The Hunter's Gambit

by Nicholas McIntire

  “I’ve explained this to you before, Jonas. You can’t give him too much information or he might make a mistake. You can’t risk that.”

  “I know that. But I’m starting to feel something. Something…unusual.”

  Aya pursed her lips, “It’s called compassion.”

  Jonas ignored her. “He’s forming a bond with me, but there’s something else happening that I understand even less.”

  She frowned, “The other player?”

  Jonas stared at her, “He’s getting stronger. I thought you were the one in command of all the answers. You’re the prophet, I’m just trying to understand which end is up.”

  Aya sighed, “You’re right, it’s just that forming a bond based purely on proximity is rare, to say nothing of a bifurcated bond. And at any rate, you still have to invoke it. Assuming, that is, that your young man has any interest in staying here. Or that he even arrives.”

  “As I said before, you’re the prophet. And he’s not my ‘young man’, not yet. But stranger still is the way these bonds are manifesting.”

  Aya frowned. Each Magus and Knight pair shared a bond, forged through the Magus' link to the Archanium. From the Knight the Magus received the strength and endurance to access the Archanium for extended periods. As to what the Knight received, that varied depending on the power and nature of the Magus.

  Most Magi could only enhance their Knight’s present abilities. Aya knew that Ilyana’s Marrik possessed the strength of a handful of men. Her own Raefan was gifted with stamina. He could train, or if needed fight, for days without tiring. Yet both of these were fairly common gifts for an Archanium Knight. Of the Magi in the Voralla, only Hade’s Knight, Vadim, benefited in an unusual way and no one, not even Sammul, had been able to understand why.

  Hade was not a powerful Magus and yet for some reason that defied explanation, Vadim had developed an immunity to fire. It was the most extreme example of a benefit transmuted through the bond any of them had ever seen.

  At least, until now.

  “Time.” Jonas said quietly. “It’s becoming more pronounced the closer he gets. I’m not really sure how it works. I know he doesn’t understand it. But in any event, he’s managed to get from the Southern Plain to Seil Wood in three days. I don’t know how, but he seems to be drawing from my connection to the Archanium.”

  “And that of the other player.” Aya reminded him. “If there is another Magus forming a bond with the boy, there’s no telling what kind of power he’s able to access, even if he doesn’t understand it.” She paused a moment, tapping her lip. “Do you think it will last?” she asked, interest burning deep in her eyes.

  He frowned, “Gods, how should I know? I don’t see how it can. I imagine it takes an enormous amount of energy to draw like this. You said yourself that once the bond becomes permanent, it will change. If he chooses to bond me or the ‘other player’, as you call him, doesn’t it have to change?”

  Aya nodded, both confirming Jonas' supposition while wondering what that change would be. It was rare that a Magus and a Knight formed a bond through instinct, and even when they did it usually happened very quickly. Two bonds forming simultaneously between three people who’d never met was bordering on the impossible.

  Yet for that bond to be of such a peculiar nature spoke not only of both Magi’s raw power, but also of the sort of man Aleksei Drago seemed to be. Whoever this boy was, there was obviously more to him than Jonas had divined.

  “When will he arrive in Kalinor?” she asked.

  “If he arrives in Kalinor? I don’t know, why don’t you tell me? You’re the prophet.”

  Aya’s hand absently ran through the streak of white in her hair. Her path through the Archanium had taken a slightly different turn than the rest of Sammul’s flock, and as a result she had developed a rare talent for prophecy. It was weak, true, but so far Jonas had found many of her revelations to be quite helpful.

  “Now you know,” she reminded him gently, “that if it relates to you directly I won’t be able to help you.”

  He nodded his understanding. Prophecy was based in a tenuous region of the Archanium and prophets guarded their knowledge of the future closely. It was quite a chore to be a prophet, as Aya’s discretion was at times ultimately important in ensuring key events occurred at the appropriate times. And often such events were doomed to fail if the primary players were aware how things were supposed to unfold.

  She closed her eyes, letting herself slip into the swirl of color and emotion that was the Archanium and searching for the spell she needed. It took several minutes to sift through the river of wards and enchantments that clouded her vision, but she finally caught sight of the clear blue slipstream of prophecy.

  Images tumbled through her mind and as she caught each one she examined it, taking note for future reference before moving on to the next. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, but eventually she opened her eyes to find Jonas still across from her, his eyes excited.

  “You’ve found something?”

  She nodded, “But I don’t know how much good it will do you.”

  “Anything you can tell me is more than I knew before.”

  “There’s a decision he has to make. The fork is fast approaching. If he chooses you, he’ll enter through the East Gate. From the Wood. He’ll be lost. He’s not used to cities, and he’ll need a sign.”

  Jonas smirked. “That sounds like Aleksei.”

  “Does that help you?”

  “Only if he chooses to come to Kalinor, but yes, I suppose it does help somewhat. With what you’ve just told me, I can probably find him before he gets to Market Street. Once he gets there it’ll be much more difficult to pick him out of the crowd, so I’d like to find him before then.”

  She smiled, “Well, I wish you luck.”

  “Did you get any sense of time from the visions?”

  She shook her head, “A few days at the most, but nothing more specific than that. I would imagine he’ll arrive by tomorrow or the day after, but that’s purely conjecture.”

  Jonas nodded, “Thank you for that.”

  “Glad to be of service, Highness.” she chuckled.

  He shuddered, “Please, not you too. I only accept that title from my enemies and my inferiors, and you are neither.”

  Aya watched him as he walked her to the door. He was obviously deep in thought, his face troubled.

  She wondered what was going through his head. The man was more than a little secretive when it came to specifics, especially when it meant revealing his own strengths and limits.

  And though he might tell her the nature of a thing, even something as personal as the bond he was forming with his potential Knight, it would be unlike him to go into any detail on the matter.

  Another idea struck her. What if Aleksei Drago didn’t want to be Jonas' Knight? What if he chose the other path? The deeper echoes along that timeline were clothed in shadows and smoke as far as she could tell. What if he reached Kalinor and decided he didn’t want this life?

  Being an Archanium Knight wasn’t too difficult these days, not since the civil war, but something told her that being Jonas' Knight would be very different indeed, if for no other reason than because he had a habit of throwing himself into power struggles. That, and the Prince’s penchant for making powerful enemies.

  Aya was fairly certain that if Jonas had not taken up Ilyana’s cause, her friend would have been banished to Dalita or Yrinu already. His willingness to fight for his beliefs was one of the qualities that made Jonas a good prince, and a good friend. But she imagined it would also make life as his Bonded an extremely long exercise in frustration.

  She wondered if Aleksei Drago was up to the task.

  CHAPTER 9

  Half-Blood, Hunter

  ALEKSEI ROSE WITH the sun, feeling remarkably refreshed. He wondered if it was the comfort of being in a place he’d once called home, or merely a product of true rest following ex
treme exhaustion.

  The specter of the dream hung in faded tatters at the edge of his consciousness, though he could hardly recall it as he lay in the hammock, staring up at the sunlit leaves that formed the ceiling.

  Today he would be among the Ri-Vhan for the first time in fifteen years, and he felt sick with worry. How many things would he see that might stir memories he’d shuttered? How many places would bring back his mother’s face, her smile? He shivered and squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the images from his mind.

  Seeing the village in the darkness had been one thing. The homes had all looked the same, the lines of distinction blurred to the point of obscurity. Nothing leapt out to make him remember.

  But something told him today would not be as blissfully vacant.

  He rolled out of his hammock and had to search for a moment before he located his shirt, lying in a pile on the floor near the doorway. As he pulled it over his head, Aleksei wondered if Roux might have some clothes he could borrow. His badly needed washing and he had no intention of meeting the man from the dream smelling like a barn.

  Aleksei retraced his steps, walking back into the circular room where he and Roux had spoken the night before. He found his cousin seated near the fire, eating his breakfast.

  “You’re up early.” Roux noted as Aleksei joined him.

  “Am I?”

  Roux nodded, “I remember you sleeping till noon. Now you rise with the sun?”

  Aleksei shrugged, “Habit from the farm. It’s cooler in the morning and I get more work done.”

  Roux considered for a long moment, chewing the warm, flat bread that was the staple of the Ri-Vhan diet. “What will you do today?”

  Aleksei frowned as a thought leapt into his mind. “I don’t know. I thought I might go hunting, if there’s a party going out. I’ve been on a horse for three days. I need to stretch my legs a bit.”

  Roux smiled, “There is indeed a hunting party going out today. And I have no doubt they’d be happy to accommodate you.”

  “What are you boys doing up so early?” Theo muttered from the doorway, “It’s not healthy to rise before midmorning, didn’t you know?”

  Aleksei chuckled. It didn’t matter if Roux was the Ri-Hnon, no more than if he’d been the King of Ilyar, he was still a ‘boy’ to Theo.

  “Father,” Roux said lightly, “if I spent as much time as you trying to be ‘healthy’ I’d sleep half my life away.”

  “Perhaps the respite would calm that flippant tongue of yours.” Theo grunted, walking off towards the kitchen muttering under his breath.

  Aleksei glanced at his cousin, “Is he always like that in the morning?”

  Roux laughed, “He’s gotten worse the last few years. Ever since his joints started aching, he’s become an irascible old man. Not that I can really blame him. If I was stuck in the village all the time, I’d complain too.”

  Aleksei nodded. He’d always had the freedom to move about as he willed, though he’d never thought of it as a luxury. Even if he had spent the last fifteen years on a farm, the option had always been there to walk as far as he cared in any direction.

  But the village had definite boundaries, and for those poor souls whose bodies had given out on them or who simply lacked the talent for Darting, the village could quickly become a very confining place.

  Roux rose and dusted the crumbs of his breakfast into the hearth, “Well, enough of this idleness. The hunters will be leaving soon and I wouldn’t want you to miss it and be trapped up here as well.”

  Aleksei stood, “Do you have a bow I can borrow? Da and I only had one between us and I decided he’d need it more than I would.”

  “Of course.” Roux’s mouth suddenly quirked into a smile, “You mean you don’t want to hunt with your pretty Legionnaire blade? I can’t imagine why not.”

  Aleksei chuckled, following his cousin into a small storeroom. Roux rummaged through stack after stack of bundled hides, furs, and packages of root flour. After a few moments he emerged victorious, holding a short bow and quiver aloft as he stepped back out of the maze he had created.

  “The party will supply you with arrows. This string is fresh so you shouldn’t need any spares, but if you do the other hunters ought to have plenty.”

  Aleksei smiled, inexplicably thrilled to hold the bow. Was it simply because, unlike the sword, he knew how to use this weapon? Or that he would be hunting deer today, not men?

  “Thank you.” he said, almost overwhelmed with emotion. It was a bloody bow! What was wrong with him?

  A flash of dream shot through his mind, standing over a dead boar, his arrow protruding from its breast by only a hand-span, its blood streaked across his naked torso.

  Aleksei blinked and the image vanished in a swirl of color.

  “Come on,” Roux grunted, “if we stand around forever, we’ll end up like Father.”

  Roux stepped out of the storeroom, waiting for Aleksei to follow before heading to the front door. “We’ll be back later.” he called into the recesses of the house.

  There was no response.

  “He’s sulking.” Roux muttered, walking out into the daylight.

  Aleksei followed and stopped in his tracks, his suspicions confirmed. The village in sunlight was a very different place.

  It was still early but here and there Ri-Vhan bustled about their daily chores, carrying soiled clothes, piles of flat bread, or strings of wriggling fish. Roux led him down into the village center, where a small group of men had already congregated.

  Upon seeing Roux, the men dropped to their knees, heads bowed. Aleksei glanced at his cousin, who just rolled his eyes.

  “Gentlemen,” Roux called, “this is Aleksei Drago. He is my cousin, visiting from the Southern Plain. He would like to help you with your hunt, if you have no objections.” As Roux said the last part, he made it clear that there had better not be any objections.

  The men of the hunt glanced at each other before a bright-eyed man with thick black hair looked up, “We would be honored to have his company, Ri-Hnon.”

  Roux smiled, “Excellent. I’ll leave him to you, then. Try not to mistake him for a stag.”

  The men chuckled and rose to their feet as Roux gave Aleksei a friendly pat on the shoulder and walked away. A twinge of anxiety blossomed in Aleksei’s gut.

  The black-haired man who had spoken stepped forward and offered his hand, “Aleksei, was it? I’m Luc, Hunt Master of the Ri-Vhan.” His face fell slightly, “It’s only an honorary.”

  Aleksei smiled and shook Luc’s hand warmly, “I’m sure it’s well deserved.”

  The other men guffawed. They knew all to well how much difference a real Hunter would have made among their ranks and all of them, Luc especially, felt a bit silly parading around calling themselves a hunting party when traditionally it had been made up of the Hunter alone, followed by six men who gathered the kills.

  Aleksei introduced himself to the rest of the party and then set about helping them secure their gear. Of the eight gathered, only five, six with Aleksei, actually hunted. The other two carried great rucksacks strapped to their shoulders. They followed the party, gathering the kills.

  Luc explained that, though they usually set out for deer, more often than not they had to substitute rabbits and other smaller game.

  “The deer of the Wood are extremely agile.” he said ruefully, “And generally there’s only enough light in the day to shoot down one, two if we’re fortunate.”

  Aleksei nodded, “How many do you set out for?”

  Luc shrugged, “Three or four is what we’d like to bring home, but I don’t think I’ve lived a day when the hunting party brought down more than two.” He hefted his quiver, bristling with arrows fletched in green feathers. “How many arrows did you say you needed?”

  Aleksei suppressed a shudder. He felt the now-familiar shift settle around him.

  “You want four deer?” he asked softly.

  Luc fro
wned, “In a dream life? I’d say four.”

  “Then I’ll need four arrows.”

  Luc regarded him with surprise and the men who’d heard Aleksei looked cross. He suppressed a wince. He knew he looked indescribably arrogant at the moment. He certainly felt that way. But Aleksei couldn’t deny that something inside of him knew he needed four arrows for four kills.

  The image of the dead boar flashed again through his mind and Aleksei thought he might be sick.

  Luc handed him four arrows, the warmth gone from his eyes. “Good luck.” he said woodenly.

  Aleksei managed a smile, “Thanks.”

  “Luc?” one of the men asked. “Are we ready?”

  Luc nodded, still holding Aleksei’s gaze, “Aye, we are lads. Let’s hope that our added company will get us that second deer today.”

  The other men chuckled, comforted in the new spin on an old joke. They seemed just a bit uneasy and slightly more insulted by the farm boy. Aleksei didn’t blame them, but how could he explain his unexpected arrogance away?

  A hand clapped across his shoulder and the world melted around him in a blink.

  Roux studied his cousin, even as he was taken down to the forest floor. His suspicions were growing, but he had no real evidence yet, only a thought tickling the back of his mind.

  “A half-blood.” Roux muttered in wonder. Gods, how many times had those words tumbled through his mind since Aleksei’s sudden appearance at his door the night before? How many nightmares had wrestled him in the darkness?

  A light gust of wind from the south mingled with the sunlit pools surrounding him and in that he heard the voice of the Wood. I am well pleased, Ri-Hnon. He is true.

  Roux suppressed a shudder.

  There were two types of people born into Ri-Vhan society. By far the most prominent were Treedarters, men and women who used the Archanium to move from place to place in flash of blinding speed.

  The only problem was that on occasion, a Treedarter would release the Archanium too quickly. When that happened, there was nothing to save them from the long fall to the forest floor. Such deaths were a fact of life among the Ri-Vhan.