EPISODE III- Crossed Paths
*********

This evening had been a slow one, Horry thought to himself, studying the empty interior of his small, dark bar. He was a fairly portly man, and he thought if he stood in one place for much longer, the floor would collapse underneath his weight. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity of boredom, a large, stocky figure swung open the door, and lumbered in. “Evening, Samilles,” said Horry, reaching below the bar and taking out a small shot glass. Samilles grunted quietly and stat down on one of the stools. “Well, yer as talkative as ever,” he said, placing the glass between them on the bar. “Usual?”

“Yeah,” Samilles muttered.

Horry hesitated a little before turning around and taking down a bottle from one of the top shelves. Slowly unscrewing the top, Horry gingerly poured Samilles a few ounces, flicking his eyes between the glass and Samilles.

“Got something you wanna’ say?” Samilles asked.

Horry sighed apprehensively. “Samilles,” he said, “do you have a girlfriend?”

“No,” Samilles answered, puzzled.

“Well,” said Horry, “there was this young lady looking for you as well as a job here this morning,”

“Who?” Asked Samilles.

Horry paused to rub his bald head. “Ah, damn, what was her name now? Oh well, she was about five-four, light brown hair, pretty slim. You know her?”

Samilles paused, thinking back to last night. “I might,” he said after awhile. “Where is she?”

“That run-down motel on the west side. You won’t believe this, but she didn’t have a place to stay, so I got a room for.”

Samilles was shocked. “You paid for her?”

Horry snorted. “It’s called charity, Samilles, a word I know you bounty hunters aren’t too familiar with. Besides, the cheap bastards that run the place worked up quite the tab here, so we made a little deal between us,” he said with a smirk.

“Is she still there?” Samilles asked.

Horry shrugged.

“Thanks,” Samilles muttered, taking the shot glass and slamming it back in one gulp. Digging into his pocket, Samilles slid a bill across the bar to Horry before standing and heading for the door.

Just before Samilles could step outside, Horry called, “Wait, Samilles!”

Samilles turned his head. “What?”

“Don’t-” Horry stammered, “Well, just be careful.”

“Why?” Samilles asked, “Am I your best customer?”

“Yes, but,” Horry paused, “trouble tends to follow you around.”

Samilles grunted and opened the door. “I know.”

*********************

There were a few people lounging around in the small motel lobby, all turning their eyes on Samilles as he entered, and gazing at his two sword sheaths strapped on either side of his waist. Ignoring them, Samilles approached the main desk at the back of the room. “I need to know where someone is,” he told to receptionist.

The receptionist lifted her head and adjusted her glasses. “Who?” She asked.

“I, I didn’t get her name,” Samilles muttered sheepishly. “Brown hair, skinny, and about this high,” he said, patting his collarbone. Seen anyone like that get a room here today?”

“Oh, miss Gize, yes,” she said. “Another client of yours?”

“No,” said Samilles. “She was looking for me. Is she here?”

“She hasn’t checked out,” said the receptionist, flipping through a clipboard.

“Which room is she in?”

“Sorry, mister Allon,” said the receptionist, “I can’t tell you that.”

Samilles grunted. “And why not?”

“Policy,” she answered. “Now, if you were with the law and had a warrant, it wouldn’t be a problem. But because you’re just a hired sword-”

“Would you mind if I just asked around back there?” Samilles asked.

“Then leave your swords here.”

Samilles’ hands gripped his sword handles protectively. “I’m not here to cause any trouble,” he said. “I just want to talk with Gize.”

The receptionist rolled her eyes. “All right,” she said, “just this once.” Samilles nodded his thanks before disappearing into the hallway beyond the desk.

The first person Samilles saw in the hallway was a man of a similar build as his. “You,” Samilles said, “Have you seen a brown-haired lady around this tall check in today? Her last name’s Gize.”

The man looked a little bewildered all of a sudden. “No, no I haven’t,” he said.

Samilles grunted in disappointment as he continued through the hallway. There were only three hallways in the single-floor motel, and each of them were now barren. Now at the back of the motel, Samilles decided his only option left was to knock on the doors one by one.

He was halfway down the first hallway when he bumped into the same man he had spoken to earlier. “Hey,” he said, “I think I might know where someone like that is.”

“Mind showing me?” Samilles asked.

As soon as Samilles went to follow the man, a sudden sharp pain poked him in the small of the back. Samilles froze in his place, turning his head to look behind him. There was another man with a devilish grin, dagger in hand and holding the point to his kidney. There were suddenly two more men visible ahead of him, each of them with their hands on the hilts of their weapons. “Sure,” the man answered, “why don’t we start behind the building?”

The moment Samilles felt the dagger move off of his skin, he arched his back and rammed his broad shoulders into the man behind him, knocking him backwards and teetering for balance. Immediately, weapons were drawn, and Samilles flung out his leg backwards, kicking out the knee of the assailant behind him. With both swords drawn, Samilles slipped behind the dagger-wielding man, jamming the hilt of one sword into his wrist, forcing him to drop the knife. With one sword poking into the back and another across the throat, Samilles now held his attacker like a human shield. Put your weapons away,” Samilles ordered, “or your friend is done.”

One of the men snorted a laugh. “Okay by us,” he said as he and his allies raised their weapons.

With a thrust of his arm, Samilles drove the sword through his hostage’s body, kicking him off of his blade and into the row of his enemies. Two of them were knocked down, with only one managing to slip past and charge Samilles with a broadsword. Crossing his blades, Samilles caught the broadsword in mid-slash, quickly lurching forward and planting his heel into his attacker’s groin. As that man keeled over in pain, another one vaulted over him like a steppingstone, aiming a wild overhead slash with an axe at Samilles’ face. Darting backwards quickly, Samilles narrowly avoided getting his head split in two as the axe plunged harmlessly and deeply into the floor. As the axe man struggled to free his weapon, the third man pushed forward swinging around a mace. All Samilles could do was keep hopping backwards as the mace smashed holes through the walls as it flew left and right. As the mace plunged into a door, Samilles used the brief pause as a window to attack, slashing downward at his opponent with his left sword. The man quickly stretched out the chain of the mace, catching Samilles’ sword. He was not quick enough to stop the trust of Samilles’ second sword, having it driven through his free left hand. As he crumpled to the floor screaming over his gushing wound, the other two were quickly charging at him again. Growing more and more worn down by the second from the constant attacks, Samilles hastily retreated down the hall and rounded a corner as his attackers gave chase, waiting for his chance to strike.

********************

Serah sat at the desk, looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall. Clad in just her nightgown, she was just finishing up brushing her hair before she went to bed. Looking back on the day’s events, she wondered why she had ever thought she could rely on Samilles, after the way he had abandoned her the other night. Even though she knew she owed her life to him, the very thought of Samilles disgusted her to no end, and her left palm was itching to slap him across his scarred cheek. Serah resolved to go back to Horry’s bar the next morning, and ask again for a job- seriously this time. She would make enough money to travel back home, back with her foster parents, and forget the entire story with Kanadiam, her kidnappers, and especially Samilles.

Suddenly, Serah heard noises coming from outside in the hallway. Slowly standing up, Serah, with hairbrush in hand, took two steps towards her door, hearing rushing footsteps trample past. Wondering what it could be, Serah went to the wall to the right of her door, placing her right ear on it. She suddenly heard many more running feet charging by, followed by a ferocious roar. And hardly a second later, there was another scream as her door burst off the hinges.

Serah shrieked in fright as two men crashed over the threshold and onto the floor. “Samilles!” Serah gasped, watching in terror as another man on top of Samilles pinned him down. Samilles was barely able to keep his attacker’s broadsword above his face with his lighter swords in the defensive X-formation.

“You!” Samilles roared back, just as surprised as Serah.

Quickly glancing over the two, Serah saw the axe-wielding man raise his axe and setting his sights on Samilles’ exposed knee. “Samilles, behind you!” Serah screamed.

The shriek was enough to catch the attention of the axe man, looking up just in time to catch Serah’s thrown hairbrush with his eye. As the assailant collapsed on the floor cradling his face, Samilles finally managed to force the broadsword to the side, letting it drive into the floor inches away from Samilles’ face. With a quick jerk of his neck, Samilles sent his forehead smashing into the swordsman’s face, drawing a torrent of blood from his nose at it snapped loudly. The swordsman quickly crawled back into the hall, letting Samilles scramble back to his feet.

“Samilles!” Serah gasped, not sure whether to feel relieved or terrified as she helped him back up.

Samilles suddenly pushed her away as she spun around, slashing his sword at the doorway and cutting a wide gash into the chest of the entering mace-wielder. The last two assailants barged into the room over their fallen ally, barely getting past the threshold before Samilles rammed his shoulder into the axe man’s chest, crushing him between his body and the wall. As the axe man slid down gasping for breath, the swordsman began another assault on Samilles, each of his powerful slashes barely deflected by both of Samilles’ swords. Once again catching the broadsword in the X-formation, Samilles lurched forward to kick at his attacker’s lower body again, but this time the swordsman skipped backwards as well to safety. Quickly dropping his right-hand sword, Samilles held his left with both hands as he skipped to the side, overpowering the swordsman and forcing the broadsword down again before lashing out with a quick right jab to the swordsman’s already broken nose. With the swordsman stumbling against the wall in a daze, Samilles picked up his dropped sword, and with a primal roar, he drove it at the swordsman, pinning him to the wall through his chest. Just as Samilles released his grip on his stuck sword, the axe man had already recovered, and raised his axe above his head to drive it into Samilles’ neck.

“Behind you!” Serah screamed again, alerting Samilles just in time to dive to his side, again narrowly avoiding his head being halved. With one sword against one axe, Samilles and the last attacker paced in a circle around the room, each wondering how to kill the other man. Lunging forward, the axe man took a swing at Samilles, with Samilles quickly counter-slashing. The blade drove itself deep into the axe’s thick shaft, but not far enough to cut through it. With Samilles’ only sword stuck firmly in the axe shaft, the axe man lunged forward again, toppling Samilles and pinning him on the floor again, wrenching the sword from his hands. With the axe blade hovering just above his face, the surprisingly heavy axe man thrust all of his weight down on Samilles, with Samilles barely able to grasp the shaft in time to stop it from splitting his skull open. Samilles struggled in vain to lift the man, and inch by steady inch, the axe blade came lower and lower upon him. Just as the blade touched the tip of his nose, the axe man suddenly screamed in pain, freezing just long enough for Samilles to roll the axe man over, snatch the axe out of his hand, and drive it between his eyes.

His heart still racing like crazy, Samilles wearily picked himself up, glancing around to see Serah holding his other sword, and then noticing the wide gash in the axe man’s shoulder. Serah was shaking uncontrollably, barely able to move, much less able to comprehend what she had just done. “Thanks,” Samilles muttered, wrenching his other sword free from the axe shaft, and taking his other sword out of Serah’s hands.

“N-no problem,” Serah murmured as Samilles sheathed one blade.

Just as Serah slowly headed towards the bed, Samilles flashed his other sword out, holding it against Serah’s neck. Serah gasped and shrieked, frozen in place. “There’s a lot of people who want to see you dead, lady,” He growled, “They must have a pretty good reason.”

“S-S-Samiles, it’s not w-what you think,” Serah pleaded, shaking violently. “P-P-P-Please, let me explain!”

Samillles hesitated for a second, and then lowered his sword. “Alright,” he said as he sheathed his sword, “Talk.”

Before Serah could say a word, there was a crowd rushing to her door, staring in horrified awe at the bloody carnage. “Samilles!” the receptionist gasped, pushing her way into the room. “What did you do?”

Samilles glances around the room briefly, and then shrugged. “My job.”