ERIC

  The afternoon light fell through the Porkwood trees, sending ripples of pink onto the winding path. Eric ignored it. Just put one foot in front of the other, he told himself. His feet burned in his shoes, his back ached under his haversack and his knees screamed for him to stop. But he refused. It was what he deserved. He’d been walking from Porkhaven since dawn, which made it possibly the longest walk he cared to remember. He didn’t have much choice without Daisy to lug him along. That’s what he had to focus on. Getting Daisy back. Don’t think about Rose and what she’d done. How he’d actually trusted her, how she betrayed him. Poor innocent Daisy. Think about Daisy.

  He kicked a brittle leaf, taking satisfaction as it tumbled to the side of the road. That leaf didn’t have a care in the world. Unless someone had put a spirit charm on it. Then it was in real trouble.

  Although it was he who was in real trouble now. He’d half hoped to form a proper plan as he walked, but instead he’d drunk the last of his whisky. All he had so far was written on a scrap of paper in his hand. It read: “Step one, look for the bandits who have Daisy”, with a lot of empty paper underneath it. Whenever his mind tried to formulate anything more, it went blank and decided to focus on his miserable pain instead. He scrunched the paper and put it in his pocket.

  Eric stopped.

  A rustle in the undergrowth. He was sure of it. Eric raised his crossbow at a nearby bush nestled between the trees. ‘I know you’re in there,’ he called. ‘Come on out and let’s get this over with.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ The bush muttered. ‘I’m just a bush.’

  ‘Cut it out.’

  ‘Are you an.... adventurer by any chance?’ said the bush, leaves fluttering.

  ‘No chance.’

  ‘I’d like to believe that, but… that crossbow looks awfully adventurey.’

  ‘It was my father’s,’ said Eric, trying not to let thoughts of his father distract him. ‘Merely self-defence, you know.’

  The bush muttered to itself in a number of voices, then eventually said with certainty, ‘Alright then.’

  Three men erupted out of the leaves, each with a wary look in their eyes and a layer of filth that implied they’d spent far too much time sleeping on plants. If Eric had to imagine what a bandit looked like, it was exactly that. Everything was textbook from the scruffy bandanas over their mouths, to the tattoos up their arms. The men surrounded Eric, holding crude sticks and blades.

  ‘Looks like you three have hit a bit of a rough patch,’ said Eric, keeping a firm hold on his crossbow.

  The three exchanged glances.

  The tallest stepped forward, with all the swagger of a man who knows he’s in charge. ‘Well banditin’ ain’t easy with all these adventurers around. You’re the first non-adventurer on this road in weeks.’

  ‘And you want all my things presumably?’

  ‘That would be lovely.’

  ‘Just doing your job?’

  ‘Just doin’ our job.’

  Eric sighed. ‘What’s your name?’

  The bandit pointed to himself to clarify. ‘Oh ah, I’m Bill. That’s Derek and that’s Graham.’

  Graham and Derek waved. Eric nodded back.

  ‘Pleasure to meet you,’ said Bill, who flinched as if he were about to raise his hand for a handshake but thought better of it. ‘Sorry we had to meet under such, uh, bad circumstances. You know, times are tough and all. Nothin’ personal. But we will need all your stuff, thanks.’ He gestured with his rusty dagger.

  Eric smiled. ‘No problem, I’ll give you my things without a fight. But under one condition. How’s that?’

  Bill narrowed his eyes. ‘Depends on what it is.’

  ‘Take me to The Bandit King, you can have my sack and I won’t shoot any of you. Nobody gets hurt, everybody wins.’

  ‘Ah,’ Bill scratched the back of his head. ‘Might be a bit of a problem that. See, we kind of… deserted The Bandit King. Can’t really go back.’

  ‘How about you just tell me where he is?’

  ‘Nah, that won’t work neither. Not easy giving directions through these woods, we’d have to show ya. Why’d you want to talk to him anyways? Thinking of being a bandit yerself?’

  Eric thought the bandit life wasn’t a bad idea. Abandoning the shop would certainly solve his debt issues. His failing business without Daisy wasn’t much to stay for. ‘It’s tempting, but seeing as you had to run away from him, I’m not sure he’s such a nice bloke. Why’d you leave?’

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The three sheepishly looked down at their feet and scuffed the floor with them. Bill cleared his throat. ‘Didn’t want to fight adventurers no more. It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘Of course it is,’ said Eric. ‘They’re armed to the teeth with spells and enchanted swords and all you have is cutlery. What in Mole’s name makes you think you can take ‘em on?’

  ‘Well, we usually only try to take on the newbies. You know, fresh off their tutorial training like. But The Bandit King… he wants more.’ Bill lowered his voice. ‘Rumour has it, he’s got a deal with some kind of evil overlord to keep the adventurers entertained. So us little guys don’t stand a chance, we’re just meat. Plus the benefits are awful.’

  ‘Awful,’ chimed in Derek.

  Graham simply nodded.

  Bill continued, ‘You have to work your way up to Commander Bandit if you want to get resurrected, and even then it comes out of your pay. Then he makes you have this kind of... vengeance pact with the adventurer who killed you. So you have to go hunt them down and fight them again and again until one of you runs out of coin for a resurrection.’ Bill took an intake of breath. ‘Which is usually us.’

  Eric was taken aback. He had no idea even the bandits were having such a hard time because of the adventuring craze too. No-one was safe. He began to feel sorry for them. He lowered his crossbow and smiled. ‘So how about it? Will you take me to The Bandit King or am I going to have to shoot you?’

  Bill held up his finger, then the three bandits huddled together, muttering. Eric waited, tapping his foot impatiently.

  ‘Alright then,’ Bill lowered his weapon and grinned.

  ‘Lovely.’

  ‘You’re a strange fella Eric.’ Bill pulled the bandana down from over his mouth, revealing his misshapen nose. ‘You do know that if he doesn’t like you, he’ll chop you up in an instant and feed you to the hounds?’

  Eric swallowed. He was glad they’d accepted his bluff. His crossbow could only really stop one of them before a reload. And that was only if he had the mettle to pull the trigger. He still felt a little hesitant after the ooze incident. Now he seemed to be swapping his current crisis for another.

  ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘Lead the way.’

  Bill took them through the trees until the safety of the path became a distant memory. The light dimmed as the sun set, exchanging its warmth for the cold embrace of moonlight. They pushed on through the tapestry of trees and shrubs, stepping over logs and avoiding bear traps. Eric felt like the stupidest man alive. But with so little to lose, and so little care left, he continued, one foot in front of the other.

  They made it to a river, and the bandits stopped to take a breath. Eric wanted to take off his pack and shoes, but felt like his new companions may have a change of heart, snatch his things and run off into the night. So he leant with his back against a tree with his crossbow loaded and close to hand.

  Bill sat down in front of him and stretched out his legs. ‘So what’s your story, Eric? Why are you so keen to get yourself stabbed? Wife left you?’ He clapped his hands together. ‘That’s it, the bandits took her.’

  ‘I ain’t ever had a wife.’ Eric grimaced. ‘The Bandit King took my mule.’

  ‘Not your wife?’

  ‘No, Daisy. ’

  ‘Oh yeah, kidnappin’s another business he’s been getting us into. Apparently quite lucrative.’ Bill rubbed the back of his head. ‘The adventurers don’t half make a fuss when they arrive to rescue ‘em. Usually, they slice up all the new recruits to get their loved ones back. Then they loot all the stuff we’ve left for them in the boxes and it’s job done.’

  ‘You… leave things for the adventurers?’

  ‘Yeah, gotta leave ‘em something to loot or they’ll come after the good stuff. Or at least that’s how The Bandit King puts it.’

  ‘What kind of stuff do you leave them?’

  ‘Oh, you know, handfuls of coin, apples, leather jerkins. Nothin’ of any value, but the adventurers can’t get enough. They spend about five minutes killin’ and half an hour huntin’ every nook and cranny for worthless scraps. Strange folk, they are.’

  ‘Strange indeed.’

  ‘We had a particularly nasty run-in with some adventurers a few weeks back, didn’t we lads?’

  Derek and Graham murmured agreement.

  Bill carried on with his tale, spurred on by his companion’s assurances. ‘They were practically insane. Their paladin only went and chopped off the head of their bard. Nearly made me sick to see, so we ran away as fast as we could. Haven't been back to The Bandit King since. Although he probably hasn’t even noticed we’re gone.’

  Eric wished he hadn’t paid Bill the morsel of attention he so clearly craved, as now he didn’t seem to want to shut up. And not wishing for them to split him open with a pointy blade, Eric held his tongue. ‘What a shame.’

  Bill shook his head. ‘It used to be such a noble profession when I was a wee lad. Back then it meant something. People feared ya name and ladies secretly enjoyed your roguish charm as you winked and took their purse. Now it’s all adventurer this, adventurer that. And somehow we’ve ended up the scum of the land hiding in dirty bushes and living off berries and nettles.’

  An idea popped into Eric’s head. He let it sit there for a moment in the darkness, then smiled, licked his lips and leaned in. ‘It’s funny that you say that... I’m actually trying to get rid of the adventurers myself.’

  Bill scoffed. ‘Good luck with that.’

  ‘That was exactly my response when I first heard the idea. Then I realised... I might as well try. They’ve destroyed everything good in this world and left me with nothing. Like a plague of bleeding locusts. Even if I can’t stop ‘em, at least it’ll hold ‘em back. And that’s only the beginning.’ Eric felt strange. As if Rose was in his body, controlling his words. Suddenly everything she’d pestered him with over the past few weeks made so much more sense.

  Now all three bandits were paying close attention. In the low lighting, he could see the gleam of their silver teeth turning into sharp grins.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Bill. ‘We’ve gotta show ‘em!’

  Graham and Derek stood up and cheered in unison. ‘Yeah!’

  Bill stopped himself. ‘But how?’

  Eric stroked his chin and let the silence draw them in. ‘How many bandits are there at this Bandit Fortress? A lot?’

  ‘Yes a lot,’ said Bill. ‘A lot a lot. More than enough to make a small army, I’d wager.’

  ‘And what if we took that army and struck at the very people who seem to be funding this whole mess?’

  Bill’s face beamed with realisation. ‘You know who that is?’

  ‘I do indeed.’ Eric tapped the side of his nose. ‘So maybe I can talk some sense into this Bandit King. Get him to fight against the adventurers, rather than feeding them.’

  ‘You can certainly try, it’s your funeral.’ Bill laughed and patted Eric on the shoulder, Eric’s finger tensed on the crossbow’s trigger. ‘I’ll admit Eric, we were planning on handing you over to The Bandit King ourselves for a cheeky little ransom. But now… maybe you can be more useful to us after all.’

  Eric felt a pang of fear and relief. ‘I’m glad you changed your mind.’