Zaibach's Bounty

Note: It's the Ides of March so it's time for a tale of betrayal.

I've had the idea for this story for ages and, as usual, no motivation to put it down. But I figured this was as good a date as any to write it and I'm pretty exciting. It's going to be a Merlandau story, that much I can reveal, and there's going to be angst. This is set several years after the end of the series and in a scenario where Dilandau is alive and separated from Celena. The rest will unfold in time. I'm going to have fun with starting this in the middle.

Hope the story intrigues you. Please let me know what you think.

.

.

.

.

"The deal's off."

Merle said this with genuine conviction, but she got the sense that the man facing her was not convinced. If he was surprised by her decision, he did not show it. He simply stared at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

He was a thin, weasel-faced, bald man dressed in a dark cloak and with claw-like hands and gnarled fingertips. She had never liked him, not when he first contacted her about this job last year and even less now that she was telling him her final decision. His stare made her shudder and she more than ever she regretted ever deciding to have any association with such a suspicious looking character. Her instincts had warned against doing so all those months ago, but she had been too intrigued by the prospect of the mission that she had ignored them. She realized her mistake now, but she hoped she was not too late to rectify the situation.

They were meeting at a small tavern in a remote outpost. There were only a handful of patrons, none of whom seemed interested in the people around them, only concerned with their own affairs. It was a convenient location, both public but also affording some measure of privacy, an eerily appropriate venue for shady dealings. The surroundings made Merle uncomfortable but it was where they had agreed on and this encounter was necessary.

"This is rather disappointing," he said simply, "May I ask why you have decided to inform us of this change only now?"

Merle shrugged. "I've had enough time to mull it over," she said, while placing a large bag of coins on the table and pushing it towards her companion, "And I'm no longer interested. It's simply not worth the effort."

"Well, you certainly took your time about deciding," the bald man remarked.

"You never gave me a deadline," she replied, "Besides, has anyone else you recruited succeeded in finding him?"

Again, that strange, unsettling stare. "No," he replied, "and we were so hoping that you would have that honor, given your reputation. But it seems our confidence in your abilities was misplaced."

Merle bore the insult with a shrug. They both knew that she was one of the best trackers in Gaea. She was not admitting defeat, only refusing a job. She was probably the person most qualified to pull this off successfully, but she had no intention of doing so. She wished that she had put an end to this much earlier but so much had happened and she had not known then what she did now. She had not felt then what she did now.

"I am free to do as I wish," she said proudly, "I haven't spent a single coin from the money you gave me, and I apologize for wasting your time. But I am simply no longer interested in pursuing this target."

"And may I ask why?" the man asked slyly.

"My reasons are my own," Merle said curtly, hoping that she sounded more convincing than she felt.

"Of course," he said, with a hint of amusement, "though I don't think you make it a habit to refuse jobs like this. "

"There's a first time for everything."

"Indeed."

The whole conversation was making her uneasy. And since she had concluded what she had come to say, she nodded, then stood abruptly and turned to leave. The weasel-faced man made no such movement. Merle frowned as she noticed that the other customers of the tavern seemed to have left suddenly. Something didn't feel right and she readied her claws as she put a hand on the hilt of the dagger on her belt.

"Leaving so soon?" the man taunted her, "Why don't you stay and collect your reward?"

Merle turned to face him furiously. "What are you talking about?"

There was a satisfied smirk on the horrid man's face, an expression that made Merle's hairs stand on end.

"It can't be," she thought with horror.

The man turned his face to the doorway and summoned a few of his companions, another group of dark-cloaked men. They brought in another, bound tightly and with a bag over his head. But there was no doubt about his identity. The struggling figure was brought to his knees in front of the bald man and when Merle tried to run towards him, she found herself restrained by two large, hooded figures. She tried to claw at them or reach her dagger but they held her firmly and also brought her to her knees as she scowled at the bald man and then looked frantically at the other victim.

One of the ruffians removed the bag from the kneeling figure's head and Merle found herself face-to-face with Dilandau, bound and gagged and staring back at her in disbelief and confusion.

"Dilandau," Merle whispered "What are you doing here?"

"He followed you here," the bald man explained, his voice not hiding his amusement, "And then when he saw that there were certain unsavory types in the area, he probably thought you needed some assistance."

Dilandau made no attempt to speak but the situation seemed to be growing clear to him and his expression turned to realization, anger, and pain. And Merle could not bear it.

"You shouldn't have come," Merle said helplessly, "You shouldn't have come."

"Oh, but he did," the bald man continued with sinister glee, "And it made our job so much easier."

"Please, you have to believe me," Merle addressed Dilandau, trying to ignore the others around them, "I didn't mean for this to happen. You weren't supposed to get caught. I was trying to prevent that. Please, you have to believe me."

Butt in spite of her supplications, the pale man simply stared at her in anger and betrayal. The bald man watched this exchange with utter amusement.

"I must say this is a most unexpected development," he commented dryly even as Merle tearfully continued to reach out to Dilandau, "We never would have imagined that he would form an attachment to anyone. And what's even more surprising is it looks like the feeling is actually mutual."

Merle glared at him and shouted, "Just shut up and let us go!" she said angrily, knowing full well that there was no chance of this.

But Dilandau had stopped struggling and the cat-girl realized with horror that one of the cloaked figures had just injected a sedative into his system. His eyes were growing unfocused though there was still enough expression there to hurt her.

"I'll fix this, I promise," she cried out, "I won't let them take you!"

The bald man shook his head and stood up. "You really shouldn't make promises you can't keep," he said before motioning to his companions to take their captive away.

"But I must thank you for your help, however unintentional it must have been," he added insult to injury, "You have been truly instrumental in capturing him."

Those words broke Merle's heart and she turned to look at Dilandau once more, trying to reassure him that she would find a way to save him. But the last thing Merle remembered seeing before everything went black were his cold, accusing eyes.