Taste of the Hunt

by Matt Mememaro

  “So how do you tell who a Vampire is and who isn’t?” Abner asked. “I was looking all throughout the arena and everyone seemed human. There was also one that attempted to rob my tent. Until he came into contact with the Fyndfire I couldn’t tell the difference between him and me. He was human, Barros.”

  “It’s all part of the fun. As a Hunter you’ve got to be ready for anything even if that means their claws are raking against your neck as you draw your sword. But luckily for you two, in recent years we’ve finally learnt what sets them apart. For a start their ring finger is often the longest digit and their eyes are diluted that constantly change in the smallest ways. Both are very subtle and easily miss able to the untrained,” Barros said.

  “I would have liked to have known that earlier today,” Abner said. “That way I wouldn’t have put Lois in danger by having her chase one.”

  “She’s an assassin and a Sword Lord, same as you, boy. No matter what you choose to do in this life you’ll be in danger,” Barros said.

  “Every man I’ve killed so far I’ve killed with ease,” Abner said.

  “So you call that ease with what you did to the Alilletian in the first round?” Barros laughed. He threw his head back forcing his hood to fall down for the first time, revealing three long white scars running from his eye to his lower lip. “Like them?” he laughed, again lowering the hood. “This is what happens even when you’re the best in our business.”

  “What happened?” Lois asked.

  “A Vampire got me only five days ago on a hunt down in Sauria. Nothing out of the ordinary really, it was just a Count that’d been making a name for himself and began to amass followers. Naturally whenever that happens, we go and sort it out. But anyway, Rowan was there as well. I’ve got to stretch my legs,” Barros said.

  “You’re a much better storyteller than I am, Barros,” Rowan said.

  “I was in the thick of it, got my face clawed up. My memory isn’t the best. Get your ass over here and tell them,” Barros said.

  “Alright, alright, give me a minute,” Rowan said. He hobbled over and took a seat beside the fire. The Highlander looked around at his companions before drawing a pipe.

  “You’re going to smoke that here while we’re on business?” Barros asked.

  “What, you’ve got to die of something,” Rowan said. He leant back, inhaling before blowing out several large hoops of smoke. “Now this Vampire was cunning and intelligent, not a good combination for one of them to have. One of the most dangerous we’ve ever hunted.”

  “Top ten, I reckon, up there with the worst of them all,” Barros said.

  “So naturally, this Count could control people. Think of a fly trap if you will. Most Counts have magic that allows them to either bend humans to their will or lure them into dangerous situations. What makes it worse is that he managed to snare Hunters, enabling him to become even stronger," Rowan said.

  “Alone in a city without any additional support is not always an ideal way to go. But we had it covered,” Barros said.

  “We were up to our necks in Vampires, a whole cult crawling throughout the city. There was no way we could wait any longer, so we went searching for him,” Rowan said. “I took the rooftops and Barros went to the streets, so as you can imagine we were rather exposed. The rain came down hard and lightning split the sky. It took over an hour for the monster to show himself.”

  “Fucking talk about unpunctual. I've been soaked before, but never like in that deluge. I was pretty happy when he showed his ugly face,” Barros said.

  “This particular Count was very old fashioned; he had the mentality of Vampires just after they landed on Taagras. He believed that Vampires shouldn't have needed to hide their faces around humans. The land in which they came from referred to them as gods,” Rowan said.

  “Wouldn't it be easy to track them if they refused to not pose as humans?” Lois asked.

  “It would be, yes, but he was one in a million if not more. Very few followed him and in order for that to work, thousands of Vampires would need to wear their true skin. Either way Barros approached the monster, they shared a few words and it was on. Called out a lot of his Minors, Specters and Desires, they're lesser Vampires you'll learn about when you come to the Huntrey with us. Lower ranked Vampires such as these, tend to flock to the Counts when they think there’s a chance of them becoming more powerful. Putting all that aside, to cut a long story short, Barros fought him, killed him and somewhere amongst that he got the scars,” Rowan said. “He got too cocky and paid for it.

  “Sounds about right,” Barros said. “That’s enough of the story, I think. Besides we could go into more detail, but we don’t want to be here all night. You two have to rest up before tomorrow.”

  “I’m rested already,” Abner said.

  “No you’re not. Don’t take anything for granted here in this arena. Nothing is as it seems. That Vampire you killed today should be proof enough of that.”

  “How did you know about that?” Lois asked. “We kept that under wraps.”

  “It was that fucking obvious, word gets around. Especially here. I’d expect you two will be on everyone’s to watch list now. That was a good effort for your first Vampire kill,” Barros said. “Now get some rest and we’ll be around in the morning, although you won’t see us.”

  Several hours later Abner had finally fallen asleep, only to be interrupted by nightmares, clouded by the dead Vampire. His wild eyes rested above Lois’ head, his twisted hand laying on her shoulder. With a single movement of his free hand, Lois dropped violently, a mad cackle in Abner’s ears.

  He awoke with a gasp, his eyes focusing on the dark roof of his tent. The sound of rustling from the next tent quickly followed. Within seconds Lois had sprawled into his.

  “Ab are you alright?”

  “I’m fine, go back to bed. It was just a night terror.”

  Instead of leaving Lois dropped to the floor, her hand brushing over Abner’s chest as she descended. He felt a quick flutter burst through him. As Lois came to rest on him, her leg slid over his crotch, causing another large flutter before tucking herself under his arm and into his neck.

  “Comfortable?”

  Lois’ only response was to grunt before she sighed and fell asleep.

  9

  A Debt of Blood

  As the sun rose over the arena, those with jobs to attend to, began scurrying around the temporary tent city. Smiths, bakers and other craftsmen had already begun their day’s work well before the sun had risen. Abner opened his eyes to find Lois sprawled over him, her blonde hair strewn everywhere, much like her body.

  Abner gently stroked her face, brushing her hair away, forcing her to wake. She groaned, rolling off him and left the tent without exchanging a word. Part of Abner missed the traps that he would wake up to every morning when he yet lived inside the walls of the Fortress. Regardless he checked his immediate environment, born out of habit.

  Lois called him out of the tent and Abner rose to find her arms stretching up far above her head. With her arms, Lois’ shirt rose, revealing part of her lower back, the dimples prominent to Abner as he gazed at the girl he had grown up with. All he could feel was the growing sensation between his legs as he watched her bend down, moving wood closer to the fire.

  “Good morning.” He rubbed his eyes clear of the sleep dust.

  Lois turned around to smile at him. “Hi, ready to win today?”

  “I don’t know, it seems like luck has gotten me this far, but I know that I can win,” Abner said. “Malvrok trained me to beat anyone that I came across and so far I have.”

  “He didn’t teach us to beat everyone, he taught us to kill. That’s why the Hunters want us to join them,” Lois said.

  “Those are dark thoughts for such a bright morning.”

  “I still have darker to delve into. What if there are Vampires within the last rounds of the tournament? Going face to face with one; the odds don’t seem as if they are in your favor.” />
  “I’m glad you have faith in me,” Abner said. “Barros gave me a crossbow, and my sword proved enough to kill the first Vampire. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  “You better be,” Lois said. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

  “Nor I, you,” Abner said. “Can you cook breakfast? I need to get ready.”

  “Of course, give me a little while,” Lois said.

  With their bellies full of food, armor upon their bodies, the two warriors pressed towards the arena, moving through the tent city spread out on the surrounding terraces. On his hip, Abner wore his sword while Lois carried a short sword and bow over her shoulder. The crowd was thick, the stone white arena filled to capacity and the rumblings echoed through the floor above.

  “We’re not going to get anywhere in a hurry,” Abner said.

  “Come with me,” Lois said. She grabbed his hand, ducking into a dim passageway.

  Abner followed her, the sound of the crowd dying out almost instantly as they venture down the dark corridor. Their footsteps echoed off the tiles around them as the pair found themselves stepping out into an overgrown courtyard, the statue of a Renori swordsman towering above them.

  “Something’s not right here,” Abner said. “Get your sword out, we need to go back.”

  “It’s far too late for that, my young friend,” a deep booming voice called from above the young warriors.

  There was a sound like the fluttering of numerous wings, a bat taking flight, followed by several soft thuds. Several seconds later there was one more and Abner found a man covered in a black camouflaged cloak crouched before him. The man raised his head, and instead of a face was a red mask in the crude shape of an angry wolf.

  Abner cast his gaze around, seeing nine more figures emerge from the darkness of the courtyard, ducking out from behind the white pillars that surrounded the mossy statue. The nine took up a position behind the wolf mask, dropping to one knee, their right arms across their left knees revealing wicked hooked blades.

  “Brothers of the Blood Brotherhood,” Lois said.

  “Ah, Redjay, I’m glad you recognize those you call family. I thought you would fail your mission and as it turns out I was right. A man came to us only days ago to reveal the true identity of your target on this mission.”

  “Was he the man that delivered me to you a year ago?” Lois asked.

  “Perhaps, but he was different.”

  “Marco, stop playing your fucking games,” Lois said. “Was it him or wasn’t it?”

  “Ah Redjay, such fire. That’s what I liked about you. Regardless, it makes little difference. We’re here to kill you,” Marco said.

  “You’re not...”

  Marco’s hand dived into his cloak, returning a second later holding another red mask. Squinting at the design in the darkness, Abner saw it carved into the shape of a raven’s head. Marco held it outstretched before him, before dropping it onto the mossy tiles. His black boot rose and fell, crushing the mask.

  “Your mask is now broken, Redjay, you must follow its path. Your actions speak for themselves and you are now of no use to the Brotherhood. You turned your back on us and have advised a target of your intentions. Goodbye.”

  Wasting no time, Lois had her bow in hand, an arrow drawn. Taking less than a second to aim, she loosened an arrow at Marco, who simply laughed as he twirled out of the missile’s trajectory. He closed the distance between him and the two young warriors, meeting Abner’s sword halfway.

  “Ah, I’ve heard of you. You’re the one that wields the demon sword. It shall be my pleasure in taking it from you,” Marco said. He pressed forward, his mask level with Abner’s face.

  Abner pushed against the assassin, turning his blade away before another red masked brother stepped in the way of his next strike. Jumping back, deflecting the second blade with an angled parry, Abner kicked low at the assassin catching him off guard. With a quick jab the man fell in a pool of blood, his leader waiting for Abner to attack.

  Lois fired another arrow into a third brother, to no effect. She drew her sword, sliding into an easy forward stance. Before she got the chance to strike, the sound of two repeating crossbows filled the courtyard. Seven swords clanged loudly on the tiles as a bolt pierced Marco’s shoulder. He let out a savage cry, dropping to one knee in surrender.

  “Ah, Lightbringer, I should have foreseen you had allies hidden in the darkness of your shadow.”

  “It would have made little difference,” Barros said moving out of the shadows, his crossbow resting casually on his shoulder.

  “Ah, it was you that brought the Redjay to us,” Marco said. “And now you end us?”

  Barros’ only response was to charge at Marco, hitting him full in the face with a running knee. The assassin’s head snapped back, his mask dislodged, face now visible. His piercing eyes glared up into Barros’ unyielding ones, only inches away.

  “I took her to you, yes, but since that day I have not seen you. You are mistaken. Why did you send the Redjay to kill the boy?”

  “The boy is a renegade, posing as the exile, Malvrok. Councilor Graytooth wanted him dead and anyone that would dare take up his visage,” Marco said.

  “I assumed it would be safer to enter the tournament as Malvrok,” Abner said.

  “Fool never attract unwanted attention. Does Graytooth have a bounty on his head outside the Brotherhood?” Barros asked.

  “He does. Graytooth didn’t lay trust in a girl. He has a contingency plan within these very walls.”

  “We’d best find him, Barros. Don’t want the boy dying before he reaches the Huntrey, now do we?” Rowan asked from above them. He dropped down.

  Barros bit his lip in frustration. “No, it is not a risk we can take. Rowan, see if you can find anything out.”

  “Naturally, you’ll be right with these two?” the Highlander asked.

  “You ask as if I haven’t handled a novice before. Now, Marco if that is your name. What do we do with you?” Barros asked.

  “Kill him,” Lois said.

  “Redjay, you wouldn’t. Come back with me and we can be happy together like we were! You enjoyed killing, spending the nights with me.”

  “It was only temporary. I needed something to get me away from you. You’re a monster,” Lois said. “Besides, there’s no going back now. You shattered my mask. You taught me that.”

  “I can reverse that decision, Redjay. I can make you a new mask,” Marco said.

  “It’s too late for that now, assassin,” Barros said. “You’ve made your choice.”

  “I’ll do the honors, it’s only fitting I be the one to end his life,” Lois said.

  She stepped up behind Marco, pulling him to his knees by his hair. Looking down at the man she had once called lover, Lois sighed as the blade ran across his throat.

  “You gave me a home and took me in when I didn’t have a family, Marco. I hope the Blood God welcomes you to his throne.

  “How are you feeling?” Barros asked.

  With her bloodied sword in hand, Lois looked down at the lifeless corpse of Marco with sad eyes. Her face was filled with sorrow as she stood transfixed over him.

  “It’s done, I’ll never have to wake up to him again. I can move on.”

  “Good we need to leave, and quickly. Abner has a fight to get to,” Barros said.

  With Barros by their side, Abner and Lois were kept out of harm’s way. The Hunter pushed through the crowd with a demeanor of a man double his size. Once in the pits, Abner checked his gear again, ensuring his armor was tight enough and his weapons were ready. The pits were full with every fighter left standing from the brutal onslaught of the first day.

  Glancing around Abner could see each fighter carrying a different weapon, typically from their country of origin. He saw Sword Lords like himself, yet several years his senior, with their Aksahs woven into their hair. The Tyrainians carried no shields while the only Saurian in sight carried a helmet under his arm.

  “You’ve got a
mixed bunch this year, lad,” Barros said. “Best keep your head down and play smart.”

  Abner eyed one of the remaining Alilletians, wearing part of a ribcage as an arm guard. “Malvrok boasted about winning this tournament once. I’m sure I can win.”

  “You honor him and his family,” Barros said.

  “Lois and I considered ourselves his family. I’m doing this for us as much as him,” Abner said. “Watch my back if you can.”

  “Of course,” Barros said, patting his son on the shoulder. “Lois, follow me.”

  “Just a second, Hunter,” she said.

  “Wishing me good luck?” Abner asked.

  “No,” she said pulling him close.

  Abner could see every detail of her face, her green eyes lit up in a fiery passion as she stared into his. Without saying another word, Lois pressed her lips to his, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck. Abner felt a surge from within and pressed back hard against her, his tongue moving slowly, with an awkward feel to it.

  The smell of her hair and smooth skin was enough to drive the young warrior insane, yet he wrapped an arm around the small of her back, drawing her closer. With Lois in his grasp, the rest of the world ceased to exist for the single solitary moment. They only broke apart when Barros loudly cleared his throat.

  “Good luck, Ab.” She giggled and turned on her heel to follow the Hunter into the stands.

  10

  The Labyrinth

  “Malvrok Toldar, stand forward!”

  The marshal scowled at Abner as the boy pushed through the crowd at the last second answering to Malvrok’s name. With a motion, the marshal gestured for Abner to take his position by the gate that led onto the arena floor. A few seconds later and the clanging sound of metal on metal signaled the gate rising.