Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three)

by Cooley, Trevor H.

  “Bindy is dead!” the boy cried out.

  “Your goat?” The family kept many animals, but Bindy was their milking goat and the children’s favorite. She was quite old and had provided milk for all of the children since they were infants.

  “Yes! All our animals are dead! But Bindy . . .” He buried his head into Fist’s hairy chest and sobbed.

  “All of them?” Fist looked to Master Coal for an explanation, but the wizard shook his head.

  “What about your brothers and sisters?” Master Coal said. “Is your mother alright?”

  The boy nodded and raised his head. “They are okay, but mom sent me to get help. Stephen wouldn’t go with me though. He stayed behind to protect everyone else.”

  “A good brother,” Fist said and put the boy gently to the side, before pulling on clothes as fast as he could. At his suggestion, Squirrel came out of his house and ran over to the boy, curling up in his lap and offering a nut. “I will go now. Stay here with Squirrel. He will watch over you until I get back.”

  “Samson is coming with you, Fist,” Master Coal said. “He is waiting outside. I will follow with others shortly. Tell Justan.”

  Fist ran for the door, not bothering with shoes as they would take him too long to put on. When he ran out the lodge door, the cold air hit him like a slap in the face, but he ignored it. Samson was waiting and he had grown big. He held two steel-tipped spears and tossed one of them to Fist. The ogre caught it with a nod of thanks.

  “Get on. There is no time for you to run.”

  The centaur knelt down and Fist swung his leg over the saddle. He barely had time to get his toes in the stirrups before Samson was up and running. Fist was not used to riding a horse, but Samson was the first one he had ever ridden that was large enough to carry him without being overburdened. The centaur understood that he was inexperienced and gave him as smooth a ride as he could without slowing down.

  They raced through the night, a full moon lighting their way and Fist held on as well as he could while waking Justan through the bond. Once he knew that Justan and Gwyrtha would follow, Fist thought about what Jerrold had said. What had happened to Miss Nala’s animals? How could they all be dead? Was it sickness? He asked Samson and the centaur shook his head.

  “If all the animals are truly dead, it was not sickness. No illness would affect all of them or catch on so quickly. Besides, when the boy arrived, all he said before asking for you was ‘blood’. There is something else going on.”

  “I see.” Fist gripped the spear tighter and prepared his mind for battle.

  As they approached the farmhouse, Fist could see that Jerrold’s claims were true. In the light of the moon, he saw the still forms of Miss Nalla’s animals lying in the fields. The smell of their blood hung thick in the crisp night air. Even so, Fist was not prepared for the sight that awaited them on the family’s porch.

  Bindy wasn’t just dead. She had been dissected and pulled apart piece by piece and her remains were strewn across the porch in a grotesque tableau. Fist climbed from the centaur’s back and looked around the yard for any sign that the intruder was still around.

  “It was done almost . . . artfully,” Samson said, his face twisted in disgust as he stared at the grisly scene.

  Indeed, the placing of Bindy’s parts was deliberate. Each lump of flesh or shard of bone was placed in a precise pattern. Fist attempted to step onto the porch, trying to avoid stepping in the gore, but it would have been impossible. He caught a glimpse of Bindy’s head sitting atop a coiled pile of intestines right in front of the door as if to greet the person opening it, and changed his mind.

  He ran around to the back of the house.

  “Miss Nala! I’m here!” He reached the back door, but before he could pound on it, the door opened.

  “Fist?” Steffen peeked out with a sword in one hand, eyes wide, looking terrified but ready to do battle. When he saw Fist standing in the moonlight, the boy smiled in relief and opened the door wider.

  “Don’t come out!” Fist said and the door narrowed to a crack again. “Is everyone okay in there?”

  The boy nodded.

  “Tell Miss Nala that Jerrold is safe and me and Samson are looking outside. Do not open the other door!” Fist said, but by the look on Steffen’s face, he could see that the boy already had.

  Fist sensed that Justan was astride Gwyrtha and thundering down the road after them. He had Ma’am strung and ready. Samson headed to the other animal enclosures to check for signs of whoever had done this. Fist walked to the edge of the woods behind the goat pen with spear at the ready. He was so focused that he didn’t even feel the frozen earth against the skin of his feet.

  There was movement in the trees.

  Fist ran forward, his hunter’s senses taking over as he followed the sound and the slightest hint of movement the moonlight showed him. But whatever he was chasing was clever and he soon lost its trail. He searched around for a moment longer before Gwyrtha and Justan caught up to him. Justan slid off Gwyrtha’s back and set her on the trail of the thing.

  “Did you see it?” Justan asked, his bow at the ready.

  “Some of it,” Fist said. “It was fast and I can’t . . . tell you right, but I will show you.”

  He delved into the bond and showed Justan the moment of memory he had. He couldn’t make out exactly what it was, but a few things stood out clearly. Whatever he had seen had scales that reflected in the moonlight and it carried a sword on its back.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Their search for the creature was fruitless. Despite Gwyrtha’s superior tracking abilities, she lost its trail soon after Justan arrived. It occurred to them that whatever Fist had seen in the woods could have circled back to attack again and they rushed back to the farmhouse. To their relief, Master Coal and Qyxal had arrived and were tending to the family. Miss Nala and the children were shaken but unharmed.

  The sky soon brightened with the morning light and Master Coal sent his workers out to assess the damage. Fist volunteered to stay with the family, while Justan left the house with Coal and Qyxal to figure out exactly what had happened.

  From the state of Bindy’s corpse, they knew that the attacker was both intelligent and twisted. They couldn’t quite tell what message the placement of the goat’s body parts was meant to send, but the attack was personal, designed to terrorize the family. Master Coal ordered some men to clear the remains from the porch. There was no need to make the family deal with it any further.

  “Whoever did this knew the family well enough to pick their favorite goat to make an example of.” Qyxal remarked. “Could it have been one of the other farmers? Is there someone that doesn’t like her?”

  “No,” Master Coal replied. “There isn’t that kind of animosity in this community. At least not in regards to Nala. Her husband was greatly admired by everyone and in the time since he passed, she has earned their respect.”

  “Maybe someone else they knew from their life outside the community?” Justan asked. “A relative?”

  “I’ll ask her, but I doubt it,” the master said. “It wouldn’t have had to be someone close to the family. Anyone that watched the children once with that goat would have seen the way they doted on it. Samson will be here soon with more information.”

  The centaur arrived a moment later to tell them the results of his search. Few animals had survived. Some of the sheep had broken out of the pen during the attack and were being rounded up. Two of the workhorses had been in Master Coal’s stable waiting to be re-shoed and a few chickens had been overlooked, but the majority of Nala’s animals were dead. It was a disaster.

  “Nala will not be able to keep the farm going with two workhorses and a handful of sheep.” Master Coal’s face was calm as he considered the prospects. “Samson, have the men clean up the carcasses and haul them off for disposal. Tell them to salvage what wool they can from the dead sheep. Perhaps some of the meat from the animals is salvageable as well. We will see what she want
s to keep and pay her for the rest. Oh, and something else . . .” From the look they exchanged, Justan could see that they were communicating further through the bond. The centaur nodded and galloped away. “Edge, would it be alright if Gwyrtha joined him? Samson is going to need a lot of help.”

  “Of course,” Justan said and Gwyrtha trotted off after the centaur. “This is bad isn’t it?”

  “Miss Nala may have to give up the farm,” Qyxal replied.

  “We’ll worry about that later,” Master Coal said. “For now, let’s focus on figuring out who did this.”

  “We know one thing,” Justan said. “With the sheer number of animals killed in the short amount of time it was done, we are looking for multiple attackers.”

  “Or one very vicious creature,” Qyxal said.

  “How could one individual do all this in one night without being heard?” Justan asked.

  “It could have been done,” Master Coal said. “Samson says that all the animals were killed quickly. Their throats were cut or they were struck a single stab to the heart. It was done in a quick and efficient manner.”

  “I need to take a look at some of those animals,” Qyxal said.

  They went to the barn to examine some of the corpses and as they saw the attacker’s handiwork in the light, it became evident that whatever had attacked was not bandits or men at all, but some kind of creature or creatures. The wounds on the animals were made by sharp teeth or claws, with occasional deep puncture wounds that could have been made by a horn or something. The attacker had been careful, but Qyxal eventually did find some strange tracks. Whatever had done this had claws on its feet at least.

  “Fist saw a creature go into the woods last night,” Justan said. “A scaly beast that carried a sword.”

  “But none of these animals were killed by a sword,” Qyxal replied. “Are you sure that is what he saw?”

  “Fist showed me the memory. He definitely saw what he described,” Justan said. “Even if the beast was not what killed the animals, it must have been involved somehow.”

  “The mysteries continue to pile up,” Master Coal said. “Qyxal, go around to the various attack sites and see if you can discover more. Edge, why don’t you come with me? We should tell Nala what we found.”

  Justan followed Master Coal to the farmhouse. By the time they arrived, the workers had already cleared away Bindy’s remains. Miss Nala and her oldest girl were scrubbing away the blood of their beloved goat from the wooden porch. She saw them arrive and walked towards Master Coal on trembling legs.

  “So what did you find, Master Coal? How many of our animals survived?” Her tone was optimistic, but her face showed that she did not expect the results to be good.

  The wizard told her what Samson and the workers had discovered. As she digested the information her lips trembled, but she did not cry. Nala nodded and her voice was clear and unwavering when she spoke. “Thank you for your help. I will go to farmer Tabot this afternoon and tell him the land is up for sale. He offered to purchase it when David died. Maybe he is still interested.”

  “Nala, that will not be necessary.” Master Coal placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I had Samson send some men to tell all the other farmers what has happened. They are putting out a request for help. You know our community. They will be generous. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if your animals were replaced by the end of the day.” Her eyes filled with tears as he spoke and she opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

  “If not, I will replace them myself,” Master Coal added.

  “I-I . . .” Miss Nala fell to her knees in front of the wizard and clutched his pant legs as if the weight of his kindness had pulled her down instead of lifting her spirits. “We owe so much to you, Master Coal. If it wasn’t for your generosity, I don’t know where we would be. I-I am sorry to be such a burden,”

  Master Coal gently removed her hands and knelt beside her. “Nala, it is no burden. David was a great help to me when I first purchased my farm here. Without his support, my bonded and I never would have been accepted into this community. Helping you is just one small thing that I can do to repay him. Besides, you more than earn the assistance you get.” Some firmness entered his voice. “I still expect our arrangement to be in force, by the way.”

  “Of course,” she replied and Justan could tell that the weight of her guilt had been somewhat lifted. Master Coal stood and held out a hand to help her to her feet. Nala walked back towards the house and went back to scrubbing the porch with her daughter.

  Justan reached through the bond to check with Fist. The ogre was inside carrying plates to the family’s table. Giggling children were hanging from each of his mighty arms. They seemed to have recovered from the horrors of the night before. Justan told him what they had found.

  Fist was upset about the loss of the animals, but relieved that the family’s farm would survive. His main concern was about the creature’s possible return. The ogre intended to stay there for the day just in case.

  Justan turned to Master Coal. “Perhaps I should forgo my lessons today and stay here with Fist. The creature may come back.”

  “I’m sure they will be fine. Fist is more than capable of protecting them don’t you think?” Coal asked.

  “He wouldn’t let anything happen to them,” Justan agreed, thinking back to the horrible tragedy with Tamboor’s family. “If any creature tried to attack Miss Nala or any of the children with him around . . . I would pity that creature.”

  “No you wouldn’t,” Master Coal replied with a knowing look. Justan smiled in response.

  “No I wouldn’t,” he agreed. “It would deserve whatever Fist did to it.”

  “Very well then. Since Samson and Gwyrtha are hard at work elsewhere, why don’t we start walking back to the keep? We can discuss today’s lesson on the way.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The day had become unseasonably warm and Justan shed his jacket as they walked. They started up the road, passing men who were cleaning up the carcasses of the animals. Justan waited for the men to be out of earshot before he spoke.

  “Did you get my message to Willum last night?”

  “Yes, I dictated your letter to him exactly as you wrote it. He said that your father is away on an important mission, but he will take the message to the rest of the council. Evidently Willum is quite close to Tad, the Cunning.”

  “Oh . . . good.” Justan said, a bit disappointed that his father had not been able to receive the message directly. He had also considered passing along a message to Jhonate, but now he was glad that he hadn’t. Justan didn’t know how many people would have heard it.

  “I also sent a letter off to Wizard Valtrek and told him to get Qyxal’s message to the elves in the Tinny Woods. I would suggest you stop worrying for now. There is nothing more we can do. Hopefully Willum will tell me the council’s reaction when I contact him later today. I will let you know what happens as soon as I hear back.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, Master Coal.”

  “Now, back to your lesson. I know that it was an eventful night, but did you get the chance to apply anything we spoke about yesterday?”

  “Yes!” Justan said, suddenly remembering what he had been so eager to speak with the wizard about. He related what he had discovered about Fist’s bond with Squirrel.

  “Excellent! That was the surprise I wanted you to find!” Coal said with a wide grin. He looked more excited than Justan had seen him before. “Don’t you find it fascinating?”

  “Well, y-yes. But how is that possible? I mean, at first I thought he got the ability from me, but he says Squirrel felt the bond from the first time they met.”

  The wizard nodded. “That makes sense. The bond helps each of you by enhancing attributes you already have, but it would not give your bonded new abilities. How long has he known Squirrel?”

  “About a year before we bonded. But . . . do ogres even have magic?”

  “I’m not an expert on Fist’s
race,” Coal said. “But I do recall hearing that there were ogre mages during the War of the Dark Prophet, so I see no reason an ogre bonding wizard couldn’t be a possibility.”

  “So Fist is a bonding wizard . . .” It was the first time Justan had thought of it in that light.

  “Yes. It would seem he is.”

  “But could that cause a problem? How will his bond with Squirrel react to mine? Are the bonds connected together in some way? Can I communicate with Squirrel directly or . . ?”

  “Those are very interesting questions and I don’t honestly know the answers. The concept of two bonding wizards linked together is one I have never thought about. If you want to try and reach out to Squirrel, you can I suppose. But I have no idea what kind of response you will get. I suggest asking Fist how he feels about it. At any rate, you will have to deal with it sooner or later. Fist could bond to something else, you know.”