by David Greer
Chapter 5
It was quiet outside of McGrady's farm. Too quiet for Scully's liking. The young hunter stood just beyond the wooden rail fence which enclosed McGrady's farm. Within the fence was a small pasture where the few livestock McGrady owned would graze. Separated from that was another small field where crops grew. At the moment McGrady's livestock was closed up in the barn, which was a faded red where the paint hadn't chipped off. Beyond the barn was McGrady's house, a modest dwelling not much larger than Grimey's. The wind vane on top of the barn was completely still.
Scully stood firm holding his bow, a rudimentary recurve bow, with an arrow between his fingers nocked on the bowstring. His gaze was fixed on the treeline, which was also completely still. No breeze, no movement, no sign of anything purple. There weren't any birds around to relieve the silence with their chirping.
For the third time that minute Scully flicked his head to clear his dirty-blonde hair away from his face. It's not like the young hunter's shaggy hair was long enough to get in his eyes, he was just on edge. This was his first time being part of a kingpin hunt and he got the least exciting role: watchman. But regardless, he was fully armed with his bow, a full quiver of arrows slung across his back, and a pair of daggers at his belt. The young hunter stood tense as he held his bow with a white-knuckle grip.
Scully had been out in the woods a handful of times with Clyde, Smythe, and Grimey watching and learning how they hunt. Scully was learning to creep silently, develop a keen eye to pick up colors and movements that were out of the ordinary, and, of course, how to use his weapons effectively. Scully, like Clyde, preferred a bow and a pair of daggers. It allowed him to pick off beasts from a distance but also be prepared if anything got close. He also wanted to learn to be proficient in the broadsword like Smythe. However, what Scully wanted more than proficiency with weapons was the courage and tenacity of Grimey. He had witnessed Grimey charge into packs of beasts and leave a trail of carcasses in his wake. Scully was always awed at Grimey's ability to overcome a monster, or several, through sheer power of will.
The day Scully could hunt like his mentors was far away, he knew, and today he was to guard the treeline. He remembered what Grimey had told him earlier.
“Keep an eye on the treeline. You see anything purple, shoot it.”
“How exactly do you hunt a kingpin?” Scully asked.
“It's simple really.” Grimey said. “You run in, kill it, and walk out.” And with those wise words Grimey headed into the woods.
“Were you expecting something profound?” Clyde asked. “Just make sure no banshees get into town. And make sure none of them follow us out when we come back.”
That had been over an hour ago. Scully had kept the same arrow at the ready and paced along the edge of McGrady's farm keeping a watchful eye on the treeline. He hadn't seen a spot of purple all morning.
Clyde leaned out from behind the cover of a tree, an arrow nocked and drawn back. He sighted down the length of the arrow picking out his target. No adjustments were needed for wind as the air was still. He tilted the bow slightly upward to compensate for distance, brought the bowstring to a full draw, felt his fingers barely touch his cheek and released. The arrow flew through the air and connected with its target. A banshee dropped from a tree and fell only a few feet away from Grimey, who was creeping silently through the woods. The bearded hunter turned and shook his head at Clyde. This was the third time a dead banshee fell close to him. It was as though Clyde was trying to drop dead banshees on top of him. Clyde smiled to himself because that's exactly what he had been doing.
Clyde used a recurve bow made from hickory. It was an agile weapon. Small so he could easily move through the woods but powerful and accurate enough to drop a banshee at distance. Clyde wielded the weapon with ease and nocked another arrow hoping for another banshee to drop on top of Grimey.
However, the time for playing was over. Grimey spotted what he dubbed the kingpin's road. Banshees are drawn to their kingpin. Not only do they form a protective cocoon around their leader, like the one Grimey saw the previous day, the rest of the banshees will crowd the surrounding trees. Essentially they form a path of purple that leads straight to the kingpin. Grimey learned this long ago and had just spotted a dense cluster of banshees.
Grimey ducked behind a tree and scanned the woods. A ways away he spotted Clyde. The bearded hunter waved and signaled in the direction of the kingpin's road. Clyde nodded his understanding and began moving ahead into position. Grimey waited a moment and took the opportunity to visualize his attack. He imagined maneuvering through the woods swiftly and reaching the clearing where the kingpin had taken up residence in a large oak tree and sending a blade straight into its ugly face. Grimey opened his eyes and stepped out from behind the tree. It was time to run.
With a hatchet in each hand Grimey bolted into the banshees. Following purple tree after purple tree, the hunter ran deeper into the woods. He held a fast pace because every banshee that spotted him took to the air and gave chase. His pace was fast enough to keep most of the banshees behind him but occasionally one of the flying beasts would get near enough to bite or swipe a claw. This is where Clyde came in. He sent arrows into the swarm of banshees to scatter them and scare them away from chasing Grimey.
With all stealth abandoned, the bearded hunter followed the trail of purple without missing a step. He heard the swarm of banshees behind him shrieking and flapping their wings. From somewhere off to the right he heard the thwack of a bowstring followed by the thud of a dead banshee crashing to the ground behind him. Grimey didn't hear as many wings flapping. Timid things banshees are, he thought.
Grimey rounded a tree and saw a banshee flying directly at him with its claws outstretched ready to strike. He let a hatchet fly and ducked. The banshee hit the ground with the hatchet buried in its chest. Grimey drew another hatchet and kept going. It was best to have two hatchets ready at all times during the run. He heard shrieks and wings flapping all around him and the trees ahead looked more purple than green. He was close to the kingpin. What Grimey didn't hear anymore was the sound of Clyde's bow. Grimey was on his own now.
He rounded around another tree and reached the clearing he saw the previous day. There was a single tree at the center covered with banshees. The protective cocoon with the kingpin at its center. Grimey had hunted kingpins before and knew that as soon as it was dead the other banshees would scatter in fear. The trick was breaking through the layer of bodyguards surrounding the kingpin. This was the main reason why Grimey kept two hatchets drawn. The hunter sprinted straight at the kingpin's tree and hurled a hatchet at it. The blade ripped into the cluster of purple killing several banshees but more importantly, it sent several more scattering away. Grimey caught a glimpse of the kingpin's green eyes, which were fixed on the hunter. The large purple beast clung to the tree's trunk with its large claws dug deep into the bark. The kingpin was several times larger than a normal banshee, even larger than Grimey himself. It was easily the largest kingpin Grimey had ever seen. But size didn't matter to the hunter. The blade of his hatchet would slice through it all the same.
Sensing danger, the kingpin spread its wings and prepared to take flight. It gave Grimey a great target. He hurled the other hatchet and took off one of the kingpin's wings. The beast fell hard onto the ground and Grimey was on it instantly with his great-axe drawn. In a single motion Grimey pounced and brought his axe down in an overhead arc and split the center of the kingpin's head.
As expected the other banshees scattered and flew away. What wasn't expected was for some of them to turn around and attack Grimey while he relaxed and caught his breath. A swarm of ten banshees caught Grimey by surprise. They surrounded the hunter and attacked from every angle. Talons thrashed and teeth gnawed at the hunter. One banshee dove from overhead and dug one of its talons into the back of Grimey's right shoulder sending a searing hot jolt of pain through the hunter. He let out a loud roar and began swinging his axe in a fit of rage. The w
hirling blade sent any banshee that came near to its death. Within moments the banshees were dead. Grimey felt the warmth of his blood trickle down his back then noticed a shadow loom across the ground. He looked up and saw another swarm of banshees diving at him. Time to run again. He sent a hatchet flying into a banshee's chest and began a mad dash back the way he came.
Scully had been on edge all morning. Although he hadn't seen a single dot of purple in the trees he refused to relax. He had kept the same arrow nocked on his bowstring all morning long. Clyde had emerged from the treeline a few moments earlier. While he was covering Grimey a swarm of banshees had spotted him and attacked. By the time Clyde was able to take them out he lost track of Grimey. Clyde searched the woods a bit then noticed a large swarm of banshees break out on the skyline some distance ahead. He figured Grimey had just taken out the kingpin and decided to head back to McGrady's. What Clyde didn't see when he turned away was that many of the banshees dove back down into the trees.
Scully and Clyde now waited for Grimey to return. Something caught Scully's attention in the woods. Then Clyde turned his head noticing the same thing. It was shouting. Grimey burst out of the treeline running full at speed with a swarm of over twenty banshees chasing him. Scully didn't hesitate. He drew his bowstring back and sent an arrow into the first banshee he saw. He nocked another arrow and took out another banshee. Clyde quickly joined in. They sent arrow after arrow as rapidly as they could into the swarm of banshees. The two hunters dropped six purple beasts to the ground before the swarm finally scattered and turned back into the woods.
Grimey was out of breath and bled from multiple cuts on his face, arms, back, and chest. Not to mention the huge gash across his right shoulder blade. Scully saw it and grew worried. Grimey noticed the look on the young hunter's face.
“That one should scar nicely.” Grimey said. “Nice shooting lads. I got the kingpin but the banshees didn't scatter like normal. Instead the buggers attacked. Caught me with my guard down. Let that be a lesson.” The last words were directed at Scully.
Inside McGrady's house the farmer prepared a meal for the hunters while his wife, Marian, tended to Grimey's wounds. Marian wore a plain light brown dress that fell just above her ankles. Like her husband's clothes, her dress was blotched with faded dirt stains. Marian moved with a purpose as she prepared a balm for Grimey's wounds. She applied the white concoction onto his cuts and liberally slathered it onto the large gash across his shoulder blade. The balm would help clean the wounds and speed the healing process.
“Take the rest my dear.” Marian said sweetly holding out a small white jar of the healing balm. “Knowing you, you'll need this again soon enough.” Grimey chuckled and waved the offer aside.
“I'll heal up just fine.” He said.
“I said take it” Marian said firmly, all sweetness of voice abandoned. “You're going to need it, you always do.” She shoved the balm into the bearded hunter's face. He accepted the gift muttering his thanks. She was probably right, he would likely need more healing balm soon enough.
With his wounds treated and bandaged Grimey joined the other hunters at the kitchen table for lunch. There was an assortment of bread, cheeses, and dried meat spread across the table. All of it made by McGrady. Grimey spread a soft cheese on some bread and stacked several slices of meat on it. He rolled the bread over onto itself and took a bite. “Well one thing's for sure.” Grimey said between mouthfuls. “Scully's been practicing with that bow. Impressive shooting lad.”
“Thanks. And yes I practice a lot. I don't want to miss when it counts, you know.” Scully said.
“And that's the dedication it takes to be a good hunter.” Clyde said. He was chewing on a bread roll.
“I'm bothered by this hunt. Something about it wasn't right.” Grimey said. Clyde nodded agreement but Scully looked confused. Several things bothered Grimey. First, the kingpin was particularly large this time. Then there were the sentry banshees, which had never been witnessed before. It showed an unusual amount of organization. There was also the heightened aggression the banshees displayed after the kingpin had died. All of these things left a sour taste in Grimey's mouth. The banshees, always predictable in their behavior, acted very differently. Grimey wondered if this change was a one-time occurrence. If not, he wondered if the change went beyond the banshees and affected all monsters. That could be a problem. A major problem.
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