Rathus paced the edge of the clearing, listening intently to the surrounding wilderness while the Princess unloaded the last bag of her luggage from his warhorse. Grue gave a tiny snort of relief as he was freed of his burden. Ruth rubbed down the horse's flanks and watched as Rathus completed his circuit of the treeline. The Gun Knight cocked his head and murmured under his breath, then started on another lap.
“You could have helped me with the bags instead of pacing like a worried dog, you know,” she admonished. Rathus came to a stop, his concentration broken. He looked over to the Princess as if he were surprised to see her.
“Ah, sorry about that.” He looked off into the forest, scrutinizing the distant trees. “Hrm.” He shook his head slowly. “I'll get started on the fire.”
The Princess sighed as she opened one of her bags. It instantly unfolded into a miniature version of an armoire, including a tri-folded mirror that sprang to full size as she flicked a switch. She fetched a comb from one of the mahogany drawers and teased at her hair, an especially cruel act, as it had clearly just been roughed up by the wind. She amused herself by complaining to Rathus.
“I still don't understand why we had to go out of our way to avoid the last town. I would much rather be sleeping in a hotel. Even a peasant tavern is better than sleeping on the ground, like a filthy animal.”
Grue snorted and gave her the side-eye, a move that was enhanced by the fact that his eyes were already on the sides of his head.
“Not you, Grue,” she apologized, patting his head. “I meant like Rathus.” Grue whinnied, mollified.
The Princess sniffed. “If I had known we would be roughing it, I would have brought my Pocket Mansion.”
Rathus set another smooth stone down, completing the ring of the fire pit he had made. He looked up at her, impressed.
“You have a Pocket Mansion? You're more well-off than I thought. Aren't there only six of those in the whole world?”
Ruth colored slightly, and cleared her throat. “W-well, no, truthfully, it's more of a Pocket Condo. Three bedrooms, three bath. It may be humble, but it's still better than dirt.”
“I do have a tent, you know. I don't just roll around in the mud,” Rathus replied indignantly.
“If we had stopped in the last town, we would both have beds, instead of me being reduced to sleeping in a dirty tent, and you having to sleep on the ground.”
Rathus sighed. “I take that to mean that you missed the stalls selling torches and pitchforks when we passed through the last town.”
The princess flipped her hair with a flip of her hand as she replied flippantly.
“I don't pay attention to peasants and their silly customs,” she haughted haughtily.
Rathus considered that, then chuckled to himself. “As far as customs go, I'd say that one in particular is one of the oldest and most traditional.”
The Princess sighed and rolled her eyes. She thumped the top of her luggage with her fist, and the mirror folded itself back up, as the mini-armoire snapped shut with surprising speed.
Ruth spread Rathus' jacket on a nearby stone, and primly sat atop it as she watched the Knight struggle with the fire.
“Can't you just shoot it and be done with it?” she asked with a sigh.
Rathus stood up and gestured to the fire-less fire pit. He looked to the Princess and affected the mannerisms of a lecturer.
“First of all, you shouldn't go shooting a gun when you're trying to hide away. There's a reason I brought us this deep into the woods, so that nobody can see our campfire from the road. If you shoot a gun, they know that you're around. If you shoot a gun twice, they know what direction you're in.”
Ruth stared impassively at him. “What if you shoot a gun three times?”
Rathus shook his head definitively. “Then you're wasting bullets. Anyways, it's not that I can't get a fire to start.” He held up the silver snap-top lighter he held in his left hand, as means of evidence. “It's that the wood is too wet to catch properly. If I was alone, I'd go looking for some drier wood, but leaving you alone probably...” He looked up at the forest again, and fell silent for a moment or two. He turned his head one way, and then the other, frowning with suspicion. “...probably wouldn't be a good idea,” he finished.
“Oh,” she said, “Is that all the problem is? I didn't realize an Imperial Gun Knight would have so much trouble with a little thing like that.” She gave Rathus a scathing look, filled with the most contemptuous sort of pity imaginable. Rathus shook slightly as memories of middle school rose to his mind, unbidden. He mastered his emotions, and put his hands on his hips defiantly.
“Go on then. I can tell when somebody is looking for an excuse to show off.”
Ruth flinched at his accusation, but gestured towards his lighter. “Go ahead and light that.”
Rathus regarded her for a moment, before shrugging. He tossed his lighter over his head, from his left hand to his right, and rolled it around his fingers before flicking it open with a final flourish. He gave a half-bow and flicked it alight.
“M'lady,” he said with expertly-crafted mock sincerity as he presented the lighter to her.
Princess Ruth grinned a smile at the Gun Knight, and cracked her knuckles. She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She opened her mouth, and the wind seemed to die down, the light seemed to dim ever so slightly. As Rathus watched and waited, the Princess began to speak. At first, she spoke with one hushed voice, then two, then many, speaking over each other and weaving in and out of hearing as the voices joined in a wild sussuration.
The voices spoke too quickly to hear, too mutely to make out any specific words. They spoke, and meaning was not comprehended from any sort of heard language, but was instead distilled directly into the mind. The voices spoke of heat, and warmth. Of light and smoke. Of life-giving comfort, and of destruction. They spoke of the inferno, of the cinders, of ash and tar and an elemental fury beyond pale. The Princess spoke all of these things in the space of a moment. One word rose above the rest, and only one word was comprehended, and truly heard. The Princess opened her eyes, and a light blossomed within them. Despite the rush of meaning, the chaos of sound, the Princess spoke only one word. This is what it meant, and this is what she Said:
“FIRE.”
The flames on the lighter guttered, then suddenly rose into a twisting pillar. Rathus jerked away, holding the lighter at arm's length. The flame danced into the air as Ruth held her hands high, and took the form of a dancing, snake-like dragon. It swept past Rathus, close enough to brush his hair, yet he felt only a gentle warmth. With a sweep of the Princess' hands, the flame serpent dove into the fire pit, crushing itself into rolling, undulating waves of flame. The wood hissed and cracked as the steam fled from it, and it started to burn in earnest.
Ruth flicked her other hand, and a long curl of flame whisked out of the fire pit, sweeping up the large logs that Rathus had gathered, and pulling them into the ring of stone. As Rathus watched, the flames subsided, pulsing smaller and smaller, until it finally settled comfortably into the gentle burning of a campfire. The Gun Knight flicked his lighter closed, and watched the fire in silence.
Ruth looked at him, a massive grin beaming from her face. She, too, remained silent. But she vibrated with a childlike anticipation.
Rathus tucked his lighter into his chest pocket, and tried to look casual.
“So,” he finally said, “You're a Namer?”
Princess Ruth exploded into sound and motion.
“Impressed, aren't you? You don't have to be coy, I know you're amazed!”
Rathus casually uprooted a stump and set it closer to the fire, sitting on it as he warmed his hands.
“My teacher told me that I was a prodigy, you know! I mastered the True Name of Fire in only two weeks!” she bragged.
Rathus whistled. “That is pretty impressive. I don't know much about naming myself, but I've heard it takes a long time to learn.”
“Oh ho ho ho~” Ruth said, out loud, putting the back of her hand to her face. Rathus imagined it was meant to be a laugh. He smiled genuinely. Escort duty wouldn't be nearly as bad if his ward was a Namer.
Traveling with a Namer was lucky. Not in any sort of superstitious way, of course, but when your companion can will Fire to obey her whim, and can call forth water from the ground, or command a fallen tree to right itself, your journey tended to have a certain improved quality of life. Heck, if you had a really good Namer, you could even...
Rathus interrupted his own train of thought, and Ruth, who was recounting the first time she successfully spoke the True Name of Fire.
“You wouldn't... happen to have a Book of Names on you, would you?” he asked, a spark of hope lighting his eyes.
Ruth snorted in a decidedly unladylike manner. “A Book of Names? Only a poor Namer would rely on such a crutch. I've learned all of my Names by memory. What kind of fool would flip through pages looking for a Name they can barely use, rather than calling upon the deep mastery of their craft at will?!”
She answered her own rhetorical, looking Rathus in the eyes with a severe determination. “An idiotic fool, that's what kind.”
Rathus shrugged trying not to let his disappointment show on his face. “You know, a Book of Names isn't just for reading. You can write in them, too.”
Ruth waved his suggestion off. “I'm not a Scrivener. I can just have the Court Scrivener take care of it if I need something Named.”
“Say,” she said, steepling her hands under her chin. “Do you know how many names I have memorized already? Hmm? Do you want to take a guess?”
Rathus tilted his head as if he was listening to something, then froze. Ruth took no notice, and continued to brag.
“Go on, Rathus, take a guess!” She prodded.
The Gun Knight said nothing, and listened intently. He slowly lowered his hand to his hip.
“What, you don't want to guess?” The Princess teased. She stopped as she noticed his strange behavior, and furrowed her brow. “Are you... feeling-”
With an audible snap, Rathus whipped his revolver from his Holdster. He fired once, point blank towards Ruth's face. The sharp peal of ringing metal screamed out as Rathus rolled forward. Before the Princess could even react to the noise, the Gun Knight was already rolling to his feet. As he rose, he fired three more shots off into the trees. The crack of his gun echoed around them as Ruth slid backwards off her perch, yelping in surprise.
Rathus held his gun at the ready, slowly turning as his eyes darted this way and that through the forests surrounding them.
“What was that for?!” The Princess demanded, lifting herself from the ground.
“Stay down,” Rathus ordered. “We're under attack.” He carefully bent down and grabbed one of the smooth stones from the edge of the fire pit, moving it and setting it aside. The Princess' eyes widened. “Really?” She looked around, peering fruitlessly into the trees. “Do you think it's brigands? Or maybe an angry mob of peasants?”
“Stay down, I said!” Rathus hissed, “I think it's worse than that.” He pointed at a small piece of metal glinting in the dirt. Ruth leaned around the corner of the rock to get a better look. There was a steel throwing star on the ground, bent from where a bullet had impacted it. It was a four-pointed star, with each point immaculately carved into the sneering face of a dragon.
“Don't touch it,” Rathus advised. “They often poison the edges.” Suddenly, the Gun Knight whipped his head, and fired two shots behind Ruth. Two more shuriken spiraled through the air, halted from their course by the bullets. Rathus bent down and seized a small log from the fire, before vaulting over Ruth's hiding spot. As he leapt, he snapped open his revolver with a flick of his wrist, and let the spent casings tumble from the cylinder. Ruth ducked as the Knight swept over her, and landed behind her.
Rathus held the log ahead of him, and twisted and tilted it, whipping his arm around to intercept another four shuriken, which embedded themselves deep in the wood. He tossed the log into the air, freeing his hand, which blurred to his belt. He snatched a speedloader from his pouch and slammed it into the revolver as his eyes traced something moving through the trees.
He flicked the speedloader aside, and reached up to grab the log, snapping the revolver shut with a flick of his other hand. He aimed backwards over his shoulder, and fired towards the ground, sending a shot ricocheting off of the stone he had placed earlier, and into the trees. He winced as the bullet skimmed harmlessly through the foliage.
Rathus stood, and gently pushed Ruth back down, interrupting her as she stared with a look of awe into the forest.
“This is so exciting!” She exclaimed. “Should I send the fire after him?”
Rathus' eyes bulged. “Please do NOT set the forest on fire.” he urged. The Princess tsked audibly.
“Besides, you wouldn't accomplish anything.” He told her, speaking in a quiet, calm voice. “There's only one type of killer that uses shuriken normally, and this one is too skilled to be some pretender.” Rathus paused to consider his choice of words. “Too skilled to be an imitator, I should say.”
Ruth looked at the shuriken embedded in the log, and gasped with realization. Her eyes began to sparkle.
“You mean that somebody sent a Chuunin assassin after me?!” She squealed. Rathus gaped at her, before spinning and firing two more shots into the woods.
“That's not something to be happy about, you know!” Rathus chided.
“Are you kidding?” the ecstatic Princess retorted, “It's like something out of a storybook! I knew it was a good idea to go with you. And you said it'd be a bad idea!”
The Gun Knight screwed up his face. “Don't gaslight me, young lady.”
Laughter pealed from the woods around them. A shadowy figure appeared, watching them from a bough high in the trees.
“You're... pretty good,” the voice said, a husky, muttering voice, of indeterminate age and gender.
Rathus said nothing, but pulled another speedloader from his belt.
“Stay your hand, noble Knight. I have no enmity with you or your bloodline. My quarry is the girl. I will not stop until her life is spilled. Leave us, and you live... but get in my way, and I won't hesitate to cut you down.”
The voice echoed around them, deep with menace. Ruth trembled slightly, despite herself. Rathus looked around the forest, keeping the figure in the corner of his eye.
“You've had the misfortune of seeing one of the Chuuni, but you may yet be one of the lucky few who has gone up against the very shadows and lived to speak of it. Throw down your weapon, and-”
Rathus interrupted the voice, firing his revolver into the woods behind and to the left of him. A hole appeared in the air on the edge of the clearing, and the air rippled and folded along with the surrounding foliage, as a painted sheet dropped to the ground. A young woman in dark clothing recoiled from the shot, reeling back.
“Holy Crackers!” The Chuunin assassin exclaimed. She leapt into the air and dove into the bushes, disappearing from sight. Rathus turned in the direction she had fled, and opened his revolver. He let the casings fall from the gun, but reached out to catch the two that had not been fired. He reloaded the revolver, tucking the empty speedloader and extra bullets into his pouch.
Ruth stared numbly in the direction the assassin had fled. The forest was silent, and after a time, Rathus relaxed.
“Seems like she left,” Rathus said, holstering his gun. “We should probably get to a town. The Chuunin have rules about involving innocents. That should give us a bit more peace of mind.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
He stretched, and kicked some dirt onto the fire. “I don't like traveling at night, but I'd rather do that then have a run-in with our Assassin while we're trying to sleep.”
“I'll go ahead and get your luggage sorted out. Get yourself situated for another ride. I know a place that'd probably be pretty friendly to us, but it's a bit out of the way.” Rathus bent and lifted one of bags and nodded to the Princess, who sat numbly on the rock, staring into the distance.
“Holy Crackers?” She asked nobody in particular.
******************
The Princess stared with a hopeless sort of despair as the pair rode into the small town of Mount's Ankle. The smell of manure mixed with the fresh mountain air, as goats gently screamed, and a cockerel got ready for the most exciting part of its day.
“Rathus, no.” The Princess said.
The pair passed a farmer, rising with the morning sun, who waved to them with a basket of baguettes and no shirt. He shot them a toothy grin, in the sense that he had a tooth.
“This town is bound to be safe from the Rebellion.” Rathus informed the Princess.
“Rathus, no.” The Princess insisted.
They moved into the town square, where the Town Minstrel was already breaking into a song about provincial life.
“I helped them out with a beef-related problem a few days ago, so I'm sure they'll be happy to help us out.”
“Rathus, NO!” The Princess pleaded.
The Gun Knight sighed, as the Princess looked aghast at her surroundings, inundated as they were with the concentrated essence of prole.
“Rathus, yes.” He said, with finality. “We'll only be here for a few days at most, Princess. You said yourself that you'd rather sleep in a dirty inn than on the ground.”
Ruth shuddered as they passed a butcher's shop, and the Village Sanitation Expert emptied the dumpster outside the village into the Offal Wagon.
“It pains me to admit it, but I am nothing if not responsible for my own shortcomings.” Ruth said, “And I must confess that when I uttered those words, I was yet ignorant to the depths to which the grotesques of the common folk could sink. I was young and a fool, Rathus. The fault is mine, I readily admit-” She recoiled from a small child, who held up an enormous rat, beaming with well-earned pride. “-for thinking that there was possibly a bottom to the pit.”
“Those are some very pretty words, when all you're saying is that you're too prissy to go on a proper adventure.” Rathus laughed. The Princess scowled at him.
“Nobody told me that adventures would be so dirty.” She insisted. “I mean, I'd read some stories, but that's a different kind – uh, er.” The Princess flushed and fell silent, shrinking in on herself.
Rathus waved at the Village Blacksmith, who let out a hearty shout when he saw the returning hero.
“What'd you say?” he asked, distractedly.
“Uh, j-just that I didn't know adventures would be so dirty,” She stammered. Rathus laughed amiably.
“Well yeah. Like you said, a whirlwind adventure. Anybody who's seen a whirlwind could tell you how much dust they kick up.”
The pair arrived at the Tavern, and Rathus helped the Princess off of his horse. The Village Valet lead Grue to the stables, and Rathus turned to his companion.
“Okay, let me handle things,” he said. “Make sure to keep your hood down. Remember: this is the part of the story where the Princess travels incognito as a young peasant girl.”
Ruth gave him a dubious look, but pulled the hood down over her eyes. “Don't think I can't see that you're trying to manipulate me,” she warned him. “Just consider yourself lucky that it's working.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Rathus replied, then shoved the doors open with a bang, stepping into the Tavern.
He let the stunned silence wash over him for a moment, as he stood with his hands on his hips. He stretched, and thumbed his noise as he hiked his pants.
“The Baron is dead,” he announced, puffing his chest out triumphantly.
The townsfolk stared in stunned silence at him, as he slowly smiled. The Tavernkeep dropped the glass he was holding, and it broke on the ground, along with the silence, as the Tavern exploded into noise and celebration.
Rathus gestured for Ruth to follow after him, as the townsfolk swept him into a seat, and the Tavernkeep let out a riotous laugh, pulling up a keg and announcing a free round of the good stuff to the gathered crowd. This was met with even more thunderous applause, until the Headman stepped in.
“Our hero returns to us, victorious once more!” the Headman Bosman announced to the tavern. “But I'm sure he's weary from his journey, through day and night, and in need of sleep! We will prepare a feast for him this evening, but for now, we should let him rest!” The tavern grumbled, but accepted the Headman's words, and went about their business after taking turns at shaking the Gun Knight's hand.
After the last had passed, Rathus went and pulled up the seat next to the Headman. “Not that I don't appreciate, Headman, but...” He chuckled, and leaned in to speak confidentially. “ 'In need of sleep?' You do know what I am, don't you? I had thought you were familiar with-” The Headman raised his hand for Rathus to stop, and nodded quickly
“I'm well aware, Sir McGaff,” he said, “But we aren't all Imperial Knights. And you didn't have a follower when you left.” He gestured surreptitiously to Ruth. “If you pulled into town this early, you must have been riding through the night. A normal girl can't keep up that sort of pace.”
“Just call me Rathus.” Sir McGaff replied, with a hint of irritation. “But, yeah, I was looking for somewhere safe for her to rest. I expect you can keep a secret?” He asked, lowering his voice. The Headman nodded discreetly.
“She's actually a Noble.” Rathus admitted, “And I think her life might be in danger.” He neglected to share the specifics of the attack, for which he felt a bit guilty, but the less specifics he gave, the better it would be for the people of the town.
The Headman scratched his beard. “We only have a few guards here in town, and a few dusty rifles. I'm not sure how much help we would be, but if you need a room, we can find you a good, comfortable one with no windows. Do you need to sleep as well?”
Rathus shook his head. “Not yet. It's only been a few days. I can keep watch.”
The Headman grunted his approval. “Good! In that case, I'll have the Tavernkeep set her up with a room.”
Rathus stood and shook the Headman's hand. “You have my thanks,” he said, giving his thanks. The Headman laughed and gave the thanks back, plus tip. “No, you've done more for us than we can properly thank you for. It's only natural to try and pay it back any way we can.”
Rathus went to Ruth, and explained the situation. The Tavernkeep showed them to a room, where his daughter was busy swapping to their best sheets. Ruth protested, but even as a Noble, she found herself struggling to stay awake, and eventually relented. She shooed Rathus from the room, and the Knight sat outside the door, keeping an ear out for trouble.
After some time, the Tavernkeep brought him a chair and a small table, and Rathus set to cleaning and maintaining his guns. He spent the next six hours this way, with an occasional break as the Tavernkeep brought him food or drink, and once to sign a local guardsman's gun, and a local mother's newly born child.
The Princess finally left the room, looking refreshed, and freshly clean and groomed beneath the woolen cloak she wore. Rathus glanced at the bright, emerald green silk dress she wore under the nondescript cloak, but just sighed, and bit his tongue.
“Welcome back,” He greeted. “If you're hungry, there's bound to be food downstairs. I hear they're setting up for a party.”
Ruth opened her mouth to say some choice words about peasant food, but thought better of it, and shook her head. “I will endeavor to brave whatever...” she grimaced, “local delicacies these fine people have provided for us.”
The two went down the stairs, and Rathus nodded to the gathered group. The festivities proper were not due to start until sunset, but a few people had gathered for a late lunch. Rathus smiled as the Village Tour Guide looked up from her meal and noticed him, her eyes widening.
“Oh, you ARE back!” She chirped. “I heard that you'd arrived, but I wasn't sure if you were still here.”
The Gun Knight smiled and spread his arms demonstratively, gesturing to his all of him.
“Here I am.”
“I'm glad,” she smiled. “I was hoping to see you before you left.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, and brushed at her lapels as she spoke.
Rathus shot her a winning smile as he sat down, causing her to blush. Ruth sat next to Rathus, and gave him a withering look. “Do you usually go around flirting while you're on guard duty?” she hissed under her breath. The Gun Knight merely shot her a mysterious smile and a shrug.
The Tour Guide pushed her plate aside, and stood up from the table. “You know,” she began, looking away from the Knight, “You never actually finished the tour the other day. We just stopped at the cave. I was hoping to show you the rest of the mountain. There's a couple places I think you might like.”
Rathus tilted his head with a grin, and looked the Tour Guide from head to toe. He chuckled to himself.
“I think I'll take you up on that now, if you're not busy," He said coyly. The Tour Guide gave him a wide smile, and flushed as she nodded emphatically. “Now? I mean, o-of course! I'd be more than happy to show you around the mountain!”
Ruth muttered something with a sigh, and Rathus shot her a look. “That's hardly language a young lady should be using,” he admonished. She rolled her eyes at him, leaning back in her chair.
“But excellent wordplay nonetheless,” he admitted. “The bit about a bush was pretty good.”
“So, um,” The tour guide began, “If you want to start the tour, we can start at the market square.”
Rathus stood, and turned to tell Ruth to stay put, but the Princess had already risen from her seat. “I'll come too.” She said. Rathus winced, and shook his head. “I doubt it's something you'd be interested in.” he said, “Mostly just wildlife and plants and uh, rock art.”
The Princess glared at the Imperial Knight as she walked over to him. “Nonsense. I love... tree. I love... caves and... and rocks and things like that.” When she got within earshot, she hissed, “Are you SERIOUSLY trying to ditch me here?”
The Tour Guide looked a bit disappointed, but didn't miss a beat. With consummate professionalism, she smiled at Ruth, and said, “Of course! I'd be happy to give you the tour!”
Rathus sighed to himself.
****************
“And here is the tallest tree on the mountain!” the Tour Guide said, gesturing to a tall sequoia on the edge of the path.
“Amazing!” Ruth said, with exaggerated awe. “It's so tall!”
The Tour Guide smiled at the Princess. “It is, isn't it!”
Rathus stretched, lifting his arms wide as he yawned.
“I must be feeling it a bit more than I thought,” he admitted. “Mind if we take a break?”
The Tour Guide gave him a nod, and guided the group to a small set of stumps nearby.
“This is actually an approved rest spot!” She informed them, “We have a lot of avid hikers in the village, but when they get on in years, they like to come up here and watch the sunset.”
Rathus looked out over the mountain view, breathing deeply. “It's nice and peaceful here. Can't hear any of the clatter from the village.”
The Tour Guide grinned at him. “Yes, it's an excellent place to come if you want some solitude.”
Rathus returned the grin, then looked at her curiously.
“You'll have to forgive me, but my memory isn't the best,” He said shyly. Ruth looked up at him, confused.
“But, who did you say you were?” he asked, giving her an apologetic smile. The Tour Guide blushed.
“Oh, did I not tell you my name? I thought that I had, it's—” Rathus interrupted her with a friendly laugh.
“No, no, that's not what I meant,” he chuckled. “Y'see, the last time I was here, a certain lovely young lady took me on a tour of the mountain. The mountain was pretty, but the sky was nowhere near as blue as her eyes.”
The Tour Guide blushed and laughed. “Oh, stop it!” she said, bashfully.
“And the snow on the mountaintops,” he continued, “was nothing compared to the luster of her skin.”
Ruth gagged quietly as she folded her arms. She had a suspicion Rathus was trying to drive her off, but she wasn't about to let him get rid of her so easily.
“The flowers were nowhere near as bright as the rubies of her lips,” he continued, gazing into the Tour Guide's eyes as her complexion also turned brighter than the red flowers around them.
“But most important of all,” Rathus whispered gently, as the Tour Guide drew closer to him, “Most importantly of all...” He laid his hand on the Tour Guide's knee, causing her to freeze, and her breath to catch in throat.
“She had a scar just above her knee, on the left thigh.”
The Tour Guide looked down, as Rathus moved his hand from her unmarked knee. She said nothing.
“So, what I mean to ask is: 'Who are you'?”
The Tour Guide looked up at Rathus and smiled weakly.
“Sir McGaff, I-”
There was a blur of motion, as she sprang to her feet and pulled a shuriken from her pocket. She drew her arm across her chest to throw it, and Rathus leaned back, kicking a log and sending it bowling into her leg. She stumbled forwards, dropping her weapon and leaning into the motion, recovering and turning it into a front-flip.
The Chuuni kicked her heels together, sending a knife springing out of the heel of her boot. She swung her legs, bringing them down towards Ruth.
Rathus spun from his seat, grabbing the assassin by the front of the ankles. He hauled her by the legs over his shoulder and continued into a somersault, slamming her forcefully onto her back before finishing his roll, pinning her arms with his feet while he sat on her stomach. He pulled his revolver out and nestled it under her chin.
The Tour Guide's face began to melt, along with her clothes, as her image blurred and steamed away, to reveal a young woman with platinum white hair. She was wearing a dark outfit, black as shadow, with a ragged cloak that seemed more of a hooded scarf, which was itself dyed a deep and bright color that would probably be described as “blood-red”. Her hands were wound with bindings, which had strange characters inscribed on them. Rathus stared down at the would-be assassin, who glared at him with one green eye and one purple eye.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “Time for-”
“WHOAH!” Ruth shouted. “That was amazing!”
“Thank you.” The Chuuni said, beaming. Rathus shot her an incredulous look.
“Did you know she was the assassin the whole time?” Ruth asked him. “I didn't even realize, I thought you were just being a gross, pervy old man!”
Rathus sighed to himself.
“I am a professional, you know,” he said, indignantly.
“Hey, me too. Club professionals.” The assassin chimed in, happily.
“Anyways.” Rathus growled, shaking his head. “Time for answers. Tell me who are, and who you're working for.”
The Chuuni laughed at him. “In my clan, the Children of the Dragon, I am known as Duskstrider. To the tongues of the Ancient Dragon Shaman, I am 'Me Lathor, She Who Dances Amidst the Flames.' In the hushed alleyways of the Grand Metropolis, they know me as 'Lady Shade.' In the foulest, meanest dockside bars, they whisper about-”
“What'd your parents name you?” Rathus asked, interrupting her. She blinked up at him.
“Nina, sir. Nina Janin.”
“Right,” Rathus said, “Well, Ms. Janin. Who hi-”
“You can call me Nina, if you want to~” she blushed. Rathus rubbed his forehead with his free hand, but held the gun tight against her neck.
“Ms. Janin,” He said, more firmly, “Who is it that hired you, exactly?”
“Oh, that's easy.” Nina scoffed. Ruth suddenly leaned in closer, waving her hands to silence the Chuuni.
“No, no no! You can't just tell us, Duskstrider! You have to give us a vague, ominous hint.” Nina stared at her, mouth agape. Her eyes went wide with realization, and she nodded firmly.
Rathus stared at a location approximately three miles through Ruth's skull.
“No,” he managed, weakly, “Please, just tell us exactly who-”
“Sorry. You heard the Princess. She's the boss.” Nina rejected, attempting, and failing, to shrug.
Ruth lifted her head, proudly, and Nina, emboldened, continued.
“The woman who hired me, she was mysterious, but powerful. Among the stacks of tomes, she called me, and in forbidden texts and jewels did she pay me. I can't say any more, because I fear for my life, for you see, she had captured an image of my soul in the crystals she wore at her waist, and swore that she would sing the 7 Songs of Undoing that would unravel my very being should I betray her.”
Ruth made a strange, enthusiastic sound, and Rathus saw her retrieve a notebook from somewhere on her person, and start to write.
“Seek out...” the Chuunin assassin whispered, “The one known as... the Archivist...” she gasped, then, and died instantly.
Rathus stared at her for a few moments, not moving from his position. He sighed. “You're not dead,” he informed her. “Nothing that happened just then would have killed you.”
“Yes, but I should have died.” Nina admonished him, miraculously recovering.
“She SHOULD have.” Ruth chimed in.
“I can still fix that, you know.” Rathus said, cocking his revolver for emphasis. “You did try to kill us. You got a good reason why I shouldn't?”
Nina shook her head, looking aggrieved. “I would NEVER try to kill you!” she insisted. “I was only hired to kill the Princess. I mean, you're Rathus McGaff. THE Rathus McGaff!”
Rathus raised an eyebrow. “You've heard of me, then?”
Nina laughed, looking at him as if he were crazy. “Are you kidding? Of course I have! You're a hero!”
“Hm.” Rathus mused, nodding to himself in approval. He gave Ruth a cocky smile. “See? I told you that I was famous.”
Ruth rolled her eyes. “You're no Musashi.” She said matter-of-factly.
Nina arched her head back. “Oh, SHADOWS TAKE ME, MUSASHI!” She exulted, “Now that's a man!” The Princess leaned forwards, excited. “Right?!”
“I've got these stories, you know.” Nina said in hushed tones, “I actually happen to write-”
She looked up at the Princess as the young Noble held her notebook up to the assassin. She was silent, but her eyes told magnitudes, and the two felt at once a strong kinship, a particular sort of bond of shared taste known by very few.
“But, you know,” Nina informed Ruth, “Rathus has his qualities too. It's a different sort of taste. He may be rough around the edges, but-”
Rathus cleared his throat. Nina turned to him. “No, hey, look. I'm into it.” Rathus colored a bit, but shook his head and continued.
“Look, it doesn't change the fact that you still tried to lure me away from the Princess,” Rathus pointed out.
Nina rolled her eyes. “I already told you, I wasn't going to kill you. I was just going to drug you, and THEN kill the princess.”
Rathus started to protest, and she barreled over him. “And -full disclosure- I was going to drug you AFTER we did the, y'know.” She gestured with her hands, but considering that they were nowhere near each other, the gesture lost most of its meaning.
Rathus stared at her. “Even if you're telling the truth, you'd still be killing the princess. You can see why that's still a problem for us.”
Nina shook her head. “It's just a job, Rathus. It's nothing personnel. BUT, I'll be happy to let you know, that I'm going to go straight back to the Chuunin clans and have the job invalidated. The client didn't mention anything about having to deal with an Imperial Knight. That sort of lack of disclosure is a huge mark against the contract.” She gave a wan smile and looked over at Ruth.
“Besides, nobody told me that the Princess was so cultured. How can I kill somebody with such great taste? Say, have you read the story of Musashi and the Scholar Prince?”
Ruth gasped. “Oh, I loved that one! I ah, I have a few sketches that-”
Rathus sat and pondered the pros and cons of just leaving the two of them here on the mountainside as they discussed things that he did his level best to filter out of his hearing.
“Anyways.” He finally interrupted. “Against my better judgment, I'm gonna let you live.”
“I appreciate that,” Nina said frankly.
“It doesn't sit right with me to kill a lady that I've already subdued, even if you are a bloodthirsty assassin. Plus, I get the feeling it'd make Ruth surly.” Ruth considered it, then nodded.
“I'm gonna turn you over to the guards, and they'll hold you until the Imperial officials can come to put you away,” Rathus informed her, knowing in his heart that the odds of her actually winding up in an Imperial prison were probably pretty low. The pretense was there, at least, and if she was still going to come after them, it would amount to something of a headstart. The Gun Knight had a feeling in his gut, though, that the assassin was telling the truth. It seemed like the sort of thing that would fit into the strange sort or pride possessed of the various Chuunin Clans.
With his free hand, Rathus reached into his pouch, and pulled out a restraining device. It was simple in structure, but insidious in its nature. A long tube, made of woven paper. He slipped it over one of the assassin's index fingers, then grabbed her other hand, and tucked her other index finger into the other side. Nina gaped at it, as she tried to her pull her hands apart, but found that they were bound fast together, no matter how hard she pulled.
“Agh! I thought you were just going to use handcuffs!” she protested. Rathus laughed as he stood her to her feet, and began to frisk and disarm her.
She struggled with the finger trap, to no avail. “Yeah, I imagine that'll hold you for at least long enough for the Imperial Authority to arrive. Don't make trouble for the local boys, alright?”
Duskstrider, also known as Me Lathor, also known as Lady Shade, also known as Nina Janin, sighed as Rathus led her down the mountain. On the journey back, she and Ruth discussed a few of the finer points of literature, and of the best way to make ones outfit evoke an air of heroism and mystery.
Nina waved goodbye with both bound hands as the local guards locked her in the village's one prison cell. The Village Doctor was fetched, and he found the real Tour Guide, who had been left tied up in her closet, but otherwise in fine health.
With the rescue of the Tour Guide, and the thwarting of the Evil Assassin, the town celebrated with renewed fervor, as the sun set on the town of Mount's Ankle. Ruth even managed to enjoy the festivities, despite herself.
Rathus stared out the window, at the forest road which lay to the east. He had a feeling that —even if the Chuunin did make good and call off the contract— this journey was going to be more difficult than he thought. He silently cursed the Princess, as he made a mental note to ask some of his contacts about this “Archivist.” Tomorrow, the journey would continue, but for tonight, Rathus would take a moment to relax.
Far away, in the dusty tomb of the Great Library, a certain individual would be receiving some unfortunate news. Not quite so far away, in a brightly lit war room, a tall, handsome man was speaking with his trusted commanders, and cheerfully discussing the end of an era. And far in the distance, a man worked with possessed fervor, drawing the plans to bring into being a Weapon, one destined to forever change the face of the world.
But that was a worry for tomorrow.