“Sophia wasn’t the first to want your blood, eh, Toldar?” Rowan asked.
“No,” Barros said. “And by the looks of it she won’t be the last.”
“Where’s your base of operations, Rowan?” Piero asked. “I’d love to see what you did with all that gold the Huntrey gave you. I hope there’s nothing out in the open where Namzal could get at it.”
“By the Shaman, no. I have a den underneath my home. If I wasn’t careful, Namzal would have discovered my true intentions long ago,” Rowan said.
“So you really do worship the Shaman? I didn’t believe that the Highlanders truly believed in them,” Barros said.
“Yes, of course we do, but now is not the place to talk about it. Follow me gentlemen,” Rowan said. “And you had both best be quick about it.”
“What about your friend?” Piero asked.
“Leave him, men die in their tents all the time here,” Rowan said. “Wolves, the snow, anything can end our morality prematurely. If anyone asks I’ll cover for you. Now come, quickly.”
Rowan owned a spacious wooden hut. It was at least five times the size of the one where Barros and Piero had killed the other Highlander. It rested no more than a bow shot away from the tumble nets, perched atop a hill from which the whole Highlander village was visible. Barros looked down into the wild masses of tents and huts that seemed to be overflowing with the giant men that were presently stumbling around as if they were drunk.
The Hunters were greeted with a small entrance that split off into two separate corridors once inside. Both led onto a main oval room in the center of the house. Further back, Barros could see a bedchamber upstairs with more rooms breaking off on either side.
“This is it? There’s nothing here!” Barros said.
“You young Hunters never see anything clearly. We live in a world full of deception and nothing is as it seems,” Rowan said. He puffed out his enormous chest as he chuckled. “Look.”
The Highlander knelt beside a bear rug, strewn across the floor and shook his head. Throwing it back, he dug his index finger into the floorboards and pressed down on something. Barros took a step back as gears turned and clunked against each other. From out of nowhere, a staircase took shape, each rung sliding out from underneath the previous.
“That’s bloody impressive,” Piero said.
“Thanks, it took me a whole month just to build it. I had some help of course, but it was definitely worth it, even if I broke a thumb trying to get the main mechanisms turning in the right places,” Rowan said. “Now if you gentlemen would kindly spread some light in there as we go down, that’ll be of a great assistance to me and our guests that will be arriving shortly.”
“What guests?” Barros asked as he started down the stairwell.
“The men that are going to help us overthrow Namzal and release his toxic hold over this village. I’ve been reaching out to my people, ones not corrupted by Namzal, for months and at last we might have enough men to make a decent stand while someone kills Namzal,” Rowan said.
“And I assume that someone would be us?” Piero asked.
“Well now that you mention it, I was going to give a couple of weapons to the boys and tell them to sort out who gets to kill Namzal.” Rowan laughed before returning to a serious grimace. “But now that you’ve asked, Piero, I don’t see who would be better suited to the job of killing the most evil son of a bitch to walk around Taagras since Tal’davin himself. Now you need some weapons by the look of you. No good trying to kill the Count with that cleaver you have.”
“I could try,” Barros said. "I hate to tell you, but Sophia is by far the worst Vampire I’ve come across. Namzal will not put me to the test. He doesn't have an amulet, as far as we know, but he does have my son. Would you know anything about that, Rowan?"
“Aye, he took a child with him. We need to move quickly. Come in here.” Rowan beckoned the Hunters into a room that was lined with weapons.
Crossbows and swords of every size stood out amongst axes and knives. Barros marveled at the pristine weapons before him, running his fingers up the blade of a sword that was identical to the one he had lost, stolen from him by Namzal, minus the ancient runes. Piero also selected a sword several inches longer than his own, testing its speed and balance with several fast cuts and parries, sparring with an invisible foe.
Rowan went to the back of the room. Standing over a large black cauldron he dropped in a shovel and began to stir it. Inside, the Fyndfire bubbled and boiled. It was not yet ready for use on the Hunter weaponry that was organized around them.
“Will you two be fine here if I go and gather the men?” Rowan asked. He stepped back from the cauldron satisfied with its progress.
“Yeah, you don’t have any food, do you?” Barros asked.
Rowan rolled his eyes. “You young Hunters need to learn that you don’t always get to be comfortable. Piero remember the time we were trapped in the Windswept Desert for a week without any food and only a canister of water between the two of us?”
“Who were we taking out? Gundral or something wasn’t it?” Piero asked.
“Dundrak, I think it was. He found us in that cave.”
“Oh yeah, that’s how you got the scar on your arm,” Piero said. “Hopefully you don’t get more today.”
“I will bleed for my village if need be. Now I need you two to organize an assault. I’ve already drawn a plan up in my head but you two might be able to spot something I can’t. I have fifty men and I don’t know how many Namzal will have,” Rowan said. He pulled a map out from underneath a pile of others on a square wooden table. “Whatever Namzal has planned this evening, he will be carrying it out in the main square which is located here.” With one giant finger Rowan pointed to the center of the map.
“There’s going to be a hell of a lot of Highlanders in there,” Barros said. “How is anyone going to get close to him?”
“They won’t have to,” Piero said. He bit his lip. “What’s that there out by itself, Rowan?”
“That’d be a small gazebo I built a few years ago to commemorate my wife. It’d fit one person on top of it, giving them a good vantage point. I imagine the stand where Namzal will be making his announcement from will be just within range and whoever is shooting will be just out of sight,” Rowan said. “Now I need to get the men organized before we strike. I should return just after dusk.”
The Hunters went to work, examining the maps of the village. Barros frowned as he came across something peculiar. He looked up and gestured at Piero. “What in the hell’s that?”
“Ah, it’s the Highlander language. Same one that the Vampires use.”
“Wait, you’re telling me that the Highlanders speak the ancient language as well? That’d explain why Namzal has been able to manipulate so many of them in such a short amount of time,” Barros said. “What a cunning bastard. What’s this even mean?”
“I did tell you I spoke the language, I just didn't tell you which one it was. In the Clouds, that’s the name of this village. Even to this day I still haven’t worked out why you wouldn’t give something a proper name,” Piero said. "It's clear today, but usually we'd be surrounded by mist."
“Well they’re your people,” Barros said. "Guess they take things literally."
“I’m only a Highlander by name, nothing more. The Hunters are my people now and have been for decades. Ever since I first left these mountains. You best remember that next time you think about running off on us with another Vampire,” Piero said, his was face unreadable.
“I made that mistake once, it won’t happen again,” Barros said. The map fell by his side.
“Good, get some food for me, will you? We’ll be down here a while and I’m starving.” Piero sunk down into a low wooden chair.
“I don’t take orders from you.” Barros put his fist on the table. “If you want food, you go get it yourself. I’ve got planning to do.”
“I’m the senior Hunter here. You’ll do as I fucking tell you
to,” Piero said. His voice cracked like a whip. “Need I remind you, what fool married a Vampire, betraying his brothers in the process? You’re damn lucky I didn’t have you executed as soon as you ran her off. Maria would have served as enough of a witness to pass the law. So unless you want to have Rowan informed of your misdeeds in Sauria, thus making him a witness, I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut and don’t do anything stupid. Even you couldn’t take down Rowan and fifty Highlanders.”
Barros glared at the older Hunter. “You’re making threats against me? I’m one of the last fucking Toldars. Do you really think that’s wise, Piero? I won’t forget this. But since it’s within my best interests to return to the Huntrey, I suppose I have no other option to prove to you how dominant I will be once I am reinstated.”
“Your dominance over most foes you’ve come across is the reason why I didn’t execute you,” Piero said. “I have no reason to trust you, and you have little or no reason to like me. For now I’m willing to put this behind us like civilized men. We have a job to do.”
“I agree. If I’m to have a decent chance of killing Namzal, I need every Hunter I can muster behind me. Let me do what I do best and we won’t have any issues.” Barros turned to head up into the house. “I’m going to see what Rowan has for us to eat.”
Rowan returned an hour later with twenty men behind him. They all were taller than the Hunters and headed straight into the armory. Barros peered around the corner at them as they selected weapons, then looked back at Rowan.
“Twenty men? Didn’t you say you had a few more or do you plan on carrying an assassination with a distraction team that’ll be cut down in a heartbeat?”
“I’ve told them to stagger the arrivals. That way we should avoid a lot of suspicion. Like I said Barros, deception, it really is a wonderful tool to have at your disposal,” Rowan said. “Now tell me, who’s going to be making the kill shots?”
“I will,” Barros said. “And to be honest with you, I don’t think Namzal will be slowed down even if I hit him with a hundred bolts. The last time I met him, he managed to soak up everything I threw at him. Took each bolt on his arm and he happened to be wearing a plate there. He's crafty, I'll give him that.”
There was a loud scraping noise from behind them and Barros turned to see more Highlanders entering the den from a secret passageway. Each of them looked furious and covered in what smelt like feces. Most of them had a weapon drawn as they stooped through the freshly made hole in the wall hidden behind a painting that depicted Rowan charging into battle.
“Are these your men?” Barros asked drawing his sword. “How do we know?”
“Calm down, Barros. Of course they are. Now let them pass or I’ll have your fucking head. I still have Piero to make the kill shots,” Rowan said.
“I bet Piero wouldn’t be so bold to do what needs to be done in order to prove his mettle.”
Without warning, one of Barros’ eyes flashed red. He sheathed his sword and walked away fuming before kicking at the nearest man. The Highlander snarled at Barros, turning on him, launching a right hand forward. Barros ducked under the heavy blow and danced around the Highlander, kicking him in the back of the knee, bringing him down.
“Barros! Stop! Get the fuck off him!”
Barros looked up slowly at Rowan as he struggled to control the Highlander’s head. The man took advantage of the brief distraction, sending an elbow into the Hunter’s midsection. Barros recoiled and wrapped his forearm under the chin of the Highlander attempting to wear him down.
“Barros!” Piero said with a throwing knife raised over his head. “Let him go or I’ll put this between your fucking eyes.”
Tension climbed as the Hunters glared at each other. The Highlander in Barros’ grip was turning a bright shade of red. Piero raised his eyebrows and inched the knife back. Barros curled his upper lip, pulling tighter on the Highlander before letting the man go and pushing him to the ground. The den was filled with silence and Piero lowered his knife. Every man in the room had his eyes locked on Barros.
Rowan pulled Piero to the side and lowered his voice. “What the fuck is wrong with him?”
“I don’t know,” Piero said. “You need to sell this to your men, that it was nothing more than a display. If there’s one man here that’s going to kill Namzal, it’ll be Barros. He’s good. They need to know that.”
“Right,” Rowan said. He stepped forward to stand over Barros and began speaking in the Highlander tongue. “What you just witnessed, gentlemen, was a mere demonstration of what this man can do. I have spoken at end for months about a dark cloud that hangs over our village like the plague itself, killing at whim. This man, Barros Toldar can end it. Follow me in battle, let Barros do what he does best and we will be free men!”
Barros looked back to Piero. “What did he just say?”
“He just put all the hopes of these men on your shoulders. Rowan said beating that man proves you’re the one that’s going to destroy the corruption that is inside this village. I hope you’re up to the task of killing our friend Namzal.”
13
Takedown
Rowan’s men marched down the hillside into the main center of the village where thousands of Highlanders were gathering to see Namzal. As they walked, Barros saw the gazebo from where he would shoot. Beyond that he could see the target, a large stand at the end of the grounds. There was no cover that he could make out, unless someone managed to hide either under or behind the platform.
The Highlanders quickly reached the gazebo and moved past it, Barros slipping out undetected by anyone in the area. He threw the crossbow onto the shingles of before jumping and pulling himself onto the arched roof of the small structure. While it was not high, even the slight height advantage gave Barros an excellent shooting position over the relatively flat field that the Highlanders were gathered in.
Piero kept close to Rowan as they made their way into the crowds that were waiting anxiously for Namzal to make his appearance. A short while later, a buzz came over the assembled people and Namzal appeared from behind the stage, flanked by two guards that dwarfed him. He wore no helmet, allowing his shoulder length jet-black hair to flow naturally.
At a distance of nearly three hundred meters, Namzal presented a very small target and the slight wind did not help Barros’ cause. The Count threw his hands up into the air, sending many of the Highlanders into a frenzy. “Macht! Macht! Macht!” They chanted slowly until Namzal lowered his arms. A grin spread across his face.
“My children!” Namzal said out in the basic language. Barros frowned, unsure of why the Count would be addressing the Highlanders in what was not their native language. “Tomorrow at dawn we change the face of Taagras and impact the lives of every human that lives upon it. We will storm from our homes amongst the clouds and take the city of Rhorn by force. We shall stand with every tribe in these mountains behind us. No doubt the Sauriaan army will put up a defense but from within their walls, we will be unstoppable. Once the Sauriaan army is defeated we will conquer their precious Sauria and make it our own! Generations of Renori could not push through the Rhorn Pass, yet we will succeed where so many have failed! We will wipe out the Sauriaan army and with their military gone we can produce and prosper more than ever before!”
Barros rolled his eyes at Namzal’s claims. Over the years, dozens of warlords had risen up around Taagras, seeking Rhorn as a rich prize, yet none had succeeded. Strategically speaking whatever force controlled it, controlled the Rhorn Pass, making it an excellent staging ground for an army. The city was too well defended for any force so far to conquer it. He doubted that fifty thousand undisciplined Highlanders, spread throughout villages in the Rhorn Mountains, would be enough to take one of the great Sauriaan cities. But then again, no force so large had made the attempt.
“Some of you may be doubtful that this is achievable. However, for months every available smith in these mountains has been gathered at a secret location. Building weapons of war that wi
ll enable us to conquer Sauria!” Namzal paused, letting the Highlanders roar before continuing. “In addition, forty-nine thousand of our kind move to join us from Alilletia, doubling our forces!”
Barros gasped and nearly rolled off the gazebo in shock. One hundred thousand Highlanders roaming across Taagras presented a far greater threat, a force larger than all seven countries could muster individually. In a one on one engagement, the Highlanders would be ruthless and could potentially destroy each fighting force in Taagras. With most countries barely able to exchange pleasantries over trading food, the odds of an alliance forming to defeat the Highlander threat were nonexistent.
“Namzal, what is this madness?” Rowan said, from somewhere near the front. “What do you possibly hope to achieve? We Highlanders belong here above the clouds, not down there with the small people! And what of you, my kin? Why do you listen to this man that only a few months ago was a stranger?”
“Many of us wish to explore the lands below, Rowan!” a Highlander said in response. “You’ve had the opportunity to be a giant among them, why can’t the rest of us?” He was met with cries of agreement. “Shame on you, Rowan, that you would have us locked up here in the mountains with nobody but our own!”
“This is madness.” Barros muttered to nobody but himself.
“No! Shame on you for following a man that has no moral standing and isn’t even human, let alone a Highlander! This madness ends tonight! Barros, now!” Rowan said drawing his axe.
The first bolts were already flying to the three men on the podium before Rowan had uttered the final word. Two found their marks, placing precisely between the eyes of Namzal’s bodyguards. The third bolt sailed over the Count’s head. He now taunted Barros, his arms outstretched, an evil laugh rumbling from deep within his chest. Frustrated, Barros fired again, but instead Namzal caught it and threw it into the throat of the nearest Highlander. Whether the man was killed or not, Barros couldn't tell.
The Toldar Series Box Set Page 9
