Chapter 45: Dillard - The Merchant

“How wonderful to meet such a noble knight out here in the wilderness. You must be so very brave,” Dillard cooed.

The paladin had the gall to look bashful, “Ah, say nothing about it gentle lady. Tell me, what tragedy befell your intrepid caravan?”

Dillard gestured to the bodies lying on the ground, “We were attacked by bandits. My friends and I killed as many of them as we could, but I’m afraid one of them got away.”

“Ah,” Himbo looked off into the distance. Dillard could see his chin was sharp enough to cut glass and his eyes burned with the fury of a thousand suns. Dillard felt herself go weak in the knees. Am I swooning? She wondered, I feel like I’m swooning. I shouldn’t be swooning. I’m in control here, not him. He’s handsome, but not that handsome. She watched his eyes as they searched the horizon. They glint in the sun. His eyes really glint in the sun. He really is that handsome. I think I feel like swooning again.

Himbo turned his chiseled face to face her. She felt her knees buckle as he spoke. “Which way did the villains go?”

Well, if you’re asking, I’m right here. But we’ll get to that later my big hunk of man meat. She did her best to smile and bat her eyes as she pointed toward the woodline, “Off thataway.”

Himbo stomped over to the edge of the trail where the merchant’s boot prints were plainly visible in the wet grass. “Tracking does not happen to be my specialty, but it would appear this crook is even more ignorant of woodcraft than I am.”

“How fortunate,” Dillard hummed.

They followed the trail of muddy footprints through the trees and over a hill. The rain dwindled to a mist as they descended into a small valley. Himbo stayed at the lead as Dillard followed closely behind him. A sneaky smile painted her lips as she watched his backside. The man filled out his armor like a thing sculpted from marble. She couldn’t stop looking at him. It was as if the sun had dropped a man from the sky to protect her. She was infatuated.

The heavy rain returned as they climbed the second hill, falling in fat droplet from the trees. All around them, the forest had gone still and quiet. Nothing moved but for the rain and the leaves as the occasional gust shook the rain from them. Then a ghost. Dillard watched as an owl, white with flecks of brown, glided down from a pine.

Cresting the hill, Himbo stopped to survey the valley. Dillard crept up slowly behind him. It was strange being around a man so large who was on her side. She wasn’t sure yet how she felt about it, only that she liked it. Carefully, she peeked around his shoulder as she followed his gaze. Below, the valley was empty but for the canopy of leaves and branches. Then a shadow. The merchant was scrambling over the rocks as he struggled his way across a stream.

“That’s him,” Dillard whispered, her voice afraid. Her eyes turned upward to see Himbo’s eyes narrow. His eyes were glaring. She could see he was focused, angry, perhaps even murderous. This is going even better than I expected.

Wordless, Himbo stalked down the hillside. Dillard followed closely on his heels. She knew the paladin would make short work of the merchant if she could manage it. She just had to make certain the merchant didn’t say something stupid and mess everything up. She didn’t know if she had a plan after that.

Perhaps I could kill him if turns on me. However, as she watched the paladin’s broad shoulders dip between the branches, she felt a shiver of fear run down her spine. But perhaps not. I think this way is best. And besides, this is so much more fun than killing things myself. She had a new toy now, one she was loathe to give up.

They crossed the stream and found more tracks on the other bank. They were lucky. The merchant was getting tired and slow. Dillard could hear him crashing through the underbrush just ahead. Then he stopped. Panting and cursing beneath his breath, the merchant sounded as if he was beginning to sob.

“He knows we’re here,” Dillard whispered. “He’s trying to throw us off.”

Himbo’s eyes narrowed as he nodded. Silently, he slid his longsword from his sheath and lowered himself to a crouch. “Stay here,” he murmured.

“No,” she shook her head. “I must come with you. There might be others.”

Himbo seemed to consider this for a moment, but then nodded. Then they were off, slipping silently through the brush. As she quietly followed behind Himbo, Dillard’s mind spun with ways to ensure the merchant die. True, she could probably just leap forward and kill him herself, but that wasn’t the game. No, she wanted to try out her new toy, see exactly how useful he was, and the only way to do that right now was to have him kill the merchant. There was also the whole bonding aspect of it. The paladin was clearly protective of her. The maiden in distress and all that. Not a trick Dillard was used to pulling for more than an hour, but then again, if Dillard was anything, she was adaptable.

They passed through a grove of trees and then around a tangle of deadfall. Then they spotted the merchant’s shadow pass behind a bush and very suddenly Dillard had an idea.

“Be very careful,” she whispered. “He’s a spell caster who likes to lure his victims in with a story.”

Himbo’s eyes were suspicious, “How do you know this?”

“Because that’s how he lured our little caravan off to the side of the road,” she answered.

This seemed to satisfy Himbo who narrowed his eyes again as he gave his sword a little flip. Silently, the stalked through the grass. The rain was pouring now, covering their approach. Dillard could hear the merchant panting, his breath haggard and worn. His shadow quivered in the rain. Then a branch snapped beneath Himbo’s boot and they saw the merchant shoot upright, afraid.

The merchant squeaked, “W-Who’s there?”

“It is I, Himbo the paladin. Here to avenge the deaths of those you left on the road, you villainous miscreant.”

“Gagh!” The merchant cried. “I-I didn’t do anything!”

“You killed my friends!” Dillard cried, as mournfully as she could.

“W-What?” The merchant stammered as he emerged from the brush. The portly little man was shaking, his cloak torn, his boots covered in mud, and his clothing covered in branches and leaves from where he had fallen. “I-I … I didn’t hurt anyone,” he said quietly.

“Liar,” Dillard hissed.

“Surrender,” Himbo commanded, “or I shall be forced to subdue you.”

Surrender? Dillard had to stop herself from glaring. Subdue? What kind of idiot are you? She knew that if she let the merchant live, he would surely ruin everything. The last thing Dillard needed now was to be forced to come up with another story. Or worse, run. Think. There has to be something. Then she saw it.

“There!” She cried, pointing to the merchant’s hip. “That’s the weapon he used to kill us! Stop him before he uses it!”

It happened quickly then. As the merchant looked down to where Dillard was pointing, Himbo lurched forward, his sword at the ready. However, just as the paladin made his move, Dillard made as though she had panicked as she deftly moved between the big paladin’s legs, slipped, and fell right on top of his feet. Himbo, not seeing her, caught her shoulder with his shin, tripped, and fell forward. It was, for Dillard, a lucky stroke. As Himbo tripped and fell, the merchant turned to flee and ran square into a stump, staggering backward and right into the point of Himbo’s longsword.

The ground shook as Himbo and his plate armor struck the earth. Above him, the merchant was staggering, stumbling over the mud like a drunkard as his hands grasped at the sword point sticking out of his belly. The portly man gasped, whimpered, and finally fell. With a clank, the sword hilt bounced off the paladin’s pauldron. With a spasm, the merchant quivered and died.