The Hunter's Gambit

by Nicholas McIntire

  “I’m terribly sorry, ma’am. Are you alright?”

  She looked up with a kindly smile and Aleksei blinked in surprise.

  “Why, Aleksei Drago.” she said with a laugh, “Mokosh be praised. What are you doing back in Voskrin?”

  “Mother Margareta?” he asked in disbelief. “I…I’ve come to see Da.”

  She nodded knowingly as he helped her to her feet, “Ah yes. Henry has spoken of little else than your letters, you know.”

  “Has he?” Aleksei asked with an unconscious smile. “Surely there’s more to talk about down here than my ramblings from Kalinor.”

  Mother Margareta snorted, “Hardly. But where are my manners? Do come in. Come in and have some tea.”

  “It’s most kind of you to offer, Mother, but I….”

  She arched an eyebrow, then turned and started walking slowly towards her house, whistling a tuneless tune as she went.

  Aleksei sighed, unable to suppress the smile the old woman always brought out in him, and led Agriphon behind her. No matter how high he rose in the rest of the world, Aleksei supposed he would always have to mind the word of Mother Margareta.

  And somehow, that comforted him greatly.

  He tied his horse up outside, then walked in and had a seat at her table. She bustled about her tiny kitchen, humming to herself as she put the kettle on.

  “So tell me, Aleksei, what else brings you down south?”

  He frowned, “I beg your pardon?”

  She turned to him, hands on her hips, “Oh, come now, boy. You haven’t returned in a year, and you expect me to believe that you rode over six hundred leagues on a horse worth more than Henry’s farm for a friendly ‘hello’? Let’s not patronize one another, sweetheart.”

  Aleksei found it was all he could do to not stare at her. Could this possibly be the same well-meaning priestess who brought them cider pie every Festival and prattled on about her little dogs for hours when she walked over to the farm to bless their fields? He had never thought her particularly frank.

  “You know, dear, I was made Town Elder at last year’s Festival? Yes, yes old Viktor Blok finally kicked off, so as the oldest person in town, I guess that made me a shoe-in.” She chuckled to herself. “Age doesn’t always mean wisdom, I’m afraid, but I do my best.”

  Aleksei smiled, “I think you’re a perfect choice, Mother.”

  She nodded, “That’s kind of you, dear. But please, do call me Margaret. You’re hardly a boy anymore.” She turned and rummaged about in a cabinet next to the stove. “Though I must say I was distressed to receive this.”

  She tossed a rolled piece of parchment onto the table. Aleksei knew what it was without having to open it.

  “I didn’t realize they’d send one to Voskrin.” he said quietly.

  “Frankly, I’m surprised they had the eggs to do it. The very idea that a boy’s own hometown would turn against him on the word of Northern cityfolk. Preposterous.”

  Aleksei frowned, “Has the town seen it?”

  She laughed, “No, why should they? So this ‘Lord’ Perron fellow can sully your name with your friends and neighbors? I hardly think so.”

  With a snap the parchment burst into flame. Aleksei jumped back in his chair, but Mother Margareta simply chuckled and brushed away the soot. He stared at her in surprise. The woman was a Magus?

  She took a seat and leaned forward, as though nothing had happened. “Aleksei, my boy, you are a hero to the people of this town. Generations of hopes and dreams are realized in what you do every day, believe me.

  “You make the young people of this village think of a world outside their cabbage patches, and that can only be a good thing. Now tell me, where’s the good in spreading the words of evil men?”

  “But it’s true.” Aleksei said, somewhat more forcefully than he meant. He was surprised to find himself fighting back tears. “I murdered Lord Malak.”

  “And I’m sure he deserved it, dear.” she said offhandedly, pouring herself a cup of tea.

  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He committed treason, but he didn’t deserve to die like that.” he managed.

  Margareta fixed him with a stern look, her steely blue eyes seeming to piece him to the core. “Aleksei, I am a firm believer that good men commit actions for a reason. They’re rarely prone to accidents. If this Lord Malak died at your hand, then I have to believe that he deserved it, because I’ve only ever known you to be a good man. Do you understand?”

  He thought for a moment, then finally nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Aleksei decided it was best to allow Mother Margareta her illusions. “Mother…Margaret, I have to say, I’m confused. I never realized you were a Magus.”

  She scoffed, “Surely you did. What did you think I was doing in your fields every winter? Making some inane prayer and jinxing your rabbits? I take my duties very seriously, boy. I wouldn’t be much of a servant to the Goddess if I didn’t. Now then, there are some official matters I need to bring to your attention.”

  Aleksei frowned, “What do you mean?”

  Mother Margareta shrugged, “As the the Town Elder, I have some issues that I need you to see to. As the Lord Captain of Ilyar, I believe it is your duty to preserve justice and peace in the realm. Am I correct?”

  Aleksei nodded, wondering why he even bothered to be startled by this woman. “What’s the problem?”

  For the first time since they’d met in the road, she looked a little unsure, “It’s about Pyotr.”

  Aleksei frowned, “Pyotr Krovel?”

  “Pyotr married Katherine Bondar last year.”

  Aleksei blinked, “Pyotr and Katherine are married?”

  Mother Margareta chuckled, “I can understand your surprise. I said the same thing, believe me.” She considered for a moment before adding, “I think she grew tired of waiting for you to come sweep her off her feet.”

  In spite of himself, Aleksei was surprised, “Me? But Margaret, surely she never thought we were….”

  She shrugged, “Girls can make some mighty big leaps in their heads when it suits them. Anyhow, they’ve been married for a few months now. I never thought too much of the match, I have to admit, but I did think better of Pyotr than this.”

  Aleksei sat up straighter, “What has he done?”

  She sighed, “He’s gone, Aleksei.”

  Aleksei’s confusion deepened, “Gone? I’m not sure I understand….”

  “Let me clarify for you. Pyotr has left Voskrin. He has abandoned his wife, without more than a word, to join the militia.”

  Aleksei felt a chill sweep through him, “And what militia would that be?”

  Her face grew darker, “The one that Bertrand Perron has been amassing during the last two months. I sent a message to you, but I suppose you’ve not been in Kalinor of late.”

  Aleksei shook his head. Perron was raising a militia in the South? What could the man possibly mean by it?

  And then it all clicked in his head. Every sign was there, staring him in the face. And he’d been too naïve to see it.

  Malak was not the only one to commit treason, it seemed. And yet even as this thought occurred to him, the even more shocking realization that he could do nothing to alter this course of events struck him. He was a murderer. Why would the Queen listen to him? Why would anyone listen to him?

  “Thank you for telling me this.” he said finally, coming to his feet. “I think I’ll call on Katherine, if you don’t think it’s too late in the day.”

  She smiled warmly, “I think she’d appreciate a friendly face at the moment. She’s been lonelier than she cares to admit, especially with her brothers spending all their time on your father’s farm.”

  He nodded, then rose and stepped out into the cool evening air. He left Agriphon at the post for the moment, walking purposefully across the village square, towards Pyotr Thatcher’s house.

  There was a light on in the kitchen, but the
rest of the house was completely dark. He knocked gently and stepped back onto the stoop.

  “Is that you, Mother?” Catherine’s voice came from the other side. It sounded weak and broken.

  “Katherine?”

  The door swung open and there stood Katherine Bondar, looking just as he remembered her but for the puffiness around her tear-swollen eyes. At present she looked like she was staring at a ghost.

  “Great gods.” she whispered. “What…what are you doing here?”

  “Mother Margareta told me about Pyotr.” Aleksei said gently. “I wanted to see how you were.”

  Katherine wiped her eyes self-consciously, “I’m…well, I suppose. As well as can be expected given the circumstances.”

  Aleksei nodded, “May I come in?”

  Katherine stiffened, “I’d prefer you didn’t, actually. Everything’s just a mess right now and, to be honest, I’m not too interested in having company.”

  Aleksei nodded his understanding, though he was a little surprised at her behavior towards him. This was no longer the rebellious sprite of a girl who had goaded him into hunting excursions against the will of her father.

  And this was no love-sick slip of a girl. Before him stood a woman. Part of him, though, mourned his friend.

  “Well, if you’d like to talk, I’ll be at my Da’s for a little bit. I’d be happy to lend an ear.”

  She managed a smile, “Thank you for your concern, Aleksei, but I’ve survived without you so far.”

  Aleksei bowed his head slightly. He understood the dismissal for what it was. “Good night, Katherine.”

  “Good night, Lord Captain.”

  And then she closed the door.

  Aleksei walked slowly away from the house, thoughts and memories warring in his head and his heart. It hurt to be treated like a stranger by someone who had once been so close, and yet could he blame her? It was hardly as though he’d been the best friend since his departure the previous year.

  Upon reaching his warhorse he found that Agriphon was anxious to get back on the road, which was surprising given how hard they’d ridden the last several days. Then again, Agriphon was young and full of fire. Aleksei knew that if he ever had to ride a horse into battle, it would have to be this one.

  The moon bathed the road in a ghostly radiance, allowing Aleksei to ride the remaining leagues to the farm at a good pace. He reached it feeling tired and yet somewhat hopeful.

  Upon first inspection, the farm looked just as it had when he’d left. The barn had a new roof, but beyond that not much had changed. He rode Agriphon into the barn and stabled him next to the Bondar boys’ horses.

  “Try to enjoy your rest.” he muttered, patting the stallion’s flank as he walked out of the barn.

  As he approached the farmhouse, Aleksei was glad to hear the sounds of laughter from within. It was good to know that Henry was getting on well without him.

  Aleksei considered knocking, but thought better of it and simply opened the door. The laughter stopped as the three men inside turned to regard the newcomer.

  Their shocked silence lasted only a heartbeat, and then Aleksei was surrounded by such a cacophony of warm, jubilant voices that it left him stunned.

  He was home.

  Sweat rolled down the hard angles of Aleksei’s face as he hurled the last forkfuls of hay into the loft. He grabbed the short length of gray toweling hanging from his belt and wiped his face, stepping out of the barn and back into the brilliance of the Harvest sun.

  A year of training had left him stronger than he’d ever been, and he was still amazed by how much easier chores on the farm had become. For their part, the Bondar brothers couldn’t but help stare at the bizarre, writhing black of the Mantle displayed so prominently across his broad, tanned shoulders.

  Neither of them had yet summoned the courage to ask about it, but he could hear them whispering to one another when they thought he wasn’t listening. There was little doubt in anyone’s mind that the Aleksei Drago who’d left one year ago was a very different man from the one who had returned.

  Henry, for his part, seemed so overjoyed to see his son that he hardly took note of either the Mantle or the changes that had taken place in his son. The most distressing change to Henry was the loss of Aleksei’s Plains accent, but even that returned within two days’ time.

  “Boys!” Henry called from the house, “Supper’s on.”

  Aleksei smiled as he pulled his shirt off the hook in the barn door and made his way back towards the house. After a year of life in Kalinor, it was an enormous relief to return to simple farm work.

  He met Kiriel and Ruslan on their way in from the field. While the brothers were cordial and pleasant, Aleksei knew he made them apprehensive.

  It was odd that he should be the one intimidating them, as his whole life they’d been the biggest men he’d known. They’d even roughed him up on rare occasions.

  He recalled thinking that men like Kiriel and Ruslan had nothing to fear. Never in a hundred years would he have thought himself capable of inspiring the same feelings in them.

  They mostly passed their time with him by asking questions about Kalinor. And was it really true that he was bonded to the Prince? And was the Princess really as beautiful as they’d heard? And had the Queen herself been the one to knight him?

  And while Aleksei was only too happy to oblige them with the truth, and his answers to their questions about Jonas had brought color to both men’s cheeks to say the least, he couldn’t help but feel that his answers only served to distance himself from these people.

  Only his father seemed completely unimpressed with what Aleksei had spent the last year doing. He was proud, of that he left little doubt, but it never changed the fact that this was his farm. And on his farm everyone followed his orders, whether you were the son of a cooper or the Lord Captain himself.

  The day before, Henry had scolded Aleksei for tying the hay up incorrectly. Kiriel and Ruslan had watched in horror, not believing that anyone would scold the Lord Captain of Her Majesty’s Legions.

  Their horror became surprise when Aleksei merely apologized and set about retying the bales. What they didn’t understand was that for the first time in what to Aleksei seemed a lifetime, he wasn’t the one giving the orders. His father had given him the greatest possible gift in allowing him to relinquish command, if only for a few days.

  That night, while Kiriel and Ruslan were cleaning and closing up the barn, Henry handed Aleksei a glass of warm apple brandy and sat with him before the fire.

  “So, do you mind if I ask you about it?” his father said quietly.

  Aleksei frowned, “Da?”

  Henry nodded at Aleksei’s shoulders, “Those…marks. I assume there’s a story behind them?”

  “I don’t know that I’d call it a story. The Wood called me to Her, and sent me on a proper Hunt. A great fire-breathing serpent, just a hatchling, something called a Salamander?

  “Thank the gods I couldn’t see a thing or I doubt I’d have even held my ground, much less manage the kill the blasted thing.” Aleksei chuckled at that last bit, but noticed that his father was looking increasingly confused. He forged ahead rather than risk an explanation, “As a reward, the Wood gifted me with this. She called it the Hunter’s Mantle.”

  “She gifted this to you?” Henry asked, perplexed.

  Aleksei nodded. “I’m still not entirely sure what it does. I’ve only tapped into its abilities once. I killed a man, and it restored me.”

  Henry considered a moment before responding, “Then it is powerful magic indeed. Wood magic is legendary for its abilities to grant life, but to drain it away…I never heard of such a thing in all my time with the Ri-Vhan.” He considered a moment, “What does Jonas make of it?”

  “I’m not sure yet. We’ve had a hard time finding anything about it at all, and even what we have found is so old it might not even matter anymore. He doesn’t even know I killed Lord Malak
yet.”

  “Are they going to come after you?” Henry asked after a long silence.

  Aleksei sighed, “I can’t say. Probably, but I didn’t tell anyone where I was headed. My greatest fear is that they seek out Jonas to get to me.

  “I’ve been listening to our bond, and he hasn’t been happy, but he hasn’t been in danger either. This is the worst possible time to be so far from one another.”

  Aleksei took a breath as the depth of his predicament fell across him, “How do I…handle the idea that I’d enter the Aftershadow, and pull him along without him knowing it was even happening?”

  Henry studied his son’s face for a long moment, studied the tears brimming in the corners of his son’s coyote-gold eyes.

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  Aleksei inhaled, then nodded firmly, “More than anything, Da. And he loves me. Our bond makes our connection incredibly intimate as it is, but this, this is unlike anything either of us has ever felt.”

  Henry set his brandy down and stood. Aleksei abashedly stood and Henry stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his son, “Love is a curious thing, Son.” he whispered after pressing a kiss into the boy’s golden hair.

  “I’ve always believed you were destined to accomplish greater things in your life. Your mother felt the same way. We never imagined you’d be the Lord Captain, but we always hoped you’d be this happy. Jonas is a good man.

  “The first time I saw him, standing in my doorway, I could tell how nervous he was. He was so relieved to see the Princess, and yet it was you who had him on pins and needles. The gods only know what the boy would have done if you’d refused him. I’ve never seen a man so desperate, or so relieved, so elated, when you said ‘yes’.”

  Aleksei looked away from his father, trying to keep the tears back. This was the last conversation he’d expected. At the very least, Henry wasn’t quizzing him on the particulars about what happened in his bedchamber.

  The same couldn’t be said for the Bondar brothers, who were more than a little curious about how a farm boy from Voskrin had found his way into the Prince’s sheets. There were details Aleksei refused to provide, of course, but he had hinted at enough to set both men’s faces aflame, if nothing else than to make them uncomfortable enough to cease with their endless queries.