Butcher

Butcher stood above the broken body of a nameless Royalblood. The brat was right, it was time to wrap things up. Butcher made the mistake of going easy on him. Jon paid for it with his life. People like Jon were hard to come by. Most turned out like Perkins, backstabbers and traitors.

Butcher lifted his foot, ready to stomp the life out of his enemy.

A blow came from nowhere, Butcher’s reflexes allowed him to block it, but standing on one foot didn’t do any good to him. He was sent flying into a building. His attacker was stronger than the boy who had killed Jon. A part of the building collapsed and Butcher wondered if he shouldn’t just leave. For all he knew, it could be someone from Pantheras. His job in Soto was finished. Continuing this fight put him at risk and Butcher didn’t feel like risking his life over a dead subordinate.

“So, you overtook the entire town and no one has come to deal with you?”

Butcher emerged from the ruins. If he judged the man by the punch that sent him flying, he’d say his new opponent wasn’t strong enough to stop Butcher from escaping. He’d get a feel of his strength and make the final decision then.

“Who sent you?”

“I’m starting to see a pattern here,” the man replied. He wore a coat and a wide-brimmed hat. It looked ridiculous, which was a bad sign. Usually, the strongest amongst the Royalblood had such quirks. If this man had the strength of the Fourth Strip, Butcher would have to run.

“Are you the bounty hunter from the Silent Hollow?”

The man slapped his face with his hand, shaking his head gently.

“I’m not a bounty hunter. I’m a beast hunter. I was after Pantheras when my goals have changed. Now, I need to get this guy back to safety.” He nudged the beaten Royalblood with his boot.

Butcher wasn’t a coward, but in the world where some individuals wielded powers to dwarf an army, one needed to know when to withdraw.

“In that case,” Butcher said. “Take him and leave. I don’t have a quarrel with you.”

The man glanced down and grimaced.

“I hoped he’d be in a better shape. There are some rogue Red Coats in Cape Town and I can’t take them by myself.”

“What? Imperials? Which strip?”

“Second and Third. One each.”

“And do you expect me to help you?”

“If you do, I’ll let you…” the man’s head spun as Butcher’s scout, Emm came rushing.

“Imperials!”

“Shit. I forgot they put a tracking liquid on me.”

Butcher turned to go when steps sounded from the other side. A tall Royalblood in causal clothes walked toward them. He looked too relaxed and too pleased.

“How’s your hand, Valai?”

“Bartnick,” Valai tipped his hat, not looking worried.

“Lord Quilla knew you were up to something.” He looked down at the lying Royalblood. “This must be the bastard Royalblood, Giliad. Not the toughest one, it seems. But this will make my job easier.”

Butcher considered running away when he remembered about the tracking liquid on Valai. It meant that this Bartnick would chase Butcher first. Defeating him alone might be not possible for Butcher. On the other hand, teaming up with another Royalblood against the Imperials? If this got out, Butcher’s bounty would jump from ten gold coins to at least fifty. And that kind of sum would quickly attract enough bounty hunters to hunt him down.

“Let’s make a deal, Mr. Bartnick,” Butcher said. “I’ll help you to take this one down, in exchange, I’ll go my way, you’ll never hear of me again.”

Bartnick stopped twenty feet from them. He looked Butcher over then his eyes gravitated to Valai. The air was tense with the unsaid challenge. Butcher instinctively knew that both men were superior to Butcher. He really needed to make a deal here.

“Mr. Bartnick…”

Bartnick raised a hand.

“Lord Quilla wishes to know which Royal House has backed you after you’ve taken this town and more importantly – why?”

Butcher was taken aback by the demand. He was happy to take down this Valai together with Bartnick and leave Soto. Handing over the Royal House that had shielded Butcher from the empire for over three decades? The House of Quilla didn’t possess enough weight to keep Butcher safe. He needed a way out.

“I don’t know which Royal House put me here. These people didn’t introduce themselves,” he lied.

Bartnick nodded to that, seemingly unbothered.

“We’ll talk about that later. Now, you, Valai. Lord Quilla decided to hand you over to the people who had issued the bounty on your head. Your choice is to go willingly, keeping your dignity and body intact. Decide otherwise and I’m free to break every bone in your body. What would you say?”

There’s a bounty on Valai’s head? That stank of Royal House politics. It was rare to see a bounty on a proper Royalblood. They usually got away with a lot. Even killing a commoner didn’t warrant an arrest for a Royalblood.

Valai scratched the stubble on his face, giving an impression of thinking about Bartnick’s offer.

“I have to admit,” he said. “It’s a tempting deal. But I haven’t escaped without a good reason. Tell Quilla to stop punching above his league and return to his sandpit.”

Butcher expected Bartnick to show anger. It didn’t happen. Bartnick appeared amused by Valai’s refusal.

“I hoped you’d say so.”

The Royalblood at Valai’s feet shuddered, then slowly assumed a sitting position. For a moment, he didn’t pay attention to the circumstances. Butcher noticed that his traitorous scout, Emm, was gone.

“Can you fight?” Valai asked.

The younger Royalblood glanced around, taking in the situation with a suspicious stare. Only when his eyes found Butcher, his stare solidified into pure determination.

“I’m fine. Just needed time to heal my hands,” he answered gruffly.

“So, you’re the bastard Royalblood from Cape Town? Giliad, isn’t it?”

Giliad didn’t reply, he rolled his shoulders and launched at Butcher without a warning. Butcher met him head on. If the boy wanted another beating, he’d get it.

Giliad

Giliad wasn’t amused even when Butcher’s shocked face met his fist. Damage made by bullets still itched but the worst was behind him. Giliad ignored it as he relentlessly attacked the bandit. Butcher was on the backfoot, finding it harder to regain the upper hand he’d had earlier.

What Butcher didn’t have this time around was his rage. It made a substantial difference in their fight. Butcher couldn’t match Giliad’s speed. Twice he tried to say something only to have his face punched.

Their brawl ended when Butcher dropped unconsciously. Giliad turned around, judging the two men watching him. They seemed too relaxed for Giliad’s liking after he easily defeated Butcher. Were they here to help Butcher or him? They didn’t attack Giliad so he decided to leave them be.

For a second, Giliad considered killing Butcher then he gave up on the idea. He came here for Tzin. He set off toward the largest building, which he believed might hold the girl.

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked a man in casual clothes. If not for his body frame, Giliad would dismiss him as a commoner merchant. The other man in a ridiculous coat and hat had to be retarded to wear this kind of clothes in the jungle.

Ignoring him, Giliad walked away.

“So be it,” the man said and bolted after Giliad.

Even enraged Butcher hadn’t been this fast, Giliad barely managed to block the blow that meant to connect with his head. Giliad ground his teeth as his forearm bones felt the strength behind the punch.

“You’re going with me.”

The hat man appeared next to them and drove his fist into the other man’s face.

“Don’t forget about me, Bartnick,” the man said. “This isn’t one on one. With help of Giliad, we’re going to take you down. Right?”

Giliad massaged his forearm, not replying.

“My name’s Valaré. I was asked by your mayor to save you.”

“She’s not my mayor,” Giliad said, trying to understand why would the old woman want him saved? Either this Valaré was full of shit or Giliad was for too long out of the loop. But this wasn’t the time for a friendly chat.

Bartnick spat on the ground, showing them a wide smile.