Some would call him a criminal, a murder. He preferred feudal lord. They were his serfs, they were his propriety, and they would keep him living in the luxury to which he was accustomed of they would die.
Vega did not especially like having servants. They cramped his style. He was a lone hunter, not a leader of men... still, one man is never and army. As mush as it distressed him to say it, he need them. It could be considered a mixed blessing that they were all spineless cowards. All he had to do was throw them his scraps and threaten them with dead and they’d do what ever he said. Pitiful.
He’d of enjoyed the challenge of an attempted usurper. The challenge, intrigue, the battle to the death, the blood on his claws, and the look of terror in the fools eyes as he snuffed out his pitiful existence.
Ah, for a challenge of a worthy opponent, killing farmers was a bore.
As for renting his services... he had less qualms with that. Powerful men attracted the attention of powerful men. As long as it benefited him, he had no problem with making a trade for his services, be they for the strength of his army or his skill as a killer. In fact, in retrospect, all of his most enjoyable confrontations were on the behalf of a patron.
The door to his private chambers slid open, and in walked one of his minions followed by a cloaked figure, the envoy.
He smiled wickedly as the figure entered attempted to maintain secrecy. He did not know the face or name of his leader but he knew one thing about this envoy.
He smelled the scent of a woman. A beautiful, dangerous woman. The sway of the hips, the ways she moved her arms, the way the robe hung of her body, that look in her lovely, lovely eyes... eyes almost as lovely as her own. A good part of him wished to just remove her mask, remove his own, giving her the pleasure of seeing his lovely face, then ravish her on the stone floor after she fell madly in love with his beauty.
Vega cleared the fantasy from his mind. Maybe it had just been too long since he’d taken a woman. He needed to learn not to break his toys. It was unfortunate but he’d have to place business before pleasure.
“Greetings, Vega,” said the envoy in her silky smooth voice. Oh, he would have to ask that a night with this one be added to his payment.
“Greetings, and what doers the voice of my patron wish to tell me. Perhaps you will explain to me why I was ordered to attack piece-mail instead of just crushing the damn town?”
“Vega,” the envoy stated, “My master has paid you well, now do as you are told.”
“Do you expect me to fight the local militia when it arrives in three days. My scouts report that they possess vehicular support. We are not equipped to deal with that. You have paid me to do a task, not to throw my life away.”
“Vega, you may withdraw by the time they arrive,” stated the Envoy. “Your contract is almost at an end.”
Under his mask, a smile made its way across Vega’s face. Oh, he’d have to ask for that ‘bonus’. “Is there else you master would we me to do, Lady...
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(Posted Fri, 06 Jun 2003 17:17)
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