Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
-- The Hollow Men TS Elliot
The fire crackled in the darkness, sending shadows dancing like the spirits of the dead upon the trees that ringed the little camp. Seven mercenaries, rough, unruly men hardened by a tough life and even tougher times, sat around the fire, joking and eating the rabbits they’d trapped earlier and drinking the wine they’d bought with their hard-earned money.
The leader sat back, counting the gold they’d earned on their last job. Guarding merchant caravans through mountain passes was never what he’d considered a good way to spend his life, but those fat merchants paid well. And if it meant there were a fewer bandits around, well, that made their job a little easier. But there would always be bandits, so merchants would always want their precious cargoes protected, which meant there would always be jobs for people like himself and his mates.
"Hey, Raydon!" shouted one of the newer members of the group, a rough-mannered man by the name of Ludac. "When you gonna give us our share of the gold? I want my money!"
"What’s your hurry, Ludac? It’s not as if there’s any place to spend it out here," he shot back.
"That’s not the point—"
"No, the point is the swordpoint at your throat, Ludac," Raydon said, without moving. His second-in-command, Petran, and one of the few men he considered his friend, had the point of his sword at Ludac’s throat.
"We get paid when Raydon pays us, got it?" Petran said in a menacing tone.
Ludac nodded sulkily and went back to his wine. Petran sheathed his sword and sat back down on the log. Raydon went back to counting the money.
"I don’t like it out here," Petran said quietly to Raydon. "We should have come back with a caravan instead of by ourselves."
"That fat merchant paid us extra to come back early and join up with the second half of his caravan out of Seyruun. Don’t worry, Petran, there’s nothing in these hills except trees and shadows."
"That’s what worries me."
Raydon gave Petran a lopsided smile. "‘Fraid a mean ol’ Mazoku is gonna jump out at you?"
"Mazoku are fairy stories, Raydon, and you know that." Petran’s voice was a little too brittle to convince anyone that’s what he really believed.
The big leader was about to respond when a cold wind blew through the camp. Sensing something, Raydon sat back and looked at the shadows jumping from tree to tree. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, a sure sign that there was danger about. He stood and drew his sword. The others looked up at him, and without question climbed to their feet and drew their swords, too. Steel rasped on steel in the silent darkness. A movement drew Raydon’s attention and he turned to face it. "Who’s there?"
"Well, well, you are good, aren’t you?" said a voice from the darkness. Raydon turned his head this way and that to try to locate the sound.
"Show yourself," the old merc growled, dropping into a ready position. Behind him, the other six were doing the same, forming a circle with blades pointed outwards.
"I—I think I’ll stay here, if you don’t mind," the voice said, this time from a quarter turn around the camp. Raydon’s head snapped around and he centered on the voice. There was a shadow there that looked vaguely like a man.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"Ah, straight to the point. I like that." The voice remained where it was. "Quite simply, I want to hire you."
Raydon guffawed. "You what?"
"You are mercenaries, are you not?" the voice asked. "For hire to anyone with enough money?" An object appeared out of the darkness and landed at Raydon’s feet. "Take the job and there’s one of those for each of you with this as an advance."
Raydon signaled to Petran to get the bag. Carefully, Petran crouched and jerked the drawstring open. Gold coins spilled onto the ground—more than their combined pay from the merchant.
"All right," Raydon said, lowering his sword and dropping out of the ready stance; he did not sheathe his sword, however. "Let’s talk."
The shadow danced, as if leaning back against the tree. "There are two travelers headed north to Seyruun—about half a day’s journey south of here. A man and a woman. I want you to…waylay them."
Raydon didn’t bat an eye; they’d all done their share of dirty work. "Sounds reasonable. Shouldn’t be too hard with just one man."
"Ah, hear me out. The man is a master swordsman and the woman a skilled sorceress."
"So? Seven warriors against one swordsman is hardly an even match."
"No, I suppose it isn’t. However, you might stand a chance of surviving. I do wish there were more of you, though," the shadow said.
"You’re kidding, right? Seven against one? He’ll never survive."
"Do not underestimate this man’s skills. He is the finest swordsman around and his abilities are legendary."
Raydon nodded impatiently just to get their unseen employer to get on with it. "Okay, we’ll watch ourselves. ‘Two travelers’ is a pretty vague description. How will we recognize them?"
"The man is tall with long blonde hair, wears armor and carries a longsword. The woman is short with long, red hair and wears a black cloak."
"So we’re to attack them. Then what?"
"I want the woman. Unharmed."
Raydon didn’t bother to cover a sinister smile. He wondered if this was the woman’s husband or jealous rival out to steal her from her man. "And the man?"
As he watched, he saw the shadow move; if it had had a head, he would have sworn that it had turned to look directly at him. Two pinpoints of light flickered in the darkness for the briefest of moments before the voice answered.
"Kill him."
Slayers copyright 1991-2000 by Hajime Kanzaka/Rui Araizumi/Kadokawa Shoten/TV
TOKYO/SOFTX/Marubeni.
The other characters copyright Wendy W Lee.