The Hunter's Gambit

by Nicholas McIntire

  He could feel himself change, could feel his fingers elongate as his legs shortened and his hair flared out into the feathers that spilled across his body. Each second dragged on in excruciating detail, each image cutting deeply and filling him with the exquisite pain of the shift. The transformation took mere moments, but to Jonas it seemed hours.

  He stepped onto the window ledge, flexing his wings and stretching his neck. He hoped to the gods that this form would be fast enough to reach Aleksei before the man moved somewhere else.

  With an experimental flap of his wings, Jonas launched himself into the air over Kalinor, circling higher and higher on a thermal until he was gliding hundreds of paces above the Palace. Then, with a single-minded determination, he turned south.

  He caught their scent in the small hours of the morning. The wind was blowing to the southeast, and while his nose pricked at the unusual smells, they weren’t completely unfamiliar.

  Traders from Fanj had come through with all manner of culinary exoticism and cutlery when he was a boy. He recalled their spice carts and the bright and vibrant scents they carried. He also recalled tales of Fanja slaver tribes disguised as peddlers to lure the unwary and alone.

  By the time he could hear the carts on the wind he had already woken Dash. Tamara, however, was proving to be a very different sort of problem.

  “We have to leave now.” Aleksei whispered, shaking her shoulder. “There are people coming, but I think we can get to my farm by dawn.”

  “Your farm?” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes in the darkness.

  Aleksei sat back on his haunches. He suddenly realized he’d never told her where they were headed. “It’s south of Voskrin,” he said softly, “and the safest place I can think of right now. We both need proper rest and a hot meal more than anything. Especially you.”

  “There are people heading this way.” he said pointedly when he saw her frown. “They could be harmless peddlers, but they could also be much worse. It’s my job to make sure no harm comes to you. Right now getting you out of the open is more important than anything else.”

  “Your job?” she asked softly.

  Aleksei blushed, glad that the darkness hid his embarrassment. Who did he think he was? He was talking like some hero from the storybooks when he was actually more concerned about their possible capture. He could fight off a few brigands, but a slaver party was something else entirely. “There’s no point in catching arrows if you end up in a slaver’s cart.” he whispered.

  Aleksei ran his fingers through Dash’s shaggy mane, brushing out the worst of the tangles and grit and ignoring her frown. He cursed himself for not grabbing Dash’s tack. But even without a saddle or supplies, at least he was used to riding bareback. He doubted Tamara would find it a pleasant experience in her silk riding gown.

  He lifted her easily onto the horse’s back, climbing up behind her. The same understanding of pathways that had filled his mind in Seil Wood once again flickered across his vision and Aleksei guided Dash onto the road, careful to avoid any badger holes that had been dug into the glade paths.

  Once on the road, Aleksei set the horse at a trot to the south. At that pace, they would reach Voskrin in an hour or two, and the farm perhaps an hour after that. That was assuming, of course, nothing peculiar happened.

  Aleksei wondered if they would suddenly find themselves in an Yrini mist maze by mistake, but the landscape passed just as he expected. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when Dash pulled onto the lane that led to the barn.

  He smiled at seeing the farm again. Only a few days ago it had felt as though he would never return and now here he was. His heart swelled at the familiar slope of the barn, the rough angles of his father’s house, so wildly disparate from the pristine glory of Kalinor.

  But it wasn’t the same.

  Aleksei had wondered if he could ever become that simple farm boy again and as he rode down the lane the truth sank in. This was not his life, not any longer. This world belonged to a boy who only half-recalled the land beyond the fairground, whose idea of adventure was hunting squirrels and rabbits in the glades with Katherine Bondar. This was not the life of a Hunter. Or an Archanium Knight.

  And it never could be.

  Dash slowed to a walk as they approached the barn and Aleksei slid off the horse’s back, leading him into the cool darkness. He helped Tamara down, then stabled the horse and turned towards the farmhouse.

  Gods, but his father was going to be surprised when he walked through the door. He grinned at the thought of Henry’s face when he walked into the kitchen, the Princess of Ilyar right behind him. Would his father believe him?

  Tamara caught up to him and looked apprehensively at the house, “He won’t be angry if we wake him, will he?”

  Aleksei chuckled, “I doubt it. I am worried he won’t believe who you are, though.”

  Tamara seemed shocked by the idea.

  Aleksei practically ran the last few paces to the door. He opened it softly, not wanting to frighten his father if he was still asleep, and stepped into the house. The hearth was burning low, but the house was filled with the warm scent of smoking pine. He smiled fondly and walked into the kitchen.

  Henry sat at the table, his simple breakfast of apples and bread laid out before him. Aleksei noticed that the bread knife lay close at hand, just in case of trouble.

  “Is that you, Mother Margareta? Surely you aren’t so lonely this early in the morning.”

  “Da?”

  Henry turned sharply, his eyes widening.

  “Aleksei?” he whispered, coming to his feet and rushing forward to embrace his son. “Gods, but it’s good to see you.”

  He held Aleksei at arms length, “How are you? Where have you been? Why are you back so soon?”

  Aleksei laughed under the barrage of questions. “I’m fine, Da. But the rest might take a bit of explaining.”

  Henry nodded slowly, looking beyond his son and noticing Tamara for the first time.

  “Da,” Aleksei said, “this is Tamara.”

  He thought it best of leave out her title until he had a chance to explain.

  Henry gave his son a curious look and bowed in a surprisingly courtly fashion, “Henry Drago, Miss.”

  “Well met, Master Drago.” Tamara said politely.

  “Da, perhaps we should sit down. We need to talk about the last few days.”

  Henry nodded cautiously, returning to his seat and folding his hands patiently.

  Aleksei thought for a long moment, wondering how to best explain the last five days to his father. He finally settled on the most direct approach he could think of. “Da, the night before last I left Kalinor.”

  Henry stared at him. Aleksei didn’t wait for the obvious questions. “I reached Keiv-Alon two days after I left the farm, and Seil Wood the day after. I spent some time with the Ri-Vhan.”

  He saw pain lance through Henry’s eyes, “Roux Devaan is the Ri-Hnon, Da.” Henry sat forward, interest apparently overcoming both his skepticism and the pain of his past.

  Aleksei quickly related everything that had happened since he’d reached the Ri-Vhan, glossing over most of the things Jonas had told him. Telling Henry that he was the Hunter was enough shock for one day as it was.

  “We’ve been riding since the dark hours of the morning.” Aleksei finished, nodding to Tamara.

  Henry stared at his son, then glanced at the princess. Her identity didn’t really surprise him more than anything else he’d heard that morning. His son was the Hunter? And possibly Archanium Knight to the Prince? Yet even those revelations were minor perplexities in a storm of confusion. How had Aleksei traveled so far so fast? How was that even possible? Part of him wanted to deny the truth of what Aleksei said, but he knew his son. Aleksei was never one to make up tall tales.

  And there was something else about his son, something he hadn’t been able to place until now.

  The boy had grown up.
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br />   A man sat across from him now, his coyote eyes burning with experience, with knowledge that Henry found unnerving. Aleksei had grown into a man in a handful of days, and a dangerous man at that. And Henry would weep for the sweet boy he’d sent away, weep for what the world had done to his son in such a short time, and for what might still lie in wait.

  Still, he found himself rejoicing for the man his son had become. His heart swelled with pride at the thought of Aleksei putting the pieces together, of his son riding knowingly into danger and rescuing Tamara from assassins. While the circumstances were strange, the unmistakable mark of courage was evident.

  He recalled the dream he’d had the night before he’d sent his son away. He recalled the visions the man had shown him, and while many had yet to come to pass, he knew deep in his heart that he had made the right decision. It was both affirming and heartbreaking. Gods, what trials awaited this boy?

  “You must be exhausted!” he said, forcing himself from his thoughts and recalling his manners. “Highness, I regret that I can only offer you the humble accommodations of a peasant, but you are free to partake in whatever comfort you can find.”

  She smiled, “Thank you, Master Drago. I must confess that even a rough pallet would be a vast improvement from sleeping on the ground.”

  “I think we can manage a sight better than a pallet, Highness.” Henry said with a laugh, “If you’ll allow me to lead the way?”

  She followed Henry from the room, offering Aleksei a demure smile. Aleksei followed as Henry did his level best to extol the virtues of the farmhouse while apologizing for the lack of palace comforts. At the top of the narrow staircase he directed Tamara to his room.

  “I’ll sleep downstairs tonight.” he said with a polite nod over her objections. Henry could see her desperation at the sight of a proper bed, even one as lackluster as his own. “I can keep watch in case anyone has tracked you down here.”

  Aleksei nodded and Henry had to fight to keep his emotions in check. Aleksei had never been so confident, but Henry knew he was glimpsing the future in his son’s simple gesture. There was a presence there. New, yes, but fierce. Commanding. Resolute. Words he would never have ascribed to his son one week past. Pride and concern battled for control even as he wished Tamara pleasant dreams and closed the door.

  Aleksei stood only a pace away, his hand lightly resting on the statue of the Goddess Mokosh. Aleksei glanced up, his golden eyes catching Henry’s. For a moment, those eyes gripped Henry’s heart in his chest. The piercing glare of a predator.

  And then Henry saw the glimmer of tears in the morning sun. The spell shattered as he stepped forward and swept his son into his arms, feeling Aleksei’s body convulse in silent sobs, tears seeping into his shirt as he held his son. He held Aleksei tightly, wondering how long this might last before his son was swept away yet again.

  His throat tightened, but Henry pushed away his tears. There would be time for that later, but after everything Aleksei had endured, his son had more than earned the chance to cry on his father’s shoulder.

  His sweet boy was still in there.

  And rather than be overjoyed, Henry recognized the terrible truth. The Aleksei he’d raised hadn’t been crushed by the influence of nature, or magic, or fear. He had endured every challenge, had faced dangers that no man should have to confront. Aleksei had learned so much about life beyond the simple world Henry had created for him, and in such a small time.

  And he had done it without gambling his humanity. Whether Aleksei was the Ri-Vhan Hunter or the Prince’s bloody Bonded or even just a big lad from a small farm, his tears told Henry unequivocally that he was still the same boy Henry raised. A boy, a man, he was deeply proud of.

  Henry held his son until Aleksei gathered himself. The boy stood back, shoulders broad as an ox, and wiped his eyes on a dusty shirtsleeve. “I’m sorry, Da. I’m exhausted. I’m starving, but I can hardly stay standing. I’ve just been so scared.”

  Henry saw the tears welling up again. He offered his son a smile, lest he break himself, and gripped the boy’s shoulder tightly. “There’s no shame in being afraid.” he said gently. “But courage, Son, is feeling that fear, letting it hammer your guts to ribbons, and still doing what’s right. That’s the measure of a hero. And that’s what you’ve shown yourself to be.”

  He pulled Aleksei close again, pressing a kiss into the boy’s filthy flaxen hair. “But even heroes need rest.” he whispered. “Even heroes need to feel safe now and then.”

  Aleksei hugged him so tightly Henry thought his ribs might shatter. And then the boy let go and stepped into his cabinet of a room, collapsing onto his cramped hay-stuffed mattress. Henry stood in the doorway as the sun climbed the sky, watching his son’s sleeping form and finally allowing himself the luxury of tears.

  “Sleep well, Son.” he whispered finally. “You’re safe now.”

  That I could keep you safe forever.

  Jonas soared over the myriad farms and villages of the Southern Plain. He thanked the gods he could sense Aleksei through their tentative bond; he would never have found the man on his own.

  With every flap of his wings he grew that much closer. And the faster he reached Aleksei, the faster they could find Tamara. If she’s still alive. He thought bitterly. Fast though he was, it had still taken several days to reach the Southern Plain.

  His sense of Aleksei suddenly shifted and Jonas dropped into a dive, catching sight of the tiny farmstead only moments before he landed with a flutter on the grass. He hopped towards the farmhouse before briefly touching the Archanium, returning to his human form.

  Jonas walked up to the farmhouse and paused, not sure if he should walk in or knock. A moment later the door opened and Henry Drago stood before him, the man’s face both pleased and confused at once.

  “Highness.” he said, inclining his head.

  “Master Drago.” Jonas said pleasantly. “I was hoping to speak to your son.”

  “He’s in the barn right now. Won’t you come in? I’m sure he’ll be finished in a few minutes.”

  Jonas put on a smile, “I’m afraid it’s a matter of some urgency.”

  “Jonas?”

  His eyes jerked past Henry’s sizable form and settled on the bedraggled form of his cousin.

  “Tamara?”

  He pushed past Henry and rushed forward to embrace her, hugging her tightly to him.

  “I feared the worst when we found the others.” he breathed.

  “It was horrible, Jonas! And so sudden. One moment we were riding along peacefully, and then next….” She shuddered with memory and he saw something new in her face. She had seen things, experienced things for which she had no preparation. There was a deep sadness that had been absent days before.

  “What happened? How….” he couldn’t finish, but they both knew what he’d almost said. How had she survived?

  “Aleksei rode out of nowhere and pulled me from my horse. The arrows…missed us. I think he caught one. And then we were on the Southern Plain.” Her voice was as mystified as her face.

  Jonas shook his head. Aleksei saved her? How? How had he gotten to her so fast? How had he known? Even if he’d left Kalinor in the dead of night, he shouldn’t have been able to reach the Sulaq Hills in time for the attack.

  “I need to speak with him.” he said to himself.

  As he started away, Tamara halted him. “He said he’s made up his mind.”

  Jonas felt panic surge through him, “He said that? Did he tell you his decision?”

  She shook her head, “He said it was between the two of you. He’s been through so much, Jonas. Please be kind to him?”

  Jonas sighed, offering every assurance he could think of. He knew Henry was listening to every word he said, but there was only so much he would allow either of them. He had found quite a bit to say in his flight across Ilyar, but they were not his intended audience.

  Tamara offered him a gentle kiss on the chee
k. “He’s in the barn.”

  Jonas turned and started back out the door. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He stepped cautiously towards the barn, his mind racing as he walked, cursing the Harvest sun for the sweat that slicked his chestnut hair black and soaked his shirt. He’d wondered if Aleksei had left to think, or perhaps as a way of giving his answer.

  More than fearing abandonment, Jonas had worried that Aleksei had decided to seek out the other player, that this mysterious Magus would offer Aleksei something Jonas could not. He hated mystery, and the other player certainly possessed that in spades.

  But now he realized it had actually been something quite different. Part of him was angry with Aleksei for not alerting him to the danger Tamara was in, but he also wondered if he would have gotten there any faster for it. After the toll his flight had taken, the time, he knew the answer. From Tamara’s own account, Aleksei had barely made it in time as it was.

  Jonas reached the entrance to the barn. Aleksei sat amidst an untidy pile of hay, methodically binding armfuls into neat bales. He didn’t even look up when Jonas' shadow fell across him.

  “I wondered how long it would take you to follow me.” Aleksei said calmly.

  “Well, I was actually going to ask if you could help me track Tamara. But you seem to have accomplished that without my help.”

  Aleksei glanced up at the Magus, “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to tell you. I was terrified that if I waited a moment longer, I’d be too late. I almost was.”

  Jonas smiled, “So I’ve heard. And I don’t know how to thank you. Kalinor is frantic with worry, wondering what manner of villains have kidnapped or killed the Princess. No one suspected that someone had actually saved her.”

  Aleksei shook his head, “It’s a marvel that I did, let me tell you.” He explained about the men in the Wood and then the voices he’d heard in Kalinor. Jonas' face darkened.

  “Men in Kalinor plotted this?”