• "Show them what the word Iron means," I remember yelling to my men as we charged down the clearing. At that time, we'd been little more than bandits. The Guard was before us, ready to hang every last man on my side for following in the law-breaking ways of the one, the great… the Iron Fist.

    Ripping through man after man, I could hear my men roar with pride as they followed me into the fray. None of them were afraid, and all were proud to die with me should it come to that end. We all, however, knew that today was not ours to die on. I could hear my Right Hand, Derek, laughing as he darted around enemy soldiers. He was quick on his feet with two long thin blades, one in each hand. People often called him Lightning, or Bolt for short. Glancing to the side, I could see my Left Hand, similarly fighting boldly in the fray. Geoffrey was a big man, towering over even me, with a large battle ax that he swung about like a feather in his hands. For his strength, he was known as a mountain of almost unlimited power. This is why he was dubbed as Rock.

    The three of us together tore through the front line of men, our comrades picking up the few who slipped past on our way down the hill. I was the odd man out. I had no real weapons in my hands. Instead, I wore only two black iron gauntlets, each adorned with a flat blocker to deflect blades. I was quite literally punching my way through the mass of men impeding my passage. I moved faster than Rock, if slower than Bolt – but still, I was fast. The men cheered as they saw me mow down man after man – racking up the body count.

    The thrill of battle came to a head as the last man fell and only their officer remained. I stood, absently straightening my gauntlets with Rock standing to the left of me, and Bolt on my right. Terrified for his life, as he should be, he backed against the tree behind him, feebly looking for an exit. His eyes darted between us and I knew that what he saw must be fearsome. A man large enough to tower over any others, built like a mountain, and looking like the meanest ******** to ever be born stood before him, carrying an ax the size of his torso. Then, a relatively shorter but still tall, lithe, but well muscled man stood with two blades in his hands, looking serenely but coldly at the little man. In the middle, another tall man wearing blood-covered gauntlets stood, looking so calm as to not even care about what had just happened.

    Indeed, the sight must have been fierce. I smiled, saying, "You're going to do something for me, little man." Frantically, he glanced between us before deciding (stupidly) to dash into the woods behind him. I frowned, irritated with this response. "Bolt," I ordered softly. Immediately, he stuck both blades in the dirt and shot off after the man.

    Quietly, a soldier moved forward and picked up Bolt's swords (Luna and Lunar), holding them sacredly for Bolt. I was proud of my small army. The sixty-five men who followed under me were all excellent fighters, and all were fiercely loyal. I knew they would follow me into battle anywhere. I was grateful for that.

    Bolt returned, as I knew he would, with the man slung over his shoulder. The man was throwing a fit about being treated like a sack of grain, but I noticed that a knife was sticking out of his shin. Bolt tossed him unceremoniously to the ground at my feet, politely taking back his swords so he could stand over the man, one foot in his back while the blades crossed at his throat, keeping him effectively pinned.

    I used the toe of my boot to left his chin up enough to look at his face instead of the top of his head. "You have two choices," I said simply. "Tell me what I want to know without being a b***h about it or my friend here is going to chop off the growth at the end of your neck."

    The man looked up at me, glaring. "I'll never tell you anything!"

    Considering him for a moment, I finally shrugged and started to sentence him to death, when I heard a female voice saying not only very dirty words, but something along the lines of, "I'm going to chop off your d**k." I doubt those were her exact words, but that's what I heard.

    Not much caring for dismemberment, I turned my head to see a few of the men dragging forward a young woman. She was nearly a half foot shorter than me, but still tall enough for a female. It was hard to get a good look at her face with her thrashing against the hold of now five different men. I had a rule about hitting women, so they had no choice but to find more hands to restrain her. It was kind of funny to watch.

    Using long powerful legs, she launched lethally fast kicks toward the nearest head, surprisingly me with her ability to kick so high. She had to be a dancer, if anything else. Her arms were being held behind her back, but she used this to her advantage. Every spare chance she got, she'd lean back on the man holding her arms, rear up both legs and kick wildly. I expected her to miss, with the rapid frenzy the kicks were launched in, but she continued to surprise me by landing more than half of her attempts on the chests – and throats – of the men trying to keep her under control.

    Rock came up behind my left shoulder, saying softly to me, "She's a feisty wee thing, that girl. She's going for throats, even."

    I didn't look at him but responded in an under tone, "Yes. I believe that's why I find her fascinating. She can't be older than possibly nineteen."

    "Looks are deceiving, sir," Bolt, with his amazing hearing, warned me gently. I smiled over my shoulder at him briefly before turning back to the woman in front of me. She was on her knees now, a knife to her throat.

    Before I could get angry, one of my men hastily told me, "Sir, it was the only way to contain her! She was going to kill us with that damned kicking – Samson is still trying to get his windpipe to work again!"

    Instead of being angry, I simply laughed. "A young woman took not only six men to restrain her, but a knife to her neck as well? What a truly terrifying force indeed. Wouldn't you agree, my friends?"

    Rock nodded, his rumbling laugh making his whole body shake. "Such a little girl to have caused so much trouble is absurd! Iron, the men either grow weak or foolish. Both are punishable with extra time in the yard, yes?"

    We watched as the men's faces all fell, not liking the idea of extra training to go on top of the firm regime they already led. One man reached down and grabbed the girl by her thick dark black and brown locks, pulling her head up to face me. I made a small gesture and he released her. She made a small noise of pain, her head falling forward. Her hair cascaded over one shoulder, and I saw that it was cut in layers, each getting longer as it went down. Since she wasn't exactly a prisoner, I didn't say anything harsh. Instead, I broke the ice with something unexpected.

    "Madam, may I ask why you'd cut your hair in such a fashion? It's four different lengths. Doesn't that get tiring to keep?"

    Slowly, her head rose to face me. The look on her face wasn't confused or frightened. Instead, it was a look of almost disgusted shock. "Are you serious? I was dragged here to be asked about my hair cut? It's thinner this way, if you must know. It's unbearably bushy when it rains."

    I smiled, crouching to make it easier for her to look at me. She was very pretty, now that I could see her face. Her eyes were a dark forest green, with thick lashes to line them. High cheek bones complimented the wide full mouth and her opal skin. She was gifted with an ample chest, a long neck, and fair skin that covered her body – but I tried not to look too much while she had such a good view of where my eyes were facing.

    "What is your name, woman?"

    Now, regarding me slowly, her eyes narrowed. This was not a foolish woman and not a trusting one either. I wasn't entirely surprised considering the life people led today. It was still a little depressing. Winning her over would be easier if I could call her by some proper name.

    Her head tilted to the right very slightly, eyes relaxing as she spoke to me in a curious tone, not without suspicion, "Tell me your name first, stranger, so that I might be less inclined to withhold my own."

    Grinning, I told her, "I'm not the one with a knife to my neck."

    "You're not the one with the desired information, either," she countered me easily. I was taken aback by the intelligence that burned in her eyes. She knew perfectly well that she had me at a disadvantage. Of course, this wasn't something that bothered me – it actually only served to interest me more.

    I smiled at her, saying, "You're not a fool."

    A grin twitched at the corner of her mouth as she said, "No, but I am in pain." She lifted her knee slightly to reveal the rock she was leaning on. "Can I stand up or something?"

    My smile faded slightly as I asked, "Can I count on you not to run off?"

    "Only," she negotiated, "if I can count on you not to allow any harm to come to me until an arrangement is reached between us." I started to agree when she added to her demand. "I want you to swear on the life of that man," she said, pointing to Rock.

    For a moment, I questioned this behavior. "Why?"

    "I'm not stupid. You respect this man. He's a close part of your circle. You wouldn't want to lose him to anything, would you?"

    I smiled again, removing my right gauntlet and handing it to a soldier before reaching down to help her up. "It's a deal," I told her. I could make this work to my advantage.

    She accepted it, if cautiously, and as the men backed off, she rose to her feet. Briefly brushing off her knees and straightening out, she looked again at me but then at my prisoner. "You have matters to attend to, I see."

    "How very kind of you to take these things into consideration," I said mildly, turning away from her slightly. I added to her, "Excuse me a moment, madam." She waved a hand in dismissal, folding her arms under her chest as she prepared to wait.

    I turned back to my prisoner, removing my other gauntlet and handing it to the same soldier. Rubbing my sore wrists absently, I asked him again, "Will you speak?"

    This time, the man seemed to consider his options. "I want to be paid," he demanded.

    "Your life is the price of information, so consider your bounty to be your head remaining in its current position. Of course, if you'd like, I could bury you with some odd sum of gold," I replied coldly.

    He was quiet again before trying again. "Give me the woman and let me leave. I'll tell you anything you want."

    I heard the disgusted scoff that escaped the woman, but I didn't immediately pay her any attention. "Do you know the woman?"

    "Yes," the man told me.

    "He's a filthy liar," she instantly contradicted. "I don't know him and I refuse to be sold for pervert fodder." I still didn't look at the woman; let her think I was considering it. I never liked to let people think they had me pinned. I heard her speak again but it wasn't directed at me. "Please tell me that he's not honestly considering this!"

    Rock didn't answer her, but rather asked me softly, "Sir?"

    I walked up to the man, taking a sword straight from the sheath of a man as I passed him. He didn't flinch or react when I took it; he merely accepted it as what was going to happen. I absently swung the blade for a moment before turning to the man, looking down at him and asking the question. "Do you swear that you would talk?"

    "I swear it. Give me what I want, and I'll talk."

    I paused a moment before tossing Bolt a look, who passed it along. The woman was covertly surrounded so she couldn't make a break for it. As soon as Bolt returned the look to me, I said suddenly, "It's a deal." Immediately, the woman started fighting back against the ten men who jumped her. I kept my back to her, saying loudly, "Of course, I want my information before you get anything."

    The man nodded, lecherously looking over at the woman. "Sure; what do you want to know?"

    "We'll talk when we get back to camp. Until then, however, the woman will be kept from you as I can't be giving you the payment without having my product. Do I make sense?" The man just nodded again, too busy staring at the woman.

    As I passed her, she spat at me, "You're a sick b*****d. I can't believe I even thought for a second that you might be a decent man, you twisted ********!"

    I stopped, not speaking for a moment before looking at her and just smiling, a bit sadly. "I'm sorry you feel that way." Then I walked away.


    Interrogations took about an hour at most. He told me where the rest of his men were camped, where they were heading, and that they had a grand total forty thousand gold to be served to some merchant in exchange for smuggling goods into the country. Bolt, Rock, and I had a brief chat on what we'd do about the information, with the man placed in the care of six men who were more than capable of making sure he didn't go anywhere for the moment. I wanted to make sure that Bolt and Rock hadn't thought of anything to ask. Since they hadn't, I gave the order for the man to be walked out of the camp… and killed.

    This was both cruel and inhumane, but seeing as there was no chance of making sure he didn't rat about the camp or what he'd told us… He had to die. Besides, I wasn't actually going to give him the girl.

    Remembering the girl, I commented offhandedly to Bolt, "Do you think she'll try to kill me when I walk into the tent to tell her?"

    "Most likely," my friend replied with a laugh.

    "Oh, beautiful."