse and awkwardly reported to him, "Sir, there's, uh, nothing suspicious going on, sir!"

Rayse didn't especially want his mercenaries to witness this, so he sent this one away with the mission of directing the other mercenaries to the rendezvous spot, and to personally tell the people at that location not to burn the town down. Assuming the plan had been some sort of success, the mercenary hurried off to accomplish his task. Some of them might be sharp enough to notice that my claim about having a boss is a lie. I want to keep them all out of this until it's all over.

Inside the tavern, the council members scrambled out of their seats and went outside to watch the fight. The only ones that remained in the tavern at the moment were Eric, Dereck, Gabriel, the mayor, and Elise. When Gabriel left the tavern, the mayor reluctantly followed, but the two guards stopped Elise from exiting.

"Not so fast, missy," said Dereck, grabbing Elise and covering her mouth to muffle her scream, "Those were some unkind words you said about us earlier there. There's a back exit to this place, ain't there Eric?"

"I believe so, but... should we really do this? Won't Mr. Valentino get mad?"

"Nah, he'll reward us! I bet those idiots won't find themselves so conveniently broke when there's a life on the line!"

When everything was set up, Rayse beckoned to his opponent to make the opening attack. He didn't want to wait around for his girlfriend to catch up, as he had somewhat of a time limit now. He held his knife in his right hand, pointing left, and had both hands in front of him, his left over his right at his eye level. There was really no tactical advantage to gain from this position, but it made his knife stand out. If Gabriel was able to recognize the origin of the knife, he would know he was dealing with a professional and wouldn't try anything funny.

"Take your best shot," taunted Rayse.

[Ladies' Man]

Gabriel knew he was losing the council. Their faces were worried again and not one person was looking at him with the kind of grateful concern that he’d been expecting. Maybe it had been a mistake to let Valentino choose the dueling time. He should have scheduled it for dawn so that they could have had a little time to let the magnitude of his sacrifice weigh on their consciences. But the bandit had just walked out and was obviously ready for a fight, and the council members were following him, brushing past Gabriel with mistrustful glances or averted eyes. What had he done wrong? He hated not knowing how to make people happy. The mayor was still seated at his table, somberly staring at Gabriel as if the younger man had just evicted him from his home. But he hadn’t . . . yet.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Gabriel.” Elise’s voice was like a beam of angry sunlight splitting the clouds of doubt that nagged at his mind. She had been standing at her father’s shoulder, but now she moved towards him, her arms crossed over her chest, and the beauty of her face helped him ignore the fact that she was glaring at him as she drew near.

He forced an unaffected smile onto his face as he took off his coat. “I promised, Elise, remember?”

He had to pretend not to see her answering grimace, but the slight cut him to the core. He set his coat over the back of a chair and moved closer to her, his expression somber. “I’m just trying to help.”

“You’re hinging everything on your own skill! Not only is that incredibly vain, but it’s also incredibly foolish,” she exploded. “What if you lose?”

“They were going to burn the town anyway, Elise! At least this way there’s a chance of getting them to leave without hurting anything.” He didn't like having to lie, but it wouldn't hurt his case if he kept her in suspense.

“We don’t need you to die for us,” she said hotly.

“Well that’s good,” Gabriel replied with a smile, “because I don’t plan to.”

Elise shook her head, her golden hair spilling across her face. “This is stupid. We should have just fought them! We have weapons and men and . . .”

Gabriel stood in front of her and took hold of her shoulders, bending slightly to look her seriously in the eye. “Fighting isn’t always the answer,” he murmured sagely.

Elise frowned and shrugged off his gloved hands. “That’s especially meaningless coming from you.”

Gabriel chuckled and loosened the daggers on his belt. Valentino was outside, and it probably wasn’t wise to make the bandit wait. But he still had time for one last move. He walked with heavy steps to the door, his head bowed as if he were struggling under the pressure of his task. When he reached the doorway, he turned to look at the green-eyed beauty again.

“If I win, Elise,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of solemnity, “It’ll be for you.”

Then he turned and walked out of the inn without waiting for a response. Elise seemed the kind of woman who liked to react in private. He stepped into the street and took his time walking towards the small crowd of observers and the bandit that waited at the center of their circle. The inn’s door opened and shut behind him, but he kept his eyes on Valentino, who already had his weapon out and ready. He was in a showy but unhelpful position, and when Gabriel was about five feet away from he stopped, pulled out one of the knives on his belt, and assumed an equally flashy but ineffectual pose, standing sideways with his weight on his back leg and his unsheathed dagger in his left hand, extended towards his opponent while the other hand hovered in front of his face in defense. The sky was growing dark, but adrenaline was already moving through Gabriel’s veins, and he couldn’t hold back the vicious grin that spread across his face at Valentino's invitation.

“Love to,” he murmured in reply. A second later he propelled himself off his back leg, hurtling forward and twisting the knife in his outstretched hand so that it sped in a curved arc towards Valentino’s head. It was a fast attack, but his movements were subtly exaggerated so that anyone with any training in knives could tell exactly what he was aiming to do. It was the kind of swing that would've cost him the fight against a seasoned knivesman, but he didn't want to make any mistakes with this one. The bandit had said that he was good, but before Gabriel worked too hard to make the fight look realistic, he needed to know exactly how good his opponent was.

[Rayse Valentino]

While Rayse agreed to the duel, he wasn't exactly sure how to carry it out. He had been in plenty of mock duels in the army, but he wasn't sure Gabriel knew how they were done. The way pretty boy acted, it seemed unlikely that he was ever in the army or anything similar. His stance seemed very unorthodox for Rayse, it was like something out of fencing. Maybe he took some sort of lessons? Knife demonstrations are usually very quick and concise... could I make a fencing match out of knives?

Rayse had no time to consider such possibilities as Gabriel lunged forward, aiming for his head. The Contractor could kill the man in self-defense, but he needed to lose this match. If he couldn't counter-attack, he could at least dodge. The easiest way was to pretend he didn't even have a knife. He bent down and prepared himself, and when Gabriel got close, Rayse side-stepped to his right and smacked Gabriel's knife hand to Rayse's left, stepping in and avoiding the urge to stick his foot into Gabriel's lunge to trip him up. After Gabriel's body had passed his, he pivoted to his left and slashed across towards his opponent. There was no strategical advantage to his move, but it would open up opportunities for Gabriel to counter-attack. The quicker this was over, the better. Rayse had, at the very least, proved his speed with his dodge.

[Ladies' Man]

The good thing about a knife fight was that if both participants were skilled, the competition could be over in a very short space of time. The trouble with faking a knife fight for a largely unknown crowd was that he had no idea of what the audience knew about knife-fighting. He didn’t want to arouse suspicion by making the fight too short, which might make them think something was fishy if they knew just a little about knives, but at the same time he didn’t want to give the impression that knife-fighting was the flamboyant and long-winded affair that sword dueling usually ended up being.

The bandit was behind him now after the quick sidestep, and Gabriel let himself relax a little. Even if he ended up being incompetent with a knife, he was at least fast, which was definitely a point in his favor. Gabriel turned with the push and saw over his right shoulder that Valentino was swiping horizontally at his back. Using his momentum to keep himself moving, he threw a leg forward and spun out and to the left, twisting along Valentino’s swinging arm until he was alongside him. With Valentino’s arm extended and out of the way, he drove the knife in his hand towards the bandit’s exposed ribs, following with the forearm of his other arm to push Valentino to the ground. He didn’t know how long the bandit wanted the fight to last, and if he dodged or blocked Gabriel’s stab then the match could go on for longer, but the intended shove gave him the opportunity to let it end quickly with Valentino on the ground and Gabriel on top, shielding the viewers from noticing that the dagger wasn’t actually stuck in his side.

[Rayse Valentino]

Needless to say, all actions are approved.

Rayse could tell that Gabriel was attempting something unorthodox with his reaction. Great, he wants to make it flashy. Rayse wasn't exactly enticed by that, for there was always a possibility that his life was in danger. He preferred for his knife to be dislodged from his loose grip, and wanted to keep his distance from his foe. As Gabriel made his flashy move, the thoughts Rayse had earlier reared their ugly head again. I can't let him even attempt this. With his non-extended hand, Rayse grabbed his foe's stabbing hand by the bicep and stopped it in place with his strength, not able to account for the forearm pushing him into the ground. Except, now he found that his hold of the man's arm was advantageous. He let himself be pushed into the ground by Gabriel, and using his own momentum, he lifted his legs as he fell and kicked Gabriel in the gut with both legs the moment he hit the ground, letting go of him and propelling his adversary forward.

He got up, about to make his next attack, when he noticed something crucial: He wasn't holding his knife! It was lying down on the ground. He must've dropped it when he was kicking Gabriel away.

"Damn it!" He yelled, although he immediately realized that this was what he wanted, and he put left hand on his forehead, "Well, it seems like you have caused me to drop my knife, which makes you the winner..."

It was quite the short duel, but it's impossibly difficult to prolong a knife fight. Honestly, Rayse actually lost control of the duel and acted with his instincts. He thought that perhaps he wasn't cut out to act in situations like this. The townspeople all looked like turkeys in a rainstorm. It was a difficult sight to behold, but Rayse tried his best to ignore it.

"Yes, well... Like I said, I shall now leave your town alone and deal with the boss myself..."

Something seemed off. He couldn't spot that woman that Gabriel wanted so badly to see this fight, maybe she was off finding some weapon to bludgeon Rayse with, since she seemed so confidence of Gabriel's abilities. Although, the thought crept up again that these people somehow knew who Gabriel really was. Rayse wondered if he could make any of these half-wits spell it out for him. He also wondered if any of them could even spell.

[Ladies' Man]

The brazen charge that Gabriel had launched didn’t exactly go as planned. Valentino was shorter than him, but the instant the bandit’s hand clamped around his upper arm he realized that the man was a good bit stronger than him anyway. The sudden vise-like grip caught Gabriel off-guard, but he was already so far into the shove that he was still managing to knock Valentino over when he realized with a flash of horror that his knife-bearing arm was still being held by the bandit, and that if he was pulled down on top of him, their ungraceful descent might result in the accidental impalement of the bandit.

He realized he was wrong about falling on top of Valentino a moment too late—after he had made the decision to drop his dagger in a now unneccessary effort to save the bandit's life. His fingers had loosened on the handle, and the sharp double-footed kick to the stomach only encouraged him further in his knife-dropping endeavor. The pain was immense and entirely unexpected, so sharp and sudden that he doubled over immediately, grabbing his torso and stumbling away from the fallen bandit with a string of muttered curses. This was supposed to be a fake fight! Why the heck was the moron kicking so darn hard?

He wanted to lay down on the ground and breathe shallowly until his stomach stopped throbbing, but he forced himself to keep moving, doubled over and staggering drunkenly around the circle. He saw Valentino rising out of the corner of his eye, but he was still in too much pain to bother with standing up straight. Had boys been holding their punches whenever he’d fought before or did Valentino wear steel-soled boots? He came to the disturbing conclusion that it was most likely the former. Forcing the sons of farmers who worked for his father to attack him probably hadn't been the best way to try to get a realistic idea of what a fight would be like.

Valentino’s curse reached his ears just as he saw that the now standing bandit’s hands were empty. Gabriel’s eyes flickered to the ground and saw with dismay that there were two knives lying docilely in the dusty street. But who had dropped their knife first? Did it matter? Panic flooded his brain. He was supposed to win! If anyone challenged his victory, his chance of impressing Elise with his military prowess was shot!

The worrying thought of the beautiful mayor’s daughter gave him the boost of willpower that he need to force himself to stand upright, and it also gave him the burst of desperation he needed to abandon all the noble codes of ethics and morals that he’d espoused so vehemently growing up. As he straightened his back, he quickly and subtly drew the other dagger on his belt, sliding it from its sheath in a blur and crouching to face Valentino again, this time with a different but identical dagger in hand.

Valentino was talking to the gathered audience, but no one seemed to be listening. Some were showing signs of just the kind of awestruck wonder that he had been hoping for, others were looking at one another as if they weren’t certain that they could believe the saving words of the “defeated” bandit. He scanned the crowd intently, but no one seemed to have noticed that there were two knives on the ground-- yet. For the first time since the fight had begun, Gabriel felt nervous. The whole situation rested on the inobservance of the crowd, and though they were distracted now, who was to say that a glimmer of light off a four-inch metal blade wouldn’t send his whole future spiraling into chaos? And while he was on the subject of his future, where was Elise? Her glorious face was missing from the swathe of boring features that surrounded him. Had she really missed the fight that had been fought just for her?

Gabriel’s head was spinning from the multitude of tracks that his anxious mind was trying to follow. He looked at Valentino, trying to decipher the bandit's expression Had he seen Gabriel’s dagger on the ground? Had he seen Elise? The polite thing to do would be to say something to him. He wondered if it would be too impertinent to go for a flowery show of gratitude; the bandit might think that he was mocking him. But he couldn't just grin, thump his chest, and mutter some guttural cliche about the merits of fraternal competition. Could he go for humbly grateful? Or did he want gratefully humble?

Thinking was too much trouble; it was easier just to talk. Gabriel clamped down on the thoughts running through his head and opened his mouth to speak instead.

“You are a most noble opponent,” Gabriel said in a loud voice to Valentino, bowing slightly while maintaining eye contact. “I thank you for the munificence of the opportunity that you granted me today by allowing me to vie for Tradepost’s continued existence, and I am certain that every person here thanks you with all their heart for the mercy that you have shown today and the great dignity with which you have bestowed your grace.”

[Rayse Valentino]

Gabriel seemed quite affected by his attack. It really wasn't anything rough... was this guy really trained to fight? He seemed so inexperienced, so... Hmm. Rayse began to think that he may have made a mistake picking a fight with this guy. He needed to know for sure who he was. He decided that the mayor was most likely the one with the most brains around here. Gabriel gave some odd speech of gratitude, and Rayse felt like some sort of noble. Noble... The word stung at him. Wasn't he in a similar position in his youth? Rayse felt like he was always living on the streets, although that wasn't really true. Nonetheless, he felt obligated to reply, and only in a manner befitting his true character.

"I don't want to hear it, pretty boy," Rayse quipped, wiping his nose, "This town may be safe, but you are another matter entirely. You better hope we don't cross paths ever again."

With that said, he looked around the crowd, who seemed to shrink as he turned his gaze on them. He had to be intimidating, at least until he was alone with the mayor. He saw him, and walked towards him, putting up his knife along the way and noticing the second knife, but quickly ignoring it when he realized that if the loses the attention of the crowd, they'll catch on to what just happened. It seems that even though he won, the townspeople still didn't have much faith in their savior. As Rayse reached the mayor, the old man was apparently looking around for something.

"Where'd Elise go," he wondered, "She missed it! I wanted to see on the look on her face!"

Rayse started to wonder if there was a black hole of stupidity engulfing this town, and prayed to leave it as soon as possible.

"Ahem," The Contractor cleared his throat, "There's something I want to discuss with you before I go."

"Err-- what??" The mayor shrunk, "But... but the boy won!"

"Not that, something else. Just hear me out, privately, and I'll be outta here. Or do we have to go through this whole thing again?"

"NO! I mean-- No, of-f course not. Come with me. Also, you!" he said, pointed at Gabriel, "Find Elise for me! I'm sure she'll love to hear about your victory!"

The mayor and Rayse walked off to his mansion, leaving the bewildered crowd behind. It seems that Rayse was right about one thing: that girl wasn't here to watch the fight. He stayed on the alert just in case she was behind him ready to stick a knife in his back. In the mansion, Rayse was back in the mayor's office.

"Well?" asked the mayor, "What is it this time?"

"To be honest, I knew about your financial situation."

"What!" The mayor jumped up, "But... but... why?!"

"It's more of a request than a demand. You see, the men I brought with me are in a great deal of debt. They really have nowhere to turn to without money. This might be a bit hard to believe, but they were all once craftsmen of various trades, just like the people in this town. They were forced into mercenary work, which is always taking new people due to the high fatality rate."

"What does this have to do with me?!" The mayor felt like Rayse's lack of intimidation was more intimidating than anything Rayse has done so far.

"I figured, hey, why not subtract the money equation from their lives? You guys can't possibly afford all of the improvements you have planned, and they are men who can do them... and all you have to supply is food and shelter. Hell, consider them your own personal slaves if you want."

"Now you see here!" the mayor piped up, suddenly realizing that not just today he was being threatened, but potentially for the rest of his life, "I'm not about to go harbor a bunch of crazed killers in my town! You lost, so why don't you get on down and get out already?!"

"I can't do that until you accept my very generous offer," Rayse smiled. It looked like a genuine smile, which really creeped the mayor out, "Would you really deny these men a second chance in their lives? They're really quite agreeable if you get to know them. Not to mention, you're quite lucky that someone as generous as I have come here before anyone else. Don't act like you didn't know something like this would happen since you weren't part of any fief and thus had no formal lord. As well as doing various menial jobs, they could also function as guards."

The mayor sighed. This was going nowhere, and he was getting uncomfortably disturbed by Rayse's presence in the room.

"Fine! Fine! I swear, the things I put up with! Why didn't I retire when I had the chance?! Stupid, stupid!"

"Glad to hear it," Rayse assured him, but decided to venture into his mischievous topic, "And by the way, about that Gabriel kid, how is his father recently? I heard he's not doing too well, and I haven't seen him in a while. Mr... ?"

"Mr. Talisman? Oh, oh, I'm sorry, but he's no longer with us... quite a tragedy, you understand."

The mayor replied with such casualness that he didn't realize what he had done. Rayse tried as hard as he could to hold back his insidious grin of delight. He had taken a stab at the dark over Gabriel's father's condition, and it seemed like he hit the nail on the head.

The mayor started to have the uneasy feeling that he just said something he shouldn't have. After all... how did this thug know Gabriel and his family in the first place? He lured the mayor so easily into that conversation, as if he was waiting for him to break down and accept his offer before asking about Gabriel, when he was the weakest mentally.

Rayse had no time to celebrate his victory, as he heard some sort of commotion outside. He decided to pause his conversation with the mayor and they both walked outside.

[Ladies' Man]

His mouth was still dry with unease, but Gabriel’s mood was lifted by Valentino’s reply to his exuberant thanks. Sure, the “pretty boy” comment had probably been excessively insulting, but what did bandits know about subtlety? There was definite threat in his words, and though that was a bit disturbing in itself, the response was perfect for winning him the sympathy and respect of the crowd. He’d won, but he’d still manage to make himself a martyr for them. Elise would have to fall for him now!

Gbariel stiffened when Valentino ducked to pick his own dagger out of the dust, but the bandit made no sign of seeing the other knife and approached the mayor without acknowledging Gabriel’s error. Several of the men of the council approached him with outstretched hands and grateful grins, and Gabriel shook hands with as much warmth as he could fake while sheathing his dagger. The clearing that had been made for the fight was gradually filling with meandering townspeople who were eager to turn the fighting ring back into the simple dusty street that it was supposed to be. He still had to get his dagger before some barefoot orphan tripped on it, but at least it wasn’t lying out as obviously as a naked woman in town square anymore.

Gabriel’s thoughts froze as the importance of a casual observation he’d made suddenly hit him like a well-aimed kick—Valentino was approaching the mayor?

He pushed past the appreciative men and headed for Valentino’s back, faking a trip as he went that let him swoop low and pick up his knife, which he sheathed before he was again fully upright. He affected an abashed smile at the worried coos of the surrounding women who had seen the stumble, but then the mayor’s gaze lifted from Valentino’s face and met his eyes over the bandit’s shoulders to issue an order that was almost more painful than the kick to the gut had been.

Find Elise? Find Elise? That meant . . . Gabriel’s heart sank as the words confirmed his worst fear. She hadn’t seen the fight. She’d slipped away after their intimate moment in the tavern and hadn’t watched a single moment of the battle that had been waged in her honor. She, the prize, had missed the whole competition. His Helen of Troy had missed the launching of her thousand ships!

So anguished was Gabriel at the verification of Elise’s absence that he only watched with paralyzed indifference as the mayor and the bandit set off together, the mayor looking none too happy with having to again consort with the conniving thief. Find Elise for me, the old man had said. Was he mocking his town’s savior? There was no way she would "love to hear about his victory." The last thing a girl like Elise would want was a man who touted his own skill, who sat around recounting stories of his glory days and basking in his own proficiency. What he had needed was for her to see him fight and win so that he would never have to open his mouth about himself in front of her. She would be the one spouting his praise, letting him only shrug in bashful modestly, a noble testament to the adage that actions speak louder than words.

But he would find her. He at least wanted to be there when she found out the good news that he'd saved them. Gabriel could hear people around him talking and celebrating in voices overly loud from relief but tinged with a trace of uncertain nervousness that would certainly linger until every bandit had left the town for good. He touched the daggers at his sides to reassure himself of their presence and then pushed his way through the crowd, heading for the last place that he had seen his beloved green-eyed beauty.

The tavern was still as the grave when he stepped inside, and no one had followed him, so he was completely alone in the dimly light room. He walked gingerly, not liking the ominous way the boards creaked under his feet. Where could she have gone? Had she hid from fear? That seemed highly unlikely. It was more plausible to think that she’d charged off to raise a peasant army of untrained, pitchfork-bearing kamikazes to fight the bandits.

“Elise?” His voice came out in a hoarse whisper, but a reply came just a few seconds later in the form of a wine bottle that flew through the air to shatter loudly against the wall behind him less than a foot away from the side of his head.

Gabriel yelped and ducked, throwing himself behind a table just as another bottle smashed against the door that he had just been standing in front of. He peered over the edge of the chair that he was crouched behind and saw a tall figure standing at the bar with a bottle of wine held by the neck in one hand and two more waiting in the other. Where had he come from?

“Come on out, scumbag!” The skinny figure screeched, hefting the bottle. “You wanna mess with Tradepost? Mess with me!”

Gabriel stayed down, stunned by the transformation of the strange little man who was now trying to peer over the edge of Gabriel’s pathetic defense, no doubt planning to start catapulting the bottles at him next.

“I said, come out! You’re sure brave ganging up to kidnap women; let’s see how you do against someone who’s armed, eh? Face me like a man, you pockmarked balls-for-brains!”

Where was this boy’s father? Gabriel resisted the urge to stand up to deliver his lambaste and instead just shouted his diatribe from behind the chair. “Who taught you how to greet guests, you whelp? I didn’t just risk my life for this pathetic little town just to get killed by some pimply over-hormoned punk with access to heavy bottles! If you get so much as a drop of wine on me, I swear I’ll—”

Gabriel’s jaw snapped shut as the boy’s words registered in his brain. He stood up instantly and moved with uncanny speed to the bar, where he slammed his fists down on the counter and glowered at the red-headed boy behind it.

“What did you just say?” He demanded urgently.

The boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously, still tightly gripping the wine bottle as if still considering trying to get in a good swing. “I . . . I called you a pockmarked balls-for—”

“Before that,” Gabriel snapped. “About kidnapping.”

The boy’s face went dark. “Those scumbags! They waited until everybody had left and then took her out back . . . I don’t know where they were going, but—”

“How did you see it?”

“My da told me to guard the bar while he was gone, and he went outside to watch the fight so I took him to mean that I was to stay here and defend it,” the boy answered, his words tumbling out of his mouth like rabbits out of a smoking hole. “I hid behind the ale when the two big guys came in, and then when everybody went outside I heard them talking about taking her, and there was scuffling and yelling and then they took her out through the back door.”

“Her? Who did they take?” Gabriel voice cracked as he spoke, but he was past the point of caring if he sounded like the pubescent boy before him. He knew the answer to his question, but his desperate brain wouldn’t let him leave without absolute certainty. Maybe the bandits had kidnapped the boy’s mother; that would explain why the youth was so upset.

The boy gave him a look that told him that his question was as moronic and unneccessary as he'd feared. “Who else? They kidnapped Elise!”

[Rayse Valentino]

Rayse's plan was fairly simple. Make up some sad sap story about the mercenaries, and be relentless in convincing the mayor to believe it. After that great hurdle was surpassed, a simple question about Gabriel-- Rayse's real concern, would seem like nothing to the old man. His question about Gabriel's father was based upon how he'd seen Gabriel act so far. He was definitely some sort of noble, Rayse could feel it due to his own experiences with them, but for some reason he was traveling around and not safely nestled in his estate. He assumed that Gabriel must've had some sort of reason to leave and decide to travel around, and what better reason than the sudden lack of authority granted by a dead parent? It was all hypothetical, and Rayse didn't directly accuse Gabriel's father of being dead-- simply ill, but it seems to have worked out in the end. Nonetheless, The Contractor's job here was done, and it was time to collect his pay from that noble brat and get out of here.

Before that, the screams worried him. Two possibilities came to his mind: One or more of the townspeople has gotten uppity (especially Elise) or his mercenaries have done something stupid. When he ran outside, his eyes widened as he saw a carriage being pulled by two horses make its way recklessly down the road past him, with Dereck at the head and a tied-up Elise screaming and scrambling to get out of the ropes binding her while Eric was trying to shut her up. Rayse never imagined that he would be right on both counts. Rayse was dumbstruck; he couldn't find any words to yell at them. The confusion slowly dissipated, and was replaced by pure, seething rage.

He ran towards the nearest frightened citizen and demanded, "Where is the stable?! I need a horse, and I need it now!"

[Ladies' Man]

The redhead’s proclamation sent Gabriel into a daze, rendering him too shocked even to react. He stared numbly at the flushed boy, not really seeing the youth’s glinting eyes and murderous scowl. Was he in love with Elise, too? Of course he was. Every male in town had probably dreamt of getting lucky enough to find a woman like her. Who else would the bandits have snatched away as a consolation prize? It was his own stupid fault that she had been taken. He had known her worth, had spotted her value at first sight, and yet he’d done nothing to protect her. He shouldn’t have let her out of his sight!

Gabriel didn’t move when the boy in front of him suddenly looked over his shoulder and drew back his bottle-toting arm.

“What the devil are you doing?” The harsh bellow broke Gabriel’s trance-like state and he blinked and turned to see a burly figure standing in the now open doorway, hands on his hips as he surveyed the glass and wine that littered the floor and walls of the tavern. Gabriel only vaguely remembered his face from the council meeting, but he only had to take a glimpse of the suddenly pale face of the redhead to know exactly who he was.

“Let me explain, Da,” the boy squeaked, launching into an incomprehensible babble, his words tripping over themselves like rats escaping a doomed vessel.

The barkeep’s face went red with barely-suppressed rage over the course of his son’s speech, and Gabriel surprised himself by opening his mouth to come to the boy’s defense when a piercing scream tore into the tavern, stopping the boy mid-sentence and turning every head towards the open doorway. Gabriel’s heart jumped into his throat and he ran for the door as a second shriek echoed through the air. He knew that voice.

He heard the pounding of hooves and reached the door just as a carriage came hurtling past the inn. There was a burly man in the driver’s seat and another in the back who was struggling to hold down the wingless angel who was struggling against the ropes that bound her holy flesh.

Elise!

The carriage had swept past him before he’d even had time to voice her name, tearing down the main road as if it were on the homestretch of a racing course. The townspeople who had lingered after the fight were picking themselves off the sides of the road from where they’d thrown themselves to avoid the charging carriage, gasping indignantly and muttering urgently as the news of the kidnapping of their mayor’s green-eyed daughter spread like an airborne plague.

Gabriel stared after the carriage, too outraged to know how to respond. That scumbag Valentino had tricked him! The bandit had known that Elise was the whole point of saving the town in the first place; he’d surely been aware that Gabriel was only participating in the nasty affair because of her! Valentino was supposed to get the gold, and he was supposed to have the girl. But the bandit had broken his end of the bargain! Gabriel wanted to sit down on the ground and slam his own head against a wall. How could he have been so stupid as to trust a criminal? Of course it had been stupid to trust a thief to hold up his end of the deal. He’d probably been planning to kidnap Elise as soon as he’d laid eyes on her and just used Gabriel’s negotiating scheme as a way to make a little cash on the side. Heck, the whole heist could have been done just to make an opportunity to spirit the beauty away. Gabriel had launched negotiations with the bandit by declaring his love for her, not even considering that the rogue might be harboring similar feelings for the spirited woman. What if Valentino had initially been planning to ransom the town for Elise?

Gabriel let out a soft groan. His own stupidity had cost him his gold, and now it had cost him Elise. Only . . . Gabriel froze. He still had his gold, and Valentino hadn’t been in the Elise-napping carriage. That could mean that the bandit had snuck away with the rest of his gang, but it could also mean that the bandit was planning to stick around for his money! Either way, Gabriel still had a chance. How many carriages could there be in a town like Tradepost? With any luck, Valentino would still be on foot.

Filled with resolve, Gabriel dashed back into the tavern and retrieved his backpack from beneath the table that he had been sitting at before the council meeting. The innkeeper and his son were still going at it, though the conversation had now moved to who was going to be allowed to go after Elise. The redhead seemed to be losing.

Gabriel slung his backpack over his shoulder and stepped out of the tavern. Which way to go? He didn’t want to have to run around town hoping to find a trace of Valentino’s whereabouts, but he couldn’t hope to catch the carriage on foot. Was it wiser to go after Elise or Valentino? He saw the mayor standing in front of his house, leaning against the fence and looking positively sick as he gaped in the direction that his daughter had disappeared. But the mayor was alone. How long ago had Valentino left him? Gabriel set off across the street to find out.

[Rayse Valentino]

Running down the street in the opposite direction of the carriage, Rayse knew that the stable was definitely in this direction. All along the path, the people avoided him like he was an unstoppable train that carried some sort of airborne plague. It mattered little to Rayse what they thought, but there was someone's opinion he needed: Gabriel's. What would he think if he saw that scene a few moments ago? As a businessman and a person of trust, Rayse's reputation was on the line. After all, having some noble connections could be beneficial. Especially with someone who had no idea how rich he really was. Although, Rayse had never heard of the Talisman Fief or whatever it was called.

He reached the stable and caught someone who appeared to tend to the horses (for he smelled quite strongly of them) before he could get away from The Contractor.

He lifted the small man into the air, "Which one of these is the fastest?! Tell me-- Now!"

Finding himself speechless, the horse tender pointed to one of them, and Rayse dropped the man. He ran to the horse and examined it for a few moments. He certainly had horseback riding in the army, but horses were never fond of him. Nonetheless, it was already saddled and ready to go so he mounted the beast and took off after pulling his knife out and fastening it to his side. He might need it for this. It shouldn't take too long for a single horse to catch up to a carriage.

Charging down the road after the carriage, he saw Gabriel running towards him; probably towards the stables. He was going to try to avoid him, but he seemed to be running directly at The Contractor. Rayse didn't notice that there was a rope unfastened from the loose saddle that was dangling several feet behind the horse.

* * * *

"Big Eric, I want you to promise me something!" yelled Dereck as he whipped the horses in front of him, "Promise me you won't listen to whatever bullshit the boss feeds you, alright?! He's gonna try to play one of them-- those-- er, mind tricks on us! You understand?"

"Yeah!" replied Eric enthusiastically, although his expression was anything but jovial as he tried to fruitlessly restrain Elise, "Will ya quit moving around? You're only making this harder on yerself!"

[Ladies' Man]

Crossing the street just wasn’t the frolicsome jaunt that it had always been during Gabriel’s childhood. He was halfway to the mayor when a snorting horse came plunging up the road at him, its mad gallop spurred on by the dark-haired man who sat on its back. Gabriel stopped walking as the mount approached, slightly shocked to recognize the crazed rider as Rayse Valentino, the very man he’d been hoping to find. What luck! The only trouble was that the bandit was heading very rapidly after the carriage and Gabriel wouldn’t have a hope of catching up with them on foot.

Thinking time ran out before he was ready. The horse thundered past him, nearly taking off his nose as he stumbled out of the charger’s path. In the split second that the horse was in front of him and close enough to really smell, Gabriel noticed that Valentino’s saddle was something of a cheap piece of crap. He wasn't a pundit when it came to horse-related gear, but growing up on what amounted to a really big farm had left him with a neophyte's eye for leather that deserved to have been retired decades ago. It was the kind of saddle one used on a draft horse if you were short on seats and needed someone to ride the poor animal that also had to pull the wagon. It was lighter than a normal saddle but the straps were stronger, and hanging off the side of one of these devices was usually a long braided rope that could be used to help secure the wagon to the saddle.

Gabriel’s eyes dropped to the ground by the horse’s feet, and not a moment later the rest of him followed, his body slamming to the dirt as his hands seized the rope hanging off the horse’s side and held on for all he was worth.

Given that he did weigh more than the average horseback stowaway—like a fly, for instance—the horse undoubtedly felt the sudden addition of several extra pounds to its burden. Being a working horse and much accustomed to being thoughtlessly forced to carry far more than an animal of its caliber ought to, the animal kept running, swerving only in surprise before it laboriously resumed its frenetic course.

Gabriel wasn’t nearly as nonchalant. In the first few seconds of being dragged across the ground, the only concern that popped into his mind was that his clothes would be absolutely filthy by the time the ordeal was over. A few seconds and several yards of unpaved road later, his priorities had shifted. He was wondering now whether or not rub burns left scars and if it was possible to lose necessary organs to friction. Sacks of potatoes made being towed across the ground look easy, but he was quickly discovering that the dragging process was far from painless.

A particularly large rock snagged on his hip and Gabriel instinctively bounced over, catching a glimpse of astounded villagers on the side of the road who were staring disapprovingly at the spectacle as if it were something a stupid boy had wanted to do for fun. He grimaced and tightened his grip on the rope, legs flailing as he tried to roll over again and failed. The small remainder of his rapidly depleting pride made him want to clench his jaw and Take It Like a Man, to climb up the rope hand over hand until he could pull himself into the saddle behind the bandit and knock his lights out and charge after Elise to rescue her single-handedly, but his fingers were wrapped so tightly around the rope that even the thought of detaching a hand made him cringe. He wasn't going to climb, he wasn't going to let go. If Valentino knew he was there, what would stop the rogue from dropping a knife onto his unprotected belly? A protruding rock scraped against the back of his head and dug its cheerful way down his spine, helping him make his decision.

“Valentino!” He barely heard himself over the horse’s dangerously close hooves. “Stop the horse!”

It was better to be a live coward than a dead hero.

[Rayse Valentino]

The horse got excited for whatever reason and Rayse nearly lost control of it, but it got over whatever shocked it very quickly and kept on running, albeit differently. Rayse attributed this action to his terrible luck with horses, and ignored it. Right as he left the town and got on a rougher road, Rayse started hearing a sound behind him like he was dragging something.

"What the hell?"

As he heard the plea from Gabriel below, Rayse was getting sick of how right he was all the time. He pulled on the reins and the horse's front hooves raised into the air, followed by a loud neighing.

The Contractor got off the horse and was about to reach for his knife, which was now in his left pocket, but he stopped when he saw the pitiful condition Gabriel was in. He really had no time to fight with this guy again. Rather than waiting a single moment for Gabriel to get up, Rayse ran over and grabbed the man and threw him over the horse like a sack of potatoes. Jumping on the horse, he sped off again after the carriage, knowing that time was of the essence.

"Judging by your... determination, I can only guess that you saw the same scene that I did," commented Rayse, thinking that their goals were similar, "And let me assure you that I didn't plan it. When we get up to that carriage, I give you full permission to do what you want to those idiots who took her."

He didn't feel like telling him about his honor as a businessman, or anything of that sort. He hoped that Gabriel would understand that this wasn't some sort of clever plan with his back exposed to the man like this. The road would split into two directions not too far from here, and he felt like he would easily lose them at that point. There were even some bridges they could destroy which would also impede the chase.

[Ladies' Man]

Fate was out to destroy his dignity, of that Gabriel was certain. The horse’s pounding gait stopped suddenly and he heard the bandit dismount. Was he coming to kill him? The option was far too plausible for comfort, but he was having trouble forcing his body to respond to the perceived danger. He’d just about managed to get his fingers to loosen their grip on the rope when he was hauled up and slammed onto the horse’s back, his stomach landing squarely on the cantle of the cheap- but hard- saddle. He was still fighting for breath when Valentino returned to the seatin front of him and spurred the horse again into breakneck pursuit.

Gabriel frantically grappled for purchase and snagged his fingers on one of the straps hanging down the side of the saddle, anchoring himself to the animal before he slid off the back. He tried to ignore the pain of bouncing around on the galloping horse’s ass for long enough to figure out what was going on. Why hadn't the bandit tried to kill him? He doubted that Valentino was claiming him as a prize in lieu of the gold, but it didn’t make sense to kidnap him as well as Elise since he certainly didn’t have any rich suitors back in Tradepost who’d bargain for his safe return. And if he’d been planning to snatch the girl and run in the first place, why would he bring Gabriel along for the ride? The only plausible explanation was that Valentino had been just as surprised by the sudden kidnapping as everyone else, meaning that the brutes who now had his woman in their carriage were acting under their own authority!

The fragments of Valentino’s speech that reached his ears over the clattering of his own teeth validated his suspicion. Dismissing the automatic assumption that the rogue was lying, which Gabriel’s current humiliating position really didn’t endorse, he was left with the conclusion that the two of them were, as unlikely as it seemed, working towards the same goal. They were after the carriage for different reasons, he hoped, but for the first time all day somebody else was on his side, and the realization brought such a glow to his spirit that Gabriel almost found himself ignoring the ignominy of the traveling arrangements.

Lifting his head to peer past Valentino’s leg to the road ahead, Gabriel tried to find his bearings in the nearly landmark-less farmland around them. Of course, he’d gone the back way sneaking into town and hadn’t been on this road since the last time he’d come to Tradepost with his father, so he really had no idea of what he would be able to estimate distance by anyway. But there was that fork in the road where the bandits had first tried to pull the wool over his eyes . . . how far ahead had the kidnappers gone with Elise?

“There’s a fork in the road,” he shouted at the back of Valentino’s head, his voice riding an undulating scale as his lungs bounced in his ribs. “Can’t we go any faster?”

The obvious solution to that made him wince and tighten his grip on the strap. If Valentino tried to push him off, he’d take the horse down with him before letting the bandit go after Elise on his own. She’d missed the fight, but there was no way she’d be able to spurn him if he was the one who rescued her from mutineering kidnappers.

“Is that . . . ?” Gabriel squinted and tried to focus on the road ahead of them despite the jostling of his skull. Was that a cloud of dust in the road ahead of them? “I think we’re gaining on them!”

[Rayse Valentino]

Damn it, I shouldn't have picked this idiot up. Now we'll never catch up to them! Rayse already regretted picking Gabriel up, but it was already too late. Although, this regret quickly faded when he found that he did catch up to the carriage. They had not yet taken the fork in the road, not that it mattered at this point since Rayse would see which turn they took anyway. Rayse tried his hardest to get the horse to go after, but it was already at top speed and by the look of it, not able to keep it up much longer.

"Listen, I'm gonna get alongside the carriage. I want you to jump onto it and knock out the guy at the reins, alright? I want that thing stopped."

Rayse wasn't sure how capable his accomplice was, but if Gabriel failed then at least he would be out of the way for the rest of this. At the very least, he could provide a good distraction. Far ahead of both him and the speeding carriage, a large white post separated the fork in the road, with two signs at varying heights detailed where each path lead. Rayse got closer and closer to the carriage, and Eric noticed him.

"Boss! What are you doing out here?!" Eric yelled out, but Rayse couldn't hear him.

"Stop, you idiots!" Rayse yelled, aware that Eric was looking squarely at him now.

To no avail, however. He continued to gain on them and he was almost alongside the carriage. Now's your chance to be a real hero, pretty boy.

[Ladies' Man]

Gabriel was becoming more and more impressed with the stamina of the suffering beast beneath him as the carriage grew larger and larger with every pounding hoofbeat. The carriage was so close that Gabriel could taste the dust kicked up by its churning wheels and had to squint to keep the dirt from ruining his eyes. He could see both men, one at the reins and the other struggling in the backseat to hold down the angel that struggled against his hold. The brigand standing over Elise was casting curious and wary glances at the approaching horse and riders, but Gabriel saw the hem of Elise’s white dress fling up into the air as her leg swung out to kick her captor in the jaw and the big man wisely returned his attention to holding her down.

Jump onto it? Gabriel heard Valentino’s orders, but in his current position he wasn’t sure that he was even capable of obeying. He’d been to the circus once and had seen the incredible acrobatics women in leotards could pull on the backs of trotting stallions, but that didn’t quite translate into knowing how to pull off any stunts firsthand. He was stuck stomach-down on a horse’s rump . . .

The wheezing mount was now neck-and-wheel with the carriage on its right, so close that Gabriel could hear the yelp-punctuated snarling that was being emitted by the fearsomely gorgeous beast in the backseat over the grinding of the wheels and the pounding of the horses' feet. Elise was fighting for her own freedom! The realization made Gabriel feel ashamed of himself. A woman of her size and rearing didn't have a chance against these two trained brutes, but if she was still fighting when she didn’t have a chance of overpowering her captors, who was he to hem and haw about performing aerial stunts to save her life? Love flowed like a cup of strong wine down Gabriel’s throat. He would do anything for her.

The horse’s breathing was becoming almost frighteningly labored as it raced energetically down the road, and Gabriel knew he had to act quickly before the animal decided to just pass the carriage altogether. Tightening his grip on the saddle strap, Gabriel pulled himself forward until he was leaning out as far as he could without falling completely off. He reached out with his free hand across the narrow gap that separated the horse and the carriage and grabbed the edge of the seating compartment, quickly following with his other hand and pulling his body along after, his legs sliding off the back of the horse and skidding along the ground for the few seconds it took Gabriel to hook his elbows over the side and drag his feet up to the sideboard.

“Hey, what are you doing? Get off!” Elise’s captor glared up at him indignantly, but his hands were occupied with pinning her down, and his lack of attention earned him a kick to the stomach that helped him return his attention to the more immediately dangerous captive. Gabriel took advantage of the man’s occupation and sidled along the sideboard until he was directly behind the front wheel, separated from the driver by only a half-foot divider of painted wood. How long did he have before the one in the back abandoned Elise to come get him?

Gabriel took a deep breath of dust-laced air and stifled a cough as he launched himself at the driver, kicking at the side to propel himself at the thief’s burly shoulders. The tackle was badly conceived and was even worse in execution, but he did manage to hit the outlaw’s broad back. Unfortunately, he hit it with his face. Gabriel scrambled for balance on the partition as quickly as he could, but the big bandit now knew he was there and threw a backhanded wallop towards his face. It wasn’t exactly a roomy seat, and with the driver still seated and Gabriel halfway off the divider, he didn’t have much of an option for dodging. He swung one arm to meet the incoming hand in a feeble block and recoiled with a yell when the collision of forearms made a crack that sent a painful jolt up his arm. He was still on the rebound when the driver turned further in his seat to come at him again, this time with a driving fist that slammed into Gabriel’s mouth, propelling him off the partition and into the mayhem of the backseat.

[Rayse Valentino]

The small patch of trees at either side of the road whizzed by like a blur. Rayse had just caught up with the carriage when his horse's momentum started to decline. He looked to his right and saw Dereck, still fully armored and looking into the back seat. The Mercenary's helmet was on the floor and he wasn't watching the road. Eric's helmet was also off and put away. Slavery would be too good for you, wouldn't it Dereck? Rayse suddenly found himself being outran by the carriage. The horse was giving way! So it was decided: He needed to get on that thing since Gabriel failed to stop it.

"Come on, hold out just a little longer..." Rayse said to the horse, hoping somewhere in the back of his mind that it understood him.

He steadily pulled his legs up from the stirrups and balanced himself on top of the horse, just barely keeping his balance. While he lamented this stunt, he didn't quite believe that Gabriel could do this himself. Well, maybe he wanted to punish the mercenaries himself after all. Whatever the reason, he jumped and crashed through the door, knocking Dereck off the reins and sending splintered wood at him. After a moment bracing himself, Dereck wiped the wood off his arm and stood up, meeting Rayse face to face. The horse had slowed to a complete stop; exhausted.

"What the fuck are you doing, Dereck?!" Rayse fumed, his knife already out and held in front pointing upright to indicate he was threatening the mercenary.

Dereck finally developed a spine and replied, "F-Fuck you, Boss! You brought us all the way out here with the promise of our debts being paid, and we ended up with nothing! I'm not stupid, there's no way you would've done what you did in there if you weren't plannin' somethin'! That place was dirt poor!"

Rayse had just about enough of this. Who was it that suggested Tradepost in the first place? That's right, DERECK! Now he had the nerve to blame... Okay, no more talking. Rayse went in to stab Dereck in the throat but the man charged at The Contractor, yelling and screaming, knocking them both backwards with Rayse landing a quarter of the way off the speeding carriage with the mercenary on top of him. His knife had fallen to the floor of the carriage. Rayse honestly didn't think the man had it in him. Dereck's gloved hands grabbed hold of Rayse's neck, pushing him down and trying to force him off the carriage. The Contractor's own hands were on Dereck's, trying to reverse the action.

"You're not so tough!" Dereck exclaimed, as if he needed to reassure himself of this fact rather than demean Rayse.

Rayse, in what appeared to Dereck as an act of giving up, let go of the hands around his throat and instead latched onto ropes hanging at both sides of him. The mercenary had a sadistic grin plastered all over his place, and in his presumptuous victory he failed to notice Rayse's body tensing considerably. There was one thing Dereck wasn't doing right now: holding down Rayse's legs. The Contractor lifted his legs up, and pulled as hard as he could on the ropes while he kicked directly upwards, with his body tilting backwards. The next thing Dereck knew, he was flying off the damaged side of the carriage and into the woods. Rayse used the ropes to drag himself up, noting that it wasn't the first time he did that stupid move today. However, before he could revel in his victory and check on what was happening in the back, he noticed something in front of him...

"Shit."

The tall, white post that separated the two roads was seconds away from colliding with the horses. Rayse grabbed the reins as quick as he could, and pulled. The horses veered sharply to the left, tilting the carriage almost halfway and rapidly decelerating it. He wasn't going to make it! He jumped off the carriage and found himself rolling around in the grass behind the white post while the right side of the carriage smashed into the pole, destroying most of the front seat while sending the back box of it spinning behind the pole, on the other side of it where Rayse was. Aside from a few bruises, he was fine, but he immediately turned his attention to the wreckage in front of him.

[Ladies' Man]

Gabriel forgot the pain in his forearm in order to better focus on the misery that was blossoming on his face. How could a protrusion as forgettable as a nose suddenly decide to emulate the susceptibility to agonizing sucker blows of a far more sensitive organ? He managed to contain his vocal outburst to a single yell of pain, but as he flew back into the solid and unyielding mass of the bandit he heard a soprano screech and a bass bellow harmonize with his shout into a pain-filled chorus of surprise. He slammed hard into Elise’s captor, knocking the large fellow onto the seat of the carriage, and then fell gracelessly across Elise's upturned belly, his head smacking against the seat on his way down.

“Get off me!”

She really was quite shrill up close. The indignation in the lady’s heavenly voice made Gabriel scramble all the faster for a means of rising, but the box was certainly not meant to be laid in long-ways, and his legs were resting uncomfortably against the wall of the partition in front of him. Gabriel didn’t even have time to appreciate his proximity to the angel of his existence, because the big man behind him was quicker at getting his balance than he was and was already starting to kick at Gabriel, muttering angrily as he swung his armor-encased leg in the limited space of the open-topped but close-sided carriage.

Gabriel tried to use his non-throbbing arm to block the kicks, but his wrist only withstood a few blows before the pain made him literally roll over, grasping at his now dually aching forearms. Elise was lying parallel to the seat, her hands tied in front of her and a furious glower on her face as she squirmed vigorously in a noble attempt to escape Gabriel’s weight. He had rolled towards her head and was facing her again for the first time in far too long, his elbow digging into her stomach as he tried to evade the thief's blows, but the man’s toes kept jabbing hard against his spine and he couldn’t think of anything brave or romantic to say.

“Do something, you idiot,” Elise roared, her cat-green eyes flashing. Gabriel’s mind raced to appease, and a loud crash of wood from the driver’s seat in front of them distracted his personal kicker long enough for Gabriel to come up with a plan. The smash was most likely Valentino, but even he probably couldn’t take care of two attackers at once, so it fell to Gabriel to make sure that this bandit stayed occupied in the backseat. His new friend was already shakily trying to climb over Elise's flailing legs to get to the action in front, but Gabriel knew that he had to stop him.

Trying to ignore the dripping blood from his nose that was already staining his shirt, Gabriel rolled down Elise until he hit the tottering bandit, making the man shout as he lost his balance and toppled down onto the other two. Now there were far too many people in so narrow a space, and the thief’s armor and hefty frame made him take up more than his fair share of the limited room. Elise let out a wheezy gasp as the large man splattered, and even Gabriel sandwiched between the two was feeling sorry for himself. But he wasn’t done yet.

Using his elbow to keep the bandit’s knees out of his face, Gabriel twisted his torso and reached into the collar of his own coat, sliding his hand down his shoulder blade until his fingers reached the Virtue hidden beneath his shirt. The thief on top of him unexpectedly started screaming and thrashing madly, and Gabriel glanced over to see that Elise had managed to get the man’s fingers between her teeth and was voraciously chomping down on his digits. Gabriel almost smiled. Where on earth could one find a girl as fine as she?

He had to restrain his eagerness to see the dagger as he pulled her carefully out of his clothes. He didn't have the heart to kill the man, but one cut from Grace was all that it would take to ensure that rising to help his fellow criminal was not a viable course of action. Making certain not to cut himself with the dagger on her way out, he placed Grace’s gleaming blade against the bandit’s leg and drew a long, quick cut along the length of his thigh. The man’s kicking worked against him, driving the dagger deeper than Gabriel had intended. His screaming turned into keening shrieks, and his knee caught Gabriel across the jaw as his flailing increased in energy.

“Get the heck off me!” Elise was not one to let a measly bandit outvoice her. She had apparently lost his fingers or else bitten them off enturely, and she was now bucking and twisting wildly, a futile effort since Gabriel couldn’t move until the thief did and he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon. Grace’s effects were already working on the bandit, and when he tried to push off the floor of the carriage to leverage himself into a more defendable position he only managed to hold up his shoulders for a second before he fell over sideways, moving like a drunk in a puddle of molasses.

“Don’t worry, Elise,” Gabriel called to her confidently as he returned Grace to her sheath and started to worm his way free of the bandit’s weight. “Everything’s under control now!” Valentino would definitely have been able to handle the other bandit, and it would then be a simple matter of stopping the carriage before he came back to help them. He could see the man’s head over the partition. Any minute now . . .

Gabriel grew a lot better acquainted with the side of the carriage as it tilted hard and tossed its occupants sideways. He heard someone’s head smack against the wood of the door and heard the bandit’s armor clanging around as the man was knocked off his Gabriel-high perch, his sudden clumsiness not helping him to maintain his hold. He saw his dark-haired partner suddenly disappear from the front of the carriage in what seemed a very decisive leap, and a moment later the crashing of nearby wood brought him to the conclusion that he was probably about to die.

Like dice in a cup the three rattled around on the floor of the carriage until it yielded to the reality of the pole, their shouts reaching a frenzied crescendo when the force of the impact sent the bandit flying out of the box to land in a still pile a good three meters away. Gabriel was thrown out after him and slammed facedown into the unforgiving earth with less severity, the wind knocked completely out of him.

Elise's suffering at the bottom of the stack payed off; she was barely moved thanks to the men on top of her who kindly stolen her inertia. The carriage came to lie in a dismal heap on its side, and though she was pitched out onto the ground when it toppled, she immediately stood up, staggering only a little without the use of her hands to steady herself. Her white dress was now a dingy brown from the dirt of the road and her golden hair was a snarled mess, but she still straightened her spine like a queen as she looked around. Her eyes landed on Valentino and her lip curled in an angry sneer. Her hands being literally tied, however, she merely bared her teeth at him before stepping across the wood fragment-littered grass to the still body of her captor. She bent down to peer at his face and, once satisfied that he was still alive, began to wail on his side, her dust-stained dress like a waving banner as it moved in tune with her swinging legs.

Gabriel watched her out of the corner of his open eye with a dreamy smile that was small enough not to stretch the skin around his aching nose, too winded even to move his head enough to get a better view. There wasn’t a part of his body that didn’t hurt, but seeing his beautiful wildcat alive and, well, kicking made all the suffering worthwhile.

[Rayse Valentino]

Rayse felt like a migraine was coming on as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. He had half-expected someone like Gabriel to jump off the carriage at the last second heroically with damsel in hand, but this was something else. Pretty boy appeared to be immobile, Eric was passed out, and the oh so lovely, gentle, fragile maiden was kicking Eric so hard it was like she expected candy to burst out any time now. Rayse got up, brushed as much of the grass stains off him as he could, and walked over to where Eric was being beaten.

"Move," he said in a dejected voice, knocking Elise aside like an insect.

He didn't even look at her while he did that. That's how little he cared about everything, at this point. Plus, he doubted that she would listen to him anyway. He reached down and pulled Eric up with all his strength. His arms were shaking as he held the big man up to his own face, the mercenary's feet dragging on the ground. Rayse brought his face over to Eric's, and took a deep breath.

"WAKE UP!" He screamed into his face, causing the unconscious Eric to spring to life and move around so much that Rayse lost his grip and dropped him.

The Contractor shook his hands. His palms were now red and sore from holding his mercenary up.

Eric stood up, seemingly oblivious to everything that happened, "B, Boss?! Where's Dereck?!"

Rayse could only scrunch his face up, narrow his eyes, and clench his teeth as he said, "What?!"

Before Eric knew it, he found himself on the ground again, with a huge fist mark on his left cheek.

He put his hand to his cheek, complaining, "What was that for?! I was only followin' orders!"

Rayse planted his foot into Eric's armored bosom, "Yeah, not my orders, you imbecile! You think you're going to get out of this that easily?!"

"Ow! Ow! Hey! Stop it! Stop it, I said!" Eric bellowed, finally grabbing Rayse's foot and throwing it- and Rayse- backwards.

He got up and decided to think for himself for once, "Listen to me, this time! Dereck was right! I'm tired of followin' everythin' you say! I'm bigger than you, how about you do what I say?!"

Rayse couldn't believe he was hearing this. Okay, that's it, I'm done with you.

"You better start running, Big Eric, because I'm about to put you out of your misery."

Eric wasn't going to take this abuse anymore, "What am I, some sorta dog that needs to be put down?! I'm tired of you!"

Eric reached pulled out one of his many swords at his side from its sheath and charged at Rayse with an obvious limp. The Contractor decided to exploit this, and quickly stepped forward and ducked as Eric was about to strike down at Rayse, putting his hands on the ground and sweeping his leg under Eric's feet. Big Eric was taken in by this attack and fell over backwards, losing his grip on his sword due to the immense pain of being hit in his injury. Dropping to the ground with the sword beside him, Eric held his ankle tightly.

Rayse stood up, a little somber after causing his mercenary to get into such a pitiful state what he had done. The Contractor decided to blame Dereck for this: Look what you did, you son of a bitch! If you just listened! Speaking of which, he hadn't seen Dereck. He looked back to where he kicked him into the patch of trees, and he was decidedly absent. Rayse could only assume that he ditched Eric and ran off. He was tired of this entire affair, however, and didn't seek to pursue his runaway mercenary.

He pulled out his pack of cigarettes, lighting another one, looking down at Eric and asking, "How long you been a mercenary, Big Eric?"

Eric looked up at The Contractor standing over him with a confused look on his face, "Is this one of them mind games I was warned about? I ain't buying it!"

"Just answer the question."

"Well damn, boss, more than fifteen years at least."

"You ever wanted to retire? Just live a peaceful life in the middle of nowhere in a place like this?"

For the first time in this job, he felt some sympathy for the big oaf. Well, not really. There was something he wanted him to do. In short: Yes, he was playing mind games.

Rayse continued, "Before you and Dereck pulled this stunt, I convinced the mayor to take you and your entire troop into the village as craftsmen and workers. This place has no money... now. This plan is still salvageable, we just need to wait until it has some money after all these projects are done. I'll come back someday to collect my pay. I'm give you a chance to get out of this life, and this is how you treat me? Damn straight I treat you like a dog, running away like that."

Eric let go of his leg and slowly got up with a sorry look on his face. It seems that Rayse's speech was having some effect.

"I'm not sticking around to see how this turns out, so it's up to you as your last job," Rayse said, taking out his cigarette and pointing back towards the town. This was the main purpose of his forgiveness; to tie up whatever loose ends he has in town without actually having to go back there. "I want you to go to the rendezvous point and tell them the passcode: Necklace. I told them that the words of whoever says that will be treated the same as orders from me. The mayor knows the score."

"I-I..." Eric stuttered, somewhat sober now with his head hanging low. "I don't know what to say..."

"Don't say anything. Just get out of here. There's a horse not far behind that you can use. Hurry up, I don't know how much time you have before they burn the place down!"

"Y, yes s-sir!" Eric yelled, then limped out into the road.

With that done, he looked towards Gabriel. Unfortunately for the young noble, His arrangement with had nothing to do with keeping his mouth shut in front of Elise.

He stated, "Since I couldn't keep my word, you can keep your damn money."

He looked away but clearly addressed Elise in a loud, audible voice, "If my men cause any trouble, tell them I'll be on their asses faster than they can imagine."

Rayse would've gone back to town and confirmed this himself, but he was just so done with this place. Before he could forget, he went to the wreckage and retrieved his knife that was perfectly intact to the side of it. Liviol was a damn fine material, he thought.

He started walking away hastily, only looking back one last time with his cigarette in his hand pointing the tip at Gabriel, "However, I still expect your debt of service to be repaid someday, so don't disappoint me Gabriel Talisman." He had a wide grin on his face as he stressed the last word.

Actually, it seems that Gabriel had some luck today after all. Rayse didn't notice that his shove was too forceful and actually knocked out Elise, so she didn't actually hear any of that.

* * * *

Nearby in the bushes, Dereck lied in wait for the longest time. He heard everything, but he knew that he was helpless in front of Rayse. He decided that he would injure him in the best way possible: To spread rumors all over Knife's Edge about him about what happened here. Stifling his short giggle, he ran off on a different path from Rayse, intent on reaching Knife's Edge long before The Contractor did. Little did he know that his plan would involve Rayse in his most dangerous undertaking (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=9108) of all.

[Ladies' Man]

Outrage flared in Gabriel’s chest when Rayse’s comparatively unattractive figure entered his line of sight to brush aside his avenging angel as if she were nothing more than a homeless old man walking too slowly down the street. He managed a strangled cry that came out garbled from the blood that was running down the back of his throat and, sputtering feebly, pushed himself up as far as his arms could take him, sore shoulders protesting as he reached his hands and knees, lifting his head in time to see Eric’s ill-fated charge. Valentino was good. What would have happened if he had had to fight the bandit leader for real? He wanted to protest Eric's freedom as the gullible flunkey limped away, but the low chances of his being able to stop the much larger man made him stay quiet. Bleeding or not, the guy could probably still crush Gabriel's head between his knees.

Valentino’s clipped voice pulled his mind away from his moral dilemma. He turned his head sluggishly to look at him, struggling to keep up as Valentino's peeved voice sank into his aching skull. Keep the money? Necklace? Debt of service? Talisman? Gabriel’s mouth opened and shut, but he was too shocked to find anything to say. Somebody had let the proverbial cat out of the bag, though the cat in this case was information that would be more damaging to the owner of the feline than the one who let it loose. Was Valentino slimy enough to hunt down his family's fief to rob his mother and sisters? The man had sneered at his 200 gold before; attempting to bribe him into leaving them alone would probably just give the man ideas. His only real option was to let him go and to hope with all his heart that Rayse Valentino had a hidden reserve of mercy or a very bad memory for names. Gabriel watched with a sinking heart as the bandit walked away, his feet kicking up puffs of dust as he strode away on the darkening road.

A soft groan reached his ears and the golden head of the mayor’s daughter lifted off the ground, her eyes hazy with confusion as she looked around. Gabriel's worried thoughts were banished instantly.

“Elise!” His heart almost burst with joy. She was alive and safe and had born witness to his heroics. The day was saved after all!

“Gabriel?” She sounded neither pleased nor excited to see him, only a little surprised, and she frowned as she pushed herself up into a seated position. A mere two yards of splinter-ridden grass separated them, but the distance felt like a mile-wide chasm to Gabriel. He would’ve bridged the gap if he thought he could have managed to move without whimpering. Even his teeth hurt!

“Where’s . . . where’s that bastard criminal?” she grumbled.

“Elise!” He couldn’t keep the reproach out of his voice. A foul word like that ought never to fall from lips as lovely as hers.

“What?” She threw him an annoyed glance and then struggled again to stand up without the use of her bound hands. Gabriel stifled a groan. If she was getting up then he certainly had to as well, but his body had quite a bit of nonverbal complaining to deliver on that course of action. He rose stiffly, feeling as though his body was every bit as demolished as the carriage that sat in a broken heap behind him. His forearms throbbed, his back ached, his whole face was numb with pain, but every thought of physical torment fled his mind as Elise came towards him, her emerald eyes fixed on his, her arching brows lowered beneath her disheveled hair.

“Is he gone?”

“Valentino?” He saw her eyes flicker with disapproval and hurried on, “I mean, the bandit leader? Yes, he’s gone. He lost the fight; he’s not going to burn down Tradepost. Those guys that kidnapped you were disobeying his orders, but we—I . . . we came after you.” There was really no point in lying; she’d seen Valentino and would have no trouble piecing the clues of their reluctant partnership together. All he could pray for was that she wouldn’t suspect any other kind of agreement between the two of them. It wouldn't hurt to hope that she hadn’t caught a glimpse of his undignified pursuit, either.

“Thank God,” she murmured, lowering her head as the tension in her face eased. Gabriel’s blood pounded in his ears and he had to work hard to keep his emotions in check. She was so beautiful! He had to stifle his indignation at her exclamation, however. God? Why thank him? He wasn’t the one who’d been dragged down the road behind a galloping horse, gotten punched in the face, and recieved countless hard-toed kicks for her sake.

“I promised I’d save you, didn’t I?”

Her eyes flickered with what he feared was annoyance. “You don’t have to sound so smug about it.”

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat if you asked me to,” he vowed solemnly. His spine shrieked in protest at the thought.

Her moon-faced shape was smudged with dirt, but her sun-spared skin seemed to glow in the dim light, and no visage had ever seemed lovelier as she looked up at him with cautious surprise. “You . . .?”

Gabriel’s throat was dry. He nodded.

Elise looked away, her cheeks going red beneath her smattering of freckles.

“I love you, Elise.”

She looked up at him with an indecipherable expression and stepped across the grass until she was close enough to have to tilt back her head to see his face, her eyes boring into his with a double dose of intensity. Her eyebrows were lowered pensively, and she had her lower lip caught between her teeth in an innocently sultry way that made breathing for the smitten man an arduous task.

“Let’s make a trade.”

He couldn’t believe his ears, and he couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice. After all of that did she still not understand how he felt? “A trade? We don’t have to barter, Elise. I’d do anything for you!”

Her eyebrows lowered into a frown and her eyes skirted away from his for a second before returning. “Don’t be melodramatic,” she chided in a firm but gentle voice. “Come on, make a deal with me.”

A shiver rolled down Gabriel’s spine. Did she know? Was she mocking him for that clever but degrading deal he had made with Valentino on her behalf? It wouldn’t have surprised him if the gorgeous treasure before him revealed that she’d discovered his deepest, darkest secret, but the thought still left him cold. He stared into her eyes, searching for even a hint of the disdain that she would surely feel if she knew. Her verdant gaze was clear, however, and the only thing he could see on her face was the intelligent spark that had been a part of putting him under her power in the first place.

“Anything you want, anything you need, anything at all,” he murmured fervently, “you got it.”

Her delicate mouth pulled up at the corners in a warm grin. Her arms rose between them, her hands obstructing his view of her heartbreaking smile as she shoved her bound wrists into his face.

“Cut me loose,” she ordered.

Gabriel’s eyebrows lowered in confusion, but he complied quickly, slitting the rope and returning his dagger to his belt in one easy motion, his eyes never leaving her face. Was that all she wanted?

“My turn,” she said softly, stepping up on her tiptoes. Her arms stayed lifted, and her hands spread to settle on either side of Gabriel’s face. Her long fingers were cool as they slowly slid down from his temple. Gabriel was afraid to move. He didn’t so much as blink. He was even afraid that the slamming drumbeat of his heart would scare her away like a slinking cat.

“I really appreciate everything you did for my father and Tradepost,” she said softly, her mouth inches away from his face, “and for me. I appreciate it so much that I’m going to do something for you that might end up really hurting, but that I, for one, will certainly not regret.”

“Elise?” His voice quavered with hope. She shushed him with a gentle smile as her hands followed the ridge of his cheekbone, sliding gently across the tender skin of his face. He winced. “Ouch, watch the—”

Her fingers moved like a snake. One second her soft hands were caressing his cheeks, and in the next her strong digits had fastened like the jaws of a rabid squirrel around his nose, wrenching it with inhuman strength in a jerk that made a loud crack echo through his skull.

Gabriel doubled over screaming, his face awash in burning agony as he swayed and staggered away, partly in pain and partly in case she decided to come at him again. Traitorous whore! What could have made such a glorious angel become so terrible a demon? How could someone for whom he’d just risked his life repay him with such blatant hostility? All she’d had to do was tell him that she didn’t like him! She didn’t have to go and add injury to insult by tweaking an already ungodly painful wound!

Elise had stepped back the moment her dirty deed was done, and through the unavoidable tears that warped his vision he could see her empathetically bent over with a hand tentatively stretched towards him, an apologetic grimace on her face.

“I’m sorry, Gabriel, really I am,” she cooed sincerely. “I had to do it! You’ll thank me later, I swear.”

He didn’t even want to try talking. Screaming was hard enough with blood still rushing down his throat and chin and tears streaming down his face. As unjustifiable as it felt, this new explosion of pain served him right. This was his just deserts for tricking a town into thinking that he’d saved their homes by merit of his skill alone. She may have just been getting revenge for some personal offense that Gabriel wasn’t aware of committing, but she’d inadvertently exacted justice for her whole town for his chicanery. It was a sign! An excessively painful one, to be sure, but a kick in the pants from the goddess of fate all the same. He had no doubt that his father was rolling around in his heavenly gowns— if the old codger had actually made it up there—at the sight of his son crying because of a woman. It wouldn’t be the first time that’d happened, but the geezer would appreciate the irony of the situation all the more for knowing that Gabriel’s broken heart hurt more than the blooming mess of his nose.

“Gabriel? Are you all right?” She sounded contrite enough, but when she laid a questioning hand on his shoulder he moved quickly to put space between them. As a wise scholar had once said, Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled stiffly, straightening his spine and facing her with all the dignity he could muster.

Elise saw his cold expression and rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Oh, come on, don’t be a baby. You’re the son of a lord, remember? What kind of noble wants to go through life with a crooked nose? I did you a favor.”

Gabriel lifted his chin and fixed her with the condescending stare that his father had taught him first-hand. “May I escort you back to your father?”

He unhitched the carriage’s unhappy horses and walked them back to town, making sure to keep at least a full horse’s length between them at all times. He managed to stop crying before they were met by the villagers of Tradepost, who came came out with torches and cheering to greet them. His backpack, which had been lost at the start of the dragging, was returned to him, and the mayor gave him a weary but heartfelt thanks.

“We owe you much, my boy,” he said gravely to the appreciative nods of the crowd around him. “You’ve done us a great service.”

“You owe me nothing,” he answered, keeping all of his emotions tightly under guard. The mayor invited him to stay at his home, and even the redheaded innkeeper’s son protested when he told them that he was planning to leave immediately. He brushed aside the villagers' invitations to their celebration and their worries about traveling at night, and he ignored the curious looks his sudden somber taciturnity elicited. He didn’t have the heart to stay another moment in Tradepost. Every second was torture when he knew that the double-sided Elise was ever lurking nearby, ready and waiting to find him with his guard down to inflict more pain. He let an old woman fix up his face who marveled at his prodigious ability to bleed, choking back bitter tears when she remarked on how cleanly the cartilage would heal. The sky was black when he left, striding down the one big street of the little town with the intent of being as far away as possible before he stopped for the night. A voice stopped him at the edge of town.

“Gabriel!”

He turned to see Elise running down the road after him. She had washed and was dressed in a modest blue gown that made her eyes seem to glow even in the dark. He bit down on his tongue to keep the pain in his chest from manifesting on his face. “My lady?”

“You’re just going to leave? No farewell, no promise to return?”

He almost lost his nerve. She was so beautiful! But then his gaze flickered to her evil snake hands, and he knew that he would never feel safe anywhere near her. She had betrayed his trust at a moment of great weakness, using her wiles and his confessed adoration to strike him where it hurt the most. It was the kind of traiterous blow that a relationship couldn't recover from. A few hours earlier he had been willing and practically attempting to die for her, but now he just wanted to get away before the weakness of his heart made him refuse the wisdom of his mind.

“I may pass through here again,” he said impassively. He bent at the waist in a perfunctory bow, his swollen eyes hard as glass. “Goodbye. I pray that the rest of your life is mercifully uneventful.”

The mayor's daughter stared at him, her mouth slightly open and her eyebrows raised in disbelief. “You really are mad at me! Egads, I just straightened your nose! It was for your own good. Aren’t you being a little silly?”

Gabriel didn’t let himself wonder. “Goodbye, Elise.”

He turned stiffly and continued on his journey, leaving the confounded maiden alone in the middle of the street. He didn’t look back, but he only got a few miles away before the aching of his body forced him to stop and rest. He lay down on the grass of an untended field and stared up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle peaceably above him. He considered reaching down to take off his boots, but even the thought of movement made his bones ache. With a melancholy sigh Gabriel closed his eyes and forced away all thoughts of his long troublesome day.

“Knife’s Edge,” he promised himself.

A bitter smile tugged at the corners of his mouth despite the pain the movement caused his nose. Enough with the dallying; time was wasting away. As soon as it was light enough to see the road, he was going to get up and move on and continue his quest to find his father’s murderers. No foolish brooding over sadistic double-crossers and relationships that were never meant to be. The future was all that he had to hold on to, and he had no intention of letting his slip away from him. There were other beautiful women in the world, and with any luck those others wouldn’t have vicious mean streaks.

Gabriel’s smile grew in a failing attempt to belie the aching loneliness in his heart. Maybe he could try to write some poetry. His sisters had always prescribed that when he was going through breakups before. The heartbroken noble drifted to sleep on a cloud of badly rhyming angst.

There are a whole lot of fish in the sea
Too bad I fell so madly in love
With the one that’s not right for me . . .


((No spoils.))

[Karuka]

This was a wonderful thread by two very good writers. When I first looked at how long it was, I resigned myself to doing it, but it was actually a very quick and entertaining read, for which I thank you both. I'm going to mention little problems I noticed, and I will try not to gush too much.

Continuity: 7.5

I got a very strong sense of the past from Gabriel, and a very strong sense of the future from Rayse. I could have stood to know what, exactly, the mercenaries had done to get into Rayse's debt, and I could have used a slightly stronger sense of the future from Gabriel, but there was nothing else wrong here. Half a point was deducted for Ghost Hunter's disappearance.

Pacing: 8

The first five or six posts really dragged along, but after that it progressed almost perfectly. I felt the knife-fight was rushed a little bit, and there were a couple of transitions where Gabriel took off from a different, earlier point than Rayse left, which was appropriate for this thread, but was still a bit jarring.

Setting: 7.5

I got a strong enough sense of the setting that I didn't feel that the thread was taking place in a shapeless void, but there were times you seemed to ignore it altogether. Gabriel, when you first entered the tavern, you noticed the smell of it. That was good, try implementing a little more of it. We rely on vision so much that we don't normally think of such detail, and it really adds to the setting.

Persona: 8

Rayse fluctuated a little more than he should have, and Gabriel's naïveté was maybe a little over stated, but other than that, spot on. There was very little of the new character awkwardness surrounding Gabriel, so I applaud you.

Action: 9

This was almost perfect. I'm not giving you a ten here because there was a little tightening up and cleaning up that you could have done to smooth out the rough transitions and other little edges, but the action here was good. Something I didn't take off for but wondered about: when Rayse told Big Eric to tell the other guys "necklace," was he trying to ship him off to be hung?

Dialogue: 8

The dialogue made a lot of sense. I liked the "tough guy" element to Rayse and the almost eloquent, but still somewhat gangly speech of Gabriel. The speech had character, down to the NPCs.

Mechanics: 9

There were a few little errors in word choice (mostly when one form of a word was substituted for another), word dropping, and punctuation.

Technique: 7

I saw some good imagery here, especially from Gabriel - I'm not sure if the Helen of Troy comment was entirely appropriate, though. That's an Earth legend. Maybe you could have come up with an Althanean one?

Clarity: 8
Rayse, your flashback in your second post wasn't entirely clear. Next time, try putting >such and such amount of time before< or something. Other than that, good job.

Wild Card: 9

I really enjoyed this thread, and hope to read more of your stuff in the future and write with both of you someday.

Total: 81! Congratulations!

Rewards:

Ladies' Man receives 1,490 EXP 460 GP
Rayse Valentino receives 3,223 EXP and 440 GP
Ghost Hunter receives 200 EXP

I'll be nominating this thread for a JC!

EXP/GP added! Rayse Valentino levels up!


Movement pending JC decision