《The Hunter Prince》


 1: Prologue - Kingdom of Drorin

    - Kingdom ofDrorin-


    Squawking seagulls masked the distant sound of pounding hooves. The nearby hill kept the approachers hidden from view. Only minutes separated Colm from the first true terror of his life.


    A crisp breeze offset the heat of the high sun as Colm dipped his toes into the cool water that lay below his swinging feet. Tiny waves rippled outward where he broke the lake¡¯s glass-like surface. His mother sat next to him at the end of the dock, dangling her feet over the edge, ankle deep in the water.


    The sun hit her golden hair and made it shine as Colm glanced up at her. This would likely be the last time he would spend with his mother as a child. Tomorrow, everything would change. After all, he had passed his twelfth year last night, and tomorrow he would have responsibilities of his own.


    His sisters giggled behind him, still talking about the festival that marked his passing from child to man - or rather, they whispered of other young men who had attended the party. Colm turned to look as the two handmaidens who had accompanied them to the lake smiled, laying out treats for the girls from the baskets they¡¯d brought.


    Tomorrow, he would begin studying under his father¡¯s advisors. He¡¯d learn everything from the mathematics that the Kingdom of Drorin was known for developing to the management of the castle and how to rule his people. His childhood had ended and he would greet tonight¡¯s crowning ceremony a man. He was only being crowned as prince official, as his father was still at the pinnacle of health, but the moment would mark a turning point in Colm¡¯s life.


    No, not Colm he thought. Colmudh Nightsbane II. His full name now, second after his father King Colmudh Nightsbane.


    He tried to put everything to come out of his mind and simply sit with his mother, the Queen, who likewise was doing her best to enjoy the day with her son, setting all courtly manners and matters aside.


    Colm kicked his feet, splashing water on a passing goose, who honked at him before changing direction and leading her goslings further out toward the center of the lake. His sisters giggled again, but he ignored them.


    Selia, at sixteen, was already betrothed to the prince of Yareswen, which was to the east, and she would be leaving within the year to start her new life. Colm resented her for it; he knew that his anger was unfair, and that she had no choice in the matter, but he didn¡¯t know how else to shield himself from the pain of his sister leaving. Their father had spoken, and so it would be; the King¡¯s word was law.


    Colm didn¡¯t understand how she could be so carefree, laughing with Leira, who was only fourteen years old but, nevertheless, very interested in the three dukes who had attended the celebration last night.


    The girls chattered away while his mother pulled the small knife from its sheath on her belt and cut the garland he wore around his neck. He¡¯d forgotten it was there. The taller duke¡¯s pretty sister had lowered it down over his head during the celebration and he¡¯d ended the festivities so tired that he¡¯d gone to bed with it on. It fell to the water and they both watched in silence as it slowly floated away.


    Colm heard the intruders before he saw them; the thunder of hooves stampeding over the hill, somehow already inside the castle walls. His mother went terrifyingly still for a moment, then grabbed him quickly by the hair, cutting his ponytail with one swipe of her knife, leaving his hair no longer than a pageboy¡¯s.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Mortified he looked up at her, too confused for words but wanting to scream, when she shoved him off the dock and into the lake.


    ¡°Quickly! Swim under the docks! Do not come out, not for any reason! Do you hear me, Colm?¡± He saw her rise and rush to gather the girls and herd them off the docks. ¡°No, it¡¯s too late to jump in, they already see us! Stay silent girls, leave it to me.¡±


    Colm swam to one of the posts that held the planks above, having to try a few times to get a good grip as the moss that clung to the old wood made for a slippery hold. The women of his family ran across the boards above him.


    Why would his mother do this? Why did he have to hide?


    He watched through the gaps in the floorboards overhead as men on horseback arrived on the dock, blocking his family¡¯s path. There were easily fifteen of them, if not more.


    Without a word, a man with a fur mantle draped over his shoulders dismounted and approached Colm¡¯s mother and sisters and the two terrified handmaidens who accompanied them. He drew is sword, deaf to the queen¡¯s protests.


    ¡°You are not welcome here! You are intruding upon the King¡¯s land, and I will not stand for it!¡±


    Anything else she would have said was cut off as the end of the furred man¡¯s sword exited Colm¡¯s mother¡¯s back. He bit back his own scream as his sister¡¯s cries filled his ears.


    The handmaidens rushed to catch his mother¡¯s body as it fell to the docks, tears already streaming down their faces.


    ¡°He wants all of the royal line dead. None of the blood left to seek revenge,¡± the furred man said.


    Two other soldiers dismounted and thrust their swords through Selia and Leira without a word. Their bodies thunked onto the wooden planks above Colm¡¯s head. Strands of Selia¡¯s blond hair drifted down through the gaps. Colm blinked back his tears as red rained down through the cracks, staining the water and his face alike. The men turned their attention back to the furred man as he stood over the handmaidens.


    ¡°Where is the prince, girl?¡± He asked the red-headed handmaiden.


    She sobbed, choked with emotion, and did not speak.


    ¡°Where is the boy? I will not ask again!¡± he shouted. Colm recognized the grizzle in his voice; he¡¯d heard it among men who smoked the purple thater-leaf.


    When the handmaiden¡¯s only response was another sob, the man slit her throat without ceremony. He¡¯d angled his blade toward the second handmaiden before the first had hit the ground.


    ¡°We were told the prince would be with you. Where is he?¡± His grizzled voice, now calm and quiet, was all the more terrifying for it.


    ¡°There¡¯s no prince here sir, I swear it!¡± She spoke quickly, her voice breaking.


    ¡°My scouts reported the boy with you when you left the castle. I will not ask again.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s only the pageboy with us, s-sir. The p-price was with the King¡¯s advisors when we left, sir, on m-my life!¡± Tears made rivers down her reddened face.


    ¡°Where is this pageboy now? We¡¯ve only orders to kill those of the blood. If you and this pageboy help us find the prince, we¡¯ll let you go.¡±


    Her eyes never left the ground as, after a moment, she raised a trembling hand to at the dock under which Colm hid.


    Colm heard the stomp of boots above him, and a large hand attached to an even larger arm reached down and around the edge of the wooden planks to grab him by the collar of his shirt, then haul him up and onto the dock.


    Rather than setting him down, this giant of a man carried Colm out in front of him, as one would a cat caught by the scruff of its neck, and dropped him between the dead and living handmaidens.


    Like the weeping woman, Colm stared at the ground, afraid to look anywhere else. The blond handmaiden grabbed his hand, perhaps trying to offer comfort, and he listened as the furred man¡¯s blade cut through her throat. He watched her blood soak the green grass blades in front of him and felt her grip on his hand grow slack. It slid out of his, even as he tried to hold onto it, while some of the men above him laughed. Her body fell forward, and she was dead.


    ¡°You¡¯re coming with us, pageboy,¡± the growling voice of the furred man said from above the red-stained grass. ¡°You¡¯re going to tell us where the prince has hidden himself. You won¡¯t like it, but you¡¯ll like the alternative less.¡± The other men chuckled again as the massive soldier who had first hauled Colm from the water once more lifted him and threw him sideways over the back of a horse.


    Colm raised his head for one last look at the docks, his view bobbing as the horse turned. His mother, his sisters, and the two handmaidens who had not betrayed his identity lay in lifeless piles, unable to smile and wave him goodbye.

 2: Prologue - Kingdom of Yareswen

    - Kingdom of Yareswen -


    ¡°Leona, darling, remove your elbow from the table!¡± the whisper came from her right.


    Ever the proper host, her mother. Leona didn¡¯t even need to look at her to imagine the plump woman¡¯s brows raised above her widened eyes, aghast at her daughter¡¯s abhorrent behavior. Women of stature do not rest their elbows upon the table during a meal. What would their guests think?


    Leona stifled her sigh as she moved her arm to rest on her lap and looked down at the gown her mother had chosen for her. It was yellow and lilac, the shades of House Selwyn. She didn¡¯t mind the gown so much - the colors were hers, after all - but rather the reason she had to wear it: tonight, Bradsford Prattleswen III and his parents dined with the Selwyn family.


    ¡°Not that the guard would notice such a thing,¡± she heard Duke Prattleswen II say as her father laughed.


    She tried not to roll her eyes. At eighteen years of age, Leona had already been betrothed to Bradsford for two years. Despite this, she had only met the young man twice, and neither time was enjoyable. He wasn¡¯t a bad man; he was simply a complete and utter bore.


    Leona wanted adventure in her life. She wanted to look back, even as close as yesterday, and find meaning in what she saw there. That wouldn¡¯t happen if she married the heir of an etherium manufacturing empire who spent his days running the numbers in a factory.


    While it was true that Yareswen far exceeded neighboring kingdoms with their advancement of magi-tech, Leona would never find the excitement she so desperately sought in paperwork - and while being the richest family this side of the Yareswen River may have impressed her father, it had never meant anything to her.


    She looked up to find her mother still watching her, as if Leona would further rebel against social expectation. She smiled that perfect daughter-smile she¡¯d spent the past fifteen years developing to show the woman that she would embrace the perfectionist social niceties expected of nobility in Yareswen.


    Why couldn¡¯t she be one of the adventurers who passed through the market - like the ones in that cat-hide-covered wagon she¡¯d seen earlier in the day? Those three looked to be an interesting bunch, as different from one another as they were from the Selwyns.


    She imagined the adventurers spent most of their time on the road, staying in taverns when they bothered to enter cities, and hunting the dire beasts that roamed the lands for a living. Why couldn¡¯t she do that? Why couldn¡¯t she be a Direman?


    ¡°And what of you, Leona? What do you do to pass the time?¡± Duchess Prattleswen asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m an excellent archer,¡± Leona replied, bringing herself back to the conversation. ¡°I even placed first in the past two Yareswen archery competitions.¡±


    She gave in to resignation as she watched the stiff body language of their guests. She probably wouldn¡¯t even be allowed that joy soon. Bradsford likely wouldn¡¯t want a wife who was actually involved in an activity that could produce sweat on a hot day.


    Duke Prattleswen II smiled at Leona as a man smiles at a child who hasn¡¯t yet learned the way of things. ¡°You will grow to enjoy the leisure time you¡¯ll find at our estate. You¡¯ll even be able to devote yourself to activities befitting a woman of your new station, without the pressure of competitive pursuits.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Bradsford added amiably. ¡°My sister has incredible dexterity with the needles and would surely assist you. You¡¯ll build enough dexterity to be proud in no time at all, I¡¯m sure.¡±


    Leona had prepared for this and endured it all with practiced smiles and false grace. Inside, however, she was tearing at her hair and screaming at them all for being so pathetically complacent and caught up in a social structure that meant nothing in the end, and served only to limit a woman¡¯s options in life.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°I¡¯ve much to share with you as well on my family¡¯s particular embroidery techniques,¡± the Duchess continued. ¡°You¡¯ll finally be able to focus on something appropriate to women of our ilk.¡±


    The distaste of Leona¡¯s archery was apparent, despite the supportive comments.


    ¡°Your estates would have room for a small archery range though, wouldn¡¯t they, Lady Prattleswen?¡± She couldn¡¯t help herself.


    Her father coughed into his coffee, and Bradsford replied from across the table before his mother had the chance.


    ¡°Oh, my dear Leona, surely you will want to leave such physically straining activities behind and finally take your place among the social elite?¡± He smiled as he spoke, though it never reached his eyes.


    Not a bad man, no, but definitely a product of his environment. Leona did not want to be a porcelain doll, there to grace his arm and show his peers that he - like them - was a proper man. If only she¡¯d been born male, she could be a Direman archer and no one would look down on her for it.


    Later that night, unable to sleep, Leona stared at the ceiling above her. She ran through all the proclamations she wished she¡¯d made at the dinner table. Time and time again she arrived at the same conclusion. She simply could not marry that man. She could not live that life.


    Her parents wouldn¡¯t be swayed, as she well knew. She¡¯d tried over the past two years on multiple occasions, but the social status they would gain from this union was of too much importance to them, and the merger of her father¡¯s business with their manufacturing empire was something he couldn¡¯t pass up.


    She threw off the duvet and stood. She could only see two options: kill herself and show them all the error and uselessness of their ways¡­ Or leave.


    She had no desire to die, but she didn¡¯t have anywhere to go, either. Realizing she¡¯d risen and was pacing, she stopped in front of the window, sparing a glance to her bow in the corner and the accolades displayed on the shelf next to it.


    She could make it as a Direman, couldn¡¯t she? She had hit moving targets often in her competitions and while women weren¡¯t generally allowed to hunt in the forests, she was better than half the men who supplied her estate with venison and boar.


    A hunter was one thing. A Direman, though, they sought the monstrous and almost mythical beasts from which normal hunters fled.


    Leona thought back to the Diremen she¡¯d seen in the market earlier that day. There wasn¡¯t a bow among them.


    The large, burly man had carried the largest battle axe she¡¯d ever seen strapped to his back. The foppish one, in his garish Western garb, wore two rapiers at his belt. She recalled this well because it struck her as tremendously odd, fighting with two full-sized blades instead of the rapier and dagger style that was popular throughout Yareswen.


    Last among them was a man who wore a shield on his back and carried a longsword on his right hip, which was also odd. It meant that the man was left-handed, which was rare enough that some considered it a myth. Leona had decided he was the leader based on the way that he carried himself.


    Surely, she could show them the value of having a bowman with them. Yes, she thought. Yes, this is what I will do.


    Leona picked up her carpet bag and opened it, setting it atop her bed. After dressing in her training tunic and breaches, she placed two sets of clothing - no gowns, and the jewelry from her top drawer into the bag. She threw its handles over her shoulder, grabbed her bow and quiver, then stepped out into the hall.


    With light steps she crossed to the stairs and hugged the wall as she descended to avoid creaks and groans from the steps. She¡¯d learned to do that years back in order to sneak into the backyard to practice her archery in the darkness, as if being unable to see much would make her better somehow.


    She snuck into the kitchen and grabbed a handful of fruit and hard tack from the larder. That would tide her over until she could sell her jewelry and purchase better equipment. With one last look around the kitchen, she pushed open the back door and slipped away into the night.


    Leona stuck to the shadows as she moved toward the market district. It was unlikely that the city guards would recognize her in the darkness, but she didn¡¯t want to take any chances. She knew the Diremen would probably leave just before dawn to avoid the foot traffic; thus she, too, would be gone before her parents woke up.


    She reached the tavern and saw their hide-covered wagon parked in the alley. I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re doing this, she told with herself. What are you going to do when they discover you, far from town, and reject you?


    Leona shut that voice down, refusing to be swayed. Looking both ways, she darted across the cobblestone street and hopped into the back of the wagon.


    It was too dark to make out anything other than wooden crates, but she noticed a pile of tanned hides and furs by touch and lifted them. After crawling beneath the pile, she huddled up, certain she would not be noticed when the men set out on their next journey.

 3: Act I - Four Years Later

    - Four Years Later -


    - Mountain Forests Outside Drorin -


    The string taut, the tension begging her skin to break and bleed, Leona exhaled slowly and released her hold. The arrow sang as it left its place beside her cheek and soared toward its target.


    A second passed and she heard a familiar sound as the arrow pierced the flesh and sunk into her target¡¯s neck, just behind its jaw.


    The dire wolf howled, a mix of pain and anger as it turned in her direction, preparing to charge the bushes its attacker must surely be behind. Easily three and a half times the size of a normal wolf, it¡¯s silhouette against the moonlight in the clearing made for an imposing sight.


    So focused was the beast on the source of the assault that it missed the crunch of underbrush as Durnst executed his part of the plan and slammed his shield into the beast.


    The blow lifted the dire wolf off its feet and tossed it few meters, where it landed heavily on its side, the snow doing nothing to break its fall to the ice-hardened forest floor.


    As it started to rise, the flat broadside of Brash¡¯s axe landed on its spine in a crushing blow that dropped the beast back to the ground.


    It snarled, ready to turn on this new scarred and massive foe, when Rel dropped from the branch where he¡¯d been waiting, landing with a foot on either side of the dire wolf¡¯s shoulders and deftly pierced the back of the beast¡¯s neck with his two rapiers.


    One sank neatly through its spine, severing all connection between brain and body. The dire wolf collapsed to the ground, bleeding out, as the remaining snow from the branch above landed softly on Rel¡¯s shoulders.


    Rel stepped back to provide a clear view as Durnst and Leona approached.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°He¡¯s in perfect condition¡±, Durnst said appraisingly. ¡°All of you performed your tasks exactly as planned. A successful training exercise, to be certain. We¡¯ll be able to harvest all the best bones and hide intact.¡±


    ¡°Too bad the dire meat is inedible,¡± Rel commented. ¡°We¡¯d eat like kings all the time.¡±


    Durnst shrugged his shoulders, unable to argue. ¡°Combined with the Dire Elk two nights past, at least we¡¯ll turn a decent profit in Drorin tomorrow. Well done, everyone.¡±


    -Drorin-


    Colm¡¯s vision swam. No, not my vision - me, he thought as he realized his body was swinging. His hands were tied above him, the rope draped over a hook between his wrists that kept him hanging from the ceiling.


    He heard a familiar sickening, ripping sound below him and his brain reminded him the pain would swiftly follow.


    The pain spread through his frayed nerves, but he was too exhausted to scream. His head drooped, and he saw a smile on the greasy face of his torturer, the man¡¯s mouth only half-filled with teeth as he pulled the hooked blade from Colm¡¯s side.


    Before the squat, foul-smelling man could taunt him again about his predicament, he was shoved aside by the soldier who had visited weekly for as long as Colm could remember.


    The solder¡¯s visits were the only event by which Colm could mark the passage of time.


    ¡°You¡¯ve been here what, four years? Your body is a shriveled husk of scars, boy. You¡¯ll tell me where the royal family hid the prince the day we took you, or you¡¯ll never leave this room. My man here has kept you alive this long, he¡¯ll keep you alive for a long while yet. All I need is where he was that day, just that starting point, and this will all end.¡±


    Colm tried to smile, but his lips and cheeks were so swollen from that morning¡¯s beating that he was sure it was a futile gesture. What was more pain? It was all he knew. He wasn¡¯t even entirely sure whom they were asking about anymore.


    ¡°Squat over a mirror, I think I saw him up your arse,¡± he finally found the energy to say.


    The soldier fumed and brought his fist back for a punch. His anger distracted him such that he didn¡¯t notice Colm had finally worked his hands free of the rope that kept him dangling a foot above the floor.


    Colm dropped to the hard stone, his blood on the floor already sticky as he landed in it. He reached, weak but fast, across the soldier¡¯s belt and pulled the man¡¯s dirk from its sheath.


    He shoved the blade into the man¡¯s left thigh, then pulled it out and thrust it into the other leg before the older man could react. When the soldier fell to his knees, Colm pushed the blade into the man¡¯s throat.


    Colm rose and turned to the fat torturer as the soldier¡¯s body fell to the floor, watched him back up with widened eyes, and smiled.

 4: Act I - For Years Later cont...

    It had been weeks - or months? Colm was unsure how long he¡¯d been living on the streets of this city called Drorin. He¡¯d learned that the city was called Drorin from the other street beggars who occasionally shared a word or two with him.


    In this same way, he also knew Drorin was the capital of the kingdom. The other street-rats mostly kept to themselves, and so Colm did as well. He couldn¡¯t complain. Despite having to beg and scavenge for food, he was eating better than he had in years, and he luxuriated in the ability to take naps, drink clean water from the fountain, and not endure daily torture.


    The pain of those years was all that he could remember. He didn¡¯t know what his life had been prior to the torture. His memories had been burned away in the fires of hurt that the slimy, fat, toothless man had put him through every waking moment. Images of the various metal hooks, prongs, and knives that had poked, prodded, and torn him still flashed through his mind daily.


    He''d learned the basics of pickpocketing since the last turn of the moon and had an actual coin in his pocket today. He was proud that he''d been able to acquire the skill through watching the other street-rats when they didnt think anyone was looking.


    Most of the city buildings were a combination of old weathered stone and dark woods. A few buildings stood out in their use of lighter colored woods, which served as navigational reminders for Colm when he was trying to outrun guards or bullies. There were signs on many of the buildings and street corners, but he couldn''t read. The symbols looked familiar to him when he looked up at them, as if he was about to remember them but couldn''t grasp the knowledge before it slipped away each time.


    The winding streets and lack of any real orgnaization to them led Colm to believe the city hand been built and rebuilt over the years, sprawling out further following paths its original builders had created before realizing it would become so large. Stairs and steep streets were common as the city clung to the large hill that its capital castle sat atop.


    Today, with the coin in his pocket, he would purchase bread from the baker at the far end of the market, opposite a rare and unobstructed view of the castle.


    Colm shuddered and put that last thought from his mind. He did his best to ignore the castle on the hill that overlooked the city. He didn¡¯t know why, but it unnerved him to see it.


    Weaving through the crowd, he noticed a group of foreigners leading a covered wagon to the butcher¡¯s shop on the corner. There were four of them total, and only upon a second look did he realize that one of them - the redhead - was a woman.


    She was dressed like a man with course woven pants and a leather vest, which was a bit silly, but it got his attention and so Colm followed them, curious to see who they were. Entertainment was another luxury he didn¡¯t remember having experienced before he started his life as a street urchin, and watching silly and interesting people was an enjoyable way to pass the time. Besides, foreigners often make for easy marks. Or so he¡¯d heard the other street-rats say.


    Only one of the four was dressed in familiar clothing - standard grey trousers and the studded leather tunic common among the hunters from the guild that provided the butcher with deer and elk each week. This man was larger than any guild member he¡¯d seen and carried an enormous axe on his back. Equally enormous were the bones thrown up over one shoulder as he approached a craftsman¡¯s stall next door to the butcher.


    The red-headed woman - or girl? He couldn¡¯t quite make out her age - approached the butcher while the man with the shield slung over his shoulder and another foppish-looking man carried a slab of meat that looked to require their combined strength up to the butcher¡¯s counter.


    That meant the one with the bones was alone at the next stall.


    Colm maneuvered himself through the crowd and snuck up behind the behemoth of a man. Moving the way he¡¯d been shown by the other urchins, he pulled the man¡¯s coin purse from his belt.


    It worked!


    He fought to keep the smile from his face and turned quickly to blend back into the crowd when a vice closed over his wrist.


    He knew the vice well and stood paralyzed, waiting for the pain that was to come - the crack as the iron tightened to the bone.


    This grip however, while tight, was made of flesh and simply held him fast. He turned to look, and saw the large man staring back at him with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.


    The man¡¯s face was covered in faded scars, hinting at years of fighting. As they looked at each other, Colm thought he saw the man¡¯s jaw slacken slightly and eyebrows raise in alarm, but the moment passed in the blink of an eye and then the amusement was back on his face.


    He picked Colm up by the wrist, lifting him off the ground with his immense strength in the process. Turning to his party, he said simply: ¡°Thief.¡±


    They turned and eyed him up and down, looking thoroughly unimpressed.


    ¡°Getting a bit slow, aren¡¯t you, to let a wee rat like that get the better of you?¡± said the slim, dandy of a man with the thin mustache. The style of his doublet was very trendy among the upper class in Drorin.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°We shall duel.¡± The man said, still holding Colm. He moved his arm to hold Colm out in front of him, eye to eye. ¡°If I best you, I shall buy you a full dinner at the tavern, and you will dine with us, but I will keep my purse.¡±


    Colm gulped but refused to let fear show on his face. How bad could it be? He knew pain. ¡°What if I win?¡±


    The large man threw back his head and laughed. He could hear the foppish one behind him snicker. The woman made a sound of annoyance and rolled her eyes but stopped short of interfering.


    ¡°If you win,¡± the brute said, bringing his laughter under control ¡°I will take you from these streets. I will clothe you and train you to be a Direman. Or you may keep the coinpurse. Your choice.¡±


    What¡¯s a Direman? Colm considered how long the coins in that purse would keep him fed.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that is-¡± the other male voice behind Colm started to say, before being cut off by an unreadable look from the man who held him. ¡°As you wish,¡± the voice said with a sigh, resigned.


    The large man smiled and set Colm down. Glancing around, Colm could see that a crowd had formed around them, and there were no gaps through which he could flee.


    ¡°Choose a weapon!¡± the man said and raised his hands to indicate his fellow hunters.


    Colm looked at them each in turn. The redheaded woman had a bow on her back and a short sword at her waist. She raised an eyebrow as he looked at her.


    The foppish man had a rapier hanging from either side of his belt. Colm didn¡¯t think a thin blade like that would be much help against the towering brute.


    Colm¡¯s eyes landed on the longsword held by the man with the shield. Something must have shown on Colm¡¯s face, because the man sighed again and drew his sword, offering it hilt-first to Colm.


    Colm accepted it, and its weight caused his arms to drop slightly. The man began taking the shield off his back.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t want that. Just the sword.¡± It was all he could do to lift the blade with both hands. There was no way he¡¯d be able to hold a shield at the same time.


    The two men and the woman stepped back, merging with the rest of the crowd, and the only people left in the center were Colm and the massive man from whom he¡¯d tried to steal.


    ¡°My name is Colm¡± he said, thinking it sounded rather adult and honorable to introduce himself for the duel. His was a common name here in Drorin, but he thought he saw a twitch in the other¡¯s eye, though his face betrayed nothing else.


    ¡°I¡¯m Brash,¡± he said simply. ¡°Now we fight!¡±


    Colm let out a shout and rushed, not wanting to give his opponent time to reach for the axe and without any idea what else to do.


    Brash quickly sidestepped his swing and, sticking his leg out at an angle, caught Colm¡¯s feet and sent him tumbling to the ground.


    Colm landed hard and skidded, barely keeping his grip on the sword, but quickly scrambled back to his feet. He heard laughter from the crowd. Just another beggar, not a life worth worrying about. Look at the hunter making a fool of him, putting him in his place. Yes, hilarious!


    Colm narrowed his eyes and charged Brash. He raised his sword high, as though he would attempt another overhead arch like the one he¡¯d just failed to deliver, but at the last second he spun, presenting his back to his opponent for an instant - a risk he decided was worth it in the heat of the moment - and brought the sword down in a horizontal slash.


    Brash dodged backward, seemingly surprised by Colm¡¯s trick, and the tip of his sword cut into Brash¡¯s forearm, drawing blood. Red. A color Colm knew well.


    ¡°Enough, lad,¡± Brash said with a laugh. ¡°You¡¯ve drawn first blood. You have bested me this day.¡±


    The crowd began to disperse, perhaps disappointed that the thief hadn¡¯t been beaten and no longer interested in simple conversation.


    Colm kept his sword raised and stared at the man, catching his breath. ¡°I¡¯ll take that coin purse, then.¡±


    ¡°Aye, it¡¯s yours. Why don¡¯t you come with us, though? Earn a living as a Direman. There¡¯s more money where this came from,¡± Brash said as he tossed the coin purse to Colm.


    The man with the shield approached Colm calmly and held out his hand.


    He wants his sword back, you dimwit. Colm handed him the sword, hilt first as it had been handed to him.


    ¡°Brash, we can hardly afford to-¡± The foppish man¡¯s voice was cut short by another look from Brash. He raised his hands in defeat, and he and the redheaded woman turned back to the butcher to finish their haggling.


    ¡°Young Colm, my name is Durnst,¡± said the other man as he took back and sheathed the longsword once more. After a glance at Brash, he spoke again in a resigned voice. ¡°Per your agreement with Brash, you may return the coin purse and join us as his apprentice, if you so desire. It¡¯s not often we take on another to join us, but Brash rarely demands anything. It is a very dangerous life, and the choice is yours to make. Personally, I would use that money there to buy yourself an apprenticeship here in Drorin, or perhaps to buy your way into a position as pageboy to the castle.¡±


    Colm felt suddenly cold and focused his attention everywhere but at the castle on the hill. No, he couldn¡¯t go there. He couldn¡¯t ever go there.


    ¡°What does a Direman do? I can tell you¡¯re not part of the hunters guild here,¡± Colm asked.


    ¡°No, we certainly are not. There are hunters, and then there are hunters.¡±


    Colm could hear the difference in the emphasis he gave the second title.


    ¡°The hunters in your city¡¯s guild provide meat to the butchers by hunting down boar, elk, rabbits, and the like. They also provide pelts for leather working. Diremen go after far more dangerous prey. Have you ever heard of a dire beast?¡±


    Colm shook his head.


    ¡°History later, Cap¡¯n,¡± Brash said, clapping Colm on the shoulder. ¡°Let me get the lad clothed and find a proper weapon down at the smythe before we sup. There will be plenty of time for learning on the road.¡±


    Durnst nodded.


    ¡°What say ye, lad? Be my apprentice, learn the ways of the Direman, and make some money?¡±


    Colm decided he liked the giant man Brash, and smiled. ¡°Why not?¡± he said jovially. ¡°There¡¯s nothing for me in this city anyhow.¡±


    He thought he saw Brash¡¯s eyes sadden for a moment, but the man grinned at him and started off toward the smythe.


    Colm saw the redhead turn, and he could swear he heard her mutter, ¡°You let him win, old man,¡± but Brash ignored her accusation as he passed, waving for Colm to catch up. Colm followed.


    As he walked, he felt happy. This group seemed very serious. They would benefit from his attitude and humor to lighten the mood. He¡¯d resolved, weeks ago - or was it months? - to be happy at all times, as nothing could be as bad as it once was. Any moment outside that chamber of pain and horror was a moment worth relishing.


    He jogged, hurrying to catch up to Brash, and wondering what kinds of weapons they would consider down at the smythe.

 5: Act I - Drorin Countryside

    - Drorin Countryside -


    ¡°How¡¯s the greatsword, kid?¡± Leona asked Colm as they walked alongside the caravan.


    ¡°Heavy,¡± he huffed. ¡°But it feels good strapped to my back and Brash says I¡¯ll need the stronger back that carrying it will give me, if I¡¯m to be swinging it around at our foes.¡±


    Leona snorted. ¡°Give me distance and a bow, any day.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no romance in that, though!¡± Rel said from the seat up at the front of the wagon, joining the conversation. ¡°Fighting is like dancing, Colm. You need a partner. There¡¯s a rhythm to it all, an experience to be shared with your opponent.¡±


    Leona shook her head but smiled. ¡°You would say that.¡±


    Colm turned to walk backwards so he could watch Rel and Leona.


    Rel smiled and bowed his head in acknowledgment. ¡°Learn to dance, Colm. The ladies love a man who can dance.¡± He winked.


    ¡°Not all of them,¡± Leona muttered under her breath while she rolled her eyes. Colm laughed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to her, Colm. Dance.¡± Rel said as he straightened his thin mustache with his fingers.


    ¡°How far away is Cantford, by the way?¡± Colm asked. He¡¯d been told that morning that they would travel to the coastal city in the hopes of finding a good hunt.


    ¡°Two more days,¡± Leona said with a grunt, timing a jump to lift herself up onto the moving wagon to take the empty seat next to Rel. ¡°Your back will definitely get sore, but stronger for it.¡±


    Colm smiled again and turned forward to look ahead at the never-ending expanse of farmland. Two days! He could never remember being outside the city, and now there was nothing but open land for days in all directions. The sky above stretched on endlessly over the horizon, with no stone walls to block his view of it. He breathed deeply. Yes, this had been the right choice.


    A muffled whistle sounded from within the covered wagon and Colm looked over his shoulder to see Rel pull on the reins, slowing the horses. He made a ¡°tick¡± sound with his voice and the horses began pulling the wagon over to the side of the road.


    Colm slowed his pace to let the wagon pass him by, then followed it onto the grass. The back canvas of the wagon¡¯s covering flew open, and Durnst hopped out onto the ground.


    ¡°We¡¯ll camp here tonight,¡± he said as Brash landed beside him. ¡°Leona, see what you can find. Rel, grab some wood out of the back.¡±


    Each spoke their assent as Brash reached back into the wagon and pulled out his axe. ¡°Come on then, Colm! We¡¯ll train a bit while they hunt and make camp.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I do something to help?¡± Colm asked, looking from Brash to Durnst.


    ¡°You¡¯re Brash¡¯s apprentice,¡± Durnst answered. ¡°For now, simply do as he says.¡±


    Colm nodded and followed Brash further into the field.


    ¡°Right then, lad,¡± Brash said. ¡°Take that great blade of yours and hold it out toward me. Let¡¯s see how well you balance.¡±


    Colm reached his right arm up and behind his head, grasping the two-handed hilt that poked up from behind his shoulder. He angled it down, pushing the blade so it slipped through the slit in the side of the sheath, then brought it up and around so he could grip it in both hands.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    With the blade up in the air, he felt grounded and powerful. As he lowered the tip to face toward Brash, however, the weight of the massive piece of iron began to pull him forward. He pushed one foot out in front of him and clenched his stomach muscles to help him stay upright as he brought the sword level with the ground.


    Brash stared at him but said nothing.


    A moment passed, then two. Sweat formed on Colm¡¯s brow, and three seconds that felt like minutes later, his arms gave out and the tip of the greatsword fell to the grassy plain below him. He released the breath he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding and breathed in a fresh gulp of air.


    ¡°Mm,¡± Brash mumbled with a nod of his head while he stared at the tip of the sword in the dirt. ¡°We¡¯re goin¡¯ to need to work on that, but you¡¯ll never manage to build the strength without mastering your core, first.¡±


    ¡°My core?¡±


    Brash slapped his own belly in response. ¡°Your core! The center of your body, the point that determines your balance, grounds you and yet leaves you free to move.¡±


    ¡°I was straining those muscles, trying to stay upright,¡± Colm said.


    ¡°You weren¡¯t breathing, though, and your muscles gave out. A fighter¡¯s muscles need the air just as much as your lungs, and a Direman¡¯s muscles need it even more. They key is not to breath that air into your chest, but to fill your stomach with it.¡±


    Colm watched as Brash took a deep breath, and his stomach pushed outward as if he were drinking an entire keg of ale. His belly deflated as he let out the air in a fast whoosh from his mouth. ¡°Your chest will covet the air, hoarding it until you release it back into the world. Your core, however, will share it with the rest of your body - but only if you keep your breathing steady. If you hold it in, there¡¯s nothing left to share after a few seconds, as you experienced yourself.¡±


    Colm tried breathing the air into his stomach, but only succeeded in pushing his belly out with his chest at the same time.


    Brash chuckled, but not unkindly. ¡°It takes some gettin¡¯ used to, but begin thinking about your breathing from now on. By the time we get to Cantford, you should be able to breath with your core without your chest heaving in and out. In the meantime, do me a favor and turn your body so that your right side faces me, and your left faces away.¡±


    Colm shifted back on his left foot and turned as instructed, keeping the tip of his greatsword resting on the grass and now only gripping the hilt with his right hand.


    ¡°Good. Are you familiar with the term ¡®leverage¡¯?¡± Brash asked.


    Only that the stinking, toothless fat man said he had it, over me. ¡°Not really. I¡¯ve heard the word, but¡­¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. You¡¯re going to need leverage to lift that sword now, with only one hand, and manage to hold it out in front of you. If you try now, you won¡¯t last long.¡±


    Colm started to lift the sword but only managed to bring it a few inches off the ground before he had to let the tip fall back onto the grass.


    ¡°Instead of holding the hilt in the same place you would if I let you use both hands, grip it closer to the guard. Let the hilt rest under your forearm, and the pommel come up just shy of your elbow.¡±


    Colm shifted his hand higher on the hilt and brought the rest of it under his arm as Brash instructed.


    ¡°Good. Now as you lift, the hilt and pommel are going to want to move higher than the blade, since most of the weight is out in front of you. Since your arm is in the way, they won¡¯t be able to, and so the blade won¡¯t be able to fall. Your hand, which before was a pivot-point, will now provide a sturdier hold. Your arm provides leverage, you see.¡±


    Colm started to lift his arm once more, and found that the large man was right. He still couldn¡¯t hold the sword out in front of him with his arm outstretched, but as he lifted he realized that if he pushed down with his elbow and forearm, the rest of the sword moved up, the opposite of his downward force.


    In this way, with a slightly bent arm, he managed to bring the point level with the ground and keep it pointed at Brash for a handful of seconds before it started to shake with his exertion.


    ¡°Good! Go ahead and rest your arm now,¡± Brash ordered.


    Colm smiled as he lowered the tip of his greatsword to the ground once more, amazed that he¡¯d accomplished such a feat.


    ¡°When will I be strong enough to use this fully with one hand?¡±


    Brash laughed. ¡°Likely never! You will, however, thrust forward with it one-handed, before pulling it back into both hands for your other strikes. That is why you¡¯ll want to familiarize yourself with swiftly movin¡¯ your arm over top of the hilt as you push the blade forward. It will increase your range, and let you maintain solid footing.


    ¡°Speakin¡¯ of footing,¡± he continued, ¡°let¡¯s bring your other hand back into play and learn how to arc the blade horizontally in front of you. Slowly though, so slow that your arms burn.¡±

 6: Act I - Drorin Countryside cont...

    Leona¡¯s foot came down softly on the dry leaves, and she did her best to ease her weight onto it to minimize the crunch as she stepped forward. A short half-mile walk had brought her to the woods she¡¯d seen from the road, and there were rabbit tracks leading into it.


    The past four years had taught Leona much. Nights without food unless she caught it herself had instilled in her an appreciation for the subtlety of her own movement that she had never considered when practicing competitive archery. Being part of a group that expected her to return with game taught her the discipline of unhurried movements, and to calm herself when the excitement of the hunt threatened to give her position away.


    The tracks at her feet were fresh, perhaps only minutes old. She nocked an arrow in her bow, then inched forward to brace herself against a tree. As concealed as she could be, given the lack of brush around her, she leaned to peek beyond the trunk.


    Two rabbits were digging at something in the small clearing.


    Slowly now, breathe. Leona raised her bow and pulled back on the string. She breathed silently in and held the air inside to steady her aim.


    A crash of twigs and leaves behind her startled her and she let loose the arrow only to watch it fly well clear of its target. The rabbits bolted.


    Shite!


    Leona turned around in time to see a wolf leave its crouch to lunge at her.


    Without thinking she raised her bow in front of her as the wolf jumped, and managed to shove it between the beast¡¯s jaws. White and purple foam splashed from the beast¡¯s mouth as it connected, and she twisted with the bow to push the wolf off to the side while it was still in the air. She slammed its body into the trunk of the tree she¡¯d been leaning against and it released the bow from its jaws as it fell to the forest floor.


    The wolf was larger than a normal one, but didn¡¯t have the blackened eyes of a dire beast.


    ¡°What are you, simply rabid?¡± Leona said frantically as she backed up. She reached for another arrow as she did, but her fingers wouldn¡¯t cooperate.


    The wolf regained its footing and growled, stalking forward as more foam dripped from its jaws. Its eyes were focused where a rabid beast¡¯s were wild.


    Work, damn you! She shouted silently at her fingers, willing them to grab the arrow, but they fumbled once more.


    The wolf leapt.


    She ducked and rolled to the right, coming to her feet at the same time the wolf turned toward her after landing. Leona threw her bow to the ground and pulled her shortsword from the sheath at her side.


    ¡°Come on then, you mangy mutt,¡± she muttered angrily. Without giving it a chance to regain the initiative, she shot forward on one leg and thrust out with her blade. The wolf leapt to the side, deftly avoiding her strike, and nipped at her.


    The leather forearm bracer she wore protected her, but she knew if it had been a real bite, the beast¡¯s teeth would have penetrated deep.


    With a yell that was part fearful scream and part rage-filled roar, Leona pushed her forearm further, hard against the wolf¡¯s mouth, causing it to lose its footing. As its legs scrambled to maintain contact with the ground behind it, she shoved her blade between its ribs.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    A yelp followed by a whimper, and the wolf¡¯s jaw slackened. She freed her arm from its teeth as the body slumped to the forest floor. The blood on her sword as she wiped it on the grass looked darker than usual.


    |||||||||||||||||


    ¡°Brash has a story for each one of those scars, actually,¡± Rel said.


    ¡°Will you tell us one?¡± Colm asked, looking across the campfire at Brash as Rel worked to build the flames. The sun was beginning to set and hints of shadow played across the man¡¯s lined face.


    ¡°Some other time, perhaps. It looks like our dinner has arrived,¡± Brash replied.


    They turned where Brash was looking to see Leona pulling a large carcass behind her as what looked to be two rabbits tied to her belt bounced against her hip with each step.


    ¡°This big guy attacked me in the woods unprovoked,¡± Leona announced as she reached the edge of their makeshift camp. ¡°Something is wrong with it.¡±


    She dropped the legs and they landed with a thud in the short grass. ¡°Foaming at the mouth, he was, but not normal. It was white and purple, not white and yellow like a rabid animal would have.¡±


    Durnst walked over and then crouched next to the wolf¡¯s body. Using the tip of his dagger he peeled back the beast¡¯s lips to reveal purpled gums and larger than usual teeth.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a dire beast, either,¡± Leona continued. ¡°Its eyes were clear, focused. It seemed rabid but¡­ not, at the same time. Its blood is too dark.¡±


    ¡°Some unknown disease, then? We¡¯d best burn the body. Rel, would you mind setting a pyre over there?¡± Durnst asked as he pointed between the tree line and their camp. Rel rose without protest, taking some of the firewood with him.


    ¡°I¡¯ll bring the body, then,¡± Brash said as he heaved himself to his feet.


    ¡°What about you, Leona?¡± Colm asked her as she pulled the rabbits from her belt. ¡°Do you have any stories like Brash?¡±


    Leona smiled slightly as she sat down and set the rabbits before her, then pulled out her knife to begin skinning them. ¡°I led a boring life in a boring city with boring people. My story would be boring.¡±


    Colm sat down next to her, and pulled out his own knife to help. ¡°I¡¯d listen, anyway.¡±


    ¡°Gods above, you are far too sweet a kid to be hanging around us,¡± she replied, and reached a hand up to ruffle his hair.


    ¡°I can¡¯t be that much younger than you,¡± he replied with a smile, but didn¡¯t squirm out of the way. Outside of training, none of the Diremen ever touched him in a way that hurt, and he found himself growing to like human contact.


    ¡°Perhaps, perhaps not,¡± she said mysteriously. ¡°But the years you¡¯re about to experience are going to completely change who you were, to form the basis of who you will be. These particular years mean more than others, especially when comparing age.¡±


    Colm didn¡¯t understand but didn¡¯t want to appear dimwitted in front of his friend, and so he simply nodded and continued skinning the rabbit.


    The stew was boiling by the time Rel and Brash returned, smoke rising from behind them.


    ¡°I¡¯m telling you man, the ladies in Cantford are going to be exotic! It¡¯s the closest city to the Yareswen border and a port town, after all. It must be a melting pot of cultures. I can¡¯t wait to see what they¡¯re like! Spend a few nights in town, a different bed each night¡­¡± Rel trailed off as they each grabbed a bowl from Leona.


    Brash snorted as Leona rolled her eyes.


    Durnst had pulled dried vegetables from the back of the wagon to add to the pot, but had otherwise sat silently staring at the fire until dinner was ready. Life seemed to return to him as he accepted a bowl from Leona and spooned a portion of the stew into it.


    They continued to make small talk about Cantford while they ate, though none but Durnst had ever visited the town. Colm wondered about the ocean, as he chewed. They¡¯d passed a river on their journey, and he had a visual concept for a lake, but water as far as the eye could see? The sky was the only thing he could think of that could be blue in every direction.


    Sighing contentedly as he finished his stew, Colm looked up to see Durnst grab Leona¡¯s arm as she reached to set her bowl down. The man stared at her bracer intently. Colm followed his gaze.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure the bite pierced no skin?¡± Durnst asked.


    Colm saw Leona nod out of the corner of his eye.


    The indentations from the wolf¡¯s teeth in the leather of Leona¡¯s bracer had stained the leather around it the same purple as the foam she¡¯d described spilling from its mouth.

 7: Act I - Cantford

    ¡°This has to be the smallest port town in all of Drorin. In all of the world, for that matter,¡± Rel said, his shoulders slumping as shared the carriage seat with Leona. ¡°There¡¯s likely not more than forty-five families here.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a seasonal town,¡± Durnst stated as he walked alongside them. ¡°We¡¯re about a month early for the influx of trade, what with Glacier Pass is still thawing. Notice how the ground all around the city, even as far as the woodcutter¡¯s mill at the edge of the forest, lacks grass?¡±


    The two of them nodded.


    ¡°Tents and makeshift shelters get propped up, and for about six months Cantford will seem almost as large as the capital, though without any of the tall buildings,¡± Durnst finished.


    ¡°So there¡¯s a chance for culture, yet,¡± Rel mused.


    ¡°You mean there¡¯s a variety of women,¡± Leona said to correct him, and smirked.


    ¡°Obviously. What greater measure of culture is there?¡± The question sounded as innocent as he could make it.


    Leona bit back her retort. She¡¯d grown to understand that while Rel was a womanizer, he was also open and clear about it. She¡¯d begrudgingly given him a small measure of respect when he¡¯d proved to remember the name of every single woman with whom he¡¯d shared a bed. The list was long, but he knew and could describe each of them. That, at least, was not something she could fathom any of the men she¡¯d known in Yareswen ever being capable of.


    Any other anger she may have had about his proclivities was mollified by the countless times she¡¯d seen the genuine smiles on women Rel had been with on previous trips upon their next visit to their towns.


    She looked down from the carriage¡¯s other side to see Colm¡¯s jaw go slack as he took in the ocean beyond the town below them. The boy¡¯s open fascination with new things warmed her heart. She¡¯d been an only child, but this Colm was fast becoming a little brother to her. While she loved her parents, this group felt more like what family should than hers ever had.


    ¡°Pretty, isn¡¯t it? The way the sun glistens off the water as though it were made of glass,¡± she said softly.


    Colm simply nodded as he walked alongside her, eyes fixed on the water.


    ¡°I can barely tell where the water ends and the sky begins,¡± he finally said.


    As they approached the town, Leona considered their purpose in coming here. ¡°Do you really think there¡¯s a large enough population that we¡¯ll find work here, Durnst?¡±


    ¡°From what we overheard at the inn the other night, something is amiss. What would trouble a small port town off-season, if not a dire beast? It seems as good a lead as any. Plus the Oafish Ox has decent beds and an incredible stew they keep simmering for days on end.¡±


    Leona thought she heard Colm¡¯s stomach grumble from where she sat. The boy¡¯s appetite was bottomless. ¡°Well, I for one wont turn down a soft bed,¡± she said with a sigh.


    They were greeted with smiles and nods as they entered the town. The wooden palisades were short and beginning to rot. Leona figured Brash could reach the top of them flatfooted if he tried.


    The inn was the tallest building in town, standing three stories high. A smattering of other buildings had second stories, which gave a little bit of texture to the town¡¯s skyline as the sun began to sink behind the it.


    As they approached the Oafish Ox Inn Leona took notice on the state of disrepair the town was in.


    ¡°Time has not been kind to Cantford, it seems,¡± she heard Durnst mutter softly.


    The others remained quiet, though their heads turned to take it all in. Leona agreed, and found it hard to believe that a town with thriving trade for half the year wouldn¡¯t be capable of maintaining a better state of repair.


    As they reached the Oafish Ox¡¯s entrance, she could see that one of the two chains upon which the wooden sign hung was almost rusted away. The placard which showed a fat ox knocking over a farmer would likely snap free of the chain within the year.


    Leona and Rel left it to the others to stable the horses and instead entered the Oafish Ox to barter rooms and food.


    Rel swept a bow to each of the barmaids they past on their way through the busy dining area to the bar, greeting each with a formal ¡°M¡¯Lady¡±. Leona rolled her eyes but didn¡¯t comment as she heard them each respond with a giggle.


    ¡°Greetings,¡± Leona said to the innkeeper as she reached the bar. His beard was trimmed to short mutton chops, giving red color to his otherwise pale cheeks. While not grotesque, a jolly beer belly bulged over his belt. A testament to the quality of the tavern¡¯s ale, she supposed.


    ¡°Well met,¡± he returned, wiping a tankard dry with a dirty cloth. ¡°What can I do for ya?¡±


    ¡°Three rooms, if you please, and I¡¯ve heard tell that your stew is quite famous.¡± At the sight of the cloth Leona suddenly wondered whether she should trust Durnst¡¯s judgment about the food.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡°We¡¯ve only got two rooms open at the moment,¡± he responded with a sigh. ¡°A few of the farmers out near the woods have shacked up here these past few nights due to the monster that¡¯s been said to be prowlin¡¯ these parts.¡±


    Leona tried to stifle her own sigh, disappointed she wouldn¡¯t have her own room for the evening. She forced a smile instead. ¡°Two will be fine, with meals this evening.¡±


    The man nodded, accepting her coin and sliding her two keys. ¡°Third floor, last two rooms on the right. Meals will be ready by sundown.¡±


    She nodded and turned to hand a key to Rel, only to find him leaned up against the far wall of the tavern where he engaged two local women in small talk. With a shake of her head, she left to find the others.


    |||||||||||||||||


    Colm shoveled another heaping pile of the mystery meat, vegetables, and thick broth into his mouth as he listened to Durnst and Brash speak with one of the local farmers who had fled his land and brought his family to the Oafish Ox two days prior. It was the third such interview they¡¯d held since the food arrived.


    ¡°Took three of my cattle just three days ago, it did,¡± he heard the stout man say. ¡°An¡¯ that¡¯s after I lost my two bulls! I¡¯ve none left to breed, and with the other cattle I¡¯m losing, there¡¯s no way we can keep up the farm.¡±


    The man sniffled and frowned as Colm took another bite.


    ¡°And it¡¯s a bear, you say?¡± Durnst asked as he set his tankard down.


    ¡°Biggest damned bear you¡¯ve ever seen, I tell you. I don¡¯t have no better word for it, no sir.¡±


    ¡°A Dire Bear, then,¡± Brash mused. ¡°Haven¡¯t taken down one of those yet. Are there many bears ¡®round these parts?¡±


    ¡°Not like this one, but we sight ¡®em now and then sure. This one though, it¡¯s at least twice the size of any bear we¡¯ve ever seen!¡±


    Colm had never seen a bear. Nevertheless he imagined a large, rotund mass of dark brown hair and muscle that he instinctively knew was a bear. He shook his head at a memory he didn¡¯t remember having and reached for his ale. Looking up he watched Rel spinning in dance with the barmaid that had brought them the delicious stew. The innkeeper¡¯s daughter, he realized, and wondered if Rel would have them all kicked out before morning.


    ¡°Thank you for your time, kind sir. You can be certain we will begin our search at your farm on the morrow,¡± Durnst said as he rose.


    Colm watched him shake the man¡¯s hand, then rejoin them at the table as the farmer walked back to his family.


    ¡°I suppose it was only a matter of time before whatever is turning these beasts into Dires found a bear,¡± Brash said. ¡°Wish we knew what in the nine hells was causing it.¡±


    Durnst remained silent as he took another swig of ale, then sighed.


    ¡°Could it be a plague?¡± Colm asked as he sadly dropped his spoon into his now empty bowl.


    ¡°As good a guess as any. They¡¯ve been around since my grandfather¡¯s time, but they were very rare back then. It wasn¡¯t until I joined the k¡ª well, it wasn¡¯t until I was an adult that a courageous few like Durnst here began to hunt them. These past four years though¡­ It seems as if the pace of sightings is increasing,¡± Brash responded.


    Durnst nodded. ¡°It appears so. I¡¯ve hunted more dire beasts these past few years than the entire decade prior.¡±


    Leona returned and took the seat across from Colm.


    ¡°It¡¯s the same with the others,¡± she said as she snatched Colm¡¯s ale and drained the last of it.


    ¡°Hey!¡± he protested, but let it go as he saw her wave the tankard in the air and a server approached to refill it. She took one more drink and passed it back to him. ¡°Get your own,¡± he grumbled without malice as he shielded it close to him on the table.


    Leona chuckled but quickly turned serious.


    ¡°It¡¯s bad. They¡¯re going to have a rough time of it, even if we act fast. Trade won¡¯t arrive for another month or so, and apparently the taxes have gone up every year since the new king took control.¡±


    ¡°Explains the state of everything,¡± Brash said as he picked at a splinter of wood poking up from the table.


    ¡°It gets worse. They¡¯ve heard tell of a soldiers being sent to the towns at the far reaches of the region to collect a new harvest tax for the capital. Nobody knows what to make of it yet, but this town can¡¯t afford much more.¡±


    She sighed again. ¡°But we can do our part. We can set off in the morning and find this beast, earn our keep, and bring a little peace to Cantford.¡±


    ¡°Cheers to that,¡± Colm said as he drained the last of his ale. His belly was full and a warm fuzziness buzzed in his head. He enjoyed the light and carefree feeling. Whatever worldly concerns plagued the town of Cantford, he was alive, well, and ready to help. Tomorrow.


    |||||||||||||||||


    Leona watched Brash as he finished lashing the pack containing their rations to the side of his horse when she saw the innkeeper approaching.


    ¡°You¡¯re really going to track the beast down, then?¡± he asked as he came to a stop before her.


    ¡°That¡¯s what we do¡±, she replied.


    ¡°I know the bounty probably ain¡¯t what you lot are used to, so I¡¯ll also refund your lodging if you manage to kill the monster and give these folk back their livelihoods.¡± The innkeeper looked back through the open doors of the inn where the farmers and other locals sat, slumped dejectedly.


    ¡°Durnst explained to me that this town has thriving trade, due to your port, for part of the year. The reward your mayor is offering isn¡¯t the reason the town is showing such signs of wear and tear, is it?¡±


    The innkeepers eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. ¡°No miss, well that is to say, not entirely. It¡¯s true that the amount offered is all we¡¯ve been able to bring together, but it¡¯s because of the taxes.¡±


    She heard Brash and the others pause their preparations on the street behind her to listen in. When it was obvious she wasn¡¯t going to speak further, the bearded man continued.


    ¡°We¡¯re overtaxed, we are. Each year the taxes are raised, every year since the last king died, gods rest him, and now we¡¯ve got taxes on crops that weren¡¯t never taxed before. I even hear two towns over the soldiers have come to cart ¡®em away at harvest time, and it¡¯s getting tough. If they come our way, we¡¯ll be rationing this winter for certain.¡±


    Leona thought she heard Brash growl softly as Durnst stepped forward to join the conversation by her side.


    ¡°Worry not, innkeep,¡± Durnst said. ¡°The size of the bounty is irrelevant in this case. We will find the beast and bring it down. You just be sure to have that stew simmering away when we return.¡±


    The older man smiled and clasped his hands before him in gratitude. ¡°That I will, good sir! You lot take care. I¡¯ve heard stories about these beasts that keep me up at night, I have.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve a bit of skill when it comes to these things, don¡¯t you fret. Thank you for the meal and rooms,¡± Leona said as she bid him goodbye. She turned to face the rest of her group.


    ¡°We all set, then?¡± she asked.


    They nodded, and Durnst waved his hand forward. It was time to hunt.


    |||||||||||||||||