Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Memoirs of a Mercenary ❯ Chapter 12

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Chapter 12

We had been walking nearly two weeks when we were first attacked. Looking back, we had probably walked past bandits unawares, who had judged me by my appearance as more trouble than whatever Horiho’s strange pack might contain. It was odd, at the time, to think that my blonde hair and light eyes struck fear into criminals, but it likely saved us a lot of trouble.

However, the bandits we encountered now had a significant advantage: numbers. Six of them ambushed us, popping out of the woods as we passed, and I was sorely embarrassed. I had been lost in thoughts of home again, or I surely would have heard them. They circled us carefully, sizing us up. By the way they never looked over their shoulders, I realized they had more men waiting in the forest, perhaps with bows and arrows.

“Draw your sword!” Horiho hissed at me in Arjuni. “This is what I brought you along for!”

I shook my head subtly, lifting one hand to silence him and looking past the bandits into the woods. Horiho followed my line of sight, and gulped. He was smart, I would give him that. The bandits had their swords out, but they were held loosely, not ready for attack. If I drew my sword, I knew we would likely be dead in an instant.

Horiho began to take off his pack. I stared at him, questioning. “Trust me,” he said in Arjuni, quietly. “Pretend you do not understand Gana. And forgive me for some of the things I am going to say. They are only for show.”

I nodded.

He set down the pack, and the bandits chuckled a little. “We have nothing of much value,” Horiho explained. “I carry books, mostly, and a little food. You may have the food if you like.” He took out a book and showed it to the bandits. They barely took notice.

“What about cash?” one bandit demanded. “Can’t travel without cash. Where would you stay?”

My purse burned against my skin, hidden beneath my clothes at Horiho’s suggestion. I now knew why.

“I have no money. I have family waiting at our destination, I will stay with them.” Horiho spoke in a calm, quiet voice. It was a little infuriating.

“What about her?” another bandit gestured to me with his sword. “You hadta pay her, so she’s gotta have money.”

It was beginning to be difficult to pretend ignorance to their conversation. My hands itched to grab my sword, despite the consequences.

Horiho chuckled a little. “Her people don’t use money. They don’t even know what it is, the savages. I pay her with food, which she can’t even get for herself. A bit sad, really. She’s a bit like a dog.”

Despite his earlier words, Horiho’s comments proved the hardest test of my composure yet. I felt no heat of a betraying blush, but I might have blanched.

The warriors, however, seemed to take it at face value. I realized then why the whole exchange had gone so smoothly—they rarely faced any real opposition. No matter how rich they were, when confronted with the choice of give me your stuff, or die and then I take it anyway, most chose their lives quietly.

“Alright,” the bandit who had first spoken said at last. He sounded fairly disappointed. “We do good enough business that we don’t need to bother with travel rations. Put your books away, scholar.” He eyed me over, and his face lit up. “But I would very much like that sword. Surely she doesn’t need the both of them? Won’t take the stubby savage one, but the other looks to be of decent make.” He tapped his sword against the scabbard of my Gana sword.

It was too much. The tension of pretending not to understand, and listening to Horiho casually demean me, had wound me as into a tight coil. What the bandit had just done was an insult—he had used his sword to touch me as a thing of no consequence—and it was a mistake.

My short Arjuni sword was out in a flash—I had been practicing—and in the blink of an eye, the bandit sported a second red smile along his neck. He made a gurgling sound, a confused look on his face, and then collapsed.

It was this moment that I realized my mistake. I flinched and waited for the arrows to come from between the trees, but was greeted only by an eerily familiar silence from the forest. The other bandits realized the attack wasn’t coming, and obliged themselves.

It was quick work, and of no mention. They were not bandits because they were good fighters—a good fighter could go bandit on his own. Groups only formed when necessary, and these men fought very poorly.

To his credit, Horiho made little response to the carnage around him, except to stand very still and be very quiet. It was a good choice, on his part. When I was finished, he stared at the dead a moment longer, cleared his throat, and said in an only slightly shaky voice, “Well. I suppose we should continue moving then.”

“Not yet,” I said. I bent down and began to examine the bodies.

At this, Horiho blanched. “Tera… this is…” he sighed. “The Gana believe that robbing a dead body is disgraceful, both to the dead and the one doing it. It’s part of why they dislike the Arjuni so much. We believe it invites evil spirits.”

I quickly filed that last bit into my memory to ask about later. “It is also practical,” I reasoned. “I will only take anything if we need it. To take more would only weigh us down.”

Horiho nodded, uncomfortable, but willing to compromise.

I found little that fit my description. “There is also something I would like to see. Wait here.”

Horiho made as if to protest, but I walked into the forest before he could stop me. I walked in a straight line, perpendicular to the road. It would be the easiest line to shoot. After only about 15 steps in, I found the archers. They were dead. This did not surprise me, as it was the only rational reason for them not to have shot us. What surprised, and somewhat disturbed me was that they had clearly been killed in an Arjuni manner. We are fond of slices and dismemberment—it is more practical than stabbing with our wide blades. The Gana, however, preferred hacking and stabbing. It was less efficient, as it meant separate moves for offense and defense, and not as graceful, but their long swords gave them better reach and leverage, so it made sense.

I searched the archers’ bodies as well, and walked back to Horiho.

“Were there more?” he asked.

I nodded. “They’re dead.”

“Oh.” He blinked rapidly. “That’s… very noble of you.”

“No, they were dead when I found them.” I started dragging the bodies off of the road.

Horiho frowned. “That is most unusual. I suggest we leave the vicinity immediately, as whatever preyed on them may come after us next.”

I had not thought of that. I nodded, and said nothing of the way the archers had been killed. “Let’s go then.”



We walked quickly for a while, putting distance between us and the bandits. Once we slowed down, I began to think. “I would like to ask you something of Gana culture,” I said at long last.

Horiho looked at me cautiously. He seemed unsure of me, perhaps thinking I had taken offense to his earlier comments. I had, but at the same time I knew he didn’t mean it, and was willing to let it go. “Sure. It’s only fair.”

“You said that to take things from the dead was disgraceful. That it brought evil spirits. But you also said it was…” I searched for the word, “noble of me to kill the archers. I would like to know what the Gana believe about death.”