The Last Outlaw: Part 4

Estel could see little in the darkness, but she could hear them—the snapping of twigs, the crush of leaves, and the brush of grass. There were more than one, more than three, and they were closing in.

“Don’t neither of you move,” a she whispered in a hushed voice from the shop portion of the house. Helmund could hear the sounds of multiple people entering the shop. Their footsteps were quite heavy, so he concluded it could be no less than 6-8 individuals.

“We’ve got arrows aimed at your backs, and we’ll drop you where you stand if you try to run.” One of the mysterious travelers began. “We’re just gonna lighten your load a bit. No one needs to get hurt. Do as I say, and you’ll keep your lives. Don’t—and we’ll take those, too.”

Estel felt her stomach sink, knowing this was her fault. She glanced over at the kitchen, where Helmund sat. Beside him in his ashen gray robes stood a young boy, Basil with his face hidden. His companion’s head was buried and shook slightly. Helmund didn’t need to see his friend’s expression to know what it looked like.
“Sorry young one,” Helmund offered.
Basil said nothing and just continued to shake his head.
Before them stood a wall of fresh-cut canvas blocking their view. On the other side lay the moonlit corridor of empty hallway. Mist pooled in the dips and gullies, and somewhere an unseen stream of water trickled over a tabletop waterfall.

Helmund was clutching his sword in one hand, Basil could just make out the gold veins creeping up the sides of it. They were deep in the valley on the old southern road, engulfed in a long tunnel of oaks and ash whose slender branches reached out overhead, quivering and clacking in the cold autumn wind. Almost a three hour ride from the rest town, Helmund couldn’t recall passing so much as a shed. Yet here they were on their own in the middle of Estel’s Kitchen—being ambushed.

The sound of footsteps grew louder until the thieves finally stepped into the narrow band of moonlight. Basil counted four men with unshaven faces and drawn swords. They wore rough clothes, leather and wool, stained, worn, and filthy. With them was a girl wielding a bow, an arrow nocked and aimed. She was dressed like the rest in pants and boots, her hair a tangled mess. Each was covered in mud, a ground-in grime, as if the whole lot had slept in a dirt burrow.

“They don’t look like they got much money,” a man with a flat nose said. An inch or two taller than Helmund, he was the largest of the party, a stocky brute with a thick neck and large hands. His lower lip looked to have been split about the same time his nose was broken.
“But they’ve got bags of gear,” the girl said. Her voice surprised him. She was young, and—despite the dirt—cute, and almost childlike, but her tone was aggressive, even vicious. “Look at all this stuff they’re carrying. What’s with all the darts?”
Basil was uncertain if she was asking them or her fellows. Either way, he was not about to answer. He considered making a joke, but she did not look like the type he could charm with a compliment and a smile. On top of that, she was pointing the arrow at him and it looked like her arm might be growing tired.
“I claim the big sword that fella has in his hand,” flat-nose said. “Looks right about my size.”
“I’ll take the other two knives he’s carrying.” This came from one with a scar that divided his face at a slight angle, crossing the bridge of his nose just high enough to save his eye.
The girl aimed the point of her arrow at Basil. “I want the little one’s cloak. I’d look good in a fine grey hood like that.”
With deep-set eyes and sunbaked skin, the man behind to the girl appeared to be the oldest. He took a step closer and grabbed hold of her bow slowly. “Be real careful now. We’ve killed plenty of folks along this road. Stupid folks who didn’t listen.” He looked at Basil, “You don’t want to be stupid, do you?”
Basil shook his head.
“Good. Now drop them weapons,” the thief said. “And then step outside.”

Helmund didn’t oblige. Instead he spoke, “Do you know who I am? Perhaps you have heard of my many pseudonyms: Slayer of Kings, Bringer of Death, The OUTLAW.”

The girl with the bow backed up slightly. “You’re lying… he’s been dead for years, or at least believed to be." She raised her bow at Helmund, “How dare you claim his name!” she exclaimed in a sudden rage.

“Who are you talking about?” Flat-nosed asked. “What name did this guy steal?”
Helmund looked over. “I did not steal my name, it was given to me at birth.”
“And that is…?” said the one with the scar.
“Helmund,” Estel finally spoke up. Basil had totally forgotten she was even there.

“He speaks the truth…Arwen” She looked the girl dead in her eyes, “Now put your bow down while in MY shop.”

Arwen pointed her bow at Estel.
“So you’re going to be stubborn.” Estel scoffed
Silence.
Estel spoke up again, “Why do you have to make everything so difficult? Helmund comes back to us and the first thing you do is try to rob him, have you no shame.”

The entire rest of the shop looked around in confusion, and in unison Basil and Flat-Nose let out a much needed “Us?”
“I ain’t got no family,” Arwen replied. “I spent most of my life alone and in the woods.”
“You’re being a brat,” Estel said. “This is why I told you to leave the first time.”
“Either you do as you’re told, or I’ll remove you myself.” Estel emphasized this by pulling a long dagger from behind the counter she was standing at and pointing it towards Arwen.

Once again, silence.
A cold wind howled through the trees, bobbing the branches and stripping away some of that eerie silence. Red and gold leaves flew into the shop swirling in circles. Finally, Arwen lowered her bow.
“Every time you come back home you bring these hooligans with you, now what kind of an older sister would I be if I hadn’t stopped you today.” Estel put down the dagger and walked towards Arwen, wrapping her arms around her, giving the biggest bear-hug she could manage.

“Now, apologise to Basil, the boy looks worried sick that you might try to harm him and Helmund.”

Arwen looked at the boy, then at Helmund. “Where have you been, you said you’d teach me to hunt like you. That you’d take me on an adventure.”

“This boy is the reason for my absence, I apologise little one. It must have been hard.” Helmund spoke.

Before he could continue, Basil realized what he had just heard. At that moment, he guessed Arwen’s crew did as well.

“SISTERS!?” Basil and Flat-Nose exclaimed in unison once again.

“Wait a minute?” one of the thieves asked, “are you THE Helmund, from all the old stories?”

“Indeed.” Helmund proclaimed “Arwen here was my first apprentice, I taught her to use a hunting bow at 5 years old.”

“Enough of that!” Arwen cut in, “Why are you traveling with this child, why did you not come back for me.”

“I was lost child, I went to retrieve a summons from a far away land. When I awoke from my slumber, I found myself in his home”