by Garry Spoor
“Master Boraro?”
“What the hell is she doing here?”
Certified Level One Hunter, Garret Boraro, he hadn’t changed much since the last time she had the misfortune of running into him. He was still loud and obnoxious. A large man with a square head and a flat-top haircut to match. He glared at her and she realized he wasn’t nearly as scary as he used to be.
“I will not be a part of this expedition if she is involved,” Boraro said loudly as he pointed one fat finger at her. She suddenly sensed everyone staring, and a few of them had unfamiliar faces.
“That’s enough, Garret,” one of the men interjected. “This is not the time for ya petulance.”
“Heaney, you do not understand…”
“I said, that is enough. Every member of this expedition has been chosen for a reason. If ya have a problem, ya know who to take it up with. Until then, I’m in charge here.”
“We’ll see about that,” Boraro mumbled as he stormed off to the opposite side of the room.
Heaney sighed and shook his head. He was a tall, sinewy man with a big shaggy red beard and hair to match. His face might have been old and leathery, but his eyes were young. He smiled as he extended one large hand toward Kile.
“The names Heaney, William Heaney. Certified Level One Hunter, at ya services.”
“Veller, Kile Veller. Certified Level Three, at yours,” she said as she watched her hand disappear into his.
“It’s an honor to meet ya, Miss Veller. I’ve heard quite a bit about ya, mostly from Silvia.”
“Erin? Is she here too? Have you seen her?”
“Not for a while, I’m afraid. They’ve got her down along the southwestern border, but she spoke very highly of ya when she learned ya had been chosen for this expedition.”
“I’m afraid there’s been some mistake, Master Heaney. I don’t think I’m the right person for this… expedition. I’m not even sure what it’s about.”
“Not to worry. Most of the people chosen don’t know what it’s about, including me-self.” He laughed.
“But… didn’t you tell Master Boraro that you were in charge?”
“Aye, that’s true, but ya been a Hunter long enough to know, ya don’t always get the full story when ya get the assignment. So, what’s the doings between you and Garret anyway?”
“Oh, that.” Kile waved her hand dismissively. “That’s nothing. We’ve had a few misunderstandings in the past, that’s all.”
“Seems a bit more than that,” Heaney said. “But, as long as it doesn’t interfere with the mission, it’s no concern of mine.” He looked over the room. “So, do ya know any of the other players besides ya Master Boraro?”
“Well, that one over there.” Kile pointed to Daniel, who was having a rather secretive conversation with Clara. “That’s Daniel Leary. He’s a Level Five and works at the Littenbeck Hospital. As for the tall man in the green robes, that’s Mystic Elmac Okalis of the Tower. He’s been conducting research into the Alva and the Alva artifact, which I think is what this might be all about.”
“I see,” Heaney said, pulling on his beard. “You seem to know quite a bit.”
“Only from what I’ve overheard.”
“Still, any information is good information.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know who that guy is over there.” Kile pointed to the man talking with Boraro. He was a thin man with a narrow face, sunken eyes, and slicked-back hair. He had a black mustache, common with older Hunters, which hung down on either side of his frown. Boraro seemed to know him quite well, which only raised Kile’s suspicions.
“That there is Ernesto Creech, bit of a dark past that one has. He’s a Level Three, like yourself. Don’t know much more than that.”
“Not exactly the group to go artifact hunting with,” Kile remarked.
“Aye, seems a bit odd. Hunters usually work alone or team up with someone they’re familiar with for a one-off. This here, this isn’t how it’s done. To get tossed in with a bunch of strangers, I don’t like it.”
“Master Heaney, is it true Master Latherby is no longer in charge of the Guild?”
“Aye, ’tis true. Should have thought you’d know. No one’s seen him in some time.”
“I’ve been away for a few months,”
“On an assignment?”
“No, just getting my head screwed on.”
“Well, now ya answer to Guild Master Parker.”
“What do you think of him?”
“Don’t rightly know. Me? I try to stay out of politics. I do my job and I get paid, that’s all there is to it. Ya should do the same.”
Heaney left Kile to speak with Mystic Elmac. She wasn’t sure how to take the Hunter. On the one hand, she liked him. He was cheerful, outspoken, didn’t care much for Master Boraro, or at least he wasn’t intimidated by the man, and he seemed to think highly of Erin Silvia. All in all, fairly good qualities for the leader of an expedition, at least the way she saw it. But he seemed reserved, noncommittal. His comments about just doing the job and getting paid reminded her of Marcus Taylor, who basically betrayed her to Ravenshadow and justified it by saying it was just another job. Would it come down to that with Heaney? Was it always just another job?
“Who was that you were talking to?” Daniel asked. Kile looked at her friend and thought he appeared abnormally pleased with himself. She wondered what he and Clara were discussing in the corner of the room but decided it wasn’t any of her business.
“That’s Master Heaney,” she said. “It appears he may be leading this expedition.”
The doors to the front of the room opened and Jerald stepped in, flanked by two more servants.
“Gentlemen, supper has been prepared in the lower hall, if you will follow me.”
6
The lower hall was no less extravagant than any other place in the palace. It even housed its own collection of worthless treasures. One, which was hard to miss since it dominated the center of the wall, was a huge painting of a regal-looking man sitting in a great chair. He was holding an abnormally large sword in one hand and a crystal orb in the other. On either side of the picture was an assortment of smaller portraits, probably more members of the royal family. Over the top was the royal coat of arms, the same one that was on the ring Kile wore.
The dining tables were placed in the middle of the room, creating a large half circle with a round, wooden table filling the center. There was just enough space between the tables for the servants to move freely. The dining tables were set with porcelain plates bearing the royal crest along with silver utensils, silk napkins, and crystal goblets. The center table was where they kept the food—an impressive spread with about everything anyone could possibly want. There was pheasant, fish, pork, beef, and venison, as well as a dozen or so different side dishes. There was also a selection of salads, breads, cheeses, and various exotic fruits.
At one end of the dining arch sat three men. They looked rather uncomfortable and would have been more at home in the local pub than in such a formal setting. At the crest of the arch, were two more men, or so Kile thought at first. It was only when she gave them a second look did she realize they weren’t men at all. They had an ethereal appearance about them, with pale skin, sharp features, and narrow eyes. These were the same Alva she had seen back in Forthbar. The same ones she had attacked. The sudden appearance of this race, here at this time, caught her by surprise. She had not expected to meet them, let alone dine with them. Her eyes scanned the corners of the room, looking for any suspicious shadows.
“Are you all right?” Daniel asked her.
She hadn’t realized she was holding up the line since she had stopped in the middle of the doorway.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she said, but she wasn’t sure she believed it. As long as the shadows didn’t move, she should be able to hold it together. The last thing she needed was to go feral in a place like this.
Jerald showed them to their seats and Kile found herself sitti
ng at the far end of the arch, so there were enough chairs between her and the Alva that nothing could possibly go wrong. That was until Boraro sat next to her.
He mumbled something under his breath before taking his seat, something about someone saving him. Kile never thought of him as being the religious sort, and it seemed funny he would take this moment to pray. Fortunately, Daniel was seated on her other side, so it wasn’t completely awkward. On the other side of Daniel sat Elmac; on the other side of Boraro sat Heaney and Creech. There were two empty seats before Jerald, one of the Alva, another empty seat, the second Alva, someone who Kile had never seen before, two more empty seats, and finally the three uncomfortable-looking gentlemen. All in all, they made for an unusual dining party.
After everyone was seated, Jerald stood. He didn’t have to wait for the room to settle down—nobody was talking. Mostly they were staring at one another, trying to figure out why the other person was there.
“I’m afraid His Highness has been detained and will be unable to join us tonight,” he said, slowly looking around the room. “He extends his apologies and hopes you will enjoy the feast that he had prepared for you.”
“When do we get to the reason why we’re all here?” one of the uncomfortable-looking men sitting across from Kile called out. He was an older gentleman, with a leathery face and greying hair, and looked as if he had seen his fair share of conflict.
“In time, Master Jasa,” Jerald said with a stiff bow. “Let us first enjoy the fare His Majesty has provided us.”
No sooner did Jerald sit, then the room exploded into motion. People moved from the central table to the dining tables and back, each one carrying either a tray or pitcher.
“What would you like, my lady?”
Kile looked up to see Clara standing before her. She didn’t realize the young woman had accompanied them down to the dining hall, not that she thought Clara was restricted to the upstairs east wing.
“Oh, I’m not sure.” Kile looked around at the others. There were so many servants now, moving back and forth between the tables, that it looked as if every guest had their own waiter. It made for a chaotic, if not awkward, dining experience. “What do you suggest?” she asked.
It would appear nobody asks a servant for their opinion as Clara looked startled by the question.
“I’m… not really sure… my lady,” she said. “I’ve been told the pork is rather fine.”
“Well, you see, I’m a vegetarian, so…”
“Oh, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Kile said, trying to calm the young woman down. “I’ve come to realize it’s not all that common.”
They glanced over at Boraro, who was already stuffing large chunks of pork into his mouth. The sight was rather appalling. “No, I wouldn’t think it would be,” Clara said.
Kile grinned. “Yeah, I know, it’s hard to get used to.”
“Well, what about the Ebenwall salad?” she suggested
Kile had never heard of Ebenwall, or of their salad, but since there was so much to choose from and she had no idea what she fancied, she was willing to give it a try. When Clara returned, she had a plate filled with fruits and vegetables covered with a light white dressing. The young woman waited nervously as Kile sampled it. It had a sharp, tangy flavor and was different from anything she had ever tasted before.
“This is pretty good,” she commented between mouthfuls. “And you said it was a…”
“Ebenwall salad,” the young woman replied.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Ebenwall.”
Clara looked down at her feet again. “I’m not surprised. It’s a small town in the Shia Province. It’s where I was born. Nobody has ever heard of it.”
“Shia? I’m from the Shia Province.”
She suddenly looked up. “You, my lady?”
“Well, yeah. I was born in Riverport. It’s in the northern part of the province.”
“Riverport?”
There was no note of recognition in the young woman’s voice, and Kile laughed.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” she said. “I have a feeling there aren’t too many people in the Shia Province who know any other town besides their own.”
Clara smiled. “I’m afraid I have to agree with you there.”
“Have you always worked here at the palace?”
“Only for about a year now. I had to—”
“Oh, please spare me,” Boraro grumbled. “Nobody cares about you or your past.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Clara said, and the smile quickly vanished from her face. Once again, she looked down at her feet. “Please, forgive me.”
Kile turned on the man. “What is your problem?”
“She’s a servant and should know better, as should you, Hunter.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean.”
“It means, if you want to make it in the Guild, you’d better know your station.”
“Just because I’m a Hunter doesn’t make me any better than anyone else.”
“No, he’s right, my lady,” Clara’s voice was timid. “I should not have been so familiar.”
“See? She knows her place.” Boraro grabbed his goblet and held it out to her. “Girl, get me something to drink.”
“Yes, sir”
The old Hunter grinned as Clara filled his cup. “See, that’s all girls are good for, among other things. You could learn something from that one.”
Kile slowly looked over at the man.
“Didn’t I break your nose once?” she said in a loud voice. The look on Boraro’s face was worth it.
“Why you little—”
“Enough,” Heaney said, stopping Boraro as he rose from his chair. “I will not have Hunters fighting Hunters.”
Kile didn’t think the man was foolish enough to start a fight with her in the middle of the king’s dining hall, but she couldn’t help but notice how tightly her own hand clutched the knife beside her plate. Nor did she feel Daniel’s hand on her arm, holding it down.
“Kile, get a grip on yourself,” he whispered.
She released the knife.
~~~***~~~
The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, or as silent as a room full of men stuffing their faces could be. It took all of Kile’s concentration to block out the sounds of Master Boraro chomping on yet another helping of pork. She was sure the man had devoured an entire drove of pigs all by himself. Daniel wasn’t much better, and although he didn’t eat nearly as much as the older Hunter, his dining habits left much to be desired. Kile tried her best to enjoy the salad, as well as the juice Clara had selected for her. After about two or three glasses, she was surprisingly relaxed.
As the plates emptied and guests were actually declining food, the heavyset man sitting beside the Alva, pushed his chair way from the table and stood up. Although one could have easily missed it as he wasn’t all that tall, to begin with. He tapped his mug on the table to get everyone’s attention.
“Now that it looks as if we might have finished off the king’s pantry,” he said with a good-natured smile, “I think it is time we get down to business.”
“Hear, hear,” the older gentleman across from Kile exclaimed as he raised his goblet.
“Don’t you think, Lord Elran, we should at least know who our guests are?” Jerald asked.
“Quite right, Master Dumgill,” Elran said as he banged his mug on the table again. “We should start by going around the room. You there, young man, state your name and where you are from.”
Jerald shook his head. This was clearly not what the king’s adviser had in mind, but Elmac pushed his chair away from the table and slowly got to his feet anyway. Looking around the room, the mystic cleared his throat before taking another sip of his wine.
“I am Mystic Elmac Okalis of the Tower, Magus of the Third Circle, mystics of the Second Order, and all-around decent chap,” he said with a slight bow before returning to his seat.
> Daniel looked at Elmac then at Lord Elran then at Kile before eventually standing.
“Certified Level Five Hunter, Daniel Leary, currently stationed at the Guild Hospital in Littenbeck,” he said, quickly sitting down.
Kile stood next and the room tilted. She braced herself against Master Boraro who quickly shrugged her off.
What was in that juice anyway?
“Three Level Hunter… no, that’s not right. Level… Certified Level Three Hunter, Kile… Veller, currently stationed… absolutely nowhere,” she said, flopping back down in her chair and would have missed it if Daniel hadn’t grabbed her.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“At the moment, I’m not feeling much of anything,” she answered, reaching for her goblet. Daniel quickly took it away.
“I think you’ve had enough,” he told her.
Boraro gave her one of his harrumphs, before getting to his feet.
“Certified Level One Hunter, Garret Boraro, currently stationed in Azintar.”
And so it went on.
“Certified Level One Hunter, William Heaney, currently stationed in Sofland.”
“Certified Level Three Hunter, Ernesto Creech, currently stationed in Fennel.”
There was a long pause before Lord Elran spoke up. “Come along Jerald. This was your idea,” he said.
“Your lordship. I am not assigned to this expedition, so I don’t see how…”
“You have chosen to dine with us. It is only proper manners.”
Jerald sighed before slowly rising. “I am Sir Jerald Dumgill, Senior Adviser to His Majesty King Roland Walter,” he finally said before sitting down.
The first Alva remained seated and didn’t seem at all amused by the bizarre rituals of the vir. His companion, on the other hand, reluctantly stood up.
