Song (The Manhunters Book 1)

by Jesse Teller

  Smear shook his head as if he thought it a bad idea, and he turned to go.

  “Be careful. Get word to me if they are on your trail. We will come up with something,” he said.

  Rayph walked away, fear clenched tight around his heart as he fought to steady his breath and clear his mind.

  He couldn’t take his horse. Beast was well known throughout the kingdom as his mount. No matter the disguise, she would give him away. He toyed for an instant with the idea of disguising her, then he tossed it away with the bad ideas he had had in the past. He would have to travel in other ways.

  The street was deserted, save the dogs that ran in packs in this section of town and the occasional cloaked figure streaming across the narrow roads, seeking shadows to get lost in. Rayph ducked into the failing building and waited in the shadows.

  Ten days he had been traveling. Ten days from city to city seeking knowledge of his hunters. The roads to each town were peopled with bounties. The pubs filled with men and women of questionable ethics, all plumbing the cities he was known to frequent for any sign of him. Word of his wanted status traveled faster than he did. Magic users had to be propagating his crimes. They thought he had killed one of them. They all thought he had crossed some line. And the circles that once heralded him now cowered in fear and prayed for him to be brought to justice.

  The darkness outside the building was complete. The shadows seemed empty, and he turned his feet to the gut of the building and the meeting room of the Spawned.

  The four sat before him, their cowls pulled down to mask their faces. They carried no weapons and spoke not a word until he took a knee and lowered his head. “I lay myself at the mercy of this court, the only authority I recognize in this land.”

  The staff of Medey struck the floor, and he spoke. “We are not your authority, Rayph. You say that every time you come to see us here, and I have let it go until now. But the fact, whether you choose to admit it to yourself or not, is that while you stand on the soil of Lorinth, you struggle under the authority of the crown. We are all bound by the crown and its decrees. We are all subject to its laws and tempers. You can no more recognize us as your authority than you can command Phomax to step from the throne.”

  Medey stood, pulling back his hood and uncovering his painted face. “I have been charged with hunting you down. And if it is the will of this council, I will leave here with you in chains.”

  “I will go peacefully. And our king will die within four days,” Rayph said.

  Soother pulled back her hood to reveal a wizened countenance and delicate features. “I will ask you this question but one time. I ask it as a member of this court and a friend. Did you kill The Lady Twilight?”

  “I did not.”

  “There were witnesses that say you unleashed a power they could not name before she died. Your voice filled the world and the city moments before her death. Witnesses say that when your voice reached its climax, a blast of epic proportions rocked the pub and destroyed the lady utterly.”

  “These accounts are all correct. I unleashed my aura on her in anger. I shouted at her moments before her death and humiliated her completely, betraying her as a charlatan and a fraud. I was cruel to her, and I made sure all the men below, who had come with her, saw it. I am ashamed, as I was that night, at my actions against her. But I did not kill the Lady of Twilight. She was slain by Black Cowl, who framed me for her murder in a masterstroke of plotting. I underestimated him. He is in fact a powerful, deviant mind as dangerous as me, or worse.”

  Rayph looked up at Medey, meeting his friend in the eyes and shaking his head. “I did not kill that woman. I can produce no witness to this fact. I can show you no proof whatsoever. In order for my innocence to be believed, it will take a show of trust on your part. If I have not earned that trust, then I will submit to your arrest of me and allow myself to be taken in. If I have, then I will use my considerable power to bring the man responsible for this murder to justice.

  “Again I throw myself at the mercy of this council. I submit to your judgment,” Rayph said.

  Medey stood. “It is my duty to bring him in. I am honor bound by this order and cannot use my own judgment to override such a command. I will not bet against Rayph though, so I refrain from my vote. I will, as well, submit to the judgments of my peers. Tell me to bring him in, and I will do so. Tell me to make a farce of my hunt for him, and I will do that, too. For over 100,000 years, the will of my fathers and mothers has been swayed by this council. I see no reason for changing that now.” Medey stepped away from his throne, joining Rayph before the council.

  Soother struck the floor with her staff, and the room went silent. She rapped it again before she spoke. “The last time we gathered here, we gave Rayph the power to stand above all judgment, save that of The Rider.” At the mention of the entity, Rayph felt his sphincter tighten, and he broke out in horrible trembling. “If we find him guilty of this crime, then I would suggest we resort to that power for his demise.”

  Rayph nearly cried out loud. He stifled his fear, beating it back with practiced discipline and resolve.

  Dorf spoke with a nod to Rayph. “I have known Rayph since I was a boy. He taught me what it is to wield great power, and he was here to counsel me in times when I needed a friend. He has been nothing but honest with me since the day I met him, and I have never believed these charges, not for one instant. Murder is not the tool of the just, and justice has long been a lesson this man has taught to me. If asked my vote, I move to expunge Rayph of these charges as ludicrous and aid him in any way possible for the return of his good name.”

  Rayph nodded back and turned to Fir-Lak. The thin man looked Rayph in the face, then shook his head. “I will have nothing to do with damning this man. I second the motion placed by Dorf and will add that we aid him at all points with bringing this foul beast to justice for killing that little wizardess. She was a fool but a servant of the crown and, as such, she deserves justice.”

  Two votes brought him clear of the council’s judgment but something in him still needed to hear Soother’s thoughts. “I will not doubt such a man as Rayph,” she said. “I clear him of charges and ask mighty Medey to give a show of following his order, but to let Rayph alone as much as possible.”

  Ivoryfist smiled when Medey patted him on the back, and he turned to embrace the rugged warrior. “I will keep you busy, but I will not humiliate you.”

  “And I will harass you to no end. I must make a good show of it.”

  “You have loosed every bounty hunter in the kingdom upon me. I think I will be busy these next few months.”

  “Where will you go?” Dorf asked.

  “Song,” Rayph said.

  “Song? Are you a fool or just insane? Song will be bursting with hunters seeking you,” Medey said.

  “The king is still in danger. Julius Kriss still walks that city. And I believe I am the only one who can stop him, the only one in a position to protect the king.”

  “Leave the king’s safety to Dran. Take your hide and run. Find a place to hide out. Go to Deria or Ebu,” Dorf said.

  “I cannot. I am in too deep now. I will continue my quest for Julius Kriss’s demise. It is all there is to do.”

  Rayph rose and exited the council room. He went out into the trials of the city streets, where he had his first fight with his first band of hunters. He left them seriously wounded. Their weapons, he took. Their pearls, he destroyed. And with them groaning in a pile of soreness and screams, he turned his horse toward Song. The flowers would open in four days. He and his men had to be there. There was an enemy to save, and a villain to chase down.

  The Pit

  “Tell her I’m fine and not to worry,” Konnon said.

  “I’m not even going to tell her I have seen you. She will ask too many questions. Bree is not stupid. If you make me come up with a story, she will see through it,” Glyss said. “You have to be quick and you have to be perfect. This will not be easy. Your plan is sound. Execut
ion will be a problem. Rayph is as dangerous as the men who will hunt him.”

  “Barrigan is in town. He was here already. That means Artiss,” Konnon said. “That is who I am looking for. No one else will do.”

  “We have been sitting in that inn at the eastern gate watching crew after crew walk into this town. They are all dangerous. They are the best bounty hunters this nation has at its command. This bounty has brought out the most rotten, most diabolical men and women in the country. You have to be ready to deal with all of them,” Glyss said. “You have a lot of enemies in this city.”

  “Yeah, I know. That is why you are going to take that money you were talking about earlier and get it to Ixon. They will welcome you. That medicine will keep her disease at bay for years. But in order to cure her, we will need a lot more. Thousands to get her fixed,” Konnon said.

  “Then what are we doing here?” Glyss said.

  Konnon took off his jacket and handed it to Glyss. He had sold his horse to buy the chain mail shirt he pulled over his head. He settled under its weight and grinned at the feeling of armor on his body again.

  “Been a while?” Glyss asked.

  “A day or two,” Konnon said.

  “You’re going to need that,” Glyss said.

  “Get going. I’m going to go pick a fight,” Konnon said.

  The Devil’s Tooth was his destination, but when he reached the dangerous section of town, he found the Tooth had been sold and the new owner had tried to class the place up. He named his bar The Pit, and as Konnon looked at the bat wing doors and the ratted out porch, he groaned. Mold and shabby paint covered rotted boards over the window. The wall had been fixed where a person had been thrown through it. Konnon cursed as he walked through the doors and stopped just inside to see who had come.

  His eye was pulled immediately to the tall lean figure in the corner of the room. He was a good-looking man but hate made him ugly. His hair he wore black and cut low to his collar. His face was chestnut brown. Konnon had never seen it any other way. They said that even when Julius Kriss had been shut away for months in prison he still wore that tan, though his father was human and from the north lands. Legend said Julius’s skin had been tanned by the fires of Hell. There was no coming back from that. Beside the man sat the horrifying Slinter Kriss. Her glistening gray skin was mottled and vulgar, her tentacles draped from her neck in thin cords that covered her breasts. They writhed and boiled as she sat staring at him, and Konnon felt his sphincter tighten as he walked in.

  Konnon had not known Julius was in town. He had to pay tribute. If Julius was here, he owned this bar. He owned everything he laid his eye on.

  Konnon walked past the teaming bar to the back corner where Julius waited for him. He stood before the deadly assassin, his skin crawling, holding his self control tight. He could not walk away or run. Konnon had to keep his reputation up. This was no time to appear weak.

  “The Rowdy One,” Julius said. “Here in my town. I never thought to see you again. I’m not sure if I am happy to lay eye to you or furious about how things were left with us.” He drew his steaming, hissing blade and laid it on the table before him. The blade whined as the table smoked and bubbled. “What do you think, Love?” Julius said, turning to Slinter. “Do I hold a grudge?”

  Slinter reached to her jawline and pulled a tentacle from below her neck. She snapped her jaws closed and grinned. “I’ve always loved this one,” she said. Her tail came up from behind her and Konnon could not swallow. He fought to keep his control. But as he stared at the bladed tip of the appendage, he nearly fainted. “Let me stroke him. Then we will send him on his way without harm.”

  “What do you think, Konnon? Do you crave the touch of my devastating wife?”

  Konnon stared at the slit eyes and the spear shaped face glistening before him, and he gritted his teeth and stomped around the table. He bent before her and kissed her full on the mouth. She reached her hands up both sides of his face and gripped him with splayed fingers.

  His lips burned. The spot on his cheeks where her hands touched him sizzled. Her forked tongue entered his mouth, searing away the flesh of his tongue, and Konnon fought for control of his crippling fear and his horrid pain.

  The acidic saliva and sweat of the demoness burned his face and mouth and Julius laughed. Slinter pulled away and Konnon nearly sicked up on her when he saw the perverted grin on her cruel face.

  “Konnon, my dear, you are free to wander my city with ease. I assume you are here hunting your old weapon’s instructor?” Julius said.

  “I have owed that man a death for a long time,” Konnon said. “This is just my day coming at last.”

  “Well, you are not alone in your pursuit,” Julius said. He dropped into a chair and gripped a passing serving wench. She screamed and he wrapped her in a tight embrace on his lap until she stopped fighting. “There are many and more bounty hunters in this town to take out the elusive and deadly Rayph Ivoryfist. How will you and your brother fare against him alone, I wonder?”

  “My brother has left town. I am looking for a crew to join.”

  “The Rowdy One alone without his Glyss. This I never thought to see.”

  “Falling out,” he lied. He knew Julius a master at reading people, but this was a gamble he had to take. “He has earned a death by my hand after all these years of treating me like the trash his father scooped up. He has wasted my last shred of patience,” Konnon said.

  Julius stared at him for a while and grinned. “Maybe.” His hand slipped into the dress of the woman on his lap and he pulled out her full breast. She gasped and Konnon fought back his disgust. Slinter leaned forward, her forked tongue flicking as she neared the woman’s perfect flesh.

  “I’m not sure you will want to see this, Konnon Crillian. You can scurry away now, old friend.”

  Konnon turned as Slinter lapped at the woman’s nipple, and the waitress screamed.

  Konnon turned his mind back to work and he let his eyes sweep the room.

  The Kollul brothers were here. All six of them sat in the center of the floor. They were a gloomy lot and they stared at each other with as much disdain as they held for the rest of the world.

  Konnon looked to the far back corner to see Tralop and her five bruisers. They had shed a few and added a few others since the last time he had seen them, but they still looked just as terrifying as they always had been. Tralop had been in love with him for a time many long years ago. She looked up at him, and scowled. Her affections had soured. He grinned at her and she looked away.

  Cankcer and his Impossibles sat at the bar. They were an ugly troupe, each more disgusting than the last. They sent a message they could not back up. Cankcer had decided long ago his crew should have the appearance of monsters, and he had hunted sideshows and carnivals to fill his numbers. Each one of the five men that sat with him was a born freak of some kind, and every one of them carried a formidable weapon. Their blades were all barbed and jagged, each a nightmare to behold, and they sent fear ripping through any who looked upon them. But these men were chosen for an effect, and most of them had never fought a day in their lives before meeting their new master. Cankcer turned to look at Konnon and grinned with sharpened teeth.

  More and more vile men and women filled the bar until his eye landed on the most dangerous crew the city was likely to see. Konnon’s eye fell to Artiss and his Bloodhounds, and he knew he had to make that crew.

  Artiss was a short man with a barrel chest and a thick brown beard. He looked like a man that might build ships or lift stone all day. His body was corded over again and again with muscle, and his forearms bristled with black hair. His head was bald and sweating as he drank and shouted. He wore his short handled axes on his belt, and though his looks made a commoner out of him, his mind and his ability made him a god.

  Sitting beside him was Treavor the Black. He held his face in a perfect smile, his hands flat on the table, well away from his visible blades. He wore his blonde hair short and high, h
is clothing perfect and clean. His sleeves were long and flared and Konnon knew the poisoned blades he murdered men with rested there. Treavor was a nightmare of a man, cruel and terrible with a penchant for pain and a wandering eye roving for a victim. Konnon had once watched Treavor kill a man and take his axe. He had carried it for a few city streets while Konnon followed him, just to grow weary of its weight and swing it once and embed it in the back of a passing elderly woman. Treavor had walked away as if he had just handed the woman an apple. Konnon had long ago decided never to work with him. Konnon looked around the room, seeking another crew that could pose threat to Rayph, but knew he would not find it.

  Lauris sat on the edge of the table, her legs folded under her, her slight weight affecting the table’s balance not at all. If anything the woman looked to have shrank. She appeared no bigger than a broom, no more deadly than a scarf. But this acrobat was known for feats of the impossible that made her respected and feared across the whole of the nation. She wore her clothing tight to her tiny build and seemed to carry no weapons whatsoever. Her hair was tied in a perfect red bun and her pale, milk white skin looked powdered. She saw him and smiled. She looked at him with all the happiness of a young girl who had seen the love of her life, and at that moment, it was hard to see her as anything but a harmless girl. Konnon grinned at her and nodded.

  He looked to her left, at Barrigan, and held tight rein on his fear.

  The man sat on a chair ready to shatter under his weight. He defined big, made a child out of big, and Konnon grew weary at the idea of dealing with him. He held the body of an enormous man covered in black fur. His back wore a smear of silver hair, and as Konnon stared, the monolith of a man turned his gorilla head in Konnon’s direction and snarled. Konnon felt fear, real and terrible, seize his mind with two great fists and squeeze. He could not breathe, and he felt as if he had to sit down. Barrigan looked at him and through him without recognition. But Konnon knew that would not last long.