Hunter's War (Legend of the Wild Hunter Book 4)

by Garry Spoor

  “Master Folkstaff. What brings you out here?” she asked.

  “Corporal Tullner, this is Kile Veller. Kile, this is Corporal Robert Tullner of Perha Squad.”

  Kile examined the young Corporal. He didn’t look much like a soldier. He looked more like a librarian or possibly a teacher. He was tall, thin with short cropped blond hair. He had bright blue eyes, which were hidden behind a pair of glasses, and his uniform was spotless. She wondered if he had ever seen any real combat. He appeared to be a little wooden, with his back straight, chest out, stomach in. She thought that was only for basic training, she didn’t really think they kept that up out in the field.

  She wasn’t sure how important his rank was, having never gotten them all sorted out in her head. Was she supposed to salute him, or wait for him to salute her, or was saluting even involved? The whole thing was just too confusing, so she simply waved.

  “Pleased to meet ya,” she said.

  “What? Um… yeah,” he stammered.

  So, teacher was out. He couldn’t be a teacher if he couldn’t form cohesive sentences, which left librarian.

  “You’re being assigned to Perha Squad, starting tomorrow,” Folkstaff announced.

  “Who? Me? Are you serious?” she asked.

  “Very. It appears Barshed has decided to send an advance team into the Denal province and since you have knowledge of the area, you are being assigned as their scout.”

  “This is a joke, or a mistake,” she said.

  “I’m afraid not,” Folkstaff replied, and pulled a tightly rolled parchment from his vest. He handed it to her.

  The last time she accepted a parchment from the Guild, it was a bounty placed on her head. She hesitated before unrolling it and read the message several times to be sure she understood it.

  “Now I know this is a joke,” She said, holding the parchment up.

  “I assure you, it is no joke.”

  “The same Guild who tried to have me executed for crimes I didn’t commit, now wants to promote me not one, but two levels.”

  “That is correct. As of today, you are a Certified Level Three Hunter.”

  “This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “To the Guild, it does,” Folkstaff replied, and she was sure she saw the hint of a smile behind that thick beard. “As you no doubt recall from your days at the Academy, scouting for the military is an automatic class B script. The lowest level permitted to be assigned a class B script, is a Level Three. Therefore, you have to be promoted to a Level Three. Welcome to Perha Squad.”

  “That’s ridiculous. What about Steele? He’s already a Level Three, and he knows the area as well as I do.”

  “Steele already has his assignment. He is running messages to and from the front line. It’s better suited to his Edge, as this is to yours.”

  “What about Marcus? He’s a Level Two.” she replied.

  There was a momentary pause, followed by a look of confusion. His face told her all she needed to know before he even tried to explain.

  “We thought about Marcus,” he said slowly, as if trying to remember. “But for some reason, when I spoke with him, it was decided it would be a bad idea.”

  Marcus Taylor’s Edge was the ability to persuade people who he made eye contact with. Of course it was a bad idea, if Marcus wanted it to be a bad idea.

  “If I see him again, I will kill him,” she replied.

  “Then it’s settled. You will report to Perha Squad first thing tomorrow morning,” Folkstaff said.

  She watched the young soldier follow the old Hunter back through the forest, before slumping down among the roots of the old willow tree. Well, she wanted to do something more than just sit around, but was this really what she had in mind? She was heading back into the Denal province, and to Coopervill. It’s been nearly a year since she was last there, that’s only if she didn’t count the overnight stay before she had to flee from the Hunters, and somehow, it didn’t really count.

  Coopervill was always lingering in the back of her mind, ever since they received news of its fall. It never stood a chance against the Uhyre. Why it was attacked in the first place, nobody knew. It was only a simple mining town after all, but for a brief period time, it was her home. She knew people back there, people she actually cared about, but no news came out of the Denal province since that day.

  Getting back to her feet, she collected what little belongings she had. Guild Master Latherby once described Hunters as vagabonds, carrying everything they owned on their backs. They never settled down, nor do they call any one place home for very long. They are constantly on the move, going where they are sent.

  He once asked her a very simple question. What are the four things every Hunter needs? They need a good heart, a good head on their shoulders, a good horse, and a good weapon, which was pretty much all she had left these days.

  - It’s about time. Does this mean we are finally going?-

  Grim asked in his unapologetic tone.

  “That depends on what you mean by going,” she said as she tied the pack to his harness.

  - Going, as in leaving this dismal place behind for something more civil.-

  “Civil? Looks who’s talking. Like you’ve ever been civil.”

  - Oh, and I assume you have.-

  “More so than you.”

  - Please.-

  “Well, I don’t know about civil, but we should get back to camp. Daniel will never forgive me if I don’t tell him what’s happening,” she said, pulling herself onto his back.

  Grim didn’t need her to tell him where to go, and it didn’t take them long before they were within sight of camp. It was still the crowded, noisy place filled with the odd smells she left. Daniel was waiting for her on the edge of the paddock and waved to her when she approached.

  - Oh, isn’t this sweet.-

  Grim snorted.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

  - Young love-

  “What? Oh please, don’t even go there. One more remark like that, and I’ll ship you back to the north lands myself.”

  “Are you two having an argument again?” Daniel asked when he came beside her.

  He was one of the few people who truly knew the uniqueness of her Edge.

  “It’s nothing,” she assured him.

  “I don’t know. You look a little flushed.”

  “I said it’s nothing. What are you doing out here anyway? Shouldn’t you be back in the med-tent plying your trade?”

  “That’s a little difficult to do when nobody needs a healer. You don’t get hurt if you don’t fight. Besides, I saw Folkstaff return with that corporal, and figured you wouldn’t be far behind,” Daniel said, helping her down from the pony. “So, what’s wrong? What did he want to see you about?”

  “Nothing important. I’ve just been assigned to some squad as a scout.”

  “A scout, you can’t be a scout, you’re not qualified.”

  “Oh yeah, I also got promoted.”

  ~~~***~~~

  3

  Kile yawned as she rode Grim into the heart of Base Camp Reilly. One night in section F and she was more tired than when she went to bed. She would have been better off had she spent her last night in the forest. At least then, she would have benefited from a good night’s sleep. Spending the night in the barracks only reminded her why she preferred to be alone. Her heightened senses, which were somehow connected to her Edge, were becoming harder to control, not that she had much control over them in the first place. They usually kicked in whenever they felt like it and shut off at the most inopportune times. Now, they seemed to be stuck in the on position. Noises seemed louder, her vision was sharper, even at night, but it was the smells which were the problem. Stuck in section F, with forty or fifty men and no decent bathing facilities, was more than she could stomach.

  She slowed Grim down when they crossed the compound so she could get a better idea of where she was. The differences between the base camp and section F wer
e quite staggering. There were men, in full uniforms, standing at attention while drill teams moved around the field in perfect little squares. If this was how they were going to fight the Uhyre, they were definitely in over their heads. It was no wonder the valrik controlled the battlefield and dictated the pace of the war.

  - Tin soldiers off to war, and the enemy quakes… with laughter.-

  Grim scoffed.

  “They’re doing their best,” Kile replied, but she had to wonder if it was going to be enough. She had seen the size of the valrik forces, and she was beginning to doubt whether the vir could weather this storm.

  “I think we should be looking for Perha Squad,” she said, pulling out her orders.

  She was supposed to report to a Sergeant Wargner before noon, and the sun was already climbing the eastern sky. The problem was, the orders didn’t give her detailed instructions on where to go. They simply stated she was to report to section B, subsection three. But all she saw was a vast sea of tents, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she was beginning to attract attention. A few of the soldiers noticed her and were watching her carefully. It was if they had never seen a young woman on a large black mountain pony before, but then again, they probably hadn’t.

  Holding the orders up, she pretended to read them, but in reality, she was sniffing the air. It took her a while to sort through the numerous odors of the surrounding area. They didn’t smell any better here than back in section F. One by one, she removed the smells until she found the one she needed. The scent of parchment, vanilla and just a hint of steel.

  “That way Grim,” she said, guiding the pony toward a section of the camp, which looked no different from any other section. It was a sea of canvas and they passed rows and rows of tents all neatly laid out, one behind the other, in a tidy little grid. She wondered if there was an officer with a measuring stick who made sure all the tents were lined up.

  Reaching one of the hitching posts, she stopped and dismounted. Vesper climbed down from the pony’s head and onto Kile’s shoulder. Normally, she wouldn’t think of leaving Grim this close to other horses, but there really wasn’t any place to put him where he couldn’t find trouble.

  “You’d better be good, until I return,” she told him.

  - Like there’s any fun to be had around here.-

  He grumbled and pushed his way past the horses to reach the watering trough.

  She was going to comment on his attitude, but thought better of it as she was still being watched by a few of the soldiers. These men could be in Perha Squad, and it wouldn’t do for her to make a bad first impression. They already thought Hunters were a strange lot and most of the military didn’t trust them. She removed Vesper from her shoulder, ignoring his protests, and placed him in the courier bag.

  From the hitching post she headed west, climbing a small hill which opened onto a clearing. It was inhabited by the same canvas tents which populated the rest of the camp, although now, they varied in size. She sniffed for the scent of the young soldier and tracked it to one of the tents.

  The only thing which set this one apart from the others, were the three banners hanging from a pole which was leaning slightly to the left. She recognized two of the banners. One bore the King’s colors. The other was for the province of Fennel. The remaining banner, she could only guess at. It was probably either the squad’s personal banner, or the Commander’s, but since there was no breeze, it was difficult to see the crest. Two armed guards stood on either side of the tent and watched her as she approached.

  “So, you found the place.”

  Turning, Kile saw the young soldier who accompanied Folkstaff with her orders, the young librarian who smelled of parchment, vanilla, and just a hint of steel.

  “Corporal… Tullner wasn’t it?” she asked.

  “Corporal Robert Tullner, although most people just call me Tully,” he replied with a grin. “We were afraid you had gotten lost.”

  “I’m not that lucky, although it would help to have a few signposts up.”

  “Actually, you kind of get used to the place, I mean, you did find us.”

  “I suppose,” she replied. She wasn’t going to tell him the only reason she found her way was because she tracked him by his smell. That probably wouldn’t go over too well, especially judging by the way the two guards were watching her.

  “I was going to come out and retrieve you myself,” Tullner said when he got closer. “But Sarge said, any Hunter, who couldn’t find their way, wasn’t a very good Hunter.”

  “Sarge?”

  “Sergeant Rodney Wargner, he’s in charge of Perha Squad and your commanding officer, at least for the time being.”

  “What’s he like?” she asked.

  “Like any other sergeant, I guess, but you’ll soon find out.” Tullner said with a gesture toward the Commander’s tent.

  “Wish me luck,” Kile said. She pulled the flap of the tent aside, and entered.

  It was dark. A single candle, sitting on a makeshift table, was the only source of light. She didn’t dare take another step into the tent for fear of tripping over something, and waited until her eyes adjusted to the general gloom.

  “So… you’re the Hunter they sent me.”

  It was a deep, gravelly voice, coming from the darkness. Only when the man looked up from his maps could she see his face in the candlelight.

  “Certified Level Five… I mean Level Three Hunter, Kile Veller, sir.”

  “Didn’t they teach you how to salute?” the man asked.

  “Oh… sorry, sir,” she replied, giving him a salute, or at least she hoped it was a salute. She didn’t have much practice.

  Pulling himself up out of his chair, he walked around the table. She would have described him as a large, square man. He had squared shoulders with a square chin and a square nose, even his hair was flat topped. He clasped his hand behind his back and slowly walked around her.

  “So, I ask for help, and this is what they send me… a little girl.”

  “Sir, I…”

  “I don’t remember giving you permission to speak,” he said in his soft gravelly voice. He came around to stand in front of her.

  “Let’s get one thing straight,” he started. “I didn’t ask for you, I don’t want you. As far as I’m concerned, the Hunters are nothing but a bunch of worthless, layabouts playing at war, and you… look at yourself. You’re not a soldier. You’re not even a man. Have you ever seen combat… missy?”

  “I can hold my own, sir,” she replied.

  “We’ll see about that,” he said with a very uncomfortable smile. “The problem, as I see it, is that I’m stuck with you. Colonel Barshed says I’m supposed to have a scout… and here you are. This has to be some kind of sick joke,” he said, returning to his seat. “Don’t expect any special treatment, because you won’t get any. You’ll have to keep up with the rest of my men. You’ll eat when we eat, you’ll sleep when we sleep. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” Kile replied.

  For some reason, she was taking an instant dislike for this man.

  “Then get the hell out of my sight.”

  She assumed that was his way of telling her she was dismissed, and quickly exited the tent. The sun felt surprisingly warm; or maybe it was because she was no longer under the chilling glare of her new commanding officer. That guy could give Master Boraro a run for his money, she thought.

  She spotted Tullner speaking with two other men. When he saw her, he excused himself. “It would appear you survived,” he said with a grin.

  “Barely,” she replied.

  “He’s really not that bad of a commander. He can be a bit… hard-nosed at times,” he explained, leading her toward the men he was just speaking with.

  “So, he’s always like that?”

  “Well, no, not really,” Tullner replied. “He’s been a bit out of sorts lately. Ever since he met with that man the other day. I think it had something to do with the mission into Denal.”

  “Man,
what man?”

  “I don’t know who he was. I’ve never seen him around here before. I’d remember, because he had white hair, which I thought was rather odd.”

  White hair, the only person Kile knew with white hair was Marcus Taylor, but why would he be visiting Sargent Wargner, especially since he managed to get out of the assignment. She supposed, it was possible, he was just giving the Sergeant some last minute information on the region, but why would that upset Wargner?

  “I think this mission into the Denal province has him a bit on edge, it has all of us on edge,” Tullner added.

  “Why’s that?”

  “There’s been no word from Denal since it fell; nobody knows what to expect.”

  “Why Denal… why now?” she asked.

  Tullner stopped walking and quickly glanced around. When he was sure nobody was within listening distance, he leaned toward her. “Well, scuttlebutt has it, that command is looking to break through the valrik lines, so it’s targeting its weakest points.” He explained. “Since most of the battles have occurred along the Fennel and Blackmore fronts, they’re hoping the northern section, in Denal, and the southern section along the cost of Sofland may prove vulnerable. We’re being sent into the Denal province to gather information, and get an idea of the Uhyre forces there. I am assuming the same thing is occurring down in the southern province of Sofland. Once the information is gathered and analyzed by the higher ups, then a coordinated attack can be implemented. If our forces can circle around the valrik, we can end the war before spring. Of course, this is all speculation, we are on a need-to-know basis and it would appear we just don’t need to know.”

  “It sounds easy when you put it like that,” Kile replied, unfortunately, she saw the valrik forces and their war camps. Even if the King’s army could break through the northern and southern sections at the same time, they would still be hard-pressed to carry the battle to the valrik. It would mean fighting in the wastelands. She didn’t think these soldiers were capable of winning in such a hostile terrain.

  “Well, it’s all speculation,” Tullner replied with a shrug. “Just rumors really. They don’t let us know anything until it’s all over.”