The Tale of Daemonica

Mercenary

   Daemonica walked slowly along the beach, her mind racing with diverse thoughts. She hadn't had a chance to think about what had happened to her and why it had happened to herself. It was like chasing a reflection off a mirror that someone was playing with without your awareness. Every time she felt she was beginning to understand something, she lost the thread of thought, as if she were constantly running into an insurmountable barrier that prevented her from embarking on a surely dark path of knowledge.

Her thoughts returned to the nightmares that kept torturing her. Some of them she remembered, others merely left her with terror and self-loathing. She might have killed the Beast in the desert, but since that night in Berim, she had never quite detached herself from it. This was only becoming apparent to her now when she could think about it in peace. Daemonica looked up at the night sky, which was dominated by the full moon, as it had been that night in the swamps. It was only one full moon, but now it seemed so long ago.

But there were still too many things she didn't understand. Daemonica's thoughts wandered back into the desert. When all the incomprehensible coincidences that had kept her alive, which she simply could not deal with then, had passed away, the night in the campsite always came before her eyes. She remembered the feeling she had when she had taken the life of the fat man, and the fear in the other's eyes. Slowly she began to understand that she had changed in some way.

Birds began to cry in the jungle she had been walking along. Dawn was approaching, and Daemonica could already see the outline of Roy stretching out towards the sea on the gentle slope of the rocky shore. Not long after, she was standing beneath the massive wooden palisade that encircled the city. The jungle in front of the town and around the palisade to the beach had been eradicated, and in its place, in the waking morning, it was possible to see more than a few huts adjacent to the town. Even pirates drowning in gold needed to eat and drink, repair their weapons, and buy new underpants. Outside the stockade, perhaps a fairly normal life ran, of course, as far as possible.

Daemonica moved quickly away from the guarded and illuminated palisade, not wanting to get into trouble at the outset. She walked away from the beach, sat on a small rock at the edge of the jungle, and looked around. The huge gate was not to be overlooked, nor was the forge, under whose open roof two men were already busy with work. Daemonica waited on the rock until the sun came up, watching thoughtfully as the hamlets under the palisade awoke. Then she walked slowly toward the forge. On the way, ordinary people and lowlifes passed her in a quite normal morning bustle. No one paid any attention to her.

Daemonica approached the tall, dark and curly-haired hulk who was wiping his hands on his apron. The other red-haired man was busy grinding a truly giant axe.

'Are you Cadmair?' She stepped right in front of the hulk.

'I am,' the man replied, glaring at her.

'I'm looking for work,' Daemonica said firmly. Cadmair scratched his ear, looking irritated.

'What about it?'

'I was told you might want some help.'

'Who said?' Cadmair said curtly. 'Who sent you here,' he growled.

'Vassiles,' Daemonica couldn't be intimidated that easily. Cadmair's dark bushy eyebrows frowned even more.

'Vassiles? He told you his real name?'The blacksmith looked genuinely astonished.

'I don't know,' Daemonica sneered. Cadmair seemed to be thinking.

'Very well,' he said after a moment. 'Bring me a hundred rat tails, I need them for armor lacing,' Cadmair looked at her innocently. Daemonica was confused. The red-haired assistant chuckled and shook his head. Cadmair let her stew in embarrassment for a moment longer, then laughed heartily at his own joke.

'If Vassiles sent you, he certainly has his reasons. I can’t see them. But okay. You find three guys, I know them. They stole my sword. The sword wasn't worth much, but they killed my messenger, he was still a boy. If you get the sword from them, it's yours.' Cadmair paused, but Daemonica saw she was still mulling over something, so she didn't interrupt. After a moment Cadmair looked at her earnestly and added: 'Don't kill the drunks, I don't want any problems here. All I want them is to learn a lesson.' Daemonica nodded. But the thought swirled through her mind of a little boy who had been needlessly killed for a bad sword. She had never been used to such things in her previous life, though she might have heard that they were happening.

The thought continued to throb in her head as she walked around the stockade and then along the rocky shore to the spot Cadmair had described. She found a small cave with a palm tree at the entrance, just as the blacksmith had told her, and entered it. Inside, she was treading carefully on a sleek rock with her bare feet. Soon she heard drunken male voices, and the atrocious stench was literally creeping into her nose. The passageway to the cave turned left, and beyond its bend she could already make out the light of the fire, with three filthy thieves half-sitting around it.

Daemonica was already quite close to the fire when they finally noticed her. Their astonishment was quite amusing.

'Which one of you is Nog?' She asked calmly as the cutthroats rose from the ground in confusion, weapons in their hands. Daemonica was not fooled by their seeming clumsiness. The three of them had undoubtedly been in more than one fight.

'What do you want?' Said the meanest and ugliest of them all.

'I want you to give me the sword you stole from Cadmair.' Cutthroat looked her up and down in disbelief. His eyes went over her tunic and trousers, which miraculously still hung on her in tatters, and stopped at her bare feet. Of course, he didn't miss the fact that she wasn't armed.

'Are you kidding me?' Nog laughed, along with the other two men.

The stench that lifted Daemonia's already empty stomach, the filth all around her, and the several times shitted Nog's pants were slowly driving her crazy. Taking advantage of their momentary inattention and completely contrary to their expectations, Daemonica leaped to the man on her left, who was closest to her. With her left elbow she scooped him under the ribs and caught his axe in her right hand, which he dropped in surprise. She pushed him away fiercely and jumped to the next man in line before he could react. In flight, she swung the axe and cut off his right arm, which held the weapon. The hand dropped with a thud into the silence that fell momentarily. For that brief moment, just the peaceful crackling of fire could be heard. Only then did the roar of a man who had just lost his arm shake the cave.

Daemonica stepped cautiously back from the circle to the opposite wall, from where she now watched impassively the cutthroat, who, with a steady roar of disbelief, stared at his severed hand as it lay in front of him on the filthy floor.

'You said, Nog?' Daemonica shouted to drown out the screams of the wounded man. Her face was calm to look at, but the blood in her veins raged even as her heart pounded at a steady pace.

The cavern fell silent again. The man without hand fainted. The one whose axe she took alternately looked at her, Nog and the hand of a comrade, which was still holding the axe.

'You ugly b***h!' Nog screamed and charged at her. Daemonica waited for him to get close enough and jumped aside quickly just before he reached her. On her way she struck the head of an unarmed man with the handle of his own axe as he was leaning above the dead hand of his comrade. Stunned, the cutthroat fell to the ground. Daemonica scooped up the arm with her bare foot and caught it in her left hand. She watched calmly as Nog pulled away from the rock he had struck after missing her in his failed attack.

'Cadmair told me not to kill you, I don't understand why. You didn't give that boy such a chance. I'll keep my promise, but I can't vouch for the state you'll be in when I leave this hole.' Daemonica said coldly. Nog was about to say something, but stopped as Daemonica started opening one by one the fingers on his buddy's axe.

'The sword,' Daemonica threw the limp hand at Nog's feet as she regarded him with her dark gaze. Angrily, Nog threw down his sword and kicked it toward her. Daemonica picked it up slowly without taking her eyes off Nog. Cautiously she took both axe and sword in her left armpit and turned to leave. She had heard the swish of the dagger Nog had thrown at her perhaps even before it left his hand. Daemonica stepped aside slightly and avoided it without difficulty. The dagger bounced off the rocky wall and landed a few feet ahead of her. As she walked slowly toward the dagger, she shouted over her shoulder to Nog: 'What do you think, Nog, can I also throw a dagger?'

Slowly she put down the weapons she was holding in her armpit and bent to the dagger that lay before her. She spun out of her crouch and hurled the dagger at Nog. TIt plunged into the groin above his right thigh. Nog began to scream in pain, but Daemonica could hear his wailing only from a distance on the way out of the cave, and it faded away when she left it.

When she was finally out in the fresh air, she had to lean against the cold rock of the cave entrance. An orderly heartbeat turned to the pounding of the drums in her head. Her eyes flickered. Fortunately, after a while, the craving for more blood began to fade. At last she picked up the weapons and walked slowly back to Cadmair.

Seeing her approach, Cadmair wiped his hands on his apron again in a learned gesture and watched her grimly. When Daemonica reached him, she threw both axes to the ground, at his feet.

'You look different somehow,' Cadmair's frown deepened. Daemonica ignored that and offered the sword in her hand hilt first to Cadmair.

'Is that your sword?'

'No,' said Cadmair briefly. Daemonica looked puzzled.

'It's yours.'The blacksmith grinned. Daemonica nodded toward the axes, a smile in her eyes.

'Do I get boots for this somewhere?' Cadmair laughed.

'Shoes and a lunch, I want to hear this first. Hey Geena,' shouted the blacksmith. A young, handsome woman in a blue tunic and long skinny trousers came out of the forge. First she looked at Daemonica, then her eyes turned in a stern glance toward Cadmair. But he was unperturbed.

'There will be one more for lunch.'

The woman frowned and, without looking at Daemonica again, she hissed: 'Have her washed first.'Then she went sullenly back to the forge. The smith laughed.

'That was my wife. She's a bit wound up, but she's a good woman. Well,' the blacksmith wiped his already clean hands on his apron again. 'I'll have to go calm her down. Go behind the house, there's water so you can rinse. Leave the rest to me.' Waiting for nothing, Cadmair went after Geena. The blacksmith's red-haired assistant, who had been listening intently to them all out of time, pretending to be working, grinned and began to clean up.

Daemonica went behind the forge, where she found several barrels of water under its roof. From inside the house came the voices of the blacksmith and his wife, who were clearly arguing. After a while, however, they fell silent. When she had finished washing and was about to leave to find Cadmair, a boy of about ten came running up to her.

'Mom sends you this,' he handed her a pile of clothes and shoes.

'Thanks, kid,' Daemonica looked surprised.

'My name is Arian. I heard you killed three men unarmed.' The boy's eyes showed boundless curiosity and enthusiasm.

'I didn't,' Daemonica replied calmly. She didn't like Arian's interest in violence, though she understood that on an island full of thugs this was probably a matter of survival. She wanted to change, but the boy would not leave. He watched her with a cheeky grin. Daemonica returned his gaze. After a moment Arian gave up and ran away with a shrug. Daemonica dressed in a loose white tunic and brown skinny linen trousers sent by Geena. The shoes were a little big, but they were firm and comfortable. The blacksmith added a leather belt to which she had attached the sword and set off for the forge.

When she stepped inside, Geena was already setting the meal. Her hair was tangled, and the smith watched her wistfully. Then he turned to Daemonica and invited her to the table, where beside him sat the red-haired assistant and little Arian. They ate in silence. When they had finished, Geena got up from the table and, before she began to clean up, slammed a large pitcher of beer on the table.

'Now tell me everything,' said the blacksmith, taking a long drink.

So Daemonica told him all that had happened in the cave. When she finished, Cadmair looked satisfied.

'Good thing you listened to me. Now I'm gonna tell you why I didn't want you to kill those lapdogs,' Cadmair looked sly. 'By night, everyone in Roy will know about you,' he said, pleased with himself. Daemonica raised her eyebrows in astonishment at the blacksmith's wit. She immediately realized that her actions would thus open the door to opportunities that could bring her considerable profit in a much shorter time than she dared to hope. Cadmair told her to tell the guards at the gate that he was sending her. He also mentioned the pub at the dock where the merchants who came to Roy were staying, so that it was at least a little decent place, where she could sleep in and wake up alive in the morning, even if the relative safety was matched by its prices. He also gave her some money, which he claimed was the rest of the value of both axes, minus the expenses of the equipment Geena had given her. Lunch was said to be free of charge for a 'merry' storytelling.

Daemonica warmly thanked Geena for her lunch and equipment, she gave her, but she looked as inaccessible and angry as ever. Then she bade farewell to the blacksmith, who assured her that he would be happy to buy any weapons or equipment she 'stumbled upon' and set off toward the gate to Roy.