//------------------------------// // Eavesdropping // Story: Death Be Not Proud // by ShinigamiDad //------------------------------// Reaper and Luna worked their way south for two days toward Rutze, following the natural slope of the downs and various streams, until they came across a series of ancient ruins and crumbling breastworks, buried under centuries of mould and forest growth. Luna dismounted, draped her cloak across Bitch’s back, and strolled into a small clearing next to a collapsed tower. She dropped her trousers and shorts, and emptied her bladder with a sigh. She looked around as she stood and pulled her trousers back up: “What was all this? It appears to have been destroyed centuries ago.” Reaper approached, opening the map as he walked: “Recall the scratched-out boundary lines on this map? This is that boundary.” “Between the Northern and Southern Dukes of the Midlands?” “Right. This would have been the agreed-upon border through this section of what was even then, likely unoccupied forest country.” Luna put her cloak back on and pulled a chunk of bread out of her saddle bag, splitting it between herself and Bitch. The dalzi stopped grazing, lifted its head and greedily took the bread from Luna’s palm. She laid her head next to the dalzi’s ear and scratched its neck: “Ten'ma du'ze, goz Tax'ar…” Bitch nickered softly as it chewed. Luna stepped back and brushed her hands clean: “Does this portend anything more? Might we come across a settlement or stray garrison?” “Unlikely. We’re only about a day away from Rutze, which is, essentially, a garrison itself--well, what’s left of it, anyway.” He took a drink from his wineskin and walked toward a gap in the breastworks: “However, it looks like we’re about to pick up that road fragment that intersects outside Rutze. Our travel should be somewhat less bumpy going forward.” “But will it be less observed?” “What do you mean?” “We are being followed.” Reaper turned slowly and nonchalantly, scanning the nearby trees: “For how long?” “At least the second day out from Rixk’a.” “How close?” “I estimate he is keeping back around one to two-hundred yards at any time. I never see him directly, but I catch fleeting glimpses of a body shape slipping between the trees.” Reaper pulled his sword from his belt, crouched and began preparing kindling and tinder for a fire: “Let’s stop here for the night and see if we can’t lure him in.” Luna nodded and hobbled the dalzi together while Reaper laid out a ground cloth and blankets, and walked to a nearby stream to fill the water bottle he had brought from Equestria. He built up the fire while Luna removed the dalzis’ tack and bags: “How do you suggest we do this?” “If we create enough of a ruckus--like we’re fighting--and make it look like you’re injured, I can go off after Bitch, and maybe he’ll come in close enough for you to take him down.” “Bitch?” “If we loosen her lead and leg strap, I can shoo her away, adding a distraction, and giving me a reason to leave you as ‘injured’ bait.” Reaper looked up at Luna: “Will that work? Will you be able to get Bitch back alright if I run her off?” Luna furrowed her brow and looked at her dalzi: “Yes. I have no doubt she will come to me.” “Good. Well then, take a seat and have a bite to eat. We have a big fight to get into once the sun sets in about an hour.” Luna smiled and took a piece of dried fruit: “Whatever shall be the cause?” Reaper chewed on a bit of cheese thoughtfully: “Hmm. Let’s see, what would likely be the most interesting thing someone eavesdropping could hear?” “A lovers’ quarrel of some sort. Salacious details. Hurled insults.” Reaper nodded: “That’ll work! It gives me the perfect excuse to strike you down, apparently injuring you, and frightening off Bitch. Then I can run after her while you ambush our shadow.” “I presume, since this is for public consumption, as it were, that we will need to shout in the local tongue.” “Right. I mean it’ll be pretty clear we’re fighting in any event, but his ability to understand words will help pull him in.” “Unless he is a professional…” Reaper smiled and swallowed a mouthful of water: “True. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Luna squinted at the westering sun: “So what will be the proximate cause of our quarrel?” “I guess I’ll try to force myself on you, you'll get angry, I’ll demand you ‘live up to your obligations,’ you’ll hit me, and so on.” Luna nodded, then stepped quietly up to Bitch, loosening her lead and removing the restraint on her leg. Colt shifted nervously, and Luna soothed him before returning to the bedding. Reaper fussed about and got under the blankets noisily, then turned to Luna in a low voice: “How far off is he now? Can you tell?” She settled beneath the blankets as well: “He appears to have closed in somewhat. The fire is low, but lies between us, and I suspect he cannot see us well. Perhaps under a hundred yards.” Reaper draped an arm over Luna’s shoulder and pulled her close: “If this works, you’re going to have to knock him out. Will you be able to do that?” Luna smiled: “The only man I have met yet on this world I was unsure I could defeat was the blacksmith in Rixk’a!” Reaper chuckled softly: “Even me?” Luna nodded: “You have acknowledged that you were never the fighter type.” “True.” They lay quietly for several minutes as the sun slid behind the surrounding hills, and a fresh flurry of snow began to drift from the clouds. Luna looked over her shoulder at Reaper: “Shall we?” Reaper pushed Luna onto her back and climbed on top: “Come, woman! You have resisted your duty long enough! You knew what was required of you when we left Zaldun!” Luna pushed back, trying to roll Reaper off. They tussled noisily: “‘My duty?’ My duty as T’zesa is to Zaldun and the Throne, not to lackeys and mercenaries!” “It is well I am a mercenary, and as a result have the money to support your outrageous habits!” Luna pushed Reaper aside and sat up, glancing quickly toward their quarry’s hiding place: “You are one to talk about outrageous habits! How much money have you wasted on wine and zaka and gods-only-know what else?” Reaper lunged forward, twisting Luna to her side so she was facing their pursuer directly: “And that ridiculous, exorbitant garb!” Luna shoved away and rose to her knees: “I am a Princess! I have every right to dress in the grandest style! I am not some mere parzaile!” Reaper stood, looming above her: “Parzaile be damned! You’re little better than a common galdu!” Luna’s eyebrows shot up and she fell back into pony speech: “‘Whore?’ Really?” Reaper shrugged: “Sorry--roll with it!” Luna rose and drew her sword: “You would naturally think of galdu! No woman would willingly touch you unless your gold touched them first!” Reaper grinned: “Touché!” Luna backed up a step and leveled her sword with a smile: “Roll with it!” Reaper yanked his short sword from its sheath and slapped away Luna’s blade: “Be sure to smack the flats together whenever possible--there’s no need to nick-up the edges!” Luna nodded and pivoted suddenly to his left side, slamming the flat of her sword against Reaper’s backside. He hopped back a step: “Fuck! That hurt!” “I believe we are striving for verisimilitude here, yes?” Reaper lunged at Luna, bringing the hilt of his sword down on her elbow. She cried out and dropped her sword: “How dare you!” He drove his shoulder into her chest: “Go down--twist away from our visitor as you fall!” Luna dropped heavily to the ground as Reaper aimed a kick at her abdomen, driving his foot into a lump of blankets. He then swooped down, picked up Luna’s blade and stepped over her prostrate form, turning around as he did so. “Fucking cunt! I’ll teach you to draw a blade on me!” Reaper drove her sword through the blankets directly in front of her chest, into the ground beneath with a thunk. Luna let out a bloodcurdling shriek, and wrapped her blanket-entangled arms around the sword, pulling it down, and tucking it against her body. Reaper staggered backwards as she curled in on herself, catching his feet with her shins. He scattered the fire, flailed wildly and slapped Bitch on the flank. The beast, already disturbed by all the commotion, shied, pulled her lead free, and bolted, with Reaper staggering and cursing after her. “Don’t you dare run off, you dumb fucking beast! You cost a small fortune!” Luna heaved and cried out feebly as she rolled partially onto her back. She cracked her right eye half open and waited. As Reaper crashed off through the underbrush toward the ruined breastworks in pursuit of the wayward dalzi, a hunched, cloaked figure worked its way furtively across the final fifty yards of tall, brown grass, stopping at last next to the spilled packs, embers and disordered blankets littering the ground next to Luna’s inert body. The figure took a final, tentative step forward and bent down: “T’zesa?” Luna suddenly rolled over to her back then her hip, swinging her cloth-wrapped sword in a low, wide arc, ending across the back of her target’s knees. The man gasped and went down hard, tumbling awkwardly across his opponent's body. He shoved a hand against the ground in an attempt to right himself when Luna drove her elbow hard into his temple with a sharp thud. The man collapsed at once, and feebly raised his hands to ward off another blow. But Luna did not strike a second time. She quickly disentangled her legs, pivoted around and up onto her knees. She bent forward, dug her fingers into the hair behind her opponent's ears and lifted, then slammed his head down onto the ground. His eyes rolled up and his body went limp. Luna let out a sharp breath, stood, re-sheathed her sword and straightened her cloak: “Reaper! Please return--I have incapacitated our quarry. It appears to be our missing Guardsman, Zain.” Reaper’s muffled voice came from a distance: “Zain? Well, that solves one mystery. Guess we need to find out who sent him.” Luna turned to face the sound: “Is Bitch alright? I am coming to retrieve her now.” Reaper struggled free of some entangling brush and brambles: “Hold on, let me come back there first--I’ll need your help for a minute!” Luna looked down at Zain’s glazed, half-lidded eyes: “Hurry, please! I am unsure how long he will remain immobile.” Reaper shook free of the last branches blocking him and jogged back to Luna and her captive: “Damn, Luna! Did you kill him?” “No, though I may have been a bit overzealous.” Reaper shook his head and began rummaging through a saddlebag, pulling out a length of rope: “Well, as long as he stays ‘immobile’ for another few moments--get him up against that tree...” Luna slid her hands underneath Zain’s arms, dragged him to a nearby tree, and wrestled his limp body up with Reaper’s help. She held him in place as Reaper lashed Zain’s wrists together, throwing two loops of rope around his neck, and securing the rope over a branch with a tug. He pulled hard, suspending the captive from his now-stretched arms. The watchman’s head hung down limply. Reaper tied-off the rope and set about rebuilding and stoking the scattered fire: “Go ahead and round up Bitch; I have some business with our interloper.” Luna nodded and turned to find her errant dalzi: “I should be back shortly.” Reaper pulled out his sword, knelt by the fire, and slid its blade into the coals: “Don’t hurry back.” “Wake up, Zain.” Reaper splashed cold water in his captive’s face. Zain’s eyes fluttered open as he lifted his head and blinked as though still stunned. Reaper tossed a handful of water in the watchman’s face again: “Come--we have business to attend.” Reaper sat down on a nearby chunk of log, opened his notebook and took up a quill. He sat silently for a minute, scratching characters on the page, glancing up at Larg, which had just risen above the treetops. Zain watched in confusion for some time while chewing his lip. He finally broke the silence: “Wha-what do you want?” Reaper stopped writing and lifted his hand up and at arm’s-length, measuring the gap between the treetops and the large moon with one finger. “I wish I had proper instruments for this, but I’m afraid that without my hourglass, timing against Larg's rise will simply have to do.” “Instruments?” Reaper closed his notebook, stood and added several branches to the fire: “I regret that I was not entirely forthcoming with your fine town upon our arrival.” Zain pulled against his restraints, but this had the effect of tightening the rope around his neck. He stopped struggling. Reaper blinked slowly, then held his hand up toward Larg again: “I did not lie, exactly--mine was more a sin of omission.” He bent down and re-positioned his sword in the coals: “I made it sound as though Her Highness had come to us from Zaldun, seeking connection with the powers of these lands. In truth, I was sent by Yunada to see if there is any truth to the legends of Zaldun, and if so, to bring back an emissary.” Zain’s eyes went wide: “Yu-Yunada?” Reaper stood and brushed the ash off his sleeves: “Yes. And what sort of man goes on important missions for Yunada? What is such a man called?” Zain swallowed hard and licked his lips: “T-Tunzal…” Reaper smiled as he held his fingers up against the moon again: “Very good. Now we’re all on the same page, and I have enough timing measurements from the treetops to Larg. We can begin.” “Wha-what do you want?” “Hmm?” “What do you want from me? I can’t tell you anything!” Reaper raised an eyebrow: “Want? I want you to die slowly as I document it. I have never conducted a ‘procedure’ in the wilderness, and this will prove most useful.” “Procedure?” “Yes--I’ve always had a room or tent, and all my tools and pitch and naphtha and lead, and a table and a proper hourglass.” Zain began to shudder violently and struggle against the rope, again. “But a good Tunzal is nothing if not resilient, and his most important tools are his resourcefulness and his--” he smiled broadly “--creativity.” “Oh, by the Gods, no! What do you want to know? I don’t know anything!” “I want to know how long it takes you to piss yourself, how long until your first scream, how long until you empty your bowels down your leg--and how much.” Zain began moaning and panting. “And make no mistake: you will do these things. There is no shame in it--it is simply part of the process that will begin with me pressing this red-hot blade up under your scrotum until your manhood sloughs away (this will take several re-heatings), and end with you as a pile of greasy, burned bones.” Zain thrashed wildly: “Help! Oh, Gods please help! Where is the T’zesa? Surely she can’t want this!” “I have asked for the T’zesa to be absent for a bit. Subjects often find this sort of thing to be quite humiliating--especially in the presence of the opposite sex-- and that is not my intent.” He turned and held his fingers up against the moon again: “The gap’s now between two and three-finger’s-thickness. The night is running swiftly, and this is going to take some time, so let us begin.” Reaper bent down, pulled his sword from the coals, and stepped up to face Zain. He grabbed the watchman’s belt and tugged it free. Zain let out a strangled cry as a dark stain spread down the front of his trousers. Reaper stepped back with a frown: “You could have waited a moment, you know! Now I’ll have to wash these before selling them.” He grabbed Zain’s trousers and pulled them down, bringing the red-hot steel close to the horrified man’s loins. Zain’s eyes went wild and he began gibbering: “D-DUX’A SENT M-ME! I DON’T KNOW NUTHIN’!” “I know that…” “HE-HE’S TRYIN’ TO PASS INFORMATION ALONG T-TO YUNADA! HE WORKS WITH EVERYBODY! SELLS NEWS TO ALL SIDES!" “Zain, there is nothing you can tell me that I do not already know…” “OH GODS, NO!! HE-HE’S GONNA GO SOUTH, TRY TO MEET WITH YUNADA WHEN I GET BACK WITH INFORMATION! I SWEAR THAT’S ALL!!” Reaper stepped back a pace: “So Dux’a is having us tailed. Where did you pick us up?" Zain choked back sobs: “I-I left before you and waited on the east road. I saw you cut off and go south. I had to follow and see who you met or where you went…” Reaper nodded, then stepped in close, holding the hot steel near Zain’s face: “I am going to let you go, now. You will leave immediately and return, without delay, to Dux’a.” Zain stared in confusion. “I will inform Lord Yunada of Duxa’s double-dealing when I see him in two days. So you need to hurry back, because if Dux’a attempts to come south to meet Yunada, there won’t even be burnt bone left to return to Rixk’a!” Zain nodded rapidly: “I-I understand! I'll tell Dux’a! You won’t see me or him or nobody again!” “I’m sure I won’t.” Reaper loosened the rope, and unbound his captive’s wrists. Zain yanked his wet trousers back up and belted them, then suddenly lurched against the tree and vomited violently. Reaper smiled grimly and held his hand up to the moon: “Four full fingers…” Zain choked back a cry and stumbled away, heading back toward his hiding place. Reaper followed slowly, watching as the terrified watchman pulled on a travelling pack and jogged noisily away to the north. Reaper drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and popped several zaka leaves into his mouth, before turning around and walking back to the fire. As he approached he saw Luna straightening up the site, rearranging the blankets, re-securing the dalzi. Reaper sat down next to the fire and opened a saddlebag, pulling out a piece of dried fruit: “Please, take a seat, Luna. Have a bite of something--it’s been a hectic evening.” Luna nodded silently, then sat down across from Reaper, and took a drink from her wineskin. Reaper smiled: “How is Bitch? Not too traumatized, I trust?” “No, she is fine. I believe she was more annoyed than anything else.” Reaper spat the zaka into the fire and took a bite of fruit: “How about you? Are you OK?” “I too am fine. So you believe that Dux’a will be safe now? That he will not try to travel into what is about to be a war zone?” “Right, though that’s more of a bonus. I’m one-hundred-and-one percent sure Zain won’t even look over his shoulder until he’s back behind Rixk’a’s walls. Now we can get to and out of Rutze without any concern about wildcards or unwanted shadows.” Luna chewed on a chunk of dark bread and looked at Reaper thoughtfully for a minute: “Was that level of cruelty truly needed? Might he have not told us what we needed with a lesser application of fear?” “Fear takes time to properly apply and ripen, while raw, bowel-loosening terror is quick and efficient. Its shock wears off fast, rather like torture, and you can get false results, but in a case like Zain, where he gives up everything without even being asked, you can usually feel pretty confident about the information being truthful.” Luna furrowed her brow and chewed her lip: “You really would not have done those awful things, would you?” Reaper stared down at the fire for a moment, then looked up with a cold smile: “No, but Gerrar would…”