The Bounty Hunter

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

For the first time in their journey, as they pushed on across the countryside following the road to Scaera, they saw someone else who was travelling along the road. Safita shuffled uncomfortably, yanking her hood up over her face as quickly as possible and adjusting her pack on her shoulders as Finred resisted the urge to laugh, half expecting her to order him to jump into the bushes at the side of road. She did not, however, and they continued along their way, heading towards the lone person who was coming from the opposite direction.

“Why does barely anyone use the road?” Finred asked curiously as the pair of them examined the person approaching them.

“It’s not always the fastest way to get around,” Safita replied, “and sometimes it doesn’t lead where you need to go. It is used a lot nearer the larger cities like Sicara, Jillin and Scaera but not so much around here.” She fell silent as they passed the other traveller, a small man whose patched cloak was coated in dust and whose worn boots had long ago lost their shine but whose ruddy face spoke of happiness and pleasantness, almost the polar opposite to the two hostile bounty hunters.

“Hullo!” he said with a wide smile and a bob of his head as they passed him.

“Greetings,” Finred said cheerfully as Safita nodded slightly, her black hood concealing most of the action. The man shot a confused look at them over his shoulder as he tramped past, clearly wondering what they were doing cloaked from head to toe; or maybe not – bounty hunters weren’t the most common sight in the Outlands but they certainly weren’t rare and there was an abundance of strangely dressed people who were loath to reveal their identities outside the Palace vicinity.

“You could have greeted him,” Finred remonstrated as they left the man far behind them. “It’s not that hard to be polite.”

“I did nod at him,” she pouted, shaking her hood off her head.

“Only barely!” Finred laughed. “Surely it cannot be that hard to muster up a word of greeting?”

“You’d be surprised. We don’t really place much emphasis on manners out here,” she said wryly.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” he exclaimed. “Etiquette is important wherever you go, even out here! Besides, a friendly word is never overlooked – surely you know that from your dealings with those youngsters, you seem to be able to perfectly kind to them.”

“Fine, it’s not really important amongst the people I mix with.”

“Forgive me, I forgot that bounty hunters were the lowest of the low,” Finred smirked as Safita aimed her elbow at his ribs.

“Well you would do well not to forget that,” she answered haughtily, sticking her small nose up in the air. “Besides, I would rather that he didn’t see my face.”

“Why, because he might recognise you as the famous Spider!” Finred teased. “Not everyone knows you or will make the connection; in fact I highly doubt that any member of the unsuspecting populace thinks you might be a woman.”

“Thank you, I think; my disguise is notoriously good. The rest of your comment… I will disregard,” she muttered.

The stars shone faintly through the canopy overhead as the fire cast long shadows on the trees which crowded in around Finred and Safita, turning them into towering pillars which flickered with the flames. Safita was gazing into the fire that they had made, her mind preoccupied as her thoughts floated elsewhere, and Finred found himself watching her, unable to tear his eyes away. He was struggling to reconcile the person he had known before, the one he had believed was a man, with the woman he saw now; despite the fact that she was strangely beautiful, sitting there pensively as the firelight danced across her face and her hair, free of her braid and tumbling around her shoulders, she was also definitive proof of how sour beauty could be – she was irritable, stubborn, cold, harsh and clearly paranoid – yet Finred was beginning to think that he understood her; he was sure that he would be very similar to her if he had grown up in the Outlands and trained to be a bounty hunter, especially if he were a woman. It seemed as if she had put every feminine feeling behind her in her struggle to succeed and succeed she had, however high the price had been, a price he was only allowed slight glimpses into. She certainly was secretive, that was for sure, Finred thought with a grin though he was hardly one to talk. “Were you born in Jillin then?” he asked, startling her from her reverie.

“No,” she replied before she managed to check her mouth; frowning slightly she shrugged and laced her fingers together in her lap. “No, I was born in Palace vicinity,” she admitted with a small smile.

“What happened? Why did you end up a bounty hunter?” Finred asked curiously, leaning in attentively as if he was pulled in inexorably by the external force of his interest, the interest which drew him to her, while the light of the flames turned him into a looming shadow. Within the folds of his hood his pale chin was painted yellow by the fire and Safita found it a little disconcerting, to be looked at, listened to and questioned so intently by someone whose face was completely covered.

Safita grimaced as she said, “You remember my parents died?”

“Yes,” Finred murmured, leaning even closer to her as she frowned.

“Well not all of us have a choice in life; I had to find a way to live and make money and jobs for children are thin on the ground in law abiding country… There’s still a fair amount of crime in the cities though,” she said almost nostalgically, a smile lingering on her fair face.

“What did you do?” he asked, a frown entering his voice.

“I became a pickpocket,” she answered simply. “It went well for a while but then one day… it didn’t go quite so well and I was caught. They were going to execute me but some boy, later I was told by one of the guards that it was actually the Prince of Coraina himself, convinced them not to. I think he had told his father not to sign my death warrant or to revoke it or some such thing – he had been allowed to see me because the King wanted to scare him or something similar to that. Anyway, thanks to him I was taken to just beyond the Palace walls and left in the Outlands, presumably to die without a warrant. I would have done too if a couple of travellers hadn’t found me and taken me to Jillin with them where I met Hergun. So here’s to the prince, who both saved me and condemned me that day,” she said, raising her water skin with a smile, “and who will both save me and condemn me once more when I find him and return home!”

“Cheers,” Finred grinned as both of them took a gulp of their water, “to the prince.”

“What about you?” Safita asked with a smile as she turned to face Finred.

“What about me?”

“Well…” she looked around as she tried to think of something to say, almost as if she believe inspiration would spring from behind one of the trees, “I know you’re running away from a horrible betrothed but why? Why are you so desperate to escape? She can’t be that bad surely.”

Finred laughed dryly, “I can’t say that I know her; I’ve never met her you see.”

“Then how can you know that she’s worth running away from?” Safita pointed out.

“I don’t but I was mainly running away from what she stood for – marrying me off for a purpose, not letting me choose the woman that I spend the rest of my life with and things along those lines. I sound childish but I’d rather marry for love,” he said quietly, “if you have to devote your life to them it must be better to care about them surely?”

“I’m fairly sure you’ll find that people make more of love than it’s worth,” Safita chuckled, “what about if you fall out of love with them?”

“I don’t think you would if you truly loved someone,” Finred answered. “In any case I’d at least like to be allowed to choose who I marry; is that too much to ask?”

“Of course not; here, let me give you the world too,” she smiled. “Perhaps you’ll come to love her.”

“Perhaps but perhaps not,” he said dismissively, wondering when his companion became so jaded; he had thought that every girl believed in love, no matter how deep down, but clearly this was just another example of something he was beginning to realise – Safita was nothing like any other girl.