The Toldar Series Box Set

by Matt Mememaro

  “What are the goods?” Gunthos asked, his hand clasped over his sword.

  “That’s none of your concern, my friend. This is a new test for the novices to complete once they reach our friends in the Blackmire. Not even the most senior of Hunters shall know until I am permitted to tell them,” Rowan said. “Besides that, I thought we stationed novices here throughout the nights, not senior Hunters in their prime.”

  “I fancied a stroll and relieved one of the young boys. Show me what’s in the bag,” Gunthos said taking a step forward.

  “Piero gave strict orders not to let anyone look inside,” Rowan said. “Stand back or I’ll throw you off the wall.”

  “The fall will hardly kill me,” Gunthos said. “And that’s funny, I haven’t seen Piero since this morning. Where is he?”

  “He left on a hunt, unannounced,” Rowan said.

  “I don’t believe you. Show me the bag,” Gunthos said.

  “I hardly think that will be necessary,” Barros said from below. His sword clinked on each step as he rose to the battlements. “If Rowan doesn’t wish to show you the contents of his package, let him pass.” For the smallest man present, Barros cast the largest shadow. “If you don’t let him pass I’ll cut you down here and now,” he said leaning on his sword.

  Gunthos looked from Barros to Rowan and back again, a frustration on his face. “When Piero returns, he’ll hear about this!” he said as he stormed off.

  “Tell him!” Barros called out after him before turning to Rowan. “I think you better get going. Things will only get worse out there, the longer you are.”

  “Thanks for the assist,” Rowan said dropping the body over the wall.

  “No problems, you know how much I enjoy getting one over him,” Barros said with a grin.

  Rowan dropped his tone so that nobody eavesdropping could hear him. “Things will change now that Piero is dead and when I am officially named as Head, you will be named as my second.”

  “Thank you, Rowan,” Barros said. “Godspeed to you, my friend.”

  * * *

  The tall dark trees of the Blackmire stood tall around Rowan, swallowing his mountainous figure whole. He carried no torch and the weight of Piero was finally getting to him after the trek. Feeling his friend’s cold flesh against him, made Rowan feel nervous. He never wished to repeat this task.

  Rowan reached into a pocket, taking out a vial of Vampire blood as the Blackmire began to live up to its name. He drank deeply, enjoying every drop of the precious liquid. It sent a shiver up his spine, along with a tingling sensation that washed over his body. Each Hunter’s reaction to the blood was different and Rowan was grateful his was one of the less violent. He shook his head and closed his eyes, only to flick them open again, revealing the Blackmire in a red colour which the Hunters called night vision.

  The Highlander stopped as he heard a rustle in the undergrowth behind him. Rowan turned and found a pair of large, cold, unyielding eyes glaring at him. The wolf was huge, standing well over a meter tall, its paws almost as large as Rowan’s hands. Rowan turned slowly to survey his options but found none; instead he lowered the sack to the ground, drawing two of his knives. They were the best he had, his axe would be far too slow to fend off the agile beast.

  The wolf took a step forward and raised its head to the sky, letting out a deafening howl. Rowan heard a twig snap beside him and out of his peripheral vision he saw a second wolf watching him, larger than the first.

  “What are you two waiting for?” Rowan said bearing his teeth at the first wolf.

  There was no sound as it rushed towards him; its paws pattering lightly across the leaves, looking for an easy kill. The wolf leapt forwards gaining considerable height, drawing level with Rowan’s neck. Rowan lashed out at the last second, his huge fist connecting with the snout of the wolf, knocking it flat to the forest floor.

  Rowan was satisfied, the smaller, female wolf would stay down but he had no time to celebrate before the larger male began circling him. It snarled, pacing, waiting for the most opportune moment to strike. It quickly grew impatient with its prey, no doubt anxious to help its fallen mate.

  Rowan crouched, making himself an inviting target. It snapped its jaws once before sprinting forward, determined to take the big Hunter down. As the beast leapt, Rowan ducked underneath it, dropping beside the first wolf, which was barely breathing. His knives fell to either side of him as he checked over his shoulder that the larger wolf had landed behind him.

  Before Rowan could rise, the beast charged him once more. This time it latched onto his right arm as it attempted to tear through the hardened leather of Rowan’s tunic. Rowan closed his left fist, striking the wolf between the eyes, forcing it to release him. With a roar, hen thrust his fist into the stunned beast’s mouth, the fangs finally penetrating his armor. With another single blow to the back of the wolf’s head, the creature dropped to the floor. Rowan grunted as he pulled his fist from the throat of the beast.

  Rising, he checked his minor wounds. A crazy idea sprung into his head. He retrieved both knives and placed them back into his belt. He drew another two vials of Vampire blood. The Hunter’s horses were bred and grown using this blood. It was not unheard of for them to assist their Hunter with killing Vampires. Sometimes they were able to sniff out the undead fiends at a distance. Rowan looked down at the wounded beasts before him. Wolves were the apex predators in this region. What if a similar breeding program with them could yield similar results to the experiments with the horses? If the effects were replicated, they maybe able to use wolves to track Vampires? Their stealth and speed were unmatched by any other natural creature in the world. They would make a valuable asset in the war.

  Rowan knelt beside the two creatures, unscrewing the vials of blood, pausing only to open their mouths. Their rapid chest movements slowed as Rowan poured more of the black liquid down their awaiting throats. Satisfied, they’d had enough, the Hunter rose, his eyes gazing over the bodies of the helpless animals.

  “Rest, little pups,” he told the wolves. “I’ll return for you later and take you home. I wonder what we’ll be able to do with you.”

  Rowan left the wolves to their slumber, groaning as he picked up Piero’s body. Lugging it over his shoulders he surveyed the murky depths of the Blackmire that awaited him.

  20

  The Lotu

  Finding the home of the Huntrey’s allies was an easy task for a Hunter such as Rowan who had visited them many times in the six years he had spent at West Anacore. He was one of the few Hunters that was privileged enough to know its exact location as the two factions always kept their distance, should one be attacked.

  Magicians worked inside the highest levels of the Huntrey, casting spells that ensured it would remain invisible to those who had not passed the test at the gates. Unlike the Huntrey, the Blackmire was not protected by the same magic that kept Vampires out, relying solely on the wilderness to deter attackers.

  Thoughts ran wild in his mind. Thinking of the past, a tear ran down Rowan’s face as he remembered Piero walking out from the invisible walls to greet him and his son. The three of them had stood side by side as Rowan took the Vampire bone knife Piero offered him and cut open his hand. Pressing it against the wall, his new home had been unlocked and Piero was the one that had given it to him.

  As he trekked deeper into the Blackmire, the sounds of the forest began to fade and the air grew still. It had a frosty presence about it and the chill started to seep through Rowan’s jacket. Despite his night vision and the dozen times he had been here before, Rowan still found this part of the Blackmire frightening. Apart from the wolves, numerous other strange creatures roamed its darkness and many of them posed a threat to Hunters.

  “Rowan!” He heard a familiar voice call out through the chill and darkness.

  “Largos, it’s good to hear your voice again. It’d be better if I could see you, that is what I came here for after all,” Rowan said.

  “Lucky your
Hunters don't have a sense of smell like mine. Did you come to see me or did you come because the man inside your bag is a Hunter? I can smell him from here,” Largos said.

  “And where is here?” Rowan asked.

  “Here,” Largos said appearing suddenly behind Rowan. “Still can’t see properly even when you’re using night vision? What a shame.”

  Largos was built like Rowan, thick all the way through, however considerably shorter. He had a full set of bushy black hair that came to his ears and a matching moustache. A jeweled dagger rested on his belt almost hidden by the black of his tunic and flamboyant cloak that flicked up around his neck.

  His skin was pure white, a result of no sunlight and the animal blood that his kind drank. Whenever Largos changed into his true form, the long white spidery fingers would shift into lethal claws.

  “You’re like a ghost, Largos. How could I possibly see you? And what’s this bullshit with the dagger? You’re a Vampire, for fuck’s sake, why do you need a weapon?” Rowan asked.

  “I am a Lotu, Rowan. Remember the difference. We don’t drink from humans to survive. Besides, killing animals with weapons helps us forget who we really are. If we don’t use our fangs, things become simpler. Though we are descended from Vampires, the less we feel like them, the less likely we are to kill a human and drink from them again,” Largos said.

  “If you weren’t a Lotu I’d have cut you in half by now,” Rowan said.

  “That’s if you could hit me,” Largos said. “Now I assume you want me to make it look like he was attacked by a Vampire. Could I ask who he was?”

  “No, wait until we get to a place we can talk privately. The less of your kind know about this the better it will be for everybody involved,” Rowan said. “Ah, we’re here.”

  The Lotu village was small, minuscule when compared to the Huntrey. Consisting of no more than fifty low built structures. As they approached, Rowan could make out the figures of other Lotu moving around, the firelight reflecting off their pale skin. Largos made his way into the village to where he kept his tools. Rowan paused, blinking several times, allowing the night vision to fade away before following.

  * * *

  Once inside, Rowan tossed the body of Piero onto the workbench that Largos was standing before. The home Largos owned was no bigger than Barros’ room in the Huntrey and was simply furnished. Aside from their diet setting them aside from other Vampires the Lotu did not crave riches, power or glory. They existed to serve the Hunters and the Huntrey.

  Over the years the Lotu had used themselves as test subjects for many of their innovations that they created to better equip the Hunters in the war they fought. One of the first inventions created after Tal’davin suffered defeat at the hand of Lars Hunter was the blood magic that kept the Huntrey safe from Vampire or prying human eyes. Many Lotu had died trying to perfect the magic.

  Their sacrifice had been worth the risk even with many dying and becoming crippled in the attempt. Without the Lotu, Hunters would have been destroyed by Tal’davin. Ironic, as he had been the first of their kind. Since Tal’davin had turned from his ancient pact, forged between him and Lars Hunter, the Lotu had always distanced them from their allies. The Hunters, in turn offered them protection from other Vampires. Lotu were considered the lowest life forms amongst their kind, even lower than the humans.

  “We are alone. Now tell me, who was he?” Largos asked.

  Rowan stepped forward. He remained silent as he drew the sack down over Piero’s face. Largos blinked several times before leaning down to inspect the dead Hunter that lay before him.

  “You can’t be serious, Rowan. This has to be some kind of joke,” Largos said.

  “I wish it were true. Cut down by one of ours, not a Vampire,” Rowan said.

  “What a coward, did he strike him from behind?” Largos asked.

  “No, I wish that were true as well. The man that killed Piero was Barros Toldar. They fought in what was meant to be a training session; however, they both fell under the effects of the Bloodrush. Barros beat Piero fair but then he went too far.”

  “Say no more. I will deal with his killer,” Largos said.

  “No, Barros is not to be punished! The Bloodrush took over his mind and with him at my side the Huntrey will prosper. Piero named me Head before he died.”

  “Ah, some sense out of this madness at last. You will do well, Rowan Kreen. Now seek Balzac, he should be in the next house over. You will not want to witness what I am about to do to your old friend,” Largos said.

  “I’m staying,” Rowan said crossing his arms. “I want to see this.”

  “Very well, you have been warned. I have not fed for some time, so I do not know how out of hand I will get. You will need your weapons ready at all times,” the Lotu said.

  “Suits me just fine. I’ve had to kill rogue Lotu before,” Rowan said, taking a seat and placing his knives on his legs. “Just remember, attack me, I get to kill you. I could do with some of that after this has happened.”

  “I still recommend you seek Balzac and inform him of what has occurred.”

  “Balzac can wait. I need to see this now,” Rowan said.

  “Very well,” Largos said opening his mouth, snapping his jaw back.

  The transformation was almost simultaneous, his pale human skin shedding instantly into Largos’ claws shot out from his fingertips and Rowan could see the muscle expand throughout his body. He heard the snick as the Lotu’s fangs slid into place, taking position, rearranging the insides of his mouth. The familiar grey colour of the Vampires took the place of Largo’s usually white skin.

  The Lotu bent low over Piero’s body, ripping open his armor and tearing it to shreds. One long claw began its delicate working, digging into Piero’s dead flesh to the knuckle before being run through his chest.

  “Now to take care of the knife punctures,” Largos said to himself engrossed in his terrible work. “Yes, one shall be enough.”

  He held Piero’s head forward bringing the Hunter’s back off the table. Without warning Largos plunged his fist into Piero, his claws extended tearing through flesh and bone bursting out the other side, sending blood and other matter in all directions. With a sickening series of squelches Largos pulled his arm back through the gaping hole, Piero’s heart clutched in his hand.

  “Most curious,” he said holding it up to the light.

  “What is?” Rowan asked rising from his seat.

  “Stay back,” Largos said holding his claws out. “If you look at the heart itself it is black, suggesting it is filled with black blood within. Yet the blood that runs through his arteries and veins in his limbs, is red. Are you sure Piero was a human when he died?”

  “Of course,” Rowan said.

  Largos pushed a claw into the organ, withdrawing it and gently licking it. “Most strange, he tastes like a Vampire. Aside from the colour of his blood, there is nothing to suggest that Piero was human. Did he react to the Fyndfire when he was stabbed?”

  “If you count dying as reacting, then yes. If you don’t, then no. Piero didn’t react at all. He died as a human would.”

  “This is good news,” Largos said. “It means he has not turned, fortunate for both of us. I feared with what was in his system, he could have changed as he died.”

  “Aye, I surely would have noticed on the way here,” Rowan said. “As much as I wish he would come back, if he did he would no doubt kill Barros and myself.”

  “That he would,” Largos said. “Vampires are vengeful souls. Now are you sure nobody else saw this incident? You know the laws as well as I do, Rowan.”

  “Aye, but I had to do something. I could not simply let him and his power go to waste. Even if he murdered one of our most decorated members. Execution was not an option, for either of us. Barros is the best Hunter anyone has seen in years, even if he ran off with one of your kind.”

  “What do you mean one of my kind?” Largos turned snarling exposing his fangs.

  “Nothing at all
,” Rowan said. “I simply meant a Vampire, nothing more.”

  “Good, I only wish you’d respected my kind more. The Lotu and other Vampires are different, Rowan.” He turned back to inspect the body. “Now aside from a few more touches on his face, Piero is finished and I know just the place to put him.”

  “Is it to the north of the Huntrey?” Rowan asked.

  “Aye, it is, but why does that make any difference?”

  “I shouldn’t be telling you this but before he died Piero learnt the location of one of Tal’davin’s amulets. It’s in a cave to the north just over the Delta River. Barros and I need an excuse to get inside and take the amulet.”

  “You’ll stand no chance, my friend. The cave you seek in the old tongue is known as the Caverna de la Oscuridad or the Cavern of Darkness. No human to set foot in there, has come out alive or returned at all. If you really want that amulet, you had best take an army at your back.”

  “Barros seems to believe that he alone can infiltrate the cavern and sneak back out with the amulet. He already has two in his possession.”

  “The young man has no sense, but I see his reasoning, unless he falls and the amulets end up in the wrong hands. One amulet can raise the Red Sky over an area, maybe two can begin to work in a human’s favor if he summons it. You told me that Barros was special, maybe with the amulets he can pull this off.”

  “Perhaps,” Rowan said. “All I know is somehow, the fate of this world rests on the shoulders of his family.”

  “The child,” Largos said.

  “Aye, the child. He seems to be stacking all of his cards on a son that might not even make it to the Huntrey,” Rowan said shaking his head.

  “The man is almost a god amongst mortals and whatever his plan is, Barros will find a way to make it come to fruition. If a Vampire had his mind they could take Taagras. Be glad he’s on our side and not working for the enemy,” Largos said.