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The Bandits’ Treasure

Summary:

A traveling player discovers something far more valuable than gold.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

I’d had no idea that being a man involved so much scratching your crotch and spitting, but that’s what the role required. At first I had counted myself lucky to find so many men in one place, but finding out that they were human separatists had dampened my enthusiasm. That they were also bandits made it worse. I’d spent much of the afternoon planning how to slip away from them unseen to warn the nearby village, but seeing their latest acquisition had forced a change of plans.

“No mistake, that’s a fine piece of woman-flesh there, chief,” said a one-eyed ruffian who could defeat weaker mamono with just his body odor. “Are we keepin’ ‘er or sellin’ ‘er?” He leered and added, “Me, I vote for keepin’ ‘er.”

A whip-thin man with an oiled mustache and the eyes of a killer subtly maneuvered himself between the naked captive and the other bandits. “She’s worth more if she’s unspoiled,” he said, “So it’s one or the other. Can’t be both.”

The bandit chief, a mountain of a man with blond hair and mismatched armor, nodded agreement. “Severin’s right. We have to pick a path.” He thought for a moment and said, “It’s been a while since I had a woman from our world -- the human women born here have no fire, and we’ve all sworn an oath to not defile ourselves with abominations.” He strolled over to the woman and took her chin in his hand. “But this one is all woman, and she looks strong enough to handle us all a time or two. I say we keep her, lads!” The bandits raised a cheer, and when it subsided their chieftain added, “At least… for as long as she lasts.” As the bandits laughed the one called Severin started arranging them into a marching order. This was bad. I had mere minutes to get this poor woman away and no idea how to do it.

While I wallowed in indecision the woman yanked her face out of the bandit chief’s hand and spat in his eye. “Filthy pig! Give me a dagger and I’ll show you how a Romani woman deals with the likes of you!”

The bandit wiped his face with his sleeve and gave the woman a predatory smile. “Oh, don’t worry, miss. I plan on giving you a dagger.” The young woman’s face contorted in rage, but my long-stilled heart fluttered at her show of bravery. If her capacity for joy was equally great she might well be the spouse I’d been longing for… but to find out I had to get her away somehow. Before I could even begin to make a plan the situation changed yet again.

“Uh… excuse me? Is this the secret bandit camp?” said a male voice. Every eye turned to see a dark-haired man with deeply tanned skin. The sword he carried looked far too fine for the station implied by his durable traveling clothes in addition to radiating a faint aura of mana.

That’s no ordinary sword, I thought. I’m pretty sure it’s a mamono, but it doesn’t feel like a cursed sword. Are blessed swords real after all?

“Who the hell are you, pup?” said the thug with the eyepatch.

The young man grinned. “Name’s Maco. I’ve been hired to clear out a nest of bandits… and it looks like there are almost enough of you to make it fun.” He raised the sword, which glowed faintly in the moonlight, and took up a fighting stance.

The bandits drew their weapons in turn, but none moved to attack until Severin sighed and said, “Ten silver to the man who brings me that sword.” The bandits took up positions around their quarry then. Maco waited until they had him surrounded before he started killing them. Amid the screams I saw my chance to rescue the damsel in distress.

I turned toward the bandit leader and his lieutenant and sheathed my illusory weapon. “What are you doing, you fool? FIGHT!” roared the chieftain. Without breaking stride I assumed my natural form just before I got within their reach. The chief dropped his weapon and released his grip on the prisoner, and the acrid smell of ammonia told me that my gambit had worked even better on Severin. The young Romani, I was pleased to see, was merely surprised.

I allowed myself a moment to savor the rush of emotion from the two men; that would keep me fed for at least a week. Then I assumed my juggler form to assure her that I meant no harm. “Let’s get you out of here,” I said. The woman looked at the scene of carnage and decided to take her chances with me. I led her into the woods along secret paths known only to me and the forest dwellers and ran at the best speed that she could keep up with.

Three-quarters of a mile later I led my rescuee into a small copse to let her catch her breath. “We should be safe now,” I declared. “Even if the bandits won the fight, and I doubt they did, they won’t be able to track us along the paths we took.”

The woman pushed out words between labored breaths. “That… sword… it was… magic?”

“That sword was a living being,” I answered. “A mamono, a monster woman… like me.” I briefly assumed my dancer and storyteller forms to press the point home. “But unlike those bandits -- and most other mamono -- I won’t hurt you.”

The young Romani nodded and took some time to get her breathing under control before asking, “Who are you?”

“When I look like this I’m called Cathleen,” I said. “Sometimes I go by Abeni…” I shifted to dancer form. “...or Fatima…” and switched to my storyteller guise. “...but you can call me Kuranko,” before changing to my true form. I held that for a few moments before resuming Cathleen’s appearance and asked, “What’s your name?”

“Kezia,” she said. “So what are you? Ghost? Spirit? Or…” and here I saw the first hint of worry on her face. “...vampire?”

I giggled, I hoped reassuringly, and said, “No, I’m no vampire. A ghost, actually, but a friendly one. Well, except to bandits and kidnappers.” That got an answering chuckle from Kezia, and the sincerity of that sound brought a slight trickle of ectoplasm to my nethers. She must be the one! I thought. Aloud I said, “Before we do anything else, let’s do something about the way you’re dressed. There’s a homestead nearby. Why don’t we go there and get you something to wear and a place to rest for the night? In the morning we can talk about your future.”

“On the way can we talk about where I am and how I got here?” she asked. At my nod she replied, “All right, then. Lead the way.”

I smiled and held out my hand. “Better hold onto me; I can see in the dark much better than you can.” Kezia hesitantly took my hand and gasped at the contact. “Is something wrong?”

“No no, it’s just… your hands are cold.” She smiled sheepishly and said, “I suppose that’s to be expected, eh?”

Don’t worry, you joy-filled, brave beauty, I thought, Something else is hot for you. We smiled at each other as I led her into the night. Perhaps soon I would be able to trade my nightly marital arts practice for the real thing, but for now I would be content with answering her questions in ways that would convince her that I was her new home.

Notes:

This story features the noppera-bo, and mentions the blessed sword, from the Honorary Monstergirl Competition. You can find their write-ups here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49646359/chapters/130936570

and here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49646359/chapters/130935955