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The Legend Of Black Eyes 166 The Merchant Robber Appears

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I finally met up with Osgar in the old port area then headed for the abandoned warehouse. The only reason I decided to come along was to understand why the merchant robber was after the old man. After we left the valley, she got in touch with us through some pa.s.sing merchant.

For a robber, she had quite the network among merchants. All our communication had gone through a network of wandering salespeople, either outside the city or within its tall gray walls.

"Let me do the talking," Osgar said as our meeting spot came to light. It was a large warehouse that had seen better days. It tiled roof started crumbling long ago. Its windows were barricaded with wooden plaques, no sign of gla.s.s on either one of them.

There were two enormous men by the only open door. Each of them kept their chests bare. They held some sort of long sickles in their hands. As we approached the door leading to the warehouse, the two giant hulks stepped forward, barring our way with their weapons.

"Yer in the wrong side of town friends," the one on my right said. He had a chilly voice and spoke as though every syllable inflicted great suffering to his meaty throat.

"Are yeh lost little lambs?" the other one asked. A vein in his forehead bulged, threatening to explode any moment.

"Crow got in touch with us," Osgar said in a hushed tone, almost a whisper.

The hulks exchanged worried looks then settled their wide eyes on us. They looked as though they received the most hilarious news of the day. Their eyes disappeared behind puffed b.a.l.l.s of meety cheekbones. Their nostrils inflated, and they both snorted at the same time. They started laughing then, in cruel high pitched explosions, each one louder than the last.

"Crow?" One of them yelled at us, wiping tears from his eyes. "What's two scrawny little men gotta –"

Both hulks stopped laughing at once. And before you get your horses riled up, it wasn't me. I didn't do anything. I didn't want to stir up trouble unless I knew what this whole thing was about.

A cleaver, about ten inches in length, a bit more than half of that in width, flew behind a laughing guard and settled between his feet.

"Get'em over here!" a voice, feminine and quite rough, shouted from the warehouse.

"Y-y-yes ma'am!" one of the guards screamed then b.u.t.ted the other with his elbow. The latter hesitated.

"Yer turn!" he hissed at the other.

"'Member the cronies?" he whispered.

"s.h.i.+t!" the other spat out.

"What's taking so long?" the feminine voice called out. "Move it!"

The guard on my right reached out for the cleaver and wrenched it out with a sigh. Then they led us toward the door. I could feel their glares at the back of my head all along. The merchant robber was mysterious, acted as such too. I never expected her to be this cautious tough. From the looks of it, not even her own men knew who we were.


The hulks left us by the door and retreated. We went in alone, toward darkness. It wasn't dusk yet, but the sun barely reached this part of town. More elegant buildings lined themselves in front of the old part of the port. Everyday, night would come to the old port earlier than any part of the world. The sun would disappear behind the high buildings, casting a terrible shadow over the poor and the homeless.

"They said Merinsk would greatly benefit from the newly established port," the feminine voice said as soon as we were completely emerged in darkness. "Look at what it did to this place."

"Are you the one they call Crow?" I asked.

"No," she said in a playful tone. I couldn't see her in that pitch blackness. She sure knew how to arrange a meeting and keep the upper hand. "I call myself Crow," she said. "Out there, I go by many other names, the merchant robber is the most recent one."

"Crow," Osgar intervened, "we agreed to meet by the light."

The thief chuckled lightly. Her rough voice suddenly turned tender when she spoke next. "You're a fool to come back here, Osgar," she said.

"The lights, Crow," he said, trying hard to make his voice sound threatening. It felt as though he was trying to act normal now. He always f.u.c.ks it up when he tries…

"Alright, mister I fear the dark," she said, chuckling. She clapped her hands and we heard the shuffling of feet around us. Soon after, we saw a spark, then another. Then a torch went up in flames, then another, then others. We were standing in a circle.

Half a dozen masked men surrounded us, holding torches in both hands. In front of us, a woman in a revealing black attire stood. Everything about her clothes reminded me of the shadow I had just killed. Only this one would have attracted my other sword's attention.

My heart beat a little faster. I remembered what I had done to the last person who wore such clothes. Did she know about it already? I couldn't tell. She looked pleased to see us anyway. She was evaluating me with her large eyes, looking me up and down as some of her hair flailed about. She had long auburn hair that she kept in a tightly knit bun.

"You're Mr. n.o.body," she broke the silence, observing me with large azure eyes. Her pleasant smile disappeared, replaced with hard looks. I answered her glare with a pleasant grin.

I liked the concept of suddenly disappearing from the face of the earth. The demons were no longer after me. The newspapers buried me. The Butcher of Solsalk was now a monster sent from h.e.l.l, to punish the mayor for abusing dark powers. The heroes were the guards and Bodrick's soldiers, who fought the beasts and drove them off the village.

There was no mention of the one-eyed devil anymore. Thanks to these recent events, I could move freely within Merinsk while the real Bodrick spent his days hidden away from the public eye.  

Crow walked toward me. I noticed that her steps never made a sound. She got closer to me, until our chests b.u.mped. I felt her b.r.e.a.s.t.s squish against my chest as she leaned in toward my ear. "You killed the wrong man," she whispered.

"Which one of them?" I asked, still grinning at her.

She chuckled. Her sweet laughing voice traveled through my ears, toward some part of my brain that deactivated my pragmatic thinking abilities. "Why are you after Bodrick?" she asked.

"Why are you?" I shot back at her. I couldn't afford being manipulated by women again.

"I'm after his fame and money, honey," she said in my ear. Her tender voice tickled the small hairs in my ear, sending gooseb.u.mps all over my forearm and back. She retreated away from me, slowly, breathing out into my neck, sighing as she straightned up.

"Your turn," she said then smiled. Deep dimples showed on her full cheeks. She put a finger to her hair and started rotating some loose strands. Her eyes shone at me expectantly. Man, it is hard to avoid being played by beautiful women.

"I'm after blood," I said, looking hard into her azure eyes. They twinkled as she smiled once more. She turned around then, looked at all the masked men around us then turned to me.

"You can have him if you help us steal something of his," she said.

"You don't even know where he's hiding," I scoffed. "That's about the only thing the merchant robber has failed at," I said, grinning, trying to provoke her. I needed to push her out of her act. Her eyes didn't waver though. I cursed inwardly.

"No one knows where that piece of sc.u.m is," she hissed. "Not even his daughter for that matter."

"Bodrick has a daughter?" I asked.

"You met her back in Sosalk," Osgar whispered to me.

"You mean?" I said. I had this strong urge to give my forehead a strong slap then. I wanted to go down on the ground and pound my head against it. I should have seen it, should have realized it.

"Why didn't you tell me back then?" I hissed at Osgar.

"I didn't have the chance to," he said.

"And after it all died down?" I said.

"I forgot," Osgar answered, apologetic.

He was a bit of an airhaid when it didn't concern women he liked. He knew everything about Zoey. I got to know her very well too, posthumously. I even know how many moles she had on her body… Don't ask.

"You understand now," Crow said. "Bodrick's a man of many secrets."

"Why the secrecy?" I asked. "Why pose as a barman, and bring his daughter along to serve drunken villagers? What's his endgame here?"

"The Holi Wars, obviously," Crow answered.

"Care to explain in longer, more elaborate sentences please?" I asked. Frustration started building up. With frustration came anger. And after anger came bloodl.u.s.t. I put my right hand in my pocket, and watched the thief with threatening glares.

"This world existed for millennia, maybe even longer than that," she said. "How many times do you think the Holi Wars had ever seen a Holus holder emerge victorious?"

"None?" I said, shrugging. "We're still all here, aren't we?"

"That's a logical conclusion," she said. "How do you explain the existence of other species then?" Crow asked.

"I don't know," I said. "What's this got to do with the Holi Wars?"

"Three," Crow said, approaching me and Osgar. "Three Holus holders have succeeded in merging with their gifts. The last one to manage such a feat was a human. That's why we live above ground, while others cower away from us."

"You still haven't answered my questions," I said, feeling a vein bulging on my forehead now. I squeezed the inside of my pocket, hard.

"The Holi Wars rarely have a victor from the Holus side," Crow said. "But they always have victors from the champions' side. Join forces with potential candidates, and you can guarantee your spoils at the end. It's called tactical partners.h.i.+ps. That's what Bodrick's after."

"As far as I know, Bodrick doesn't have a Fragment," I said.

"He's an old man," Crow answered, "on the verge of death. He aspires to bring his family name back to the top of the food chain though. He's doing it all behind the underworld's back. That's close to high treason, not to say worse in this case."

"The underworld decides who gets Fragments," Osgar added in. "I don't know how they do it, but they always decide who gets what. Who rises in power, and who falls."

"Bodrick found a way to circ.u.mvent them," Crow took over the explanation. "He's making alliances as we speak. If the Holi Wars start with his chosen warriors, he'll surely become the most powerful man in Biarkh."

"Where do you come into the picture?" I asked both Osgar and Crow.

"He's stolen something from me," Osgar said.

"Something that would help us reach the island of Milogac," Crow added in.

"What is it?" I asked. "Stop the mysterious act and spill the beans already," I added. "I won't help you unless I know what I'm getting into."

"How about an alliance?" Crow asked. "You help me out, I give a good word to the ghost captain for you."

"How do you know that name?" I asked. My eyes narrowed to slits. I could feel my right hand getting numb. I was squeezing it too tightly inside my pocket.

Crow smiled. "The same reason you know about it," she said.

"Are you saying you're a champion for the war too?" I asked.

She nodded, "A candidate, just like you."

"What about you?" I turned to Osgar.

He shook his head. "I just want what Bodrick took from me," he said.

"Here's my offer, Mr. n.o.body," Crow said. "Join me, and I'll tell you everything you need to know about the Holi Wars. Help Osgar and I steal what's ours, and I shall guide you to Milogac myself. What do you say?" she said, extending her hand toward me.

I looked at Osgar then at Crow. The vein in my forehead was about to pop. I looked at the torch holders, eyeing me with interest beneath their masks. I looked at the thief's outstretched hand then smiled.

"No deal," I said, putting both hands in my pockets.

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