Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Memoirs of a Mercenary ❯ Chapter 8

Although I am ashamed to say it now, back then I gave little thought to how I treated the customers. It was a terrible place, the food was awful and the drink worse. Our patrons were not of the highest quality, and I treated them as such, often venting my frustrations with deliberately sloppy work. I doubt they really noticed.

 

I learned quickly, also, that the warrior's idea of alternate employment was a common one. Many customers thought me to work both jobs, making bald-faced offers that embarrassed and angered me by turns. I would rather work here a lifetime, than sink to that, especially with men such as ate at the tavern. There were a few, though, who were troublesome. More than once I had to call the bartender, who was a good head and shoulders above most men, to make them stop. But it was not enough for one man.

 

I had gone outside to catch a breath of fresh air, and let the bartender deal with the man. He had tried to grab me and force me onto his lap, but had gotten a tankard of the foul liquid he was drinking over his head for his efforts. In his sputtering surprise, I had slipped away, the bartender nodding to me as I passed him on my way to the door. I had calmed down, after a few moments, and was about to return to the kitchen to clean the drink I had gotten on my worn and dirty clothes when the angry man burst from the tavern. He came right at me, and I was so surprised I forgot to react as he pushed me up against the wall by my neck, the rest of his reeking body following. I panicked. My people were not so stupid as to assume that we would always have a sword on hand, and so I had learned a few hand-to-hand combat tricks. I pushed my thumb into his windpipe hard, and he backed off, choking.

 

“Tera!” The bartender called to me, and when I looked he tossed my sword and sheath to me. He must have run to the back to get it. I caught it effortlessly, and unsheathed it, throwing the sheath out of the way.

 

“Stay away from me,” I warned him. “An evil spirit has claimed me as his wife, and I will not hesitate to call him down on you!” I wrapped my mouth around the strange syllables, having practiced this particular sentence carefully, just in case.

 

The man stopped coughing and started laughing. “You expect me to believe in that horse manure?” he chuckled gruffly. “Not a chance.”

 

So I called the evil spirit. I did it in my own language, unsure what to say. The effect was good though, the crowd that had gathered silenced, uneasy. The man only continued to laugh. A minute passed, and then another. When nothing happened, the crowd turned, some yelling lewd suggestions to the man I faced.

 

I felt the blood drain from my face. How could this be? It had worked last time! I had been very careful to be specific this time, and yet nothing was happening. The man was not writhing on the ground in pain. Rather, he seemed to be gathering himself, and I did not like the gleam in his eye.

 

“Screw that!” I yelled, “I'll kill you myself!” I ran at him, but to my surprise my sword hit metal, and I backed off, the crowd forming a careful ring around us. The man had drawn his sword, and I was surprised that he could move his bulky frame that quickly. But what surprised me more was his sword. It was nearly twice the length of mine, long and thin, and only one edge was sharpened. Yet it looked extremely light. How could such a sword exist? It looked like you could break it with your hands, it was so thin. I was not confident, though.

 

The man laughed again, crueler. “Spirits, you say? I don't believe in that. This is what I believe in.” he hoisted his sword a little, and then came at me.

 

He was better than me. I knew that the instant our swords met. He was bigger, stronger, and I was unfamiliar with the forms he used. My mind silently locked them away, though, just incase he should use one twice. I was good at dodging, and ended up doing a lot of it. I was tiring quickly, though, and fear began to creep into my heart. I was beginning to plan my escape from the situation, when something strange happened. The man rushed me again, but just before he reached me, he seemed to trip over his own feet. He didn't fall, but he lost his composure, his defense opening up wide.

 

I knew I wouldn't get a second chance. I ran at him, his long and terrifying sword piercing the air above my shoulder. My sword sank into his chest effortlessly, right between two ribs. I will never forget the look on his face, the first man I consciously killed. He looked so surprised, dropping his sword and staring down at the sword protruding from his body as if he didn't quite understand. He fell to the ground, his surprised eyes never closing.

 

Suddenly the rest of the world reappeared, murmuring from the crowd seeming loud to my ears. I had shut it all out in my concentration, which was both good and bad at the same time. My world had narrowed to the small circle in which we had danced.

 

“Wow… that was a bad mistake from Kao…” one man said quietly.

 

“Yeah…” another replied. “He shouldn't have fought after drinking, even if she was just a girl.”

 

The first man frowned. “But he hadn't had that much…”

 

It was true, I knew. The tankard I had dumped on his head was mostly full, and it had been his first. But, I reasoned, sooner or later everybody messed up. The trick to swordplay was not to mess up first.

 

When it became clear no one was interested in claiming the body, I began to search his things. It was the worst kind of foraging, but there I was, stuck in that stupid tavern. He had the sword and a rather large bag of gold, nothing more. With that much gold, what more would you need? I was thrilled, and began to turn to retrieve my sheath, so I could tie the bag onto my belt. But I paused.

 

The sword he had used lay on the ground, abandoned. By the way the few who lingered gazed at it, I guessed it was pretty valuable. Beyond that, I was curious. I wanted to know how to use it, as it was clearly superior to the one I carried now, both in length and strength of material. I stripped the belt from the body, surprised to find it was only a strip of cloth that passed through a loop on the sheath. I tied it around my waist, and sheathed the sword with some difficulty. It was hard to aim into the sheath, the blade was so long. I then picked up my own sheath and belt, and adjusted it so the blade rested on the small of my back, the way men wore their swords when they were working and wanted it out of the way. I reached for it, practicing. It was awkward, but better than nothing.

 

 

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AN:

 

Well, that's all I've got for now. Tell me what to think and I'll post more once I've written it! ^.^