“Well, Mr. Moore,” he said. “I’ve never met a beast hunter before. It seems like it would be terribly dangerous work. Why did you take up the trade?”
Keltin relaxed slightly, feeling more at ease with the reverend than some of the other, more distinguished guests.
“I learned it from my father. The Moores have been beast hunters for four generations. I’m proud to carry on the tradition.”
“Does your father still hunt?”
Keltin fell silent. Mary reached over and placed a hand on his arm.
“Our father passed away some time ago,” she said.
Father Rafferty smiled gently. “I’m sorry for your loss. You must miss him.”
“He was clearly a good man, if his children are any indication,” said Mrs. Whitt.
Keltin glanced at Mrs. Whitt and received a kind smile in return. Perhaps she was merely being a good hostess, but Keltin was suddenly very grateful that Mary had found such excellent people as her employers. The conversation moved on, and it wasn’t until they were midway through the next course of stuffed pheasant and spiced potatoes that Keltin was roused from his thoughts by Mr. Whitt. The conversation at the head of the table had shifted from hunting to investing in mining operations, and the subject of the discovery of gold in Drutchland had been brought up.
“You were recently in Drutchland, weren’t you, Mr. Moore? Were you able to observe much of the goings-on among the mining companies there?”
Keltin swallowed his mouthful of potatoes and nodded. “I worked for several of them while I was in Lost Trap, though I couldn’t say much of the way they conducted their business. I was... occupied.”
Keltin’s host gave him a broad smile and a wink. “I’m sure you were. Well, why don’t you tell us a little of your adventures while there? I think we’ve all been patient enough, but I must insist on you telling us something before the meal is over. I’m sure we’d all be fascinated.”
Feeling eyes on him from all sides, Keltin wished he could politely refuse, or better yet, he wished that his apprentice Jaylocke was with him. As a Weycliff wayfarer, Jaylocke had lived his entire life on the road, entertaining all sorts of audiences across the continent. It was Jaylocke that typically took up the telling of the tale of any of their adventures together, which often resulted in better business for the both of them. Still, Keltin had heard Jaylocke’s version of their adventures in the boomtown of Lost Trap enough times that he was able to frame the events in a fairly interesting sequence. It also helped that both Mr. Whitt and Father Rafferty proved to be very attentive audience members, each asking questions and giving every indication that they were on the edge of their seats listening to his tale. Keltin slowly found himself relaxing a little in the uncomfortable role of a storyteller, and while he never dared to embellish any details of the tale, he found himself taking some genuine pleasure in describing the hair-raising final hunt for the deadly Ghost of Lost Trap.
“Marvelous!” said Mr. Whitt as Keltin finished his account. “I’m sure no-one else could have accomplished such feats as you did. And it sounds like you were properly rewarded for your efforts. I wonder, have you given any thought as to how you will spend your newfound wealth? You don’t strike me as the sort to throw it away on drink and frivolity.”
“No sir. Actually, I haven’t spent very much of the money yet, aside from giving my regular donation to the church.”
“I’m sure you’ll be blessed for your generosity,” said Father Rafferty.
Keltin gave the churchman a small smile. “In my business, there’s no point in taking needless risks.”
“Still,” said Mr. Whitt, “I’m sure you were left with a pretty pile of pence after your oblations. Have you considered investing your money? I have any number of ventures right now that would welcome a junior investor.”
Keltin was caught completely off guard. He glanced quickly in Mary’s direction, but her stunned expression seemed to match his own surprise. Keltin tried to think over all the possible ramifications of becoming a business partner of Mary’s employer. After a moment, he took a breath and turned back to Mr. Whitt.
“I appreciate the offer, sir, but I’ve already made plans with several of my fellow hunters. We intend to use our combined money to start a beast hunting company.”
Keltin was relieved to see that Mr. Whitt didn’t seem offended by the refusal, though he did arch an eyebrow in curiosity.
“That’s interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a venture quite like that. How do you plan to conduct your business?”
“I haven’t had a chance yet to decide on a lot of the particulars, as I’ve been on the road for some time. But my friends are coming to Maplewood to exchange the bulk of our gold for Riltvin jeva. Once that’s done, we’ll set up shop somewhere.”
“Where do you think you’ll base your business?”
“I honestly hadn’t really considered that yet.”
“May I make a suggestion?” said Mr. Destov. “You may want to choose a large city. There’s a larger customer base that way, and you can make your business more easily accessible.”
“But there aren’t any beasts in the cities.”
“I appreciate your concern,” said Mr. Whitt. “But I think in this instance it would be better to make yourself easy to find for your potential clients. Let them come to you. Or, at least have a place that they can leave word that they want you to contact them.”
“I suppose you’re right,” said Keltin. “Maybe I’ll look into a larger city then.”
“May I suggest Collinsworth?” said Mr. Destov. “Many of my duties take me there, and it seems to me to be a growing city of commerce. It’s also fairly well connected to the surrounding territory by their fine railroad system. It’s also closer to the hill country and the northern territories, not to mention the nations beyond Riltvin.”
“Yes. I’ll look into it. Thank you both for your insight. I fear that I’m a terrible novice when it comes to this sort of thing.”
Mr Whitt grinned. “Don’t bother yourself about it. This is our trade, just as hunting beasts is yours. There’s no shame in seeking out the expertise of someone with experience.”
The rest of the dinner conversation moved away from Keltin’s plans, and he gratefully lost himself in the final courses and dessert, trying not to show that he noticed all of the little looks that Garsun and Mary kept giving each other. At last the meal ended and the dinner group began to break up. Mary had to leave early to put the children to bed, and Reverend Rafferty excused himself to head home. Keltin was invited to join the others for cards and drinks in the parlor, but he turned them down, still feeling out of place despite the polite company. Returning to his room, he found that his pack and gear had been unpacked for him and his few clothes had been laundered. Only his tattered coat had been left untouched.
Looking at the bed, Keltin realized that despite being tired, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep just yet. He took up a fine lantern from his bedside, and went in search of the gardens again. The evening air had cooled the summer heat, and a bright moon shone on the distant lake. Keltin sat in one of the rattan chairs and took a deep breath of a passing evening breeze. This felt infinitely more comfortable than the Whitt’s mansion. He couldn’t imagine living in such wealth. Although, he reminded himself, he had more money now than he ever had before in his life.
It occurred to Keltin that the entirety of his adult life had been spent in a constant scrabble to make ends meet. Whether it was sending money to support his mother and sister or trying to make his monthly payments to Mrs. Galloway, so much of his time had been caught up in worrying about where he would get his money and where it needed to go. But that wasn’t an issue anymore. His mother was staying with her brother’s family, and Mary’s every need was seen to by the Whitts. Keltin felt a sudden, unexpected pang within him. He was finally in a position to easily take care of those that he cared for most, and they didn’t need him.
He breathed a
long sigh, and started to rise from his chair when he heard the slight creak of hinges behind him. Turning towards the house, he was surprised to see Isaac Garsun walking towards him. Keltin stood up as Mr. Whitt’s secretary approached him.
“’Evening, Mr. Garsun. Something you need?”
“Oh! No, Mr. Moore. Please, call me Isaac. I was hoping to talk with you, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. And you can call me Keltin.”
“Ah... thank you.”
Keltin sat back in his chair as Isaac took a seat next to him. The young man stared at the table for a moment, clearly struggling to put voice to the words in his mind. Keltin waited, forcing himself not to guess what might be coming.
“Mr— Ah, Keltin, I wonder if Mary has mentioned me very much in her letters to you?”
“Some.”
Isaac cleared his throat and plunged ahead.
“You should know that I care deeply for her. She’s a very special girl. Of course, you’d know that, but I... well, Mary means a great deal to me.”
He glanced up, but Keltin didn’t reply as he watched the young man and waited for him to continue.
“Keltin, you should know that your sister and I have been courting, somewhat, of a fashion. It’s hard to do very much in our current positions, but there it is. I wanted you to know, as her brother. I didn’t want you to think we were keeping it a secret from you.”
Keltin nodded slowly.
“I appreciate that. And you are right, Mary is very special.”
“Yes.” Isaac showed no signs of relaxing as he continued. “The thing is, I know that your father is gone, but I would like to do everything as properly as I can. Though it’s still a little early, I’m not sure when I may again have the opportunity to speak with you face to face.” Isaac took a shaky breath. “Keltin, I’d like to ask your permission to ask for your sister’s hand.”
Keltin was silent. He thought of his little sister in pigtails, running through the woods behind their home and playing with her overly-serious big brother. He thought of his father, wise and friendly, always certain of what to say and do. It should have been him sitting here, having this conversation. Suddenly Keltin missed his father with an intensity that he hadn’t felt in years. Steeling himself, he looked into Isaac’s uncertain eyes.
“You need to understand something, Isaac. Mary is my only sister. She means more to me than you’ll ever know. I’ve protected her and taken care of her as best I could ever since our father died. I don’t know you, but I trust my sister’s judgement. If she thinks that you are worthy of her time, it’s not my place to say otherwise.”
Isaac seemed to wilt with relief. “Thank you, I—”
Keltin held up his hand and Isaac froze.
“There’s one more thing I want to say,” said Keltin. “You don’t know me except for what my sister might have told you. So let me tell you this about me. I don’t like bullies, and I’ve tried hard to keep from being one myself. I’m a beast hunter for a number of reasons, not the least of which is a deep belief that it’s my duty to protect those that need protecting. My father, my uncles, my grandfather... my family taught me that. I’m not going to threaten you like a boastful, blustering older brother trying to make himself feel big and important. I’m only going to tell you the truth. If any man ever hurt my sister, I would come for him. No matter where I was, no matter how he might hide or try to make himself ready for me, I would come for him. Do you understand?”
Isaac looked away a moment, took a deep breath, then met Keltin’s gaze. Looking into the young man’s eyes by the flickering light of the lantern, Keltin was surprised to see a spark of strength and determination that hadn’t been there before.
“I understand, but what you’ve told me doesn’t change how I feel about her. All I can do is swear to you that I will never hurt her, and I will do my best to take care of her for the rest of my life.”
Keltin looked into Isaac’s eyes for a long moment before nodding.
“I believe you. All right, you have my permission, for what it’s worth.”
Isaac reached out a hand to Keltin. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Keltin shook his hand and arched an eyebrow. “Keep in mind though, you may have my permission, but it’s really up to Mary.”
Isaac nodded and risked a smile.
“I know. I think I may be even more scared to talk to her than to you.”
Keltin smiled back. “That’s good. I’ll wish you luck then.”
“Thank you, Keltin. And I wish you luck in Collinsworth.”
“Thank you. Good night, Isaac.”
“Good night, Keltin.”
The young man rose and left. Watching Isaac go, Keltin had a sudden, painful realization. Nervous as he may have been, the young man was far braver than Keltin was. Keltin might have stared down a charging beast dozens of times, but Isaac had faced a total stranger, possibly a dangerous stranger, and bared his soul to him. An image of Elaine forced itself into his thoughts, and Keltin nodded grimly. Yes, timid Isaac Garsun was much braver than Keltin Moore had ever been.
Chapter 2 – Putting Down Roots
Keltin stared into the rat’s beady black eyes. The black-furred rodent was more than a hand’s length long without its ropey tail. It returned Keltin’s gaze boldly for a moment before turning and slipping back through a hole in the wall. Keltin shook his head. Now he understood why they had gotten the office space so cheaply. The bakery next door seemed to draw rats from all over Collinsworth, if not all of Riltvin. Keltin was sure there was at least one nest, maybe more, stashed away in the walls. His sharpened hunter’s ears seemed to twitch every time he heard their scuttling feet or scratching teeth. Perhaps it had been a mistake to decide to use the upstairs portion as a living area.
Still, the space was otherwise well-suited for their needs. The downstairs had previously been used by a bookkeeper’s firm, with a spacious receiving area and several frosted windows to allow some natural light in. Beyond the receiving area there were two offices and a third room that had been used for storing ledgers. Keltin had claimed one office for his own use, and planned to use the storage room for the storing and maintaining of their weapons and gear. He still didn’t know what he would use the second office for.
Bor’ve’tai appeared in the doorway to Keltin’s office, a broom in his large, ape-like hands.
“I’ve finished sweeping the reception area,” said the dignified Loopi in a rich bass voice. “Do you need any sweeping in here?”
“I already did it.”
Bor’ve’tai nodded, setting the broom aside and entering the room to sit in the chair opposite the barren desk. Keltin looked over the long expanse of empty wood between them and shook his head.
“I almost wish that they hadn’t included these desks in the deal,” he said. “I feel silly with nothing on it.”
“What would you put on it?”
“I don’t know. Jaylocke suggested a rifle, or perhaps the mounted head of a coiling creeper.”
“That sounds like something he would suggest.”
“I just saw another rat.”
Bor’ve’tai frowned.
“We’ll have to get rid of them before we can open for business. Shall I board up their holes?”
“At some point. But unless we kill them off they’ll only chew new ones.”
The bell at the front door jingled. Keltin and Bor’ve’tai got up and entered the reception area to find Jaylocke with three steaming lamb pies balanced in his hands and a wide grin on his face.
“There’s a definite advantage to setting up shop so close to a bakery,” he said. “Lunch is served.”
“I don’t know how I feel about eating goods from a business that has a rat problem,” said Bor’ve’tai.
Jaylocke shrugged. “We’ve had worse on the road.”
“Not by choice.”
“I’m sure it’s fine,” said Keltin, taking one of the pies. “Besides, I was thinking of goin
g by the Claxons’ shop and seeing if they sells any traps.”
“Oh?” said Jaylocke. “Are we converting to trap hunting rather than stalking?”
“You use the right method for the right quarry. Besides, if we shot a rat with any of our guns, we’d blow a hole through the little monster and a few walls behind it. No need antagonizing our landlord with more property damage.”
“Fair enough, but we have bigger concerns than rats that we should discuss.”
“I know... I know...”
“We can’t have a business without a name for it.”
Keltin heaved a sigh and set his pie down. “I’m no good at this sort of thing. If we have to have a name, why don’t we just have something sensible? I still think ‘The North Riltvin Beast Hunting Company’ sounded find.”
“It did, it sounded fine. And that’s the problem. We need something that will stop people in their tracks. Something that shows just how amazing our company is. Something like ‘The Guild of Nightmare Slayers’.”
Keltin made a face in between bites of his lunch.
“I don’t like the idea of calling ourselves a guild. Not after Drutchland. Besides, nightmare slayers sounds too ostentatious, and doesn’t really describe what we do.”
“Well we have to name the company something, Keltin.”
“What about ‘The Beast Hunter’?” said Bor’ve’tai.
Keltin turned to him.
“’The Beast Hunter’? But there are three of us.”
“True, but you’re the one with the reputation. Think about it. People have always come to you, seen you as the leader, the expert, the authority figure. To them, you are the Beast Hunter.”
“I think you’re on to something there,” said Jaylocke with a growing grin. “It’s got a nice, stoic sound to it. Like Keltin’s a lone, dangerous man that only lives to kill monsters.”
Dangerous Territory Page 3
