by A. C. Cobble
One thing Ben realized they did not have was armor. He mentioned it to Rhys. “Should we have some protection? Maybe a helmet or some chainmail?”
Rhys grinned at him. “Just wait until you get out there and see what we’re up against. The cold and the weight of that much metal will kill you during winter in the Wilds. We have to stay mobile and stay warm.”
Ben frowned and went back to organizing his pack.
At midday, a knock sounded on the door of their shared rooms. Lady Towaal opened it and found two heavily armed individuals on the other side.
“Franklin says you folks could use our assistance,” called a sassy-sounding woman.
Towaal nodded and let the pair inside.
The woman had pale, freckle-sprinkled skin and long red hair that was pulled back into a pony tail. She wore tight fitting fur-lined leathers. A bow was slung over one shoulder next to a quiver full of arrows. On her belt hung two hand axes and Ben thought he saw a long dagger poking out from one of her knee-length boots. She swaggered with the confidence of someone who was sure in her abilities.
A man entered behind her. He moved with a similar strut to the woman. It reminded Ben of two dogs showing off for a new pack. The man carried a dagger on one hip, a compact crossbow hung on the other, and across his back, he carried a massive bastard sword. He wore a tunic of leather-covered scales that draped down almost to his knees. His spiky black hair was barely held in place with a cotton headband.
The woman introduced them. “Corinne and Grunt.”
“Grunt?” asked Amelie.
“Broke my jaw a few years back,” the man explained. “A bunch of assholes started calling me Grunt because the physic wired my mouth shut so it would heal. The only sound I could make was a grunt. It pissed me off, so I broke their jaws too. That was kind of funny, but the name stuck.”
Corinne added, “I think ‘ironic’ is the word you’re looking for, Grunt.”
The man grunted in response.
“I am called Lady Towaal. This is Rhys, Amelie, and Ben,” said Towaal, gesturing to the companions.
“You have a first name, Lady Towaal?” queried Corinne.
“Not one you need to use,” answered Towaal.
Corinne frowned.
“Did Franklin inform you of what we intend to do?” asked Towaal, ignoring Corinne’s sour expression.
Corinne nodded. “He told us. You’re looking for some ancient rock out in the Wilds. He wants us to escort you there and back.”
“Yes,” agreed Towaal. “You should know our mission before you accept. We are looking for something called the Rift, and we intend to destroy it. We’re not certain we know exactly where it lies and there will be numerous dangers in the Wilds.”
“Look, lady,” responded Corinne. “I was born in Skarston, about twenty leagues north of here. I was raised in the Wilds. I don’t know what this Rift is, but you don’t need to tell me about the danger. From what I understand, it’s you who doesn’t know what you’re getting into. Franklin said you’d never been past Northport.”
Towaal smirked. “That is true. I have not been past Northport.”
“Then let me explain some things to you,” scowled Corinne. “Because Franklin asked, I’m willing to lead this foolish expedition, but…”
Towaal interrupted her. “If you come with us, you will not be leading. I will.”
Corinne frowned back and looked around at the rest of the group. “You’ve got one swordsman,” Rhys mock bowed, “one boy, a girl who doesn’t look like she can use that worthless rapier, and yourself, who isn’t even armed. What exactly is your plan when you encounter a demon out there?”
Amelie raised her hand toward Corinne and snapped her fingers. A brilliant spark burst into life between the two women. Corinne scrambled backwards, nearly tripping over a chair.
“What was that!” she shouted.
“Party trick,” replied Amelie with a smirk.
“Seneschal Franklin was apparently remiss in telling you a few details about us and our mission,” said Towaal. “While we are not all swordsmen, or women, we do have a few tricks. Are you sure you want to go with us?”
Grunt snorted. “He wasn’t remiss about the pay. We get you back here safely and there are one thousand gold coins for us to split. I don’t give a damn about what you’re going to do out there. For that much gold, I’ll take you out, help you capture a demon, and train it so you can ride it like a pony!”
The man finished in a huff then crossed his arms, waiting.
Corinne stepped forward again, eyeing Amelie out of the side of her eye, and agreed. “As Grunt says, the price is right. Also, my fa…Franklin, didn’t exactly ask. I’m going to have a little chat with how he explained this to me, but he’s sending Grunt and I because it’s dangerous, not in spite of the danger. You go in the Wilds these days, you’ll need us.”
Tracks in the Snow
The next morning, Ben’s booted feet thumped down a set of stone steps, and he walked into an open courtyard. Heavy, steel grey clouds dropped a misty rain and a chill wind whipped it into a frenzy.
The rain blew into Ben’s face. He blinked his eyes, trying to get his bearings in the busy cobblestone space.
“Well, this is a pleasant day to start a journey,” muttered Rhys, who passed by and waded into the dreary morning.
Corinne and Grunt were already outside, waiting for them.
“Morning starts early in the Wilds,” chirped Corinne.
“No need for the bluster, girl,” remarked Rhys. “I’ve been in the Wilds once or twice myself.”
Rhys removed one of his ubiquitous silver flasks and took a quick sip. Corinne looked on frowning.
“Keeps me warm,” explained Rhys. He offered the flask to Corrine, who waved it away.
“You say you’ve been in the Wilds?” she challenged. “I know most of the hunters around Northport, but I don’t know you.”
“Who says I’m a hunter?” Rhys covered a yawn with the back of his hand. “Anyway, what you mean is you know most of the hunters who are active around Northport these days. The world is a big place, and you haven’t been at this very long.”
“I’ve been hunting demons for three years now, longer than most,” growled Corinne.
Rhys took a final sip from his flask before putting it away. “This is going to be a long trip, isn’t it?”
Ben thought it would help if they didn’t start the quest at each other’s throats, so he sidled up next to Grunt. The man was blunt, but seemed less prickly than Corinne.
“How long have you been hunting demons?” inquired Ben.
Grunt thought about it then answered. “About five years now.”
“That’s a long time, isn’t it?” responded Ben. “Are you from Skarston too, like Corinne?”
“I’m originally from Whitehall,” answered the hunter. “Served in the guards there but had a bit of a disagreement about a debt.”
“You owed somebody money?” wondered Ben.
“No,” Grunt replied. “Someone owed me. Things got a little heated one night and the guy got banged up a little. Well, pretty bad if I’m being honest. Turns out he was some minor lordling. I decided it was best for me to change the scenery.”
“You said you were in the guards. Did you know Master Brinn?” asked Ben.
Grunt glanced at Ben in surprise. “You know Brinn?”
Ben nodded. “I passed through Whitehall early this year and spent about a week practicing with the guardsmen. I got to spar with Brinn one morning.”
“How’d you do?” asked Grunt curiously.
“I got a couple of strikes in. Then he knocked me down and spent the next bell pounding on me.” Ben jokingly rubbed his back side and Grunt chuckled at him.
“Aye,” agreed Grunt. “He has a mean swing with that two-hander.”
Grunt reached out a hand to Ben and they clasped forearms. “Good to meet you, Ben.”
The single gate of Northport stood open and the si
x companions made their way through. Ben felt a sense of trepidation as they turned north and started down a worn road. The hard-packed dirt was softened by the light drizzling rain, but it had not yet turned to mud.
We’re likely to die out here thought Ben as he stomped through a shallow puddle, but the fear of death strangely held no power over him. He’d committed to this mission and committed fully, meaning that no amount of danger would turn him back. If they were killed attempting to destroy the Rift, it would be worth it. Even though this wasn’t necessarily his problem, and not his fight, he refused to be the kind of man who would turn his back on people who needed him. The citizens of Northport and the rest of the world would be protected as best as he was able. As they continued marching, his resolve grew and grim determination spread across his face.
“You’re a serious chap, aren’t you?” asked Corinne.
Ben jumped when she spoke. He hadn’t noticed she was walking beside him.
“A bit jumpy though,” she continued. “Let me guess, you were some sort of government functionary before you fell in with this crew? You have the look of someone who thinks deeply about stuff no one else does.”
Ben frowned at her, unsure how to take that. “No, I was a brewer when they found me,” he finally responded.
The girl blinked, uncertain if he was joking with her. “You were a brewer? You made ale?”
Ben nodded.
Grunt called from behind them, “I knew I’d like you!”
“What about you?” Ben asked Corinne. “How did you end up a hunter?”
Corinne grimaced. “Like a lot of people up here, I just didn’t have anything better to do.”
“Tell ‘em the truth, girl,” barked Grunt. “We’re gonna be with these folks a long time, hopefully. We may as well be friendly.”
Corinne sighed. “It’s a long story, but very well. I think I told you yesterday I grew up in Skarston. It’s a little town about twenty leagues north of here. We’ll pass through it actually.”
They kept walking. Ben noticed Amelie had moved closer and was listening.
Corinne continued, “Well, up there, you’ve got to learn to defend yourself, whether you’re a hunter or a baker. It wasn’t uncommon for people to get picked off by demons when they were out alone. Every few years, we’d get a swarm attacking the village itself.” She shrugged. “You get used to it after a while.”
Ben winced. The demon attack in Farview had shaken the entire village for weeks. He couldn’t imagine living life with that as a constant threat.
“Anyway,” she kept going, “my da is a bit of a nervous type and didn’t want his girl going off and getting eaten in the Wilds, so he trained me with this.” She tapped the bow hanging on her shoulder. “And he trained me well. By the time I was full grown, I could shoot better than any of the women in town and all but two or three men. That kind of thing makes you a valuable resource in a place like Skarston. I got plenty of attention from the boys, of course,” she said with a wink.
Ben played along and replied, “I bet you did.” He tried to ignore the feel of Amelie’s eyes boring into the back of his head.
“My da was as serious about protecting me from the boys as he was the demons. He was a big man back then, before he got old. He was just as good with a bow as me and no slouch with a broadsword. Most of the boys started paying attention to the other girls once we got old enough for things to get interesting.” She sighed. “I felt like I was missing out.”
Ben listened intently. It was like talking to one of the older girls back in Farview. He knew plenty whose story would match Corinne’s. A girl’s father was the same where ever you went.
“As these things go, I started to get a little rebellious.” She smirked. “I made some choices that, looking back, I shouldn’t have. I ended up falling hard for one of the few boys who was brave enough to sneak around behind my da’s back. He convinced me to come with him into the Wilds. We had a big plan, me with my bow and him with his spear and sword. We thought we’d make a perfect team–hunters and lovers. Well, here is where it turns sad. My da was away when I left. He’d been given an important position in Northport and wasn’t around in Skarston much anymore. He was still connected enough that he heard about it though. He couldn’t come after me, so he sent my brother. My brother was a good man, but he didn’t have the skills that Da and I have.”
She sighed heavily. “I didn’t even know my brother was coming after me. Didn’t know until I found him two weeks later. Dead. He didn’t get more than a day north of Skarston when a demon surprised him.”
Ben cringed. “That is awful.”
Corinne nodded. “Aye, it was. Losing my brother hurt too much. I didn’t know how to cope.”
“I can’t imagine,” said Ben consolingly.
Walking along the dirt road, she kept talking, “I found out the boy I was with was only interested in what was between my legs, not comforting a girl about her brother’s death. He up and left a few days later. I was mad at him, I was mad at my da and brother, but mostly, I was mad at myself. I went pretty hard for a couple of years, not really caring about anything. Drank too much, spent a lot of time with the boys.” She shook her head ruefully. “Not my proudest moments. One day, three years ago, I finally woke up,” she said with a grim expression. “Skarston got attacked by the biggest swarm we’d seen in decades. I was drunk as a goat, but I ran out into the streets like everyone else and tried to defend the town. I put arrows in half a dozen demons. I think may have killed one or two. It was the first thing that made me feel good in a long time. I realized I was wasting time being mad at everything. It was a demon that killed my brother. I sobered up the next day and I’ve been killing demons since then.”
“Tell them the rest,” demanded Grunt.
“Oh, right. He always wants me to mention this part. I put an arrow in him too,” she said unapologetically, hooking her thumb to point at Grunt. “I flew one right into his back. I wish I could say it was a great shot, but it was an accident. I felt pretty bad about it at the time, but he’s fine now. Tough man. You wouldn’t know it though, if you heard how much he bitched about being shot.”
“You shot him with an arrow?” exclaimed Amelie incredulously. She looked back at Grunt and the hunter nodded confirmation.
“Like I said,” answered Corinne. “I was drunk as a goat.”
“If you put an arrow in a man, I think you should take some responsibility for it,” claimed Grunt. “Drunk or not. We’ve been traveling together now for three years. I’m still waiting for an apology.”
Corinne shrugged. “I don’t lie and I’m not that sorry. I’ll buy you an ale.”
***
The first night on the road, they stayed at a small inn in a town call Kapinpak. The inn wasn’t nice, but it was getting cold at night. Not even Towaal was eager to rush into that when they would be facing the Wilds soon.
“Why is it called the Wilds?” asked Ben over a steaming joint of mutton and a mug of poor quality ale.
“It’s untamed,” answered Rhys. “No one lives there, and for as long as anyone can remember, no one ever has.”
“Is it,” Ben paused, unsure what he wanted to ask. “Is it different?”
Rhys shook his head.
Grunt spoke up. “It’s further north. You start getting up in the mountains, so it’s cold, and of course, you’ve got the demons. Other than that, it’s not too different from the forests near Northport. Same trees, same dirt.” The big man sipped the slightly sour ale and made a face. “I’m not sure this should count as my free ale.”
“You always say that,” grumbled Corinne.
“This stuff tastes like horse piss!” complained Grunt.
“Then why have you had four of them?” argued Corinne.
Their banter reminded Ben of the way Rhys acted—always putting up a front and always trying to make a joke out of everything. He supposed that once you’d seen enough hard times, you force yourself to enjoy the good ones.
>
Ben leaned forward with his elbows on the table and, hiding behind his hands, made a face at Amelie. She stuck her tongue out at him then rolled her eyes at the hunters.
“Brewer,” asked Corinne suddenly. “Where did you get those scars?”
She was looking at his arms. Ben followed her gaze down. With his hands held up, his sleeves had fallen to show part of his forearms. On one arm, he had the three parallel cuts from the demon at Snowmar. The other had deep punctures from climbing over the glass-studded wall the first night after fleeing the Sanctuary.
“Which ones?” he replied.
“Either, I guess.”
He tapped his right arm and explained, “I got this climbing over a wall one night. I found out too late the owner didn’t want people doing that.”
Corinne snorted.
Ben continued, ignoring the snort. “And this arm, I got this from a demon.”
The red-haired girl suddenly sat forward and looked at him hard. “You’ve fought a demon?”
Ben grinned and shrugged casually. “A few times.”
Corinne and Grunt shared a look. Ben sensed a growing appreciation on their part for the company they were with. He wasn’t sure why, but so far, Lady Towaal and Rhys had been circumspect about their abilities. The lack of trust wasn’t healthy for a company embarking on a quest like they were, but it was their story to tell, not his.
Lady Towaal cleared her throat and interrupted.
“Let’s talk about where we are going to go,” she suggested.
They all leaned forward, scooting empty platters and half full ale mugs aside for Lady Towaal to lay out one of the volumes she had borrowed from the Librarian.
“I think he may charge you if you don’t return that,” remarked Rhys.
“We needed it more than he did,” replied Towaal sharply.
She flipped quickly through to a page showing a rough map which Ben took to be the Wilds. Jagged upside down Vs looked to depict mountains, and there were wavy lines he thought could be rivers. In the center was a small symbol, which Towaal placed her finger on.