The Toldar Series Box Set

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The Toldar Series Box Set Page 12

by Matt Mememaro


  Malvrok did not miss the meaning behind the gesture. “Well in that case I have something that may interest you, big brother. Only Talia knows what I am about to tell you. The reason we fled here and built this place was because I pissed Councilor Graytooth off one too many times.”

  “And what did you do to have our friend Graytooth chase you out of Alilletia for fear of your life?” Barros asked.

  Malvrok stood from the table and moved to the kitchen. He opened a drawer producing a small grey object. It was an identical copy of the amulet that Barros wore around his neck.

  “That’s not what I think it is, is it?” Barros asked.

  “One of the seven Tal’davin amulets,” Malvrok said. “What are the odds that we would both be in the possession of one?”

  “Very slim, I imagine,” Piero said.

  “I intend to find the other five and unite them all to see what powers they all hold,” Barros said. “If a Hunter holds them, then no Vampire can ever raise Tal’davin from the dead. That is one thing we can’t allow.”

  “Uh, Barros I think you’re missing the point here. If all seven are united then what’s to stop a Vampire from killing you and taking the amulets, or even yourself raising Tal’davin back from the dead?” Malvrok asked.

  “Fair point,” Barros said. “That’s why you will keep one amulet here with you. With six, Tal’davin cannot be raised.”

  “The amulets have not been seen in several thousand years aside from the pair that the two of you possess. If you want to find them, Barros, you’ll have to go through each of the journals that Lars wrote before he died. Those are the only things that will give you any sort of lead,” Piero said.

  “Excellent. How many journals do you have at West Anacore?” Barros asked.

  “Only two but it will be a starting point for you,” Piero said. “Now that’s settled. You need to tell Malvrok your real reason for coming here?”

  “Of course, Abner,” Barros said. He pointed to the child rested on his knee.

  “Do you want me to take him in?” Malvrok asked. “It’ll be another mouth we have to feed and while the gatherers we have bring in more than enough food there will be a substantial cost involved. While he’s being trained he’ll also have his own lodging.”

  “He’s your fucking nephew, Mal, and damn well might be the savior of Taagras if he’s trained right. I need you to train him while I’m looking for these amulets. The Huntrey won’t be the right place for him until he can comprehend what he really is,” Barros said.

  “I suppose you’re right. What hopes do you have for him?”

  “If he’s anything like you or me, he might just be the next best sword in Taagras,” Barros said. “I have faith that you’ll teach him well. He’ll be a long living testimony to your legacy.”

  “Even if he replaces me as the best sword in Taagras?” Malvrok asked.

  “Toldar arrogance at its finest,” Piero said. “Just like your father.”

  “Axel Toldar, one of the best men and Hunters to have ever lived. Long live his memory!” Malvrok said, raising his drink in a toast. The Hunters drank deeply before emptying their cups and gesturing for a refill. “I hope Namzal died slowly, Barros.”

  “He did, little brother. Train Abner like we were trained so that nobody has to lose their brother to a Vampire,” Barros said.

  “I’m glad one of us got vengeance for Creden and the others. And to think I couldn’t care less at the time. I was too busy acting the young warrior. My days in East Anacore were the best. I remember masquerading as a knight in Her Majesty’s Royal Guard. Saved her life a few times I did before she became Queen,” Malvrok said.

  “That’s where you met Talia, wasn’t it?” Barros asked.

  “Aye, at the coronation.” Malvrok said. “That day was the best day of my life. I received the highest honors in all of Taagras and met the woman that I’ll be wed to shortly. It doesn’t get any better than that, Bear. You have no idea how lucky I am to still have her after everything we’ve been through.”

  “And I promise you, you will have her until your last day,” Barros said. “I will make that potion for her. I’d hate to see you lose someone you love after I’ve been through the same.”

  “You were always stronger than I was,” Malvrok said.

  “Only when it comes to matters of the heart, little brother. You’re the only man to this day that has beaten me in a swordfight. That’s why I’m giving Abner to you. If he leaves you at the age of fifteen unable to take out five of your best men, you haven’t tried him well enough.”

  “Leave the training to me brother or I’ll take you out into the field and show the men how they should beat brothers that give them too much lip.”

  “We must be heading off,” Piero said rising from the table.

  “So soon?” Malvrok asked. “You’ve barely sat down.”

  “Yes well, unlike you my friend, we have important Hunter business to attend to. And the longer Barros remains here the longer it will take to get the potion for your bride to be,” Piero said. “We can’t afford to waste anymore daylight.”

  “One last question, Mal. How secure is the fortress?” Barros asked. “I need to know this place is safe for my son.”

  “You know that nowhere is safe, Bear. The walls will repel several hundred men, as long as we have a dozen men manning them. Anything more and we'd either need to get more people up there or flee across the Bulldrag.” Malvrok rose and shook Piero’s hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

  Outside, the companions headed straight to the stables. One of the stable boys resting as he was halfway through scrubbing down Piero’s steed. He jumped up with alarm seeing the three men approach. “I’m sorry, Mal, I didn’t know the Hunters would be returning so soon!”

  “Don’t worry about it, my boy. The Hunters weren’t supposed to be returning so soon, but they declined my hospitality.” Malvrok threw a glare at his brother.

  Barros replaced the saddle on his horse, while Piero did the same. Malvrok stood watching, examining Piero’s freak of a horse. “What are you looking at?” Piero asked.

  “Nothing, I’m just trying to work out how the Huntrey breeds its horses that big,” Malvrok said.

  “A ton of Vampire blood, basically,” Piero said.

  “Of course.” Malvrok rolled his eyes.

  “Now I’ll be back before the wedding with the potion. Talia will be well again and able to conceive you a son on your wedding night. Stay safe, little brother,” Barros said nudging his horse out of the stable.

  Six Years later

  17

  Sickness

  Piero knocked on Barros’ door and waited several seconds before opening it. He peered inside. His friend was awake, lying tucked up in bed, his eyes engrossed in a leather-bound book. The old Hunter carried a jug of water in one hand and a rolled piece of parchment in the other as he crossed the well-furnished room. Piero sat down beside Barros, the water outstretched in his hand. After a shrug from Barros, Piero left it on the bedside table and began to unroll the parchment.

  “Good morning, my friend. How’s the head today?” Piero asked.

  “Bloody sore again,” Barros said. He wore a bandage around his forehead and rubbed it in annoyance. “But I’ll live.”

  “You still don’t have any idea what’s causing you the pain?”

  “None at all. Whatever it is, I want to find out and in a hurry. Some days it feels like there’s something crawling around on the inside, attacking my nerves.”

  “This is new information,” Piero said, leaning in closer. “Do you need me to search around inside your skull and find the enormous ego you used to have?”

  “Very funny.” Barros scowled at his friend. “What do you want?”

  “Nothing at all,” Piero said. “Can’t I check on one of my only two friends that are still alive? I take it the books weren’t helpful.”

  “No and no. You’re aware that I like to be left alone when I’m like th
is.”

  “Unfortunately for me, as Head of this Huntrey it is also my job to ensure that every Hunter under my roof is performing to the best of his potential. Yours seemed to have vanish six years ago after you returned from Malvrok’s wedding.” Piero slapped Barros on the shoulder, a grimace coming across his face. “Still I won’t give up hope on you just yet. After all you did manage to save Taagras twice within a matter of a week.”

  “I’m just sick of being locked in this room like some caged animal sifting through books. Even these robes you’ve given me are starting to stink,” Barros said.

  “That’s usually what happens after you don’t change them for two weeks, my friend. You have plenty in here, you just never want to move except to eat,” Piero said.

  “I’m sick, Piero. To be perfectly honest, a bookworm should be trying to find a cure for whatever is causing my head pain as well as any locations of Tal’davin’s amulets. I need to be out in the field, killing. That’s what I was born and bred to do.”

  “Just remind me, how many of the amulets have you gathered in the last six years?”

  “Three,” Barros said. “It’s not enough. I have the one I took from Sophia and the other one that I managed to snatch from those mercenaries in Renor just after Mal’s wedding. Malvrok holds the third for me. I needed all four of the others years ago, straight after the bitch went on the rampage. "

  “I have good news. One of the librarians seems to have located a fourth.” Piero turned and directed his voice to a door. “Rowan, you can come in now! I’ve made sure old grumble guts won’t try to kill us.”

  “Oh thank the Shaman for that. Last time I was in here alone with him, he tried to take my head off. Then again, he was pissed and did have a bit to drink,” Rowan said, laughing as he stepped inside.

  Rowan had changed since moving to the Huntrey with his son. Six years on, the white and grey leather jacket of his Highlander years had been replaced with the much more elegant design of a Hunter’s. Rowan opted to keep the white and grey coloring as he preferred to hunt in his homelands.

  “Now, Piero, what’s the plan? You said you’ve found a fourth amulet.”

  “I have indeed. There is a large cave on the other side of the Delta River, about twenty kilometers to the north. Only problem is, there’s a nest full of Vampires that occupy it. Nobody could possibly know how many but, what we have suspected from a note in the fifth journal of Lars, is that he buried one in the darkest corner of that cave,” Piero said. “We can only send a small team to reduce detection. However, the odds aren’t in our favor. Once you’re in there, there’s little chance of you two coming out alive.”

  “Hang on a minute, you never said anything about a death trap.” Rowan threw his hands up in protest. “I have a son, you know?”

  “I’ll do it,” Barros said. “One man alone has less chance of being discovered. And frankly I’ve got the best odds of pulling it off, out of anyone in this Huntrey.”

  “But your head.”

  “Is completely fine. Even with my head pounding I can still best anyone,” Barros said. “I’ll prove it to you today, as a matter of fact. Just because I've been in and out of bed for the past six years doesn't mean I've lost my edge. I trained hard when I could. Simple as that. I only want Rowan coming on this mission with me in case of a hot extraction.”

  “Well if you’re so confident in your skills, I have your opponent already and I’m sure he will not decline,” Piero said.

  “Who is he?” Barros raised his eyebrows.

  “Me.” Rowan threw his head back and laughed.

  “Fuck,” Barros said. “I knew I’d regret that. You’re the one person I really hate fighting, Rowan. I still haven’t worked out how a clumsy oaf like you moves so quickly.”

  “Same way as a Highlander turned Vampire moves so quick. Their blood,” Rowan said. “Besides that, you can’t blame me for moving slowly when I have to lug this heavy axe around. You have no idea how much of a pain it is to do so. I’m glad Vampires just seem to run into its arc for me.”

  “You’re the man that kicks their heads off,” Barros said. “Why do you even need an axe?”

  “Right, enough banter,” Piero said. “Rowan, you get down to the field and make the preparations for sparring. I just need another word with Barros.”

  “Of course, Piero,” Rowan said bowing out of the room.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” Barros asked.

  “We’re about to undergo massive changes here over the coming months. The Board has approved the estimated budget I gave them and a rough outline of what we expect to change. I need you to oversee the construction of the Huntrey while we build you back up for field duty. No pun intended,” he said.

  “Why me?” Barros said. “Surely you’ve got someone else that can handle masons better than I can.”

  “You’ll be running the damn place when I retire. As far as I’m concerned, these bones are growing weaker by the day and I don’t have much time left. You need to start handling the day to day activities as well so that nobody can oppose you when it comes time to vote,” Piero said.

  “Who else would oppose my appointment as Head?”

  “Gunthos, who else do you think? He’s the only man that comes even close to you in qualifications. Yes, he’s lacking in combat skill when compared to some of us, but the man is as cunning as a fox and will only be outsmarted if we start preparing now. Get dressed. I expect to you see you on the yard in ten minutes.”

  “You know, I really shouldn’t have to fight Rowan for the five hundredth time in six years. I’ve proven time and time again, I can beat him,” Barros said beginning to throw off the old stinking robes.

  “You need to prove that you’re strong even during your weakest moments. A wise man once told me that, Axel Toldar.”

  “Of course, my fucking late great father. I’m more of a man than he ever was,” Barros said.

  "Prove it,” Piero said.

  Barros dressed quickly and raced down the Huntrey tower’s main stairwell. The Huntrey itself was a large structure, beautifully crafted in the shape of a crossbow that soared hundreds of feet into the sky. Below it was a small village, able to house servants, smiths, masons and the low-ranking Hunters. Only those senior ranks such as Barros and Piero lived in the tower.

  The staircase spiraled downwards, opening onto the cathedral sized ground level that served as a multipurpose area for Hunters such as a reading room and tavern at opposite ends. Light filtered in through stained glass that depicted the legendary Lars Hunter. Barros knelt before the original rune-covered sword that defeated Tal’davin during the First War. Piero had always been a firm believer in respecting and revisiting the Hunter’s history.

  A handful of Hunters were gathered in the reading area, talking amongst themselves, relaxing with drinks in hand. Their heads turned towards Barros before flicking away again. He continued walking, sword sheathed in his hand until he reached the doorway.

  “Barros,” a loud deep voice called out from across the room.

  “I’m not in the mood for your shit today, Gunthos.” Barros turned.

  On the stairwell, his younger, almost identical brother, Havoc, flanked the dark-skinned Hunter. They hailed from the Galasos Islands, their dusky skin representative of their people. As much of an imposing figure as Gunthos was, he only truly challenged Barros when his younger brother was behind him.

  “It’s so warming to see you out of bed,” Gunthos said. “Going to get your ass beaten by Rowan in the yard, I assume?”

  “Not a chance. I’m merely training with him before we complete a mission that has absolutely nothing to do with you or your poor excuse of a brother. From here, Havoc looks more like a sister,” Barros said taking note of Havoc’s long black hair and thinner stature.

  “If I was Rowan, I’d kill you before anyone could stop the fight,” Havoc said.

  “That’s unfortunate for you because you both are nowhere near the size of Rowan,
nor do you have his intellect or strength. Now if you would excuse me, ladies, I have a fight to attend.”

  “You will fight me now in this very hall or I will cut you down where you stand!” Gunthos said.

  “No,” Barros said. “If I wanted to put you to shame, I would choose a day and time which you could prepare yourselves for. When you say fight me, I can only assume you want me to fight both of you since you wouldn’t want to be parted from your sister in life or death.”

  As Barros turned his back, Gunthos threw out his arm, a small glint of silver visible as it flew through the air. The knife buried itself in the door a foot beside Barros’ head. The Hunters in the room waited for an explosion as Barros plucked the knife from the wood.

  “That was a nice try, Gunthos. But the next time you want to kill me, you’d be better served aiming for my head.” He inspected the knife in his hand. “Thanks for the present, by the way. I really appreciate it.”

  “Well you took your bloody time. Good thing I don’t have sensitive skin otherwise I’d be bright red right about now,” Rowan said leaning on his axe.

  “I ran into trouble,” Barros said.

  “Ah, so the Islander brothers held you up? Barros, you could dispatch them in a few seconds if you really didn’t put any thought into it,” Rowan said.

  “Can we get started already? Where’s Piero?” Barros asked.

  “Up here!” Piero called from the peak of a tree. “Had to do something to keep myself occupied while you were having a chit chat with Gunthos and Havoc. Begin whenever you’re ready. I want to see this fine return to form.”

  Rowan roared, rushing Barros before he had time to ready himself. The Highlander was all motion, whirling the axe around his head, smashing it down onto Barros’ well-placed sword that was still in its scabbard. Five blows rained down upon the smaller Hunter, all from different angles in a mad attempt to cleave him in half. On the sixth blow, Barros deflected the heavy axe pushing it off the side of his sword, ducking low in the same motion, taking out Rowan’s legs from underneath him.

 

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