“Get up.”

Sarros groaned and blinked in the torchlight. "Hey, captain. What do you need?"

Mochon ignored him. "We'll start early this morning. Come." He turned and walked toward the prisoner tent.

Sarros staggered to his feet, dragging his belt and sword behind him, fastening it to his waist as he walked. He’d had to sleep in his traveling clothes again. The mercenary had hoped to obtain new clothes and get his current set washed at the settlement at the edge of the Empire, but of course that hadn't happened. He'd need to look into getting supplies when they sent men into the settlement, he decided.

"Why are we going this way?" he asked with a yawn. "Any chance we can get breakfast and tea before we go?"

Mochon seemed angry, and Sarros had no idea why. Maybe the captain had slept on the wrong side of the rock-hard ground. He only grunted in response to the Actor’s question.

Sarros noted there was a guard in front of the prisoner tent as they approached. "You get another prisoner last night?" He tried to keep his words casual, but the Actor had a feeling he knew what was coming next.

"Go on."

"Yessir." Sarros stepped in, and Mochon followed. As the captain entered, his torchlight illuminated the face and form of a well-bruised young man who sat with his back to the supporting mast. His mouth was gagged, and his hair was matted with blood. Sarros did not react, but waited patiently for Mochon to speak. He knew the leader would be waiting and watching, and wanted to keep the situation as cool as he could.

The leader nodded as he saw Sarros declined to speak. "We took this man on the same road as you," he said. "Except he was heading the other way." Mochon walked up and dug the toe of his boot into the young man's thigh. The prisoner grunted, but gave no other response.

"And?" Sarros asked. "What does this have to do with me? I don't know if him, if that's what you're implying."

"Of course not," Mochon said. "We’ve heard about him in local rumors. He's not from the settlement proper, as it happens. A wandering farmhand for the last few years. Earned an... honest living working in the fields. Except he was never up to any good, was he?"

"Was he?" Sarros asked.

"No." Mochon knelt down, drew a knife from his boot, and with one hand cut away part of the prisoner's shirt. Underneath was a long-healed scar or brand in a pattern that suggested a sword, horns, and the letter "R".

"He's a rapist," Sarros said.

"And a murderer, but they never got him for that," Mochon said. A serial murderer, what’s more, by his own confession.”

"And why do you tell me this?"

"You're the new man, so I thought it'd be proper for you to see we have an important role in the land," said Mochon. "We keep the peace in lieu of the Empire in these parts. No Imperials around to hunt down murderers and rapists, so we capture them and put them to death when we can." He smiled with all his teeth. "And they hurt no one again. The villages appreciate us, and we don’t harm the locals, so we stay here with no complaints to the Empire."

"I see." Sarros nodded slowly. "Good job, then. Well done." He hoped that was it. It never was, of course.

"You're one of us, so I thought I'd give you the duty of carrying out justice." Mochon leaned in conspiratorially. "We Imperials are good at that. It's almost our duty to see these things through, eh?"

Sarros turned away. "Your breath smells like rum... Captain. And anyway, as you said yesterday, neither of us are Imperial any longer." He tensed.

"Aye," Mochon replied quietly, "But you remember I also told you I'm in charge." He gestured to Sarros' hip. "Why don’t you put that gift I so generously provided to work. Show me you're a man of justice."

Sarros slowly drew his demon blade, and looked down at the prisoner. The young man didn’t seem to be conscious of anything currently happening. He appeared unaware that two terrible men discussed his fate not five feet away. Sarros looked at the gleaming blade in his hand, and sighed. "The justice is mine to dispense, Captain? That’s your order?"

Mochon nodded. "If you don't have the stones to execute him, if you're too merciful to kill a man in cold blood, you may also pardon him. He will, no doubt, rape and kill again, and that will be on your head."

"I see." Sarros knelt down so he was at eye level with the prisoner. He raised his heavy blade so its edge caressed the man's neck. Mochon could be lying about the prisoner's crimes. It might be an even larger trap than it seemed.

The young man raised his head and looked into Sarros' face, and as the drugs in his system began to clear, gleaming hints of his soul shone forth. Sarros narrowed his eyes as he saw terrible things in the prisoner's gaze, and his knuckles paled as the Actor squeezed his blade's grip as tightly as if he held the rapist's neck in his hand.

"I..." Sarros swallowed the spit he was almost about to hurl in the prisoner's face. "I give you invitation. Join this band, under my protection and your parole. Earn your keep as honestly as I can expect anyone in this world."

"Please… don’t kill me," the prisoner moaned. Slobber dribbled out of the corner of his mouth. "He said... you’d kill me."

Sarros slapped him across the face. '"Answer me! Do you understand? I give you an opportunity!"

"Whatever you say... please don't kill me." The prisoner's head dropped again.

Sarros growled, reached behind the man, and cut his bindings away. The prisoner fell face first into the ground, and the Actor did not stop him. Instead he turned to Mochon, blade still in hand. "I have dispensed justice, Captain. He is my man now."

The leader remained still, staring at the tableau before him. "I do not appreciate mockery," he hissed, and turned to leave. "See me in two hours with your... man. We will set out for the day's work."

Sarros felt he had handled it as best as his conscience would allow, but that wasn’t saying much. He looked down at the rapist and murderer he had acquitted, the criminal who would have been deserving of a quick and clean death at the very least.

Don’t be angry I won’t fall cleanly under your heel, Sarros thought. I only follow your example. Perhaps next time you should be the one to think twice before giving mercy to a monster like me. Next to that, this man is an innocent.