by Zel Spasov
“What is that supposed to mean?” The queen raised her eyebrows.
“War is forbidden during—”
“I know very well what is forbidden during the holiday, General Venari,” Mira said sharply. “If I had a choice, I would prefer not to have a war at this time. But the situation in Agapea is getting worse while we sit and wait. The Red Evil weaves its webs of deceit and manipulation deeper into the hearts of its citizens. If Cayden…” The words stuck in the queen’s throat. Her eyes filled with tears. She closed her eyes, swallowed, and took a deep breath. Once she opened them again, they were clear and filled with anger.
General Venari saw the pain of her queen. But there was also a feeling of unrest that hadn’t been there before. The queen’s eyes were burning with a dangerous flame that threatened to incinerate Agapea and Windhaven both.
“I am your queen, General Venari, and this war is my decision. I myself bear the burden of this choice. Your task is to execute my orders and help me win the war.”
“If there is a way to get in touch with Cayden, maybe we can prevent it—” General Venari tried to say.
“Are you opposing me, Varvara?” the queen asked. “Do you understand that disobedience is punishable by death?”
General Venari straightened her back. She was entering dangerous territory. If it wasn’t for her personal relationship to the queen, she might already have been put in a cell.
“I understand, my queen,” she said. “I will execute your orders.”
“Our actions are for the good of all,” said Mira. “We have to win this war. Now go back to your tasks. I want the army to be ready for departure within two days!”
“Yes, my queen!” said Varvara, placing a fist on her chest, and then she left the room.
Once she shut the door behind her, Varvara exhaled. The old Mira would’ve never even considered starting a war during the Festival of Nine Moons. The pain of losing Cayden had changed her. Varvara could barely recognize her anymore.
And as far as Cayden was concerned… well, Varvara had her own plans for his role in this war.
***
Monsieur Gèroux tied Jean’s arms behind his back and pushed him in front of himself. Zacharie walked beside him with two other prisoners. A squad from the city guard was escorting them to the palace. The celebrations around the Festival of Nine Moons had quieted down, but even after the events that had unfolded tonight, there were still drunkards on the streets. Most of the fires had been quenched, and the smoke from the smoldering debris rose high in the night sky. The smell of burning filled the air. The bounty hunter and the captain walked side by side without looking at each other.
“Brother,” the captain said in a restrained tone.
“Brother,” said Bernard, also with a controlled voice.
“You look… tired,” the captain said diplomatically.
“You don’t look well either,” the headhunter replied. “This uniform has never fitted you.”
The captain fell silent. Bernard was annoyed that his younger brother didn’t answer. The relationship between the two had long since faded. However, the headhunter still stood by his sibling. To look at his blank expression while they led the criminals to the palace infuriated him to the core. How could he behave as if they weren’t a family? Zacharie’s eyes were empty and his face was like a mask. His rugged exterior showed no emotion whatsoever.
Jean lashed out in an attempt to free himself. The bounty hunter threw him hard to the ground, then picked him back up again and shoved him from the back. He was barely holding on to his nerves.
“When we return the prisoners, I expect a fair reward for my efforts,” he said.
“Your reward is that we won’t put you in jail with them,” his brother replied.
“After I helped you catch them?! You—” the monsieur growled.
“You interfered in official city guard business,” his brother said calmly. “We could’ve captured them without your help. Your intervening created chaos in our ranks and prevented my people from doing their job. We are lucky that there was no greater damage.”
“I prevented them from doing their job?!” yelled Monsieur Gèroux. “Your incompetent people let the prisoners escape! If it wasn’t for me, you’d have let the Frog go as well!”
“The city guard is doing its job efficiently and quickly. My men are well trained—”
“Your ‘men,’” interrupted Bernard, “are incapable idiots who can’t tell a sword from a stick! If they were even a little decent at their jobs, there wouldn’t be any need for hunters like me!”
As he said those words, the guards accompanying them became uneasy. The tension in the air rose. If Monsieur Gèroux tried to make even one step toward the captain, they would cut him down.
“Monsieur Gèroux,” Zacharie said, raising his voice, “must I remind you that you are a civilian who, under the circumstances, is allowed to help the city guard in fulfilling its duties? Your presence here is an obstacle to us and jeopardizes the efficiency of our work. Not only will you not get any money, but if you continue to contradict me, we will have to apprehend you for obstruction of justice. Am I clear?”
His brother’s voice was like steel. The captain never threatened without being ready to follow through. He was a skillful fighter, equal to Bernard. If it came to a bout, the headhunter didn’t stand a chance against him and the city guard. He decided to hold his tongue.
Anyway, his goal today wasn’t to win the verbal match between him and his brother. Once in the palace, he would have the opportunity to present himself to the king. If he could make a good impression on King Fraud, he could finally get the chance to become a Royal Bounty Hunter.
As they came into view of the front of the castle, the consequences of the attack of the Windhaveners were visible. The majestic towers of the castle were destroyed. There were holes in its walls, most of which had been made by the raining fireballs. One of the holes was the consequence of the blast caused by the Resistance. The drawbridge over the moat had miraculously survived the attack.
Monsieur Gèroux and the captain crossed the bridge, shoving the stubborn Jean and the badgers in front of them. With effort, they escorted the scoundrels to their prison cells.
“I have an audience with the king,” Zacharie said. “You know where the exit is.”
“Oh, no,” said Bernard. “There’s no way you’re going to see the king without me!”
“You can’t see the king without an audience,” said the captain, raising his voice. “The state is in crisis! Your place isn’t here, but on the streets, chasing after petty criminals the watch can’t be bothered to apprehend!”
“So that’s what you think of your big brother, huh?” asked the monsieur. “I’m just scum, good for nothing else but hunting down your ‘petty’ criminals. If you’d helped me for once, maybe I wouldn’t have to live this way!”
“Maybe you should have used the opportunities you were given! You could’ve become a healer or a judge! But no, you’re better than that, aren’t you? You wanted to become a headhunter! Look at the great Monsieur Gèroux, the most famous bounty hunter in the country!” The captain was yelling. “You didn’t care how scared Mother was! You didn’t care about what our family had to go through while you were out there, pursuing your idiotic dreams!”
The captain bared his teeth.
“Well, at least I didn’t give up and become a city guard,” the hunter said, snorting. “If you want to talk about a waste of talent, look at yourself. I hope you are happy with your life. Following orders, having no freedom whatsoever. You’re not a wolf, you’re the king’s pet. But if you don’t want to help me—fine, don’t do it for me. Do it for your nephews.”
The monsieur had finally delivered the blow he'd been preparing. His brother was too angry to help him. But his nephews were his weak spot. Bernard knew Zacharie wouldn’t let them starve because of their stupid father. And their father, he had to admit to himself, was very stupid sometimes.
Zachar
ie relaxed his balled-up fists. His ability to control himself always amazed the monsieur. For the first time during the night, his body showed signs of fatigue. His eyes lost their spark and his shoulders dropped. He sighed.
“All right,” he said. “You can come to the audience with me. I’ll say you helped us catch the Resistance fighters. From there on out, you’re on your own.”
A few minutes with the king was everything the monsieur needed. The two brothers headed to the throne room. On both sides of the hallway leading to the room candles burned with yellow, red, purple, and blue flames. The curtains on the windows gossiped about the events of the past day. Monsieur Gèroux overheard part of their conversation. They had noticed the king passing by, worried about something. He also heard something about the emergence of a “Red Evil.”
When they finally reached the throne room, they found King Fraud giving instructions to Count Porcius regarding the preparation of the upcoming war. The king seemed angry, but under the facade, he was hiding something else—fear. His eyes were wide open, his ears laid flat on his head, his tail coiled around his legs.
“Did you understand me, pig?!” said Fraud to Count Porcius.
“Y-yes, Your Majesty,” answered the frightened count.
“What are you supposed to do?” the king asked.
“I am t-to order the troops to prepare for war. We’re l-leaving the day after tomorrow. The g-g-guard is to quench the fires as soon as p-possible and m-mobilize the troops.”
“And?” King Fraud was irritated.
“And th-then I am to go back t-to my office and not show my s-stupid face until the morning.”
“What are you waiting for, then? Do it!”
Count Porcius left the hall, stumbling.
“Ah, Captain,” the king said when he noticed Zacharie was in the room. “You’re exactly the person I was waiting for.”
“Your Majesty,” said the captain, “allow me to introduce the bounty hunter who helped us capture the criminals.”
Bernard leaped forward with a theatrical step, opening his arms as if he were on stage. “Monsieur Gèroux at your service, Your Majesty,” he said with a confident smile. “I’m one of the most successful headhunters Agapea has to offer.”
“I’ve never heard of you,” the king said skeptically.
“Your Majesty, I assure you that my skills are unsurpassed. If it wasn’t for my timely intervention, many of your men would’ve fallen in battle with the fugitives.”
The last sentence caught the king’s attention. This was the moment Bernard had been waiting for. Now was his chance to convince Fraud to take him into service.
“The battle was fierce, Your Majesty, and many guards were killed. Even more would’ve been slain by the villains, but fortunately I was also looking for your escapees. My involvement saved your people from certain death, Your Majesty.”
“Is this true, Captain?” King Fraud raised his eyebrows.
“It is, Your Majesty,” he said through gritted teeth. His face looked like it was cut out of stone.
“Your Majesty,” the monsieur said once more, “if you would allow me, I would like to offer my services to you. I promise I’ll bring the remaining outlaws back to you in a week.”
“Two days,” the king said. “We go to war on the morning of the second day. If the criminals are not here by then, don’t bother coming back.”
“Two days it is, then,” said Monsieur Gèroux. To such an extent was he seized by the desire to be promoted to a service in the palace that he would’ve agreed with any time frame given to him by the king. In order to be able to catch the outlaws in time, however, the wolf would have to leave immediately and keep going until he returned to the palace. If his mission was successful, all his efforts would be worthwhile. The only thing left to do was to negotiate the payment—an unpleasant but important part of the profession of every headhunter. “Of course, in order to accomplish the task in time, I will have larger expenses than usual…”
“Monsieur Gèroux, if you bring me the human in question,” said the king, “and precisely he, Monsieur, is the one I need, you will get whatever reward you want. I don’t care about the rest of his group.”
The monsieur could barely conceal his excitement. In one night, he had come closer to fulfilling his dream than in all his years of tireless work. Every sense in his body was leading him to his clearly defined goal: to catch the human. He was his ticket to the title of Royal Bounty Hunter and out of his miserable life.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said the monsieur. “I will not disappoint you.”
As soon as he exited the throne room, the image of the human flashed in his head again like a firework. A familiar voice whispered to him: “CATCH HIM! CATCH HIM!” Bernard growled. Oh, how he dreamed of sinking his teeth into the human’s neck…
The voice subsided, and the wolf came back to himself. Whose were these intrusive thoughts? He was sure they weren’t his. No matter how much he wanted to catch his prey, he never lost himself in the hunt to such an extent. But the rage flowing through his veins wasn’t going away. It gave him the power he was going to need in the days to come. He gave in, following his instinct, which never betrayed him, and allowed the burning fury to fill him up.
As he walked away from the hall, he heard the king say, “Captain, first you’ll hand me your weapon, and then we’ll talk about your duties in the mines...”
***
Monsieur Gèroux hurried to his home. He had to take care of some things before he left.
He climbed the narrow stairway, passed the small window with a lit candle, and opened the wooden door. The hinges creaked. The wolf clenched his teeth. He went in quietly and carefully closed the door, which creaked again. Bernard started to remove his outer garment when a woman's voice rang out. “It’s late.”
In the middle of the kitchen stood Anna, his wife, her arms folded, her feet firmly on the ground. Her hairs stood on end. She had settled into that belligerent stance of hers. Every time she got angry, she had that posture. The bounty hunter couldn’t help but note how beautiful she looked, even when she was furious.
“Work,” he said.
His explanation didn’t satisfy her. He had used this justification too often. It had been the truth at first, but it had gradually become an empty phrase. He spent some of his nights, at least, in bars, where he tried to forget how bad his life was. However, if he tried to explain that to her, she wouldn’t understand. Even he didn’t always understand. It was easier to hide behind his profession than to admit that sometimes he didn’t want to come home. He used the alibi as a shield—his wife couldn’t get angry with him, because he was doing it for her and the children.
“I just came to get some things, and then I have to go out again,” he said.
Anna didn’t say anything, but the coldness she emitted was perceptible. Bernard was accustomed to the sensation. He went to the corner of the room, where, hidden behind a beam, was all the money he had saved up so far. It wasn’t much. Then he reached into a sack with eight potatoes inside, the only food the family had. He took two for himself. He looked at them, then put the bigger one back in the sack. Anna sat down on the table in front of the window and put her head in her hands. Monsieur Gèroux sighed. He walked slowly to her and sat down on the chair on the other side of the small table.
“The money is almost gone,” she said. “I can’t sleep anymore. We’re just sitting here, waiting for the Windhaveners to attack again. We won’t survive a second fire.”
She was desperate. He said nothing to comfort her, because she was right. They had barely survived the last attack. If there was a second one, they were going to lose their home. He reached into the bag with their money and put most of it on the table.
“Try to endure until I get back. Then we will have enough money. We'll buy food, real food, not potatoes.”
His wife looked like a ghost. Bernard put his hand on her wrist.
“I have a new contract,” he s
aid. “Everything will be fine. Just wait a little longer.”
His voice, usually heavy and cold, was now soft and soothing. It was full of love.
His wife raised her head, her eyes full of tears. “A little longer?! This happens every time. A little longer... We always have to wait a little longer. It’s not enough that you’re never home. The children need their father! We need you!”
Monsieur Gèroux knew what the problems in his house were. That was why he didn’t want to come home. Every activity that distracted him from his depressing life was welcome. Alcohol, gambling, work... However, he hadn’t stopped fighting for his family. He hadn’t surrendered.
“The children...” he said.
“They’re in bed, sleeping.”
Bernard headed toward the bedroom. His wife grabbed his hand and said, “Don’t wake them up.”
The wolf quietly opened the door to the bedroom, just enough to see the heads of his cubs sleeping under the blankets, tired from the long day. Their small ears drooped on their heads. He wanted to go to them, hug them, kiss them, tell them everything was going to be all right. But he didn’t dare wake them. He didn’t want them to see him, so his absence in the morning would hurt them less. He couldn’t bear telling them he was going away again. His children looked at life in their own, innocent way, which was hidden for him. But adults knew the hard truths of life. Sometimes you have to do things that kill you from the inside. Sometimes the stories don’t have a happy ending. Sometimes...
Feeling the tears burning in his eyes, he gritted his teeth and closed the door. His wife was crying at the table. He walked over to her, and she held him tight. Monsieur Gèroux responded to her embrace. These moments of tenderness between the two were increasingly rare.
He loved her. That was why he had to leave.
“Don’t go…” she said softly in his embrace, as if she had read his thoughts.
He didn’t say anything. Because, like his wife, he didn’t want to leave. He would do everything to stay another minute at home. Why not? Why didn’t he just drop everything and stay? Why was he supposed to be away from his family?