The Hunter's Gambit

by Nicholas McIntire

  “We’ll do our best.” Hade said meekly.

  “That’s all I can ask.”

  Aleksei turned away from the Magi, glancing at the mass of lurching beasts. Dealing with one in the sewer had been disturbing, but standing there, watching a mob of the creatures lunging towards them…Aleksei felt as though he’d stepped into the depths of the damned.

  “Mother Wood, may your Hunter prove true this day.” he whispered, drawing his sword.

  He felt the marking across his shoulders warm as though in response. He glanced back at the Knights, “Remember, stay as far back as you dare.”

  They looked perplexed, but nodded.

  Aleksei returned his attention to the advancing horde. They were getting closer. He stepped forward to meet them, glancing at the sides of the mob to see when they would hit the Magi’s wards. A moment later the first of them was on him.

  He cut into it, working with great difficulty to avoid consideration for who this had been before. It was painful knowing that each nightmarish face had once belonged to a man or woman, knowing that they had families, children, who could be watching at this moment from nearby buildings. Families they would tear apart if given the chance.

  But the terrible truth of the matter was that those people were no longer among the living; only their twisted, mutated bodies remained.

  Aleksei struck without inhibition or caution. He attacked strategically, his cuts designed to inflict the most bodily damage. The first beast lost its head in a swipe that ended in a cross slash that bisected the second. As more and more pressed in upon him, he cut faster.

  A chop to the neck, backslash across the middle, upswing cutting from left hip to right shoulder. Each one fell before him and as they began to pile up so too did the press of the beasts behind them stumble upon their fallen companions.

  Still, the sheer weight of numbers threatened to overwhelm him. He began to cut just an arm or leg away from his attackers before shoving them past him to the other Knights. The Magi barriers were working, but with the relentless nature of the beasts it was difficult to maintain the same level of brutal efficiency. He swept off another head, following it with a jagged uppercut that split the next creature nearly in twain.

  Yet for every one he cut down, three took its place. Aleksei realized that he was losing ground. His sword quickened, driven by his ferocious need for survival. He cut into them with a renewed savagery, keeping his sword high and cutting through necks and shoulders with brutal speed. Still they came.

  He swung hard to the left and split one in half. In that moment he saw two from the right lunge for him.

  Time slowed.

  Shift. Aleksei twisted, allowing the momentum of his swing to carry him in a near circle. He brought his sword high in a spinning arc that cut both beasts down in the same swipe. Another creature lunged from the center and Aleksei changed the course of the swing to clip half of the monster’s head clear off.

  Bits of bone and brain showered him, covering his exposed torso with gore. He fought on, oblivious to the growing burn of the markings on his shoulders.

  Behind him, the Knights had stopped fighting. Not a single creature had made it past Aleksei for the last five minutes.

  Instead they stood there, staring in disbelief as their Lord Captain fought, moving with a speed that should have been impossible. The strange markings across his shoulders and upper arms, black when the battle began, were now glowing an intense crimson. No one knew what to make of such a strange occurrence, but neither did they question it.

  Aleksei suddenly faltered, crying out in pain and falling to a knee. Vadim rushed forward and speared the foremost creature on his sword, kicking it back into the horde. It was quickly trampled and crushed beneath the relentless churning of the onslaught. At the same time Marrik moved in and grasped Aleksei’s arms, pulling him out of the path of the oncoming mass.

  “There’s too many of them!” Vadim shouted as he swung again and again, taking down another beast each time, but yet hardly managing to affect their numbers.

  Aleksei rose unsteadily to his feet and looked at Marrik, whose arm reached out to help steady him, “Go help the others. Split the oncoming between the five of you. I’ll be right back.”

  He turned and started away from the field.

  “What are you going to do?” Marrik shouted.

  “Harvest.” Aleksei called back.

  Aleksei worked his way away from the battlefield. He noted Vadim’s snarled disdain and a few of the Magi move to prevent him from leaving the field of combat with their horses, but Ilyana reigned them in with a sharp word and they obeyed. He offered her a nod of thanks as he moved away from the killing field, his stride strengthening with each step.

  He knew what he needed. He knew how to stop the bloody beasts, but he needed a weapon that was his own. His Legionnaire blade slipped from his bloody fingers as he finally found himself standing in the heart of a barn, hauling a rusty scythe with a clean, razor-sharp edge from its perch and hefting it over his shoulder.

  Aleksei could hear the sound of sword on flesh, the curses of men as they battled back an enemy that knew neither pain nor fear of death.

  That so many had died at the claws of these creatures invigorated him with a rage unlike anything he’d ever known. He was bleeding from multiple wounds, but those would heal. The dead, on the other hand, could rise at the pleasure of whatever madman was crafting this lunacy.

  He circled behind the majority of the horde, taking only a moment to study the flimsy barriers the Magi had erected to channel the revenants towards his Knights. He glanced towards the Relvyn Wood and shuddered at the sheer number of lurching forms moving towards the five unwitting Archanium Knights he’d left behind.

  Aleksei hefted his scythe and strode out into the pasture, watching the encroaching horde. As he stopped stock-still in the center of the grass, some of the revenants pressing in on his men took notice and turned, sighting fresh meat.

  Aleksei felt a familiar thrill run through him. The first revenant stumbled within range.

  Swing. Aleksei ignored the protest from his muscles as the scythe cut through muscle and horn. Cut. He lost himself in the rhythm, each offending limb severed, each offered opportunity taken. Swing. His body twisted to the right, reaping over-ripened flesh. Cut. He pulled the blade back, ripping another soul asunder.

  Swing.

  Marrik stared ahead at the oncoming tide of horn and bone. Between the five of them they kept the beasts back without losing too much ground. As he fought he wondered how the Magi were holding up. While he knew this was far more in the realm of their talents than fire, or even healing, he wasn’t sure if they were up to this level of intensity. But if those wards failed, things would become very dire indeed.

  The tide of creatures suddenly slowed. They still came with the same unrelenting lurch, but there weren’t as many of them. Finally there were only a handful between the Knights.

  “What happened?” Marrik shouted. “Where’d they go?”

  He cut down the last one coming towards him and searched for Aleksei. What he saw made his heart stagger a beat.

  Aleksei stood in the field beyond the Magi’s boundaries, holding a gory scythe. The field around the Knight was thick with the corpses of the creatures. Each had been sundered horribly, spilling gore and long-stilled blood across the field.

  Aleksei advanced towards them, his bare torso covered in blood, one arm protectively covering his chest, the other holding the blood-soaked scythe. As he came closer, he discarded the scythe with disgust.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  Marrik winced at the exhaustion that weakened his voice. “Yes, yes we’re all fine.” He was still trying to overcome the image of Aleksei carrying that dripping scythe.

  For just a moment, with those blazing markings across his arms and shoulders, he had looked like Volos Himself.

  “What about the Magi?” Aleksei asked.

/>   Marrik realized that he hadn’t seen them since the battle was joined. He turned and scanned the field. He moaned when he finally saw them, lying crumpled on the ground.

  Vadim was already trying to bring Hade back around when Aleksei reached them.

  “They’re exhausted.” Vadim said, though there was no trace of bitterness in his voice. “They used everything they had.”

  Aleksei studied each Magus carefully. Jonas had told him that Magi had died from overexerting themselves. “Keep them there.” he said finally. “Hold their heads back so they don’t choke on their tongues. I’ll be right back.”

  Marrik looked up at the Knight in confusion, “Where are you going?”

  Aleksei didn’t answer. He simply kept walking until he was swallowed by the deepening shadows of the Relvyn Wood. Aleksei had spent his entire life either in the Wood or on a farm. In that time he had learned a good deal about the healing properties of certain plants.

  But becoming a Hunter had heightened his awareness of the various balances in the Wood beyond anything he had learned through experience alone; the poisons and antidotes, the plants that could heal and those that could stop a heartbeat. It took him only minutes to find what he sought, the fuzzy yellow leaves of the meramie plant.

  He emerged from the trees to find the other Knights frantic with worry. They stared at him in confusion as he knelt next to two of the unconscious Magi. Taking the meramie leaves into his mouth, Aleksei quickly crushed them with his teeth. He spat out the residual liquid and pulled the sticky amber paste from his mouth, dividing it swiftly it into five pieces. He placed a piece under each Magus' lower lip.

  “What is that?” Vadim asked.

  “Meramie.” Aleksei said quickly, moving between the five remaining Magi. “It’s a plant that’s usually given to mothers during childbirth to give them added strength. It stimulates the heart and mind, but if used too frequently it can cause arrest or brain fever.”

  The Knights exchanged worried glances with one another.

  “How long does it take to work?” Daro’s Knight Telkun asked.

  “A few minutes. The sap from the leaves has to enter the bloodstream and reach the heart. It’ll take just a few more minutes to kick in. Just make sure you take it out when they wake. You don’t want them to swallow it.”

  Ilyana’s eyes suddenly snapped open and she inhaled sharply. Marrik pulled back her lower lip and withdrew the amber paste, discarding it behind him. The others sat up a moment later. Hade shook his head and spat the leaves out in disgust.

  “Dear gods, what was that?” he moaned, spitting at the ground.

  “Something that just saved your lives.” Marrik said gravely.

  “Is it over?” Ilyana asked, staring at the carnage that surrounded her.

  Aleksei nodded, “At least for the moment. I harbor no illusions that we’ve dealt with all of them.”

  “We can’t keep this up.” Vadim grunted. “Sooner or later we’re going to be overrun, and then what?”

  “I intend to deal with it before that has a chance to happen.” Aleksei said simply.

  “How?” Hade asked, rubbing his head.

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to wait and hear what Jonas has to say when he arrives. But I agree we cannot continue to fight them this way.”

  “When will Jonas arrive?”

  Aleksei shrugged, “I can’t say. I expect it will be in the next day or two.”

  “And what if they attack before then?” Ilyana asked nervously.

  Aleksei looked into her eyes and she gasped at the depth of dread and worry that radiated from him, “Pray they don’t.”

  A soft rap sounded at the door and Jonas looked up from his book.

  “Enter.”

  Aya stepped in, Raefan hovering just behind her. Jonas allowed himself a smile.

  “What did you want to see me about?” she asked.

  Jonas lifted his book, and in the firelight Aya caught sight of the title.

  The Demon Cassian.

  “Jonas, what is that?”

  He stood and handed her the book. “The answer to a great many questions.”

  From his grim expression, Aya knew it wasn’t an answer Jonas had wanted to hear.

  “What do you need me to do?”

  Jonas turned to the large window that dominated the southern wall of his library. “I need you to read this. When you’ve finished, give it to Andariana. It’s imperative that she understand the contents of this book, and quickly.”

  “And you?” she asked softly.

  “I’m leaving for Drava. Aleksei will need me there as swiftly as possible, but I need you to close the window for me after I’ve gone. I don’t want anyone to know I left from my chambers.”

  Aya nodded stoically, “As you say.”

  He drew her into an embrace, then stepped to the casement and stepped onto the ledge. In a heartbeat he’d melted into a small falcon.

  Jonas leapt from the ledge and allowed his wings to stretch, to catch the current and bear him higher and higher into the night.

  The night’s revelations had been sobering. He knew what they were up against, and for the first time in his life, it filled him with utter despair. He had never wanted to be so mistaken in his entire life.

  But this time he knew he was right. The pieces fit too perfectly.

  He stared out across the horizon, taken by the beauty of his realm. The way the woods slowly gave ground to rolling hills. In the moonlight the entire countryside was bathed in ghostly white, giving the land the illusion of absolute purity. It felt like he was dreaming.

  Every now and then, the tranquility was punctured by a campfire, but on the whole it seemed Ilyar was sleeping peacefully.

  A profound sadness fell over him.

  Gods, that it could stay like this forever.

  CHAPTER 25

  Spectres and Shades

  ALEKSEI PACED THE now-familiar length of his room, staring down at the small bedside table covered with a detailed map of the region and the congealing remains of his dinner. Red pins flagged various points on the map, indicating the areas where the creatures had been seen across the region. They were spreading.

  He sat down on the bed, head in his hands. They had yet to attack Drava again after the battle the day before, but that meant nothing. Perhaps they would simply move on to another village. And then what?

  There was a tapping at the window, but Aleksei ignored it. His head was full of scenarios, complex renderings of battle plans that couldn’t possibly be executed until reinforcements arrived from Mornj. When they arrived. He had sent two pigeons and a man on foot since his arrival, but the garrison had yet to respond.

  The tapping against the window resumed. Aleksei stood out of irritation, throwing it open and staring out into the night.

  A bird shot past him.

  Relief washed across his irritation. He shut the window tightly and rushed to the bed where the bird had landed.

  “It’s about time you got here.” he growled.

  The falcon shivered, then suddenly elongated into Jonas. The Magus smiled, “Miss me?”

  Aleksei shook his head, “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Well it can’t have been that bad, can it? I mean, not until you reached Drava.”

  Aleksei arched an eyebrow. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the writhing markings that dominated his upper arms and shoulders, the claws that reached beseechingly for his heart. They had cooled to their original black, but otherwise remained unchanged.

  “Dear gods.” Jonas whispered, standing and tentatively touching Aleksei’s left shoulder, following one of the designs with a finger. He jerked his hand away when the swirl of black began to spiral around his fingertip.

  “Do you know what it means?” Aleksei asked, though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know.

  “In a way. I think this…this is the Mantle, Aleksei. From wha
t I’ve read about Ri-Vhan Hunters, from what there is to read, only one was ever gifted the Hunter’s Mantle.”

  “Gifted?” Aleksei said doubtfully, “This is a gift?”

  “In theory. The Hunter has to prove himself worthy to bear the Mantle. But to even be given the chance is an incredible honor. You’d have to perform a great service to the Wood.”

  Jonas' green eyes lit with understanding, “What did you do?”

  The Knight sighed deeply, “I killed something. A giant serpent.”

  Jonas frowned, “Giant serpent? There aren’t any giant serpents in Ilyar.”

  “Not anymore.” Aleksei muttered, glancing out the window.

  “No,” Jonas said forcefully, “during the Kholod Wars they unleashed several kinds of ‘serpent’ against the Magi. These were so difficult to kill that after the war there was a massive purge of the realm for the eggs. They were called Salamanders. The Magi could only truly drive the Kholod away by ridding Ilyar of Kholod magic. The Salamanders were extensions of that magic, so they had to be destroyed as well. But I don’t understand how one survived this long.”

  “It was in the Heart of the Wood.” Aleksei said, shrugging. “She said they put it there to poison Her, but when they were driven out it went to sleep.”

  Jonas considered for a long moment, then the realization stuck him, “You’re telling me you killed a bloody Salamander?”

  Aleksei scowled, “I’m telling you I killed a giant serpent with white scales, white eyes, and the charming habit of breathing green fire.”

  Jonas stared at him, “You killed a Salamander.” It was not quite a statement of disbelief. Not quite.

  Aleksei nodded, “And as you know, I mark myself with the blood of my kill. It’s part of my bond with the Wood. It’s confirmation of my victory.”

  Jonas frowned, “So?”

  “So,” Aleksei said irritably, “when I got here a few days ago I took off my shirt to go to sleep, and instead of finding streaks of dried snake blood across my chest, I found this.”