Yull blew out his cheeks and nodded.
“Well, I suppose that’s your duty, and I’m not your foreman. Still, I don’t like having you both gone at the same time. I’d hoped that having two of you here would mean that one of you would always be nearby. After all, we’ve got the majority of Mr. Whitt’s property right here.”
“We may do that once we’ve had a chance to inspect all of the farms, but for now, I’d like to see what sort of job we have ahead of us.”
“I suppose I’ll just have to hope that nothing happens to one of my men while you’re off wandering the countryside.”
Yull walked off in the direction of the fields without a word of farewell. Keltin watched him go without taking any offense at the foreman’s words. He didn’t envy the man having to worry about the constant threat of beasts while trying to do a job that was hard enough on its own. Soon, Ross and Kuff emerged from the front door of the farmhouse. In his hands, Ross held an impressive scattergun, while on his hip he had what looked like a service revolver, possibly from the Krendarian military. Kuff was wearing a studded collar to protect his vulnerable throat and seemed eager to get going.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” said the hound’s owner.
“It’s all right. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes. Let’s.”
They left the farm and made their way westward, following the roads when possible and crossing fields and stands of trees when it wasn’t. Keltin took a deep breath of the cool air. After weeks cooped up in the company office and traveling through Riltvin and Krendaria, it felt good to finally be out on a hunt again. Here, he knew what was expected of him and felt confident that he would deliver when needed. While he never could forget about the needs of the Destovs or his family and friends, for the moment all those worries were set aside for more immediate concerns. Even the threat of danger was welcome in a way. It forced him to concentrate on the moment, and leave worrying about the future for some other time.
They’d traveled in silence for half an hour when Ross struck up a conversation.
“Prefer a rifle for hunting, eh?” he said, careful to keep his voice soft and low.
Keltin nodded. “My uncle was a gunsmith as well as a beast hunter. He made this rifle for me.”
“I suppose it would be useful in the open, but with these close trees, I would have thought you’d prefer something more like this.” Ross lifted his scattergun for emphasis.
Keltin shrugged. “I prefer precision shooting to blasting great gaping holes in my quarry. It’s the way my family has always hunted.”
“And is precision shooting the reason you carry that?”
Ross pointed to the hand cannon on Keltin’s hip.
“That’s an experiment. I’m friends with a gunsmith and his family. He wanted me to try it out.”
“Looks like it would kick like a mule.”
Keltin shrugged. “It does.”
They continued on, always moving cautiously and careful not to make too much noise or draw attention to themselves. Each stir of leaves caused all three of them to pause, listening and watching. Sometimes they spied the bird or rabbit that had caused the sound. Other times, they waited and watched for several minutes before moving cautiously in the direction of the sound, usually only to find that there was nothing there.
Keltin remembered when he had first started training Jaylocke and how surprised the wayfarer had been to learn that most of what passed for beast hunting was silently investigating rustles of wind and the scampering of small woodland creatures. Keltin likened it to fishing, full of long periods of monotony occasionally punctuated by heart-pounding excitement. Except that hunting beasts was more than just a matter of trying to hunt down his prey. Often, it also included avoiding becoming prey yourself.
After one particularly long wait after a soft crash in the brush, Ross breathed a whispered command to Kuff.
“Poe-See,” he said. “Come Kuff.”
The hound didn’t budge, continuing to stare at the space where a small bird had long since flown away. Ross had looked at the bush once more, as if debating whether the hound saw something he didn’t. After a pause, he turned back to Kuff and gave the command again, more firmly this time. The hound continued to hesitate, until a third, sharp command was given, and he finally turned to follow his master. Keltin had kept most of his attention on the bush throughout the episode, trying to see if there was anything he himself had missed. Eventually, he decided that he had been right, soon finding that his assumption was correct when he circled the bush and found that there had been nothing at all inside it.
It concerned Keltin that the hound had forced him to second-guess himself. Of course, it was dangerous to become too comfortable on a hunt. Careless beast hunters were soon dead hunters. But jumping at shadows had its own risks. Over time the senses became dull and overtaxed. Fatigue came more quickly as well, and foolish errors became easier and more frequent. It seemed as if Ross had read these thoughts in Keltin’s expression as they continued on.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Kuff is still in training. If I’d had the choice, I would have waited another season before bringing him on a hunt. But he’s the only hound I have.”
“I understand," said Keltin. They continued on for a few minutes as a thought occurred to him. “What’s it like, hunting with a fully trained hound? Captain Tallow and the rest of you trainers always kept to yourselves, so I never really saw your hounds in action.”
Ross sighed and looked at Kuff. “A fully trained hound is like a tool in its master’s hand. It goes, comes, attacks, turns, leads, tracks... It’s like having a trusted old gun that hears the way you breathe, reads the way you smell. A great hound can almost read your thoughts and will do anything you tell it to... or die trying.”
Ross cleared his throat, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his fist and cursing quietly under his breath. Keltin attempted to steer the conversation elsewhere.
“If we spot a beast, how should we proceed? I don’t want to get in the way of you two, or to teach Kuff any bad habits.”
“I appreciate that,” said Ross, shaking himself from his reverie. “But Kuff needs to learn how to be around other hunters, whether they’re people or hounds. Right now, he knows two commands for hunting: attack and turn. If I tell him to attack, he’ll fight until he can’t fight anymore. If I tell him to turn a beast, he’ll chase and harry it, doing his best to drive it back towards me and my scattergun. As far as what you can do, if I give him the signal to turn, be ready to shoot the boil as it comes towards us. If I give him the signal to attack, hold your fire, even if you think you have a clear shot. Don’t be offended. I remember the stories about your marksmanship from the campaign, but you’ll forgive me, he is my hound.”
“I understand, but what if the fight is going poorly for him?”
Ross took a deep breath. “There’s a command for him to back down, but Kuff is still learning it. If we encounter a beast that’s a little easier to manage, I may use the encounter as a chance to help him practice it.”
“What are the commands for attack and turn, just so I know what you’re telling him to do?”
“Attack is Daag. Turn is Walloo. Stand down is Al-Hah.”
“I heard you use another one earlier. What was it?”
“Poe-see? That’s come. We’re still working on that too.” Ross hesitated before continuing. “There’s one other thing. If I feel that Kuff isn’t ready for a particular beast, or if it’s too dangerous for him...”
“I’ll take care of it. Just keep him back.”
Ross visibly relaxed. “Thank you. I will.”
The rest of the day passed with little conversation as Keltin and Kuff continued to pause and check each stray sound or flash of movement before continuing on. They also stopped and introduced themselves to the men working the fields of several farms that were not owned by Mr. Whitt and his partners. Keltin was glad to find that the men they encountered all seemed grateful
to see them, realizing that any beast hunter in the neighborhood was a good thing. By mid-afternoon, Ross pointed to a distant field of tall maize.
“That’s one of Mr. Whitt’s fields. We’re getting close to the Parson Farm.”
They passed by the maize and continued on to a field of pumpkins nearly fully orange and ready for harvest. Keltin looked out over the field and noticed something stir on the far end. He stopped, pulling the brim of his hat low to shield his eyes from the gray sky above. He saw it again. Something was lurking just along the tree line. Keltin moved carefully to the fence surrounding the field of gourds, setting his pack and the Ripper down and bracing his rifle on top of the fence. Ross drew close to him to whisper in his ear.
“What do you see?” he asked.
“Not sure. It’s still in the trees on the far side. Keep Kuff close, all right? I don’t want him to scare it off.”
Ross nodded, whispering a command to the hound. Kuff dutifully laid down and placed his head between his paws, looking up at his master with inquisitive eyes. Keltin kept his focus across the field, watching the telltale signs of movement among the densely growing trees and bushes. Suddenly he spied a creature that he was all-too familiar with from the year before. A stork-legged beast emerged from the foliage. The creature stalked forward carefully, its bald, vulture-like head twisting from side to side, its beady eyes searching for potential prey.
Keltin advanced the revolver chamber of his rifle to a Capshire Shatter Round. While he preferred taking down this particular monster by firing the explosive round into the beast’s spindly neck, making the shot from the other side of a field was unlikely at best. Instead, he aimed for its slender body, one third of the way down the trunk, dead center of the boil’s lungs. He breathed out, breathed in, and fired.
The gunshot shattered the stillness around them. The beast was knocked completely off its feet, thrashing in the dirt for a moment before it managed to struggle back to its spindly legs and stumble off into the trees. Keltin turned to see Ross nodding in admiration of the shot. Keltin allowed himself the ghost of a smile.
“Can’t do that with a scattergun,” he said.
Ross gave a good-natured chuckle. “Maybe not, but I’ve got another weapon I can use.” He turned to Kuff, who had leapt to his feet at the sound of the gunshot. The hound stared in the direction the beast had fled, his body tensed like a spring just waiting to be sprung.
“Daag Kuff! Daag!”
The hound leapt into the air, flying over the five-foot wooden fence in a single bound and bolting over the pumpkins at a blistering sprint, barking all the way. Keltin and Ross took off after him, following the sound of the barking as the hound disappeared among the trees. They had just reached the far side of the field when the timbre of the barks changed to a higher, more excited yelp. Then they went silent.
“He’s got it now,” said Ross, hurrying forward. “This way!”
They hurried through the dense brush, following the direction of the last barks they had heard. Soon Keltin heard another sound. Violent rustling, savage growls, and panicked hissing. Chasing down the sound, they finally emerged into a small clearing and found where the hound had run down the stork-legged beast. Kuff had leapt up onto the fleeing creature, clamping his massive jaws around its long neck. His powerful muscles quivered as he shook the beast, whipping its head and body around savagely. The beast’s legs kicked and twitched even as its dead black eyes stared at the hunters. Ross watched Kuff for a moment before shouting at him in a firm voice.
“Al-hah!”
It took Kuff a moment to register the command, but eventually he released the beast and stepped back, leaving the corpse to twitch and spasm for another half-minute before coming to its final rest. Kuff looked up at Ross with a canine grin, his long fangs glistening red. Ross immediately went to his hound, praising him loudly and scratching behind his long, pointed ears. Keltin meanwhile went to the still form of the beast. He looked down at it as images nearly a year old came rushing back to him.
“Bring back some memories?” asked Ross.
Keltin nodded. “I lost a man to one of these boils on my first patrol. It was one of the reasons I spoke out against Baron Rumsfeld’s use of military tactics to hunt beasts.”
“I remember hearing about that from Captain Tallow. You likely saved a lot of hunters’ lives by doing that.”
Keltin shook his head. “Maybe. It was too late for Ru, and his friend Weedon never recovered. In the end, I couldn’t help either one of them.”
Ross didn’t answer. Keltin looked up to see the hound trainer looking at him with a thoughtful expression.
“Come on,” he said after a moment. “The foreman of this farm likely won’t be thrilled to know that we found a beast in one of his fields, but at least we can tell him he won’t have to worry about it anymore.”
Chapter 6 – A New Companion
“I must be getting old,” said Ross as they slowly made their way down the road winding its way between the fields. “I find myself looking forward more and more to a warm meal and bed every day.”
“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying some creature comforts. You’d be a fool to prefer sleeping out in the open when beasts are about.”
Ross gave him a predatory grin. “Well, there are fewer about now, aren’t there?”
Keltin nodded absently. They’d made a complete patrol of Mr. Whitt’s farms and managed to find and kill a serpent stag along with the stork-legged beast they’d brought down on the first day. Not a bad start to the job. And certainly much easier than it had been a year ago.
Autumn had come like the breaking of dawn. At first, the change had come in subtle hints. A slight nip in the air. An occasional golden leaf among a sea of green. Then suddenly it seemed like they had woken up to find the sounds, sights, and smells of fall all around them. The heady scent of ripened crops was everywhere, and already the foremen had their workers beginning the final labors of harvesting, storing, and processing for shipping. Nearby, Keltin could see a team of men armed with spades, busily digging up plump potatoes to be shaken off, cut, and deposited in a waiting wagon. He thought he saw Yull among them, but couldn’t be sure at the distance. He allowed himself a small smile. For the moment, things seemed to be going well all around.
Soon the farmhouse was in sight, and Keltin spied the rustle of curtains at a top-floor window.
“That’ll be Wendi,” said Ross with a smile. “No doubt she’s been watching for us since this morning.”
But it wasn’t Wendi who met them at the door. Kuff gave a low growl as Marius Harper stepped outside and approached them with a pleasant smile.
“Hello again, Mr. Moore! Surprised to see me?”
Keltin blinked, then smiled and shook the newspaperman’s hand.
“I certainly am. I didn’t think we’d meet again until we were both back in Collinsworth. Weren’t you going to stay in Carvalen to write a story about conditions in the capital?”
“Oh, I’ve already written two pieces about the capital. One documenting the state of the government, and another representing the plight of the common man on the street. Now I’m following up with a new piece focusing on what’s being done to try to avoid the same catastrophe that befell this poor nation just one year ago. I had the idea that our readers would likely be interested to hear the current state of affairs in Dhlama Province. Luckily, I already knew where Mr. Whitt’s offices in town were thanks to you, and I was able to gain permission to come up here to record my observations.”
“I’m surprised that Mr. Whitt’s partners were willing to agree to that.”
“It did take a little coaxing, but I managed to convince them that a favorable article in a prominent paper would likely garner some good publicity. Show them in a light that makes them look like saviors helping out the poor populace, rather than shrewd businessmen taking advantage of other people’s misfortunes.”
“But is that true?”
Harper shrugged. “I w
on’t know until I see where the crops end up being sold... and at what price.”
“They may not be happy with you if you don’t write the favorable piece you promised.”
“I never promised anything. I only suggested the benefits of a positive article, if that’s what I end up writing.”
Keltin nodded, unsure how he felt about the easy duplicity of the Collinsworth Gazette reporter.
Wendi appeared in the doorway behind Harper. Her subdued features belied her relief upon seeing Ross and Kuff safely returned. She focused on the large hound, giving him a scratch between his long, pointed ears.
“Hello Kuff! Did you bring down a beast while you were away?”
“He gave a good accounting for himself,” said Ross. “We’ll tell you about it over dinner, if it’s ready.”
“It is. Come on inside and wash up, and I’ll get it on the table. Oh, and Mr. Moore, a letter came for you while you were away. I left it on your bed.”
Keltin took the stairs two-at-a-time and hurried into his room. He didn’t recognized the handwriting on the envelope and turned it over to find the sending address. The letter had come from the office of The Beast Hunter with Jaylocke’s name prominently displayed. He tore open the envelope and began to read.
Dear Keltin,
Well, this is a fine “Welcome home!” No sooner do we return, brave slayers of the mythical smoke beast, when what are we met with? No piping hot dinner or turned-down sheets. Just a note on the desk saying you’re off on an adventure and forgot to take along your good-humor and level-thinking. I’ll let you sort out which of us is which.
That aside, I do wish it would have been possible to come with you on this one. I realize that you had to leave posthaste, and I’m not worried about you managing all those beasts by yourself. It’s the other reason that you’re there that concerns me. If you do have to go north to fetch Elaine and her family, be extra cautious. There are more dangers than beasts in Malpin. Word is that the Heterack Empowerment is turning the place into something of a military-state. My advice? If you must go there, get in, get out without being seen if you can, and if someone in a uniform tries to stop you, smile and wave, then shoot them dead if they twitch. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but when defending those you care about (and perhaps love) there are some scruples that are worth setting aside temporarily.
Dangerous Territory Page 8
