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

by Garry Spoor

  “Well, not as Colonel Barshed, but as a simple soldier from Blackmoore.” Luke said, getting to his feet. “You have to admit, your friend has a flair for the dramatics. He’ll make quite a bard someday.”

  “So… he’s okay?”

  “His Hunter days are behind him, but he’s a resilient young man. He’ll bounce back. I’m certain even you agree, he was never going to make it as a Hunter.”

  “They said the same thing about me.”

  “And you quit, once.” Luke reminded her.

  “I was a fool to return.”

  “Maybe, but I’m glad you did. If you hadn’t reached Moran when you did, things would have been different.”

  “Captain Jax might still be alive.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” Luke said, leaning against his desk. “Maybe you should tell me everything, from the day you joined Perha Squad.”

  Kile laughed. “I didn’t join Perha Squad, I was assigned to Perha Squad, you assigned me to Perha Squad.”

  “Yes, I did. You were the only one available.”

  “No, I wasn’t. Marcus was available and more qualified. If he had been out there instead of me, Perha Squad wouldn’t be in the state it’s in now.”

  “You can’t be sure about that.”

  “Oh yes I can.”

  If Marcus had gone, instead of her, he could have convinced Wargner to take the alternate route, if he had thought of it. He could have stopped the Sergeant from making the boneheaded decision of attacking a town full of valrik. Then again, Marcus was always caught up in the need for fame. He would have been right beside Wargner when he entered Coopervill.

  Kile relayed the story of everything that happened from the time she left base camp Riley up to the present, when she first set foot into Forthbar. She told him about her experiences with the reptilian wolves, even if she didn’t understand them fully herself. In some way, it was cleansing, to get everything off her chest with someone who might understand; who wasn’t going to judge her or label her mad. Luke quietly listened. When she was finished, she collapsed on the overstuffed sofa. She was exhausted. Luke began to pace the floor. She could tell he was trying to figure things out, putting things in their proper places. He looked troubled.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Wargner,” he replied.

  “What about him?” She refrained from giving her personal thoughts on the man. It just didn’t seem right, to speak ill of the dead.

  “Did he ever tell you why he wanted to retake Coopervill, or even hint at something which might be a reason?”

  Kile laughed. “He hardly told me anything. To him, I was just extra baggage. Maybe he said something to Sandson or Tullner, but he didn’t tell me anything prior to going into Coopervill, and afterward, well, he couldn’t tell anybody anything.”

  “Kile.”

  “What? Hey, look, I’m sorry the man’s dead, but I’m not going to sit here and praise his name. He was a fool. A lot of good soldiers died because of him. If I didn’t know better, which I don’t, I would have said he was on a suicide mission.”

  “That’s just it,” Luke said, taking a seat opposite her. “He was never supposed to enter Coopervill. Perha Squad’s mission was to observe, not to engage.”

  “Did he know that?” Kile asked. “The way he spoke, he was under the impression that the valrik forces were minimal. He probably thought he could win the war single handedly.”

  “I don’t know,” Luke said, running his hands through is hair. “It’s just out of character. Sergeant Wargner was a good man, a good soldier. He was a bit hardnosed at times, but that’s what made him a good commander. That’s why we trusted him with the mission.”

  “Who’s we?” she asked. “And how is it you’re a part of this. I mean, how can you be an officer in the King’s Command and head of the Hunter’s Guild, not to mention a stablehand at the Academy and who knows how many other occupations?”

  “Believe me, it’s not easy,” he laughed. “When you’ve been around as long as I have, you tend to overstay certain faces. During one of my lives, I took some time away from the Guild and joined the Azintar corps as Benjamin Barshed. I was looking for something new, something exciting. I thought I could incorporate some of the basic training into the Academy. I worked my way up the ranks and retired as Colonel Barshed. When the war started, they sought me out and called me out of retirement. I know I should have ended Barshed’s life a long time ago, but I have so few faces which I can look back on fondly.”

  “So, you came back?”

  “Under the circumstances, it seemed like the right idea. The military wasn’t very fond of the Hunters, not after what happened last year. I thought, as Colonel Barshed of the King’s Command, I could undo the seeds of mistrust Andrew Drain planted. It hasn’t been easy. There are forces working against me, and I have yet to identify them.”

  Luke got up and walked across the room to a small table tucked in the corner. He popped the top of a decanter and poured himself a glass of something.

  “Do you need a drink before Colonel Barshed makes a reappearance?” He asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Kile replied. “My mind’s already messed up as it is.”

  He swirled the drink in his glass before taking a sip, then placed it on his desk.

  “I supposed we should get the others back in here, unless there is anything else.”

  “There is one thing,” Kile said, sitting up. “A favor.”

  “Anything, if it’s in my power to do so.”

  “It might not be in your power, but it is in Colonel Barshed’s power,” she replied. “I promoted Private Tullner to Sergeant of Perha Squad, and Sandson to Corporal, Tullner said it was only temporary, unless Colonel Barshed authorizes it. I was wondering if…”

  “Consider it done,” Luke laughed. “Anything else?”

  “Well, there is one more thing.”

  “Out with it.”

  “The Alva.”

  “You’ve heard.”

  “By now, I think everyone knows, or maybe they don’t. Is it true? Have they returned?”

  “I don’t know about returned, but the two men seen with King Roland, were indeed of the Alva race.”

  “So, why are they here? What did they say?”

  Luke shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “You haven’t spoken to them?” she asked.

  “You have to understand, Kile. The Alva and the vir saw things differently. They didn’t agree on much. By choosing to stay among the vir, I chose my path a long time ago. To them, I’m an outcast.”

  “You don’t know that?”

  “No, that’s true. But it wouldn’t do for me to come forth now, not with everything in motion. I want to stay my hand until I see what’s played.”

  “You don’t trust them, do you?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I know my kin. I know what they are capable of doing. I know how they feel toward the vir, but I don’t know what they are doing here.” Luke said, moving across the room to the door. As he did, the face of the stablehand melted into the form of the kindly old Colonel. It was so effortless, Kile wasn’t even sure she saw it. All she knew was, Luke reached for the door handle, but Colonel Barshed opened the door.

  “You may come in now, I learned what I needed.” Colonel Barshed said, stepping aside.

  Folkstaff and Erin entered, followed by a young man, who looked a bit nervous. Kile didn’t recognize him, but he seemed to know who she was. He glanced in her direction and quickly diverted his eyes. She could only assume he visited a few of the local pubs. She was earning a reputation without even trying.

  “Are you all right?” Erin asked her.

  “I should say so.” Barshed replied. “I didn’t have to use torture, if that’s what you mean.” he laughed.

  “Sir,” The young man stepped forward. “I bring a message from Lord Bollen. His Lordship wishes for you to attend a gathering at the keep tonight, in honor of hi
s Royal Highness, High King Roland Waltair III.”

  “Tonight? I see,” Barshed said, sipping the last of his drink. “It would appear my day has just gotten longer. No rest for the wicked. Master Folkstaff, Lady Silvia, would you care to join me. Kile, I believe you have an appointment with a bard at the hospital.”

  Kile jumped to her feet. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Uh, sir,” The messenger stammered. “They want Hunter Veller there as well.”

  “Me? Why me?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid they didn’t say, ma’am. Only that you were to accompany Colonel Barshed.”

  Barshed looked concerned. “I see,” he said, stroking his chin. Kile should have told him that Guild Master Latherby always did that when he was thinking. It was another one of his tells. “Very well, please let his highness know we will be there. And tell the sergeant at the door to have my carriage waiting.”

  “As you wish, sir,” The messenger replied, and quickly exited the room.

  “Is this wise?” Erin asked.

  “It will be fine.” Folkstaff assured her as he poured himself a drink.

  Kile knew what they meant, what they were worried about, even if they wouldn’t give it voice. If she went feral, in the presence of the King, it would tarnish the reputation of the Hunter’s Guild, worse than it already was.

  “Come, it’s won’t do any good to keep his highness waiting.” Barshed said as he directed them to the door.

  They followed the Colonel down the hall and into the courtyard, where a two-horse carriage was waiting. A footman opened the carriage door and helped Barshed in. Kile followed, then Erin and finally, Folkstaff. The interior was roomier than the last carriage Kile had rode in. And the seats were also padded, which made it a lot more comfortable.

  “The perks of being old,” Barshed told her.

  The footman climbed up beside the driver and the carriage started to roll. Looking out the window, Kile watched the city glide past. It was definitely a nicer way to travel than by foot or by horseback, although she would never trade Grim for a carriage, at least, most of the time.

  They bumped their way through the city streets, heading deeper into the heart of Forthbar. It was getting darker, and Kile was getting hungry. Hard-tack and water were not enough. They were, of course, heading to the keep, surely there would be food and drink available for this gathering.

  They crossed a small bridge, over a narrow ravine and passed through the gatehouse to enter the inner ward, where, on the opposite side, sat the keep. It was, without a doubt, the largest building in the city, standing five or six stories high and flanked with towers. There was a lot of activity around the entrance as more people were arriving. Kile recognized Lord Bollen’s banner, which now hung outside the door. The carriage pulled up alongside a few mounted soldiers, and the footman quickly jumped down. He opened the door and helped the Colonel out. Upon seeing his arrival, the soldiers quickly came to attention.

  Barshed knew his way around the place fairly well and led them up the stairs to the main entrance. He seemed to forget himself, or, more precisely, what self he was, as he took the steps two at a time. Kile wondered how he fooled anybody for very long, but nobody seemed to take any notice of the old Colonel’s sudden burst of youthful energy.

  The doors of the Keep were wide open and two pikemen greeted the Colonel when he entered. Kile was in awe. The place was grand in every way. The foyer was enormous, with huge pillars of marble supporting the ceiling, some twenty feet above her. Suspended between them were massive iron chandeliers, each one holding, what looked to be, a hundred candles. The whole room was washed in light, giving it a golden glow. The floor was polished to such a degree, she could see her reflection, and realized that was a mistake. She tried to flatten down her hair with no luck.

  They followed the Colonel up a second flight of stairs where they merged with a small group of people moving in the same direction. More guest to the gathering. Barshed started the introductions, but Kile didn’t really care who they were. It wasn’t as if she was ever going to run into these people again. Whenever her name was mentioned, she smiled and nodded in that direction. Her main focus was on the hall itself. It was no less grand than the foyers. There were display cabinets along both walls, and they were filled with curiosities. She desperately wanted to take a closer look, to see what a Lord keeps on display, but thought better of it. The guards were already watching her carefully. It could have been the yarrow on her shoulder, they were interested in, or it could have been her. She didn’t want to give them any more reason to be nervous, and decided to stay with the group.

  The end of the hall emptied into a large room filled with even more people Kile didn’t know, nor did she want to. The whole thing seemed pointless. There was a war going on, wounded in the hospital, refugees in the streets, and young men on the front line. So what does the Lord do? He throws a party.

  Kile moved off to one side of the room, where she felt safer, and surveyed the landscape. Folkstaff and Erin were caught up in a conversation with a tall man dressed in blue robes, while Barshed was speaking with a young, highly animated soldier whose hands were flying all over the place. The Colonel had to duck on two occasions, to avoid getting slapped upside the head. She did recognize a few other faces. Lord Bollen was present, of course, as was Lord Kels and Lord Farns, although they were seldom from his side. She also spotted Tullner on the other side of the room, with Sandson. They were speaking with someone Kile had never seen before. Seeing as nobody was taking any notice of her, she sneaked over to the food table.

  It was quite an impressive spread. There was an assortment of breads, cold meats, fruit, cheeses, tarts, pies, cakes and jars of jelly. There were even a variety of things to drink from plain water to something stronger, which smelled awful. Vesper was already on the table before Kile could stop him. He dove right into one of the fruit bowls. She quickly pulled him out, grapes and all, and stuffed him in her satchel before anyone saw.

  “You’ll be safer in there,” She told him while she looked over the table.

  Picking up another bunch of grapes, and a few apples, she added those to the satchel as well, before making her way over to the dessert table, where she found a whole apple pie. What were her chances of sneaking that out to Grim, she wondered? It wasn’t like she could hide it in her satchel with Vesper. She’d just end up with one sticky yarrow. She decided to err on the side of caution, and left the apple pie to itself. Grim would have to go without, for the moment, unless she could think of a way of taking it, without being seen. She moved on to the small cakes and pastries. There were quite a few to choose from and she picked two which looked safe.

  “Well, we meet again.”

  Kile spun around, her mouth full of cake. She stared up at the King.

  “Your highness,” she squeaked after swallowing.

  “Please, it’s still Roland.” He said, extending his hand.

  She looked up into his eyes. She had forgotten how handsome he was, and then she remembered she was still holding the cake. She looked down at the pastry, squished between their hands.

  “I am so sorry,” she said, letting go. It would have to be one filled with jelly. She quickly grabbed a towel from the table and started to clean his hand.

  Roland laughed. “I have to admit, I haven’t tried this one yet,” he said, taking the towel from her.

  “I am so sorry,” She apologized again. Looking around for a place to put the squashed cake, she eventually stuffed it in her satchel, much to Vesper’s delight.

  Roland handed her back the towel so she could wipe the rest of the crumbs from her fingers.

  “I was afraid I would never see you again,” he smiled. “Actually, after your first visit, I wasn’t even sure you existed.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Roland laughed. “A beautiful young woman suddenly appears at my estate one night, unnoticed by my guards, casts a spell on my dogs, and then vanishes without a trace. Isn�
�t that what fairy tales are about?”

  “It wasn’t like that, sir.”

  “Please, don’t tell me.” He said, interrupting her. “I want to savory the mystery.”

  Kile felt her face flush when the King took her hand. She quickly looked around the room to see who, if anyone, was watching.

  “Am I keeping you from someone?” he asked.

  “No, sir,” she quickly replied. “To tell you the truth, I’m not even sure why I’m here.”

  The King smiled. “Isn’t it obvious? I invited you,” he said. “When I heard a mysterious red- headed woman was responsible for routing the enemy forces at the outpost of Moran, I knew it had to be you.”

  “It was nothing, sir.”

  “Nothing?” he laughed. “You may not realize it, but you save Callor from falling into the hand of the Uhyre. Should Callor have fallen, the province of Azintar would have been next, which would have led to the collapse of the kingdom. My people and I are in your debt.”

  “I didn’t do it alone,” she replied defensively. “A lot of the credit should go to the dogs and soldiers of Moran, and, of course… Captain Jax.”

  “Yes, I heard about the Captain.” Roland replied. “It’s a shame. He was an honorable man.”

  “Did you know him?”

  “I met him once, although, it was some time ago. You were fond of him?” he asked.

  “He was a good man,” she replied. “Kind of what I thought a father should be.”

  “Didn’t you know your father?”

  Kile laughed. “I knew him all too well.”

  “I see.”

  “No, you don’t, and I don’t wish to talk about it.” she said, stepping away from the table. The King followed.

  “I wasn’t lying when I said I was in your debt,” he added.

  “For what?” she asked. “I only did what anyone else would have done.”

  “I think you did a lot more than that, if the stories can be believed.”

  “What stories?” she asked, although she was afraid she already knew the answer.

  “The ones being told down at the pub, by the storyteller,” the King replied.