Blonde Bandits IV

Having met up with the bandits in the desert, the two were briskly blindfolded and escorted to the same hideout. Mel and the male bandit sat at the table, plotting over a map of East Takanova, while the girls sat around the fire, half-listening while engaged in their own conversation.

Mel noticed that the girls were getting along, even surprisingly well, he thought. The bandit twins were showing Selmy some technique that appeared to be aimed at lowering her energy level, which prompted him to look up several times, thinking the girls had left the room. He thought about joining them out of interest, but his focus was on planning with the bandit leader. He had a very short span of time in which to do so, so he refocused himself on the map, thinking he would just ask Selmy about it later.

***

Two nights later. The first target.

Mel and Selmy met up with the bandits at the appointed time. The trio lugged a bulky potato sack into the forest’s clearing and rolled it into the grass.

“Alright pal, let’s do this quick and easy, and on to the next one,” the bandit said through a sigh. “This guy was pretty pathetic, so it’d be sad if he was a hit. We set the exchange for an hour from now, just as planned.”

“I don’t plan on making a scene out of it, so don’t worry,” Mel grunted as he approached the water and readied the small log raft they’d hidden the night before. “A simple go at pulling it, and we’re done. How dazed on medicine is he?”

“Oh, huhu, let’s just say that he was a loud catch; sobbing, pleading, screaming, the whole ball of wax—until we bubbled some opiates into his system. Thank goodness, because the girls were having a preeetty tough time with him.”

“He kicked me in the face, and then screamed apologies for the next ten minutes,” the livelier of the two girls added.

“Mm, it made me thankful for cooperative victims like you,” the quiet one threw in, glancing expressionlessly at Mel as he steadied the raft while the bandits rolled the victim onto it.

“Please don’t remember me by that,” he mumbled in response as he shot her an annoyed look. “Alright, let’s go, bandit.”

The two men settled into the raft and pushed out from the edge, leaving the girls behind. Using small paddles to wade their way to the center, they kept a close eye on the motionless potato sack as they paddled.

“You weren’t lying about the lack of patrols out here, eh?” the bandit noted, glancing around. “Say, Mel-boy, why do you think that is? I mean, if this sword is the most valued artifact in Takanova’s history aside from the green sword that’s been sealed who-knows-where, shouldn’t it be, ya know, guarded?”

“Well, not many know that the red sword can be pulled by a Teuton,” Mel answered. “Most people think it’s a Shlank relic and nothing more, so in theory it’s just sitting there uselessly. Honestly, I believe that myself to some extent. The only reason I can’t pull it must be because my soul is far too green for that filthy red thing.”

The bandit tapped his chin with a finger, thinking. “Hmmm, but what if a Shlank snuck in, aiming for it? It’d be Velagoras all over again, wouldn’t it?”

“That would never happen, though. My father knows about every person who travels through the walls, as well as the mountains. For example,” Mel paused, staring the bandit down with a raised brow. “He knew about the three mysterious figures matching certain wanted posters sent from the wall, who entered through the mountains just beyond the volcano several weeks ago.”

“Hohh, not bad! And here I was, thinking we went totally unnoticed here!” The bandit exclaimed in genuine surprise, though he didn’t seem bothered by the news in the slightest, his tone as loose as ever.

“Yeah, you’ll have to tell me what the central wall is like, sometime,” Mel replied shortly. “Anyway, that’s just one of several reasons why there’s no guard. These days, certain people in the castle might want there to be, but we don’t have the resources for it—as I’m sure you’re aware from your sneaking around…”

The man shrugged, sporting a modest grin.

“Another reason, well it’s just my opinion, but I think the whole ‘race’ idea is a farce,” he continued. “There isn’t any concrete way that the Heir is decided, and the sword isn’t some trial, just a possibility. It seems to be someone’s preference that they let things play out naturally, the opposite of what we’re trying to do. It pisses me off how vague Gambell and Valblin are when it comes to the Heir race; I think they must believe in a grand, inevitable scheme that naturally guides one of us to heirship—something in accordance to the Teuton Will. He can teach the ignorant fools that nonsense, and I’ll take matters into my own hands. I’ll retrieve the sword, use it to end the war, and prove myself as the Heir in doing so.”

“My, you have thought a lot about this,” the bandit said. “Anyway, looks like we’re here.”

The two stepped onto the small patch of weathered land, dragging the potato sack behind them. As the bandit opened up the sack and shook it as if the contents were actual potatoes, Mel scowled at the idle red sword before him. The many times he’d tried to unearth it came to mind, causing his lip to quiver.

Turning away from the sword with a flustered expression, he looked upon the teenage boy whom he’d marked as the first target. He was a noble who Mel knew well, someone that, despite being older than him, he knew would be an easy target due to his status—a messenger. The bandit had already untied his bound hands and was unraveling a thick wrap around the boy’s eyes and ears. Leaving a few layers, the bandit clapped his hands close to the boy’s ears. The victim jumped at the sound, and proceeded to flounder about like a newborn calf, groaning incomprehensibly.

“Looks like he’s as alert as we need, yeah?” The bandit looked up at Mel with a grin. Mel approached the boy, and gave the bandit a firm nod, leaving the talking to him.

“Alright, friend. We’ll be very quick here and get you home before you know it,” the bandit said calmly. “All you have to do is pull this stick out of the ground for us, okaaay?” The boy hesitated before giving a weak nod.

The two dragged him quickly to the sword and lifted him up. Placing his shaking hands over the hilt, they stepped back, bracing his wobbling shoulders.

“Alright, now, with aaallll your might,” the bandit cheered.

Putting all of his focus into his own Teuton will, Mel grasped both of the boy’s shoulders, as if to channel his own will into the boy’s.

The experiment was over as quickly as it had begun. As expected, it resulted in resounding failure. After several sheepish attempts, the boy began whimpering, and Mel decided to end it there.

While the bandits packed up their victim like he was a piece of baggage, Mel and Selmy lugged the raft into the woods and tossed it into a thicket of bush.

“Well then, we have to go and pick up our day’s pay now, so we’ll see the two of you tomorrow night for a strategy meeting, yeah?” the bandit said through a yawn.

“We’ll be waiting in the ruins,” Mel responded. “I already have the next target in mind.”

Brushing off his dirtied hands, he watched as Selmy patted her hands on thick boots that didn’t suit her, before trotting back to meet the retreating bandits. As she exchanged goodbyes with the two girls, Mel let a small chuckle out, before glaring viciously at the slightly moonlit sword in the middle of the small lake.

“Melll, are you coming?” Selmy called out excitedly.

“Yeah, I am…” he replied, colder than intended, before changing his tone. “Let’s try out that new technique of yours on the way, yeah?”

“Mm, okay!”

As the two sneaked their way back into the walls of High Town, they stopped at a grassy hill that overlooked most of High Town’s extravagant villas, as well as the distant castle, basked in distorted moonlight. Wiping sweat from their brows, they sat down to catch their breath.

“Is this… the trade off?” Mel panted, holding his head as he sat, elbows on his knees.

“It is… pretty difficult to keep up…” Selmy was in no better shape, leaning her right side lazily into Mel’s bent back as she rubbed her now bare feet.

“Yeah… I don’t think it’s worth the result. I need to be focused on other things, so you can continue practicing on your own, if you feel like it.” His labored voice sounded unusually warm, which prompted Selmy to raise her face, propping it against his sturdy back.

“Mm, I think I’ll do that,” she whispered, hiding a soft smile.

As if spotting her smile, he broke the brief silence.

“Say, Selmy.”

“Ah—yes?”

“I’ve put off asking this, but… how are you okay with… what we’re doing? I mean…” he paused to lower his voice, “kidnapping innocent people, forcing them like that, working with criminals… how can you smile through all that?”

Her mouth agape as if confused by the question, Selmy shifted to a slightly more upright position. “Umm… if you’re talking about right and wrong, then what about you, Mel? You’re not a criminal either, you know?”

“I certainly am now, for conspiring with bandits over this whole thing.”

“In that case, so am I for going along with it,” she responded without hesitation.

“But what I’m saying is that you were only dragged into it. You aren’t a conspirator or—”

“Well, weren’t you dragged into it, too?” she asked sternly. “If you hadn’t been kidnapped, you wouldn’t have had to come up with this idea. Even if you act so strong about it, you’re still a victim, yourself, you know?” Her tender words cut straight through the back she whispered into, rendering Mel silent.

This girl…

How is it… that she can make me feel like this?

“Well… I can only do it… because I believe in my father’s ideals.”

Nobody else… makes me feel safe enough… to talk about these things.

“Hmph, well then, I can put up with it because I believe in you,” she responded firmly, grinning. “Will that answer do?”

“Yeah… for now.” Mel buried his face into his arms, hiding a smile of his own.