The Charmer was found with the same witless expression and glazed eyes of her other conquests, muttering just as those who fell before him.
“Eh…eh…la bandita stole my heart.”
A few days later, the most exclusive courtesan in the city waited for the lover who never came.
Adrianna had not heard the fate that befell the Charmer, and she was livid he dared not keep their appointment.
She had never suffered this indignity before.
She was as notorious for her temper as she was renowned for her allure, and her fury was at its peak when another courtesan came with the dreadful news about her favorite lover.
Then the wrath of Adrianna the Beautiful was all for Ella Bandita.
It was the legendary Courtesan who gathered the women together.
Adrianna the Beautiful made her first visit with her lover’s near widow.
They had a long meeting, Adrianna staying for the better part of the day until she made a rival into a friend. The wife and the mistress sacrificed their most precious jewels to start a reward for the capture of the woman who had felled the Charmer.
Word spread fast.
The other wives and courtesans didn’t need much convincing to join them.
This sisterhood seemed incredible at first, but once the women set their grievances aside, it made sense.
Deprived of widowhood, the Charmer was committed to an asylum where he would be for the rest of his life, and his wife would never be free to marry again. Plenty of ladies shared her fate and courtesans lost some measure of comfort when their lovers were destroyed.
Ella Bandita was a genuine threat to them all, and she had to be stopped.
The women were confident they would find their hero amongst those hired to use outlaw ways to bring outlaws to justice.
Bounty hunters had the freedom to use methods forbidden to lawmen, and theirs was a lonesome calling. Since they gained in wages what they lost in respect, these men dreamed of earning enough to buy a modest estate and retire as a Patron.
The fortune of the women’s jewels was enough to realize this dream for the man who captured or killed the Thief of Hearts.
It wasn’t long before the price on Ella Bandita was the highest ever for a single fugitive.
But to the ladies’ surprise, not one bounty hunter came forth, even though all of them were tempted.
The bounty was unsavory, the first put on the life of a woman and not just any woman.
Perhaps it was fortunate coincidence, but entire villages were liberated from oppression whenever she conquered a tyrant. Many were grateful when she destroyed a Patron who had made their lives a misery.
Ella Bandita was universally feared, but she also had her admirers.
The last to hear about the reward was the man who accepted, the one most despised in his profession.
This Bounty Hunter was a roughneck to his core, devoid of scruples and full of greed. He almost looked a dwarf with short limbs and a powerful torso, his large head and wide face covered with shaggy black hair and beard.
The Bounty Hunter seemed absurd to the women when he promised them relief from their distress within weeks. He hardly looked their picture of a hero.
But he was the only man who came forth, so they were cordial to him.
Not that the Bounty Hunter would have cared if the ladies had been rude. The fortune was all that mattered to him. The thought of it made his mouth water.
Ella Bandita formally became an outlaw once the bounty was accepted.
The lawmen announced she was to be brought to them alive. She was wanted in several countries and failure to cooperate would reap severe consequences.
The Bounty Hunter started in early spring, at the outset of fashionable seasons that would last through the summer, when the Thief of Hearts would be on the prowl. He was confident he’d find her within weeks.
But his prey proved more elusive.
The Bounty Hunter tracked her haunts as he heard about them. He scoured the country and depleted most of his modest fortune for a fresh track that would lead him to her.
Like most greedy people, the Bounty Hunter was miserly.
He probably would have quit if his search hadn’t cost him everything. He had never come across a quarry so elusive. So much so that he became obsessed.
And the lighter his purse became, the more his obsession grew.
The fashion seasons were coming to an end and he had spent almost everything he had.
The ladies were impatient, and almost as bitter as the Bounty Hunter.
Then he found his first real lead.
Ella Bandita had struck several days before in the last of a series of fashion towns. But the witnesses there gave the same answers they had everywhere else.
The interviews was tedious, and the Bounty Hunter was no closer to his mark.
His frustration got the better of him one day and he ignored the appointments made for that afternoon to run his mare through the woods.
That’s when he found it.
During his ride, the Bounty Hunter came to a bald spot in the trees.
The undergrowth had been brushed away, leaving raw earth dotted with tufts of small green shoots.
He pulled his horse to a stop and sniffed.
The Bounty Hunter could almost swear that smoke still lingered in the air as he dismounted.
Plowing the earth with one foot, he dragged the clearing until he found what he was looking for, bits of charred wood. Digging deeper, he found larger pieces with ashes mixed in the dirt where her fire pit was buried.
When he found a scrap of cloth, likely torn from a tent, the Bounty Hunter knew he had found her shelter.
He scanned the site, imagining how it must have looked a month before when Ella Bandita had made her camp there.
The Bounty Hunter shook his head over the money he spent on lodgings where he assumed a lone woman would reside.
What a fool he had been.
Everybody he spoke with said she had the grubby look of a vagabond.
Yet he had never considered the woods.
And if he had, he would have found her months ago.
All the cities and villages she traveled had a forest beyond the town walls, usually just outside the gates.
His heart pounded. The Bounty Hunter imagined the fortune that would be his now that he finally knew where to hunt his prey.
He found Ella Bandita two weeks later.
