The Bare Hunt: A LitRPG/GameLit Novel (The Good Guys Book 7)

by Eric Ugland

  “Except her?” I asked, pointing to the redhead. “Or the six on the other side of the fire.”

  “They are not visitors,” the old woman said. “This is a place for learning and sanctuary.”

  “Can I get your name, maybe?”

  “Cicily Bixby,” she said with a slight bow of her head. “And my associate is Careena Ballard. We are—”

  “Hags?”

  “Witches. Who told you we were hags?”

  “The spiders.”

  “You spoke with them?” the redhead, Careena, asked.

  “I spoke to one of their puppets,” I replied. “And they said you were hags. And the ursus guide I’ve got, he said y’all were hags as well. Night hags.”

  The two women looked at each other, and Careena frowned.

  “We are not hags,” Careena finally said.

  “It’s quite insulting,” Cicily Bixby added. “Hags are vile things. They steal souls and eat infants.”

  “Wow. My apologies. What is going on here then? Just hanging out with your coven?”

  “We are not,” Bixby said. “As I said, it is a place for learning. Safe from the prying eyes of the Empire, who seek to keep magic as something only their chosen few are permitted to practice.”

  “It’s a magic school?” I asked.

  “I suppose that is one means of describing it, yes. I offer my home as a place for those who have skills to learn how to control them.”

  “And hide them,” Careena added.

  “I’m not exactly a fan of the way the Empire handles magic,” I said. “And yet, how about we address the elephant in the room, or the hags on the lake, why does everyone think you are hags?”

  “Because we are women who use magic.”

  “That’s a cop-out. I might be mistaken, wouldn’t be the first time, but I’m pretty sure hags are completely different creatures than, you know, humans. Right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And they don’t really look like women, do they?”

  “They do. A bit.”

  “How much?”

  “It depends really when you see them, in the light of the day, it would be easy to discern we are not hags. Our skin is not green, and we generally don’t eat children.”

  “Generally?”

  “What do you consider eggs?”

  “Pre-chicken.”

  “Sometimes we eat veal.”

  “And hags are evil.”

  “Yes. Very much so.”

  “And you are?”

  “Well I don’t think we’re evil.”

  “Would anyone?”

  “We do kill a rather unpleasant number of spiders on a daily basis, they might have a rather negative view of us.”

  “I could see that being a reason to call you hags, but what about kobolds?”

  “What about them?”

  “Have you had any interactions with them?”

  “In my life? Certainly, but none I would consider worth remembering here and now.”

  “Kill any?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “Have you killed anything?”

  “Certainly. But no kobolds.”

  “Ursus?”

  “None of them either.”

  “They also think you’re hags.”

  “Have they met us?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “An island of women casting spells and fighting off giant spiders, I could see how we might be construed negatively.”

  “But you think you’re good people?”

  “Such a question is beyond me as my morality is my own. I do not prescribe to the tenets of the empire, nor of many of the neighboring kingdoms. Hence why I’m living on an island in a valley with spiders and brownies as my only neighbors.”

  “Being that the Empire considers this my land now, if you’re here, you’re under my purview. Which means I’m the one enforcing rules on my people.”

  “This valley is yours?” Bixby asked.

  “It is. My dukedom goes from well east of here all the way to basically Osterstadt.”

  “That is huge.”

  “That’s what she said?”

  “It is what I said.”

  “Yeah,” I replied, realizing that I was basically making that lame joke with someone old enough to be my grandmother, “let’s pretend I didn’t say that?”

  “You are strange.”

  “Part of my charm.”

  “You have some of that?” Careena snapped.

  “In theory only. So, ladies, if you are willing to join my holding, swear allegiance to me and mine, I guess, then I’m happy to let you guys keep doing what you’re doing here.”

  “And if we do not wish to do that?” Bixby asked.

  “To be honest, I don’t really know what I’ll do.”

  “An honest lord, if rather dim, is a refreshing change,” Careena said to Bixby.

  Bixby shushed her compatriot. “You will permit my school, as you call it, to continue working uninterrupted?”

  “As much as I can,” I said. “You’re also more than welcome back at the village.”

  “Is that the limit of your holding? The village?”

  “You mean like, claimed land?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, it, uh, is the entire dukedom.”

  “You are either very confident or very stupid.”

  “Let’s say it’s probably a bit of column A and a bit of column B. But I’m working on my shortcomings. I did claim my entire holding, and I’m seeing some of the error of my ways now.”

  “You need to convert more of the population into your followers.”

  “Yes.”

  “So you need us.”

  “Well, it would be nice to have you, but eight people isn’t going to affect things much. Besides, I suppose I could just kill you instead. That might be easier. Especially considering the spider quest and all. I’d prefer to have y’all with me, but I can’t afford to make too many concessions, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “There are more than eight of us.”

  “And I should be checking who y’all really are and if you’re just hags in disguise ready to kill me and mine, but I’m doing my best to trust my instinct and think the best of people. So, join?”

  There was another pause as the two women looked at each other. Something definitely passed between them while I stood there still drying off by the fire. The group of six, on the other side, were huddled together in a small group. Judging by the sizes of them, they were probably kids. Or, you know, gnomes or something.

  Finally, Bixby walked closer to me, and stared at me in the firelight.

  “I would need to examine your character sheet before we discuss anything further,” she said. “May I have permission?”

  “Go for it,” I said.

  She put a small wrinkled hand on my forearm, and I realized just how much bigger I was than the little lady. She didn’t even come up to my chest. I felt a warmth pulse from her hand and then radiate through my body. She pulled her hand back, and stood there, thinking. Then she nodded.

  “We will join your holding,” she said.

  “Welcome to Coggeshall,” I replied with a broad smile.

  Chapter Thirty

  “I doubt it would be wise for us to leave the valley,” she finally said. “There are those who only know to find us here, and if we were somewhere else...”

  “It’s not that far to the city,” I said. “Just two or three days, depending on the route you wanted to take.”

  “I fear my frail body cannot take the cold of the mountains, regardless.”

  “Are you the reason it’s so damn warm here?’

  She smiled, and nodded. “I dislike the cold. It pains me something great.”

  I shrugged. “An outpost of the holding. Sounds like a plan to me. And since it’s just a few days away, we can get to you if you need help.”

  “We have things mostly in hand here,” she said. “Girls, do come and mee
t this duke.”

  I was right about them being kids, not gnomes. It was a group of six girls, somewhere in the 12-15 range, all wearing white robes. They were of all different looks, at least as diverse as you can get among six people. But their eyes were still wide, and they definitely still seemed afraid. I gave what I thought was a nice smile, but it really just seemed to frighten the kids more.

  “You also have a spider problem,” Bixby said, “correct?”

  “I mean, unless you’re willing to leave the valley, yeah. I have to figure out something to do about them.”

  “They would like to remove us from the lake,” Bixby said. “They are vicious things.”

  “The people they’ve trapped, are they—”

  “I only know a little of the truth of the spiders. But it is telling they have allowed you to leave. They are either desperate to have me gone, or feel they have you in hand already.”

  “They have the rest of my group under watch, making sure I obey them.”

  “And you trust them?”

  “No, I mean, I guess a little. But they’re spiders — how much trust can I give them? And where did they come from? Are there more spiders like them around?”

  “It has been quite some time since I have traveled, young man, but I believe these spiders to be somewhat unique. There are sentient spiders elsewhere, and larger spiders as well, but I have never heard of anything quite like this, where they have organized in this manner. They have latched on to the belief that eating only of sentient beings improves their own intelligence. So the elites only eat of humans, elves, and the like.”

  “Does it work? I mean, are they getting smarter?”

  “Rather difficult to judge that,” she said. “Annalise, bring me a chair.”

  One of the young girls darted off into the darkness.

  “Is it, uh,” I started, “is it safe on the island?”

  Bixby nodded. I noticed she made a quick gesture to Careena, and the other woman slipped into the night, as if going on patrol.

  “We are the night shift,” she said, “and there is a day shift of witches and students as well. Twenty of us total here at present, though that number fluctuates as needed. Careena, for example, has just returned here from the capital after a rather regrettable interaction with the Imperial mancers. Accused her of knowing and casting magic without the required oaths, as well as possession of illegal spells.”

  “Was she doing all that?” I asked.

  “Of course. But that was more due to a student she had. He had somehow gained some troubling magics, and, as befits the Empire’s brusque and foolish politicking, Careena was blamed for it. But I tell you this not because I try to scare you, but to warn you. She is the type of person who will seek sanctuary here.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “The Empire and I are, uh, not exactly seeing eye-to-eye on things at the present time.”

  “Because there is no Emperor?”

  “That is certainly one of the reasons.”

  “Trouble with your prince? Or Archduke?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head, “as I understand it, there’s really nothing between me and the Emperor. So right now, I’ve got no boss.”

  “Now that must be nice.”

  “Do you have a boss?”

  “Do you think I would choose to take the night shift?”

  “I don’t know, I figured your skin is so nice, you decided to stick to moonlight to keep it that way.”

  “Oh you,” she said, giving me a light slap.

  Annalise came rushing back with a small wooden chair, and set it down on the sand. Bixby settled herself on it, and then gestured at the ground next to her.

  “Perhaps you would care to sit so an old woman does not break her neck trying to look you in the eye?” she asked.

  I chuckled, but complied.

  “Girls,” she said, “is there more left to burn?”

  “Yes, headmistress,” one of the girls said.

  “Then put it in the fire already. There is little cause to stand around gawking at this poor man when there is work to be done.”

  The girls, as a group, darted off. In no time at all, things started getting tossed into the fire.

  “What are they burning?” I asked.

  “Spider parts,” she replied.

  I blinked a few times, then, really looked at what was in the fire. Sure enough, spider legs of various lengths and sizes. And abdomens. And heads. All sorts of spiders bits.

  “I feel like there’s more to this valley than I know,” I said.

  “The world is quite old and full of mystery,” Bixby replied. “It is likely there is more to know about any spot you paused on for long enough.”

  “Well, I’m sure that’s true, but whatever is happening here is pretty pertinent to me.”

  “What is it you would like? I want to know what bothers you, my duke.”

  “Sounds weird when you say that.”

  “It sounds weird to me when I say that as well, and yet, that is what you are, is it not?”

  “I guess. Let’s table that discussion for the moment. The spiders are, what, pushing on you?”

  “They wish to have the valley as their own, so they would like us to go, yes.”

  “And obviously, you guys fight them.”

  “We are forced to engage in skirmishes. Daily. And some nightly ones as well. It is a relatively continuous process, the culling of the spider tribes.”

  “Is there a reason you don’t just kill them all?”

  “You clearly believe I possess much more power than I do. We are able to keep the smaller beasts at bay, but it is impossible for us to do more than keep them from our island.”

  “They seemed to think you’re the reason they aren’t in charge of the whole valley.”

  “The spiders are not as smart as they think they are. They seem to believe they are the supreme form of life in our world. But they have little access to anything outside this valley. I make sure of that.”

  “And the brownies?”

  “Have you encountered them?”

  “No. No fairies. Yet, I mean. I haven’t met any fairies.”

  “There is a grudging peace between us, we signed an accord in days past, and like most fairies, they will not break an accord. But I would not consider them much in the way of friends or allies. They hate the spiders as much as we do, and likely are more the reason the spiders have yet to overrun us. But they are also merely looking for an excuse to bring about another gateway to their home plane. Which would also mean the loss of this valley. And, perhaps, more of your holding.”

  “Okay, bad fairies—”

  “I did not say they are bad. They are merely fairies, doing what it is they think is best for their life and kind.”

  “Fine. So, fairies and spiders and a school for witches. Anything else?”

  “There’s also a lindworm.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “At least one. I have yet to see a second, but it would be foolish to discount the possibility.”

  “What’s a lindworm?”

  “For a duke, you seem to have a surprising lack of knowledge.”

  “I get that a lot.”

  One of the girls walked up to Bixby and knelt down. “We have finished the burn pile.”

  “Then we shall escort the good duke inside and make sure my compatriots agree with my decision to join a holding.”

  She stood up with a bit of a grunt, and then grabbed my arm and started heading uphill towards the higher portion of the island.

  It wasn’t a long walk — it wasn’t a big island. But it was a deceptive one. There were a few squat buildings gathered around a large round building. Everything in the area was really quite storybook. Someone had taken the time to get cobblestones and cover the ground. There were even a few benches, though they were empty since it was the middle of the night, as well as barrels that had been sawn in half and filled with heavy blooms of flowers. It was really nice. The
buildings were made out of red brick, with wooden shingles on the roofs and heavy wood doors and shutters. Cute, but with an undercurrent of defense, despite the lack of walls.

  As soon as we got to the cobblestones, the girls ran ahead, giggling a little, and darting into one of the buildings off to the left.

  “Get to sleep girls,” Bixby called out, just a hint of volume to her whisper.

  “Young,” I said.

  “Magic is a difficult art to achieve later in life,” Bixby said, steering me towards the right.

  “I’ve heard that. And that muscle interferes with magic.”

  She smacked my bicep. “Very true.”

  “No chance for me, eh?”

  “Do you hold mana?”

  “I do.”

  “And have you cast spells?”

  “I used to, kind of often, but it’s been getting harder and harder.”

  “Where did you learn?”

  “Here and there.”

  “No formal training?”

  “No.”

  “And so no one taught you to burn mana pathways in your body? Or how to cycle your mana?”

  “No and no. And the last time I tried to cast a spell, I kind of exploded.”

  “A mana burst?”

  “Something of the kind, yeah.”

  “I’ve heard of that happening. I am surprised you are still upright.”

  “Did you take a look at my boons when you were peeking around in my character sheet?”

  “No. I spent my time on your indicium. Checking your bonafides, if you will. One of your boons explains how you are able to explode and survived?”

  “More or less, yes.”

  “Good for you.”

  We had come to a door, so I reached out to open it for Bixby. But her little hand reached out, lightening fast. She snatched my arm and pulled it back. Then she held up a finger to me, the universal sign to wait, and then she did a little wiggle waggle. A single red rune shot out of her hand and slammed into the door.

  The huge door rippled in and out of reality before disappearing.

  “After you,” Bixby said, “my large friend.”

  I looked through the spot where the door had been. It looked like we were about to enter an empty hovel with broken furniture remains and rags covering the windows. But, well, I’d gone this far. I had to duck to get through the doorway, and as I passed over the threshold, it was as if I’d stepped into a completely different world. I was in a homey little cottage with a fire burning in the fireplace, and overstuffed chairs along the walls. I was delighted.