by Garry Spoor
“What’s going on here?” Daniel asked. “Look, we need to see the Colonel. It is urgent…” he tried to explain.
Kile held her hand up to silence him. “Is it Carter?” she asked the young soldier.
The guard checked around a few times before he would answer. He scratched his chin and then slowly nodded. “I’m afraid it is,” He replied. “Hunter Hansen went in about six months ago. He was regularly giving us inside information until last week. We haven’t heard from him since. His last report said he was onto something big, but he didn’t know what it was. We think he might have gotten in over his head.”
“So, what is the Guild doing about it?” she asked.
“At the moment, I’m afraid nothing. Nothing can be done. What with the troubles down along the southern coast and the beginnings of a large scale operation to clear out Denal, we’re stretched a little thin. Officially, no operation into the wastelands has been scheduled. We don’t have anyone we can send at this moment.”
“Then I’ll go.” Kile replied.
“Yeah, I was kind of afraid you’d say that.” The guard laughed. “But are you really up to it?”
“Of course I am.”
“Seriously? You were the one who said you were losing your mind.”
“Not while I’m out there.”
“It really doesn’t matter. An operation, like this, can’t be done on a whim. It has to be sanctioned, by the Guild and by command. They’ll never let someone like you go out there alone, it’s too dangerous.”
Daniel grabbed Alex by the arm and pulled him forward. “Then we’ll go with her.” He said.
“We will?” Alex asked. He seemed a bit confused by his volunteering.
“You said you wanted to.”
“That was before, when I didn’t think you were going to take me seriously.”
“It’s still not enough.” The guard replied. “A third, and two fifth level Hunters won’t be enough to convince Command. If you’re really set on this, you’re going to have to get a Certified Level One Hunter to lead the operation, and, you’ll need some military support.”
“So, we find ourselves a Level One.” Kile replied.
“I’m afraid it’s not that easy.” The guard said. “There aren’t too many qualified to lead a mission like this. Master Folkstaff is busy with recon efforts in Denal and Lady Silvia already set off to the southern coast. I’m afraid the only other qualified Hunter, still in Forthbar, is Master Boraro.”
“You can’t be serious? You know what he tried to do to me.”
“I know, but he’s your only option. You bring me a qualified team, and I’ll take it to command, otherwise, my hands are tied.”
Biting her bottom lip, she turned and looked west. She knew Master Boraro would never agree to help her, and if he did, the price would be too high. Her only other option would be to go it alone. Getting into the wastelands wouldn’t be a problem, but finding Carter might. She wouldn’t be able to rely on certain aspect of her Edge, not that close to the enemy. If she lost her grip on reality, who would be there to pull her back in? Grim, of course, would go with her, but would even he be enough?
“Thank you, Sir,”
“I’m sorry, Kile, I wish I could be more help.” The guard replied. He made another quick scan of the cloisters before following the walk back to the baily.
“Who was that?” Daniel asked.
“It doesn’t’ matter, but he’s right. Without a proper team, we’ll never get into the wastelands, let alone find Carter.”
“So, we’re sunk before we started, unless, we go to Master Boraro.”
“Where can we find him?” she asked reluctantly. Her last encounter with her old weapons master was not a very fond one, in fact, he tried to kill her.
“He hangs out at the Skinny Rat from time to time.” Alex replied. “I’ve done a few shows there, not too many, the patrons are lousy tippers. He’s usually there, hitting on the waitresses.”
They arrived at the stables where Kile found Grim in the farthest, darkest corner, alone. He must have chosen the stall himself, because she couldn’t see any stable hand willing to tangle with a mountain pony. The ponies had bad reputations among the Callor population, who were all too familiar with their less than pleasant nature.
“Are you ready?” She asked when she approached.
-Are we finally leaving this dump?-
“Well, not exactly, not yet anyway. We’re going into the Forthbar to find Master Boraro.”
-And why on earth would you want to find that vir?-
Grim asked, as he followed Kile out into the yard.
“Unfortunately, we need him to lead a mission into the wastelands,” she explained.
Grim snorted.
-Your funeral.-
When they got outside, Alex was sitting upon Illusion, waiting to go. Daniel was leading Miliea out into the yard from the opposite side of the stables. Kile approached Illusion, stroking the horse’s nose.
“He has been treating you alright?” she asked the horse.
-It’s been entertaining.-
He replied.
Illusion was rare among horses, in that he no longer wanted to use his real name and instead accepted his vir name, the one Alex gave him. He was also something of a practical joker, if that could be said of a horse. There were times he would just go his own way or act out for no reason what so ever. Alex was still a little unsure around horses, but the two seemed to have bonded rather well.
“What did he tell you?” Alex demanded when Kile stepped back.
“You’re alright,” she assured him. “He says you’ve been treating him well.”
“He’d better, most of my pay goes to keeping him fed. He eats better than I do,” the small Hunter grumbled.
-It is good to see you again, Kile.-
Miliea said in her soft voice when she rode up.
Kile stroked the dapple gray’s nose. She had a certain fondness for Daniel’s horse, probably because it could have been hers. When Grim refused to be ridden, Daniel offered Miliea to her. All she had to do was say yes, but she was too stubborn at the time. Her relationship with Grim might have started off on a bad note, but she couldn’t imagine these past years without him by her side. He was more than just her mount, in spite of his ornery attitude, and sadistic, mean streak, he was her best friend, besides Vesper.
She climbed onto his back and the yarrow took his place between the pony’s ears.
“So, where exactly is this… what was it… the Skinny Lizard?”
“The Skinny Rat,” Alex said, turning Illusion toward the gatehouse. “It’s just north of the plaza district. There are a few bars located there. The locals call it, pub row.”
“How many pubs are there?” she asked.
“In the entire city, there are about two dozen, not counting the ones in the industrial section. I don’t go there. The crowds get a little too rowdy and my stories aren’t the stories they want to hear, if you know what I mean. The Hunters, and most of the soldiers, stay in pub row, moving from one bar to the next, so that’s where I go. At least they appreciate a good story. There are five bars along the stretch. There’s the Skinny Rat and the Flatten Sparrow as well the Wet Frog, the Bloody Sheep, and the Cog’s Head.”
“And you go to all of these?” Kile asked.
“No, not all of them, not all the time,” he replied. “The Skinny Rat is kind of a dive, nobody there wants to hear a storyteller, and the Cog’s Head is a little too refined, or at least that’s what they want you to think. There’s a lot that goes on behind those doors that I don’t want any part of. The Bloody Sheep is all right, but it can get wild sometimes, and there’s quite a bit of gambling going on, so nobody there wants to hear stories either. The Wet Frog is pretty good, but I’m usually at the Flatten Sparrow.”
“Should I be worried about you?” she asked.
Alex just laughed.
They passed through the gatehouse, unhindered. Kile wasn’t sure what
to expect. She did slip out of her room without telling anyone where she was going. She was afraid there would be a line of guards stationed at the exit to stop her. When no one even raised an eyebrow over her departure, she was a bit disappointed.
Crossing over the small bridge, she was back in Forthbar, and Alex was leading them east, down one of the more narrow roads. At least now she was able to look at the people and the building without having flashbacks of her time in the crags.
The city was considerably old. The buildings were all of stone with ivy climbing as high as the third floor. The vines were bare now, and the leaves of the few trees which dotted the streets, were nearly gone. Winter was coming in with a vengeance, and it was going to be a long dark one. When men go to war, there are few left behind to tend the fields and bring in the harvest. Some were calling the battle of Moran a turning point in the war, but even if that was so, they still had a very long way to go before they would see the end.
Alex led them onto a wider cross road where lights were lit and music played. There was singing, laughing, and people stumbling in the streets. This was where the soldiers came to forget about the war, as well as their families. It was a reprieve from the nightmare, or sometimes a nightmare unto itself.
“There’s a place up here where most of the Hunters park their horses.” Alex said, pointing to a small lot off the side of the street. Sure enough, it was filled with horses tied to hitching posts. An old man sat on a chair outside the gate and watched them approach.
“Hey, Aden, it’s me,” Alex shouted. He dismounted and walked up to the old man, who appeared to be looking everywhere but at Alex. “Hey, over here,” he said, waving a hand in front of the man’s face.
“Alex my boy, is that you?” the old man asked.
“Where are your glasses, Aden; you lose them again?”
“Glasses? I don’t need any glasses. Why, my eyes are as sharp as a hawk.”
He probably would have been more believable, if he wasn’t addressing Alex’s horse at the time.
“I have three for you today,” Alex said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few coins. He dropped them into the old man's hand.
“Going to be spinning your tales in the Sparrow?”
“Not today. We’re looking for a Hunter by the name of Boraro.”
“Garret Boraro, huh? Yeah, I seem to recall him coming through. I believe he’s in the Skinny Rat again.”
“Kind of what I thought,” Alex replied, dropping another coin into the man’s hand.
Aden held the coin up to one eye and squinted. When he was sure he wasn’t being cheated, he stuffed them into a small pouch which hung from his belt.
“You know what to do, son.” He said, returning to his seat.
Alex led Illusion into the pen, Daniel and Kile followed.
The lot was much larger than it appeared from the street and extended back behind two of the buildings. Long hitching posts lined the inner perimeter of the pen, along with strategically placed watering troughs. Daniel and Alex chose places closer to the gate, while Kile decided to choose one of the more isolated locations.
As they headed toward the far end of the lot, passing many a horse along the way, Grim suddenly pushed Kile with his nose.
“I’ll pick you a good spot,” she told him.
-Not that, over there.-
He said, nodding his head toward a small group of horses off to one side. At first, Kile thought he actually wanted to be placed with the other horses, but that was so out of character for him she had to take another look. That’s when she spotted the light bay mare hitched to one of the posts.
“Is that Rose?” she asked.
-Sure looks like it.-
Grim replied.
She was kind of surprised the mountain pony recognized the mare, as he often avoids consorting with other horses. When she got closer, she called out to her. “Is that you, Rose?” she asked.
The horse turned and looked at her.
-Kile.-
Rose exclaimed, and seemed genuinely excited to see her.
“It’s been a while. How have you been?” she asked.
-Rose fine. Master has been good to me.-
The mare replied.
“So your master is here?”
-Yes, master comes here often. Stays most of the night.-
Rose’s words were filled with images of the white haired Hunter staggering back to his horse in the early hours of the morning, and not always alone.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me,” Kile laughed. “It’s been good to see you again, Rose. Unfortunately, I can’t really stop to talk. I’m kind of looking for someone,”
She led Grim past the other horses to one of the vacant hitching posts. She didn’t even bother to secure him, if Grim had a mind to, he would tear the post out of the ground. Retrieving Vesper from the pony’s head, she slipped the yarrow into her satchel
“Now, you be good, you hear,” she told the pony.
-You know this solves your problem.-
He replied.
“What problem?”
-Master Boraro.-
“What do you mean?”
-Oh please, are you that dense?-
Kile had to think about it for a moment, but it finally clicked.
“You’re right, that’s perfect, thanks Grim,”
She ran back to the front gate where she found Daniel and Alex waiting.
“What took you so long? This place isn’t that big!” Daniel complained.
“I was talking to a friend, if you have to know,” she replied.
“Of course you were,” he said, shaking his head. “Come on, we still have to find Master Boraro.”
“I don’t think so. Change of plans,”
She approached the old man sitting outside the gate.
“Sir, I was wondering if you can help me.”
“What? What? Who is it?” The old man asked, jumping to his feet. He was pretty quick, in spite of his age.
“It’s just us, Aden.” Alex said, calming the old man down.
“Oh, Alex my boy, your voiced changed.”
“No, it’s just a friend of mine,” he laughed. “This is Kile, Kile Veller.”
“Oh, Veller, I heard that name before. You wouldn’t be the same Veller who fought at the fall of Moran?”
“Um, yeah, that was me,” Kile replied meekly. She didn’t like this fame which was being associated with her.
“What is it that I can help you with, child?”
“I was wondering if you know of a Hunter by the name of Marcus Taylor.”
In spite of Aden being practically blind, the old man saw quite a bit. For another coin he told them exactly where to find Marcus. Kile could have figured it out herself. All she had to do was find the bar with the most women.
The Wet Frog was an odd name for a bar, and had a picture of a frog in a beer stein hanging over the door. It was a brightly lit, noisy place, which was pretty much how Alex described it. There was drinking, dancing, drinking, gambling and more drinking. Daniel, the tallest of the three, led the way through the crowd to one of the vacant tables on the far side of the room. The atmosphere was rather joyous, if not a bit crass. There were paintings on the wall which Kile found quite embarrassing.
No sooner did they take their seats, then one of the waitresses arrived.
“What’ll it be?” she asked, having to shout to be heard above the ruckus.
“Hey, Mabel, they got you working tonight, I see,” Alex replied.
“Master Bartlow, I don’t think you’ll be able to perform tonight,” Mable said, pointing to the stage where a young woman was trying to sing. Her mouth was moving, but the noise level in the room drowned out any sound she was making.
“Not tonight, Mable. We’re looking for someone,” Alex replied. “Maybe you’ve seen him… um, actually, I don’t even know what he looks like.”
“He’s a big man, white hair,” Kile added.
The waitress grinned.
“You’re looking for Marcus.”
Figures, was there a waitress in all the realm who didn’t know Marcus Taylor? She was just another member of his ever growing fan club.
“So, you’ve seen him?” Alex asked.
“Oh, sure, he’s over at the bar right now.” she said, pointing toward the far side of the room.
Only Daniel was able to see over the crowd, and even he had to stand on his toes.
“I think I see him,” he said. “There’s a white haired gentleman sitting at the bar, surrounded by three young ladies.”
“That would be Marcus,” Kile replied, getting to her feet.
“You wait here, I’ll go talk to him,” Daniel said. “You’ll get squashed if you try to go out there alone.”
Before Kile could stop him, Daniel was swallowed by the crowd.
“So, what will it be, Master Bartlow?” Mable asked.
“Three pints of your Frog’s Brew,” He said with a grin.
“You better make that two, I’ll have a tea, if I may,” Kile added.
“Two points of Frog’s Brew and a tea for the lady,” Mable replied. “Will that be all?”
“For now, thanks, Mable.”
The waitress gave Alex a wink before heading toward the bar.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Alex said, turning to Kile. “The Frog’s Brew is one of the best beers on Pubs Row. It’s really the only reason I come in here.”
Kile watched Mable disappear into the crowd. “The only reason?” she asked him.
“Hey, it’s not like that,” Alex replied defensively.
She laughed, and turned her attention to the stage, where the young singer was trying her hardest to be heard above the noise. But it was no use; even with Kile’s ears, she couldn’t hear the song.
Moments later, Daniel stumbled out of the crowd.
“Well, I talked to him, but he’s not qualified.” He said, taking a seat opposite Kile. “We’ll have to ask Master Boraro after all.”
“Why, what did he say?” Alex asked.
“He said… he said something” Daniel replied. He had a confused look on his face, as if he was trying to recall the conversation he had only a few minutes ago. “All I know is he’s not qualified, but he did give me his autograph.” He added, holding up a napkin with Marcus’s signature on it
