BREAKER: MONSTER TAMER BOOK ONE

by Hooke, Isaac

  Malem shook his head. “I don’t have friends among the Tempests. I rescued Bounder from Laman.” That was a city on the southern border, next to the Tempest lands. “He was up for auction.”

  “And you paid full price?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

  “Not exactly,” he said. “I may have convinced Bounder to break free of his binds…”

  “I see.”

  “So, I never actually visited the Tempest lands,” Malem continued. “They don’t welcome foreigners, in case you hadn’t heard.”

  “I heard,” Abigail said. “Which is why I mentioned it would be a boon if you had friends there.”

  He smiled. “I’ll never get over how you talk. A boon. Who says that?”

  She raised her nose slightly. “The educated?”

  He smirked. “Or the conceited…”

  She sniffed and looked away.

  Bounder abruptly dashed, splashing, into the water. He plunged his head into the river and when it emerged a moment later, he held a flapping fish.

  Abigail stared at Bounder in admiration. “Your pets catch food for you, too…”

  “It’s not for me,” Malem said.

  Bounder swallowed the squirming fish in two gulps and returned to shore.

  On a nearby branch, Felipe was eating the small nuts he had raided from a squirrel’s store. The monkey tossed one to Malem, who cracked open the shell with his teeth, and then swallowed the seeds.

  “That was for you…” Abigail said.

  He shrugged. “Sometimes they feed me, when it suits them.”

  “But you could force them, if you wanted,” she said.

  “I could,” he said. “But that’s not how I roll. They’re not just pets to me, they’re friends. A little unruly and bratty at times, but still friends. I’ll control them when I have to, usually in a fight, but otherwise I let them do what they like. They stay with me not because I command it, but because they want it. That’s the kind of loyalty I prefer. Not the forced kind a king imposes on his subjects, or a general his army.”

  “But not all kings force their will on their subjects, nor generals their armies,” she told him. “In fact, the best lead as you do. By loyalty. Otherwise, as soon as the merest hint of defeat comes upon an army, its men will run.”

  “To ensure the loyalty of men, a big treasury helps as well,” he said.

  She grinned. “That it does.”

  He looked at her, and couldn’t help the words that bubbled to his lips next. “Or a big pair of tits.”

  She gave him an exasperated expression and looked away. “Why do I even try?”

  They were on the road again a short while later. It was good to feel the press of her against his back. He continually swept the immediate area with his beast sense so that he was always aware of the animals around them.

  The road proved uncharacteristically empty. When they were halfway to the next village—by his reckoning—he understood why.

  He swerved Bounder off the road and into the trees.

  “What is it?” Abigail asked.

  He kept going until he was well away, then dismounted and took cover behind a large oak.

  “Oraks,” Malem said.

  “You sensed them?” she asked in disbelief.

  He nodded.

  “Like I said, no ordinary Breaker,” she commented.

  “I’ve met oraks before in my travels, but never this far east,” Malem said. “Why are they here? And don’t tell me the war has pushed them here out of starvation.”

  “No,” she said. “It’s a hunting party of some kind.”

  “And who might they be hunting for?” he said, giving her a suspicious look.

  She didn’t answer.

  He heard distant footfalls—the tramp of heavy boots—and ducked lower, mentally commanding his animals to keep quiet. He could sense the baleful presence of the oraks the entire time.

  When the creatures were closer, he peered past the edge of the tree.

  He spotted the rows of bronze pikes sticking up above the foliage that lined the road as the oraks marched. In those places where the foliage was sparser, he could see the creatures themselves. They were humanoid in shape, and armored in bronze mail, their chest plates lacquered with the symbol of a fist and shield. Beneath their horned helmets, their green, twisted faces stared out upon the world. Their eyes were oval, similar to a man’s, except the sclera were green. Their brows were thick, protruding like their foreheads. They had noses that were all nostrils, like a pig’s, with large upper canines curving down from their mouths, reaching under their chins.

  “They’re on foot,” he said softly.

  Abigail was peering past the opposite side of the tree. “Not all of them.”

  Near the center of the group, two oraks rode sickly looking horses whose pale bodies were splotched with dark spiderweb veins. The two oraks were robed, one in red, the other blue, and wore their hoods raised, covering much of their faces. Malem could see red beards hanging from their faces, beards that were streaked with white. Bone necklaces hung from their necks. With his sensitive ears he could hear the slight jangle those bones produced.

  “Orak mages…” she said.

  He nodded. “They can’t have been traveling the main road for long. Battalions would have been dispatched from the Midweald army outposts to deal with them.”

  She bobbed her chin. “They would have taken to the road only recently. Probably traveled through the forest to get here.”

  One of the mages abruptly halted his steed and raised a fist. The entire party stopped. The orak scanned the trees around it.

  Malem ducked lower, pulling from view.

  The orak grunted something in that guttural language of theirs, and then Malem heard the snapping of twigs as something approached through the undergrowth. Multiple somethings actually, judging from the sounds.

  Malem sensed that three of them were approaching, spread out. They would pass close to his position, but if he and the others remained down, there was a good chance the oraks wouldn’t see them.

  He glanced at Abigail, who was huddling next to Bounder beside him. He very slowly, very carefully drew his sword, and she nodded, rubbing her hands together, obviously getting ready to use that fire of hers. Inside his collar, Felipe ducked lower, no doubt covering its eyes with its hands.

  The crunching of leaves and foliage underfoot had reached the trunk, coming from just beside Malem. And then it stopped.

  He heard several long inhales as if the orak there was sniffing. He drew his sword arm backward, preparing to strike.

  The rustling started anew; he waited for several moments, but when no orak appeared, he realized the creature was retreating. His beast sense told him the other two were as well.

  He slumped in relief, and flicked his fingers in a “they’re going” gesture to Abigail, who closed her eyes and flopped against the trunk.

  Malem peeked past the trunk; the three oraks resumed their previous positions in the formation, and the war party continued on its way.

  When he could no longer hear the tramp of those armored feet, he glanced at Abigail. “What sort of errand are you on again?”

  She remained silent.

  Felipe shifted, then scrambled free of his collar and leaped to the ground before Bounder. The little monkey then raised its tail and promptly dropped three clumps of feces. Directly in front of Bounder’s snout.

  The iguanid squealed in outrage and retreated several paces, loudly stirring up the undergrowth.

  “Shh!” Malem commanded Bounder, and the scolded iguanid remained still. Malem returned his attention to Abigail. “You expect me to take the money and shut up, is that it? I would have, if the price was right. But my life is worth more than two hundred drachmae. You don’t tell me why they’re hunting you, then I’m done.”

  “They might not actually be hunting me,” she said.

  Felipe made a cackling sound like a mocking laugh, pointed at her, and rais
ed its tail to drop two more clumps of feces.

  “I agree,” Malem said. “That’s horseshit. Well, monkey shit, if you want to get technical.”

  She sighed. “I’m a messenger.”

  “A messenger?” he said.

  “Yes,” she told him. “I’m an advisor to King Goldenthall, who rules the territory of Mulhadden, southeast of the Midweald. His armies are part of the Alliance, battling the threat of Vorgon in the west.”

  He regarded her suspiciously. “Okay… and?”

  “I’m to bring a very important message to Mount Ademan,” she said. “A message that could potentially draw the Metal Dragons into the war.”

  “I wasn’t aware that there were any dragons in Mount Ademan,” Malem said.

  “Not many southerners are,” she told him.

  He’d never actually traveled that far north, so he supposed it was possible. “I don’t know much about dragons, but what I do know is they like their privacy. They like to be left alone while they hoard their piles of gold and all that. If we go to Mount Ademan, the dragons there will welcome us not with open arms, but open flames.”

  She shook her head. “They won’t. Metal Dragons are also extremely curious. They’ll want to know what Goldenthall offers in exchange for joining the war on their side. Because you see, so far the Metals have remained neutral, declaring neither for nor against either faction.”

  “Yeah, and then when they don’t like what Goldenthall offers, they’ll fry us on the spot,” he said. “Killing the messengers.”

  She gave him a grim look. “We have to try. The participation of the Metals could swing the tide of the war in our favor.”

  He sat back. “I can see why Vorgon wouldn’t want you to deliver this message of yours.”

  “Yes,” she said. “The reach of his spies obviously extends to the court of Goldenthall. Though only a tight inner circle even knew of my errand. It’s troubling to think there’s a mole among them.”

  “Wherever there’s a chance to improve one’s power and influence, you’ll find moles,” he said.

  Abigail rested her head against the trunk. “Though in this case, the price seems a bit high. Selling out one’s own kind to the enemy?”

  Malem grabbed a blade of grass from the base of the tree and chewed it to stave off his hunger. He had no intention of swallowing it. He let his gaze run to the east, where he could still sense the last of the oraks before they vanished from his perception entirely.

  He thought of something.

  “Oraks are mid-level monsters,” he said. “If dominating them is anything like taming animals, they’ll be difficult to control from a distance. That means Vorgon is in the region. Maybe in the next big city in the Midweald: Redbridge.”

  “No,” she said. “Not Vorgon.”

  He spat out the grass. “But as a Balor, he’s the only one with the power to control the monsters from his realm, like Oraks.”

  “Not true,” she said. “Vorgon has granted that power to his Black Swords, the fallen rulers of this world whose minds he has conquered.”

  He studied her uncertainly. “Are you sure?”

  She pressed her lips together, as if irked that he didn’t quite believe her. “Positive.”

  He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of these Black Swords. The generals of his armies. He prefers kings and queens.”

  “Yes,” Abigail said. “Because then he inherits their existing armies. Soldiers who then become twisted, and fight alongside the armies of the underworld.”

  “There are three Black Swords?” he asked.

  She inclined her head in confirmation. “So far. The Elf Queen Ziatrice, the Dwarf King Barrowfore, and the Eldritch Queen Mauritania. If there’s a Black Sword in Redbridge controlling these oraks, there’s a good chance it’s Ziatrice. She’s the only one who could fit in without drawing attention, easily disguising herself as a human. Then again, it’s said the Black Swords can warp the minds of weaker men to their wills. They could make the patrons of an entire inn forget what they had seen.”

  “Good thing I’m not a weak man, then,” he said.

  “Of course, that could just be rumor,” she continued. “An ability confused with Vorgon’s power.”

  “Do the Black Swords use magic?” he asked.

  “Ziatrice and Mauritania do, but not Barrowfore,” she replied. “At least, not magic in the usual sense. Unless you call the rumored mind control magic. That’s more an ability akin to you, Breaker.”

  “Then if she is there, I can find her,” he said. “Assuming I can sense her the way I sensed you. We could move from block to block, I’ll reach out, and—”

  “That’s beyond the mission parameters,” Abigail said. “I’m leaning towards skipping Redbridge entirely, in all honesty. Especially considering we’re being hunted.”

  “You don’t want to even try?” he said.

  “Do you know how big Redbridge is?” she retorted. “There will be many magic users there, most of lower level ability who’ve set up shop as apothecaries and healers. We don’t have time to scour each block, checking them all. Besides, if we find Ziatrice, I’m not equipped to deal with her. You and I alone won’t be enough against a Black Sword. Trust me.”

  Malem leaned back against the tree. “King Goldenthall sits at home on his throne in Mulhadden, while his armies fight in the west. And he sends you, an advisor you called yourself? He sends you to deliver his message to the Metal Dragons.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You sound skeptical.”

  “No, I’m trying to figure out how the Black Sword who’s hunting you found you,” he told her. “You say only a tight group within King Goldenthall’s inner circle knew of your errand? Did you publicize your planned route to that group?”

  “No,” she said. “But there were only certain paths I could have taken, once my destination was known. I left in secret, purposely not taking my ordinary retinue with me, and hiring a merchant to transport me and Sir Matthew instead. We were careful to remain inside the wagon at all times, leaving the carriage only after securing board at inns, while under the cover of darkness.”

  “Except Abe’s Wood,” he said.

  She eyed him coolly, as if that was his fault. “I’d been cooped up for so long, I wanted an excuse to stretch my legs. When I saw an iguanid so far north, my curiosity got the better of me. I hoped you might be a Tempest of some importance, but when I found what I thought was an ordinary Beast Breaker, I departed. I should have known the Black Swords would have watchers in the village. I thought my mask would protect me. I was wrong.”

  He pursed his lips. “All the Black Sword had to do was tell their spies to watch for any visitors who seemed to be of royal upbringing, especially those traveling by unconventional means. You gave yourself away the moment you stepped out into the open.”

  “I thought I was dressed as a merchant’s daughter, not a member of a king’s court,” she said.

  “So not all fire mages wear red robes?”

  She shot him an incredulous look. “No!”

  “So then the Black Sword in question instructed the spies to make note of anyone who was traveling from the south,” he said. “Merchant’s daughter or no. When your sighting was reported, the Black Sword sent some wolves to test your party. If you all fell, you were no one important. But when you fought back with magic, the Black Sword knew immediately you were the messenger.”

  She considered that for a moment. “Yes, I suppose I gave myself away in that battle. But what choice did I have?”

  Malem glanced to the right, past the trees, where the road ahead awaited. “There might be more than oraks waiting for us…”

  “We’ll just have to keep our heads down,” she said.

  “I want to stay off the road for now,” he said. “We’ll mirror the route, staying out of sight in the trees.”

  “Your beast sense can detect all monsters sent against us?” she asked.

  “Sometimes,” he told her. “And that will ha
ve to be good enough.”

  “Could you have taken control of those two mages?” she pressed.

  He laughed. “No.”

  She studied him patiently. “What about the oraks that came looking for us?”

  “Also no.”

  She folded her arms below her breasts, propping them up slightly. “But you didn’t even try.”

  “I’ve tried against other monsters in the past,” he said. “You saw how hard it was for me to subdue the dire wolf. And that’s considered a lower level monster.” He couldn’t help the downward drift of his eyes toward her bosom. “By the way, you and I should go for a drink later, when this is done.”

  She unfolded her arms. “Hmph.”

  Malem shrugged. “Can’t blame a man for trying.” He was about to mount Bounder when he thought of something. “Wait a moment. You’re a messenger for a king?”

  “That’s right,” she said.

  “And you claim to only have less than a hundred drachmae in total on your person? For a mission as important as this? I’ve been cheated. You have more, don’t you?”

  “You can’t go back on your word...” she said.

  He smiled patiently. “Actually, I can.”

  “I really don’t have more,” she said. “The mission wasn’t supposed to take this turn.”

  “But you can access more when we reach Redbridge,” Malem said. “At the bank there. Using the king’s sigil. Which I assume you have somewhere on your person.”

  She nodded slowly. “I could, but we already agreed you would be paid in full when we reached our destination, no sooner.”

  “I’m seriously considering dumping you, since I didn’t sign up for this.” Malem shook his head. “Hunted by oraks. A Black Sword. But I’m a man of word. I agreed to help you, and I will. I do hope you’ll take these changing circumstances into account however, and consider adding a bonus when this is through.”

  “I’ll certainly consider it,” she said.

  He mounted Bounder; Felipe crawled out of his collar to hang from his shoulder. Malem offered Abigail a hand. “Shall we?”

  She looked at his open palm with disdain and pulled herself into the saddle behind him on her own.