And while it was all more or less clear with the Whitebellies, I was in two minds about Clan Sharpear’s fifth house. On the one hand ― the Redpaws, which was the name of the house, were not supporters of Goody and his allies. But on the other ― much to my astonishment, I didn’t see a single marked foxman in that house’s section. The Graymanes and Yelloweyes, though, were chalk full of spies.
I wondered how the ruler of House Redpaw was able to keep all his underlings in line. Goody did not like speaking about that house. All he said was that the Redpaws did not intervene in feuds between houses. They were neutral to all. In all disputes, their vote was almost always the deciding one. As an aside, the headman and his underlings were Redpaws.
I had also learned that house was the most powerful. They had the most mages and warriors. By the way, Goody and Nimble did agree on one thing ― if Wintry Redpaw wanted to seize power in Foreston, he could. But for some reason, Wintry had not.
Finally, a wide door in the opposite wall slowly opened and the room fell silent. And one by one, the five patriarchs proceeded slowly out of the doorway. Goody meanwhile, though he was limping quite badly, was also walking upright, which elicited a buzz of approval and respect from the audience.
All thanks to the experiment Pinebogey and I had run. In the end, we had found the courage to try it. Or rather, we were talked into it by the subject of our experiment. As soon as he learned the dark infection could be gotten rid of, he demanded that we get straight to work.
Blessing’s regeneration, plus the Heart of the Forest’s cautious magical intervention produced an undeniable result. The old man was back on his feet in just a day. To tell the truth, I also had one other thing that definitely would have helped ― primordial blood. But an inner voice was telling me the time had not yet come to use the invaluable elixir.
When all the house leaders were seated, Wintry Redpaw took the floor. Tall and veiny, despite his age he gave off the impression of a domineering and powerful spirit. His level, thirty-two, spoke for itself. If this mage had been improving his parameters properly, he would make a tough opponent.
“Brothers and sisters!” he addressed the hall with a heartfelt baritone. “Before we start our clan’s yearly discussion of issues, Goody Redtail would like the floor!”
I was keeping a close eye on the emotions of every head of house. Whitebelly, Sage’s daddy, was smirking acridly. Courage Yelloweye and Grip Graymane meanwhile were looking sullenly at the audience.
I caught a glimpse of Nimble, squeezed in near the front door. We gave each other a curt nod. A satisfied smile glistened on the gray fox’s face.
The room was frozen in tension. Most of the foxfolk gathered here knew what was coming. They were all waiting for the signal. I looked around the hall one more time. Ten steps from the rostrum, I saw the headman who escorted us on our first day. We locked eyes. I smirked at the war dog again, just like before. I was actually starting to wonder which side he would choose.
“Brothers and sisters!” Goody Redtail exclaimed loudly and looked sullenly around the hall. “For several centuries, our clan has been fighting against an ancient evil. We are the last bulwark between darkness and the rest of the world. Thousands of our relatives have given their lives to the struggle. And their sacrifices are the only reason our clan yet lives! But alas, we now find ourselves in dire straits. The unity of our clan has been shaken. And I’m not talking about minor infighting. No! I’m referring to our ancient enemy. They have crept into our home like a thief on a moonless night.”
A din scurried around the hall. I could feel the tension in my skin. With every word he said, Goody’s facial expression changed. It was like he was overcoming a great pain. I thought I even noticed tears in his eyes.
“Our foe has struck us where it hurts the most!” The old man shouted out hoarsely. “Our families!”
Then, Goody extended a hand and one of the warriors sitting near the rostrum handed him a small bag. My nose picked up a familiar scent. I felt a chill run down my spine. What was this mad old man thinking?!
Everyone in the hall stared at the strange bag.
“But it has not killed them, no!” Goody shook his head. “It has forced them to betray their families in favor of a new lord. But now the day has come when we must tear up by the roots that which our enemy has planted in our home! I have already done so! Now it is your turn.”
After that, in one fluid motion, Goody tore open the drawstrings and overturned the sack right in front of the foxfolk sitting opposite. With a series of dull thuds, three heads fell to the floor one after the next. I recognized the first two, Mara and the black-furred bodyguard, but the third… That was Tim’s head.
I forced myself to look away from the dead face of the head of House Redtail’s youngest son and turned toward Nimble. His rat-like face was writhing in fear and perplexity. Just an instant before my ice spear ran through his chest, I glanced into his wide-open eyes. He knew…
Chapter 24
“HERE!”
Pinebogey’s question tore me from my thoughts. I looked up despite myself. My buddy was handing me a small bulbous flask.
“What’s in there?” I asked with hope in my voice, throat parched.
“Water. Drink up.”
Greedily sucking at the narrow opening, I emptied the contents of the flask into my body. Another few moments later, I could think clearly again. Life had reacquired its former luster.
“Feel better?” Pinebogey chuckled.
I nodded gratefully and asked:
“How’d it go down there?”
“Quick,” he said curtly and sat down on the step next to me.
We were seated on a wide balcony woven out of the “kid’s” thicker branches. And Pinebogey had continued to call Foreston’s main sequoia just that. Far below, near the roots of the giant tree, a crowd of thousands of foxfolk was gradually beginning to disperse. It was practically the whole population of the city. Not long before, Wintry Redpaw had triumphantly and loftily declared to everyone there that House Whitebelly had ceased to exist. And that all relatives as well as property of the disgraced, treacherous house would be split between the four triumphant houses as of that very day. None of the townsfolk objected. At the very least not openly. Furthermore, Wintry and the heads of the allied houses next to him were standing and shaking the decapitated heads of the blackbloods.
Yes, yes… Nimble had the bright idea of bringing blackbloods in foxfolk guise to the yearly house gathering. And that made our job a good deal easier. After we killed the first brute, no doubts remained.
Down below, next to the house leaders was also Sly, looking like he’d been beaten with a dusty sack. He had become an orphan today, just like me. His father, Goody Redtail was one of the first to fall in battle. And that was why that group of strange foxfolk seemed so suspicious to me. As a result, everyone saw that they were blackbloods. They took down the ailing old man quickly, then tried to do the same to the other house leaders. But that was where their luck ran out. After taking down Nimble, I hit him with lightning. However, that was all the help I managed to give the patriarchs. A second later, we had bigger concerns than saving the foxfolk elite. We found ourselves under attack from practically all sides. After all, killing Nimble announced to the allies of darkness what side I was on. My shields held back the onslaught. I’m not sure how, but they did. Neither Sly nor I suffered a single blow. Essentially, my main objective in the foxfolk bloodbath was to safeguard the future leader of the Redtails.
I should also mention that I had seen a lot of blood in the last year and spilled a lot as well. But the mutual feast of carnage I saw at the foxfolk gathering was completely new to me. In a frenzy, they were slicing, stabbing, burning and blighting one another with spells, as well as tearing their compatriots limb from limb with their teeth.
My father once said that the nastiest kind of war is a civil war. With brother fighting brother, father fighting son, grandson fighting grandfather. Today I saw
proof of that with my own eyes.
As for Pinebogey and I, we were more defending than attacking. Just giving our allies the odd touch of help. I didn’t even summon Gorgie. My intuition just then was telling me it wouldn’t be right to have my pet be labeled a foxfolk slayer. I must note that they did a great job without us though. In the end, as expected, the only foxman I killed was Nimble.
He shouldn’t have dragged the blackbloods into it. I understood that he needed a one-hundred-percent guaranteed victory, but that false move on Nimble’s part ended up deciding the outcome.
The thing was that many foxfolk were in favor of overthrowing the city government despite not bearing the mark. I don’t know how the rat bought them off. He was probably promising lucrative seats at the table. Fools! After Nimble’s victory, they would have met a tragic end. He was certainly not planning to share power. In the end, when shouts started entering the fray to say the marked foxfolk were coordinating with the blackbloods, the scales finally tipped in our direction.
Furthermore, there weren’t only blackbloods in the gathering hall. They were also in adjoining structures and lower floors. However, Pinebogey’s “kid,” locked all the doors, preventing them from joining the slaughter. After the battle, the victors proceeded from one room to the next with a bit of help from the woodsman, slaying the brutes as they howled in impotence.
When all was said and done, I high tailed it out of the room. For some reason, the only thing on my mind was getting some rest. The smells of blood, spilled guts, singed fur and excrement packed my nose and throat tight. The water offered by Pinebogey seemed to bring me back to life.
When I could again think normally, I realized that the most striking and unexpected aspect of all this was Goody Redtail’s opening move. I just kept mentally returning to Tim’s pale decapitated head, unable to find justifications for the old man’s cruelty.
“But he asked us not to kill the boy…” I said quietly, but Pinebogey sitting next to me didn’t hear. Strange as it may have been, he knew what I was talking about. He was probably also still freaked out by that.
“Yes, and we agreed to spare him.”
“So then why?!” I objected.
“The boy betrayed not only his house, but the whole clan,” Pinebogey shrugged. “I bet he’d have been executed either way. Especially after they saw who Nimble dragged into their city.”
After that, the woodsman nodded at the headless blackblood bodies the foxfolk were hauling out of the hall.
“Beyond that,” he continued. “By doing so, the old man made it impossible for any other house leader to go back.”
“By killing his own son?”
“Yes,” nodded Pinebogey, continuing with a sigh: “Look around you. All the turncoats are dead. The patriarchs followed Goody’s example and didn’t spare even their closest relatives. Loyalty to the clan is above family ties. And that was precisely what the Redtail leader was showing them all. Beyond that, as I already said, if we won, the boy would have been doomed either way. When it comes to questions of clan loyalty, it’s all or nothing.”
I felt a chill run down my spine. Great System forbid I ever have to make a choice like that!
I remember the disbelieving and pained look in Sly’s eyes. To see his brother’s decapitated head, then his father’s death ― it must have been a huge shock. The kid is gonna have to ball up all his will in his fist. Because now, to top it all off, he was also responsible for his entire house. I gave myself word that I would try to support Sly as much as possible. Furthermore, I already knew how I could help reinforce the young house leader’s position.
I took another gulp from the flask and closed my eyes. But no matter how I wanted to just disassociate from the world around me, I didn’t even get a chance to really cool off.
“Master Eric!” a familiar voice pulled me up out of my half-dream.
“Ah, headman,” I snorted, opening my eyes. “I see you made the right choice in the end.”
Then I nodded at the blood-soaked bandage on his head.
“Serving the clan is my duty!” the foxman rapped back, his lips slightly pursed.
You got off easier than most today. You didn’t have to cut your own brother or father’s throat. I’m sure today is a triumph for Wintry Redpaw. He is the only patriarch not to allow his house to be defiled. But out loud I said with a chuckle:
“Your zeal is commendable, headman! I’m glad I was right about you. If you like, I could help you heal faster.”
The foxman shook his head violently. He was offended. My tone had clearly wounded him. Patience, headman. I’m not in the mood right now either.
“Master Eric,” the headman repeated, getting himself together. “Your presence is urgently needed down below.”
I nodded understandingly and started to get up. It only makes sense. The time had come to prove that I really did belong to the order of monster hunters.
“Well then, buddy,” I chuckled at Pinebogey. “They’re going to be expecting a miracle.”
When we made it to the ground, there was a crowd waiting. All the house leaders and their closest confidants. Behind them, a large and diverse multitude of foxfolk was bubbling with excitement. The city dwellers were not planning to disperse as I initially thought. The foxfolk demanded more.
I ran a gaze over all the patriarchs’ faces. At the head of the procession was Wintry Redpaw. He was trying to remain tranquil and somewhat aloof. As for Courage Yelloweye and Grip Graymane, they were obviously nervous. This was the moment of truth. Would their monster hunter trump card play? The only one not expressing any emotion was Sly. The young mage looked completely burned out ― too much trauma for one day.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” I pronounced, taking the reins. “As you are already aware, I am a member of the order of monster hunters!”
I had to speak loudly so as many people as possible could hear. Based on the excited outbursts from the crowd, my words came as a surprise to a lot of them. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the headman’s face grow long, already accustomed to escorting my butt everywhere.
Wintry Redpaw, clearly having intended to play a leading role in the proceedings, was none too pleased with my initiative. He winced like he’d just eaten a sour plum. No, old man. You’re not going to order me around.
“People of Foreston!” I said even louder. “This city was built… hm…” I took a short glance at Pinebogey standing next to me and adjusted: “Or rather cultivated by the primordials for the monster hunters to hold back Darkness! You as the worthy successors and inheritors of your ancestors’ sacred cause, have spent a long time holding back beasts trespassing upon our world. Today you have again proven that Clan Sharpear is still strong and unified! It is a great honor today for me to be among you!”
The crowd greeted my words with an approving hum. Even Wintry loosened his purse strings and gave a patronizing nod. But I didn’t give a crap about that foxman’s emotions. I was more concerned with Sly’s. The look in the young mage’s eyes was slowly becoming more present.
“Today, many of you lost your relatives!” I continued. “Believe me, your pain hits close to home. I have lost loved ones to my enemies before. And some of those enemies I have punished already, while others have yet to answer for their villainy!”
I took a long look at the now silent foxfolk. My will seems to be leading me down the right path. I didn’t see a single vacant stare. Sly seemed to have woken up as well.
“People of Foreston!” I shouted. “We share a common Enemy! A powerful and clever Enemy! And they wish to acquire the bygone might their ilk once possessed. In pursuit of that goal, they are willing to destroy families, clans and even entire nations! And they are becoming more powerful with every passing hour!”
A buzz of outrage wafted up over the square.
“Now, in various corners of the world, their minions feed the blood of hundreds and thousands to dark portals! Who knows where that can lead better than you? Now on another continen
t, on the outskirts of the Wastes in the Stone Forest, a Dark Gateway will be opened very soon, and hordes of otherworldly brutes will come flooding into our world. The very same will happen near here as well, on the opposite side of Narrow Lake. And then, Darkness will reattain its former might!”
My last words boomed out into a cryptlike silence. Based on all the widened pupils and fur standing on end, my speech had gotten to even Wintry.
“Just yesterday, many of you may have thought the war I now speak of was taking place somewhere far away. But today you have seen with your own eyes that this war has already begun and has touched what matters most ― your families!”
I could read determination and willingness to do battle again on the foxfolk’s sullen faces.
Labyrinth of Fright (Underdog Book #5): LitRPG Series Page 26
