Hemlock (The Manhunters Book 2)

by Jesse Teller

  Rayph turned back around to see Grelow’s medallion throbbing with a gentle light.

  “Hebian, you just used magic,” Grelow said.

  Rayph fought back a curse and nodded. “Maybe I did.”

  Grelow turned around and walked back to a desk across the hall. He grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled something on it. He whistled and a guard came running. “I need you to get this to the Rattlesnake as soon as possible. Ride as fast as you can.” Grelow shoved the kid to the door and crossed the hall again stopping a breath away from the bars. He pulled out a crystal globe, and Rayph’s skin crawled.

  “You know what this is?” Grelow said.

  Rayph shook his head, though he knew his invention on sight.

  “This is going to suck up your aura and make casting impossible for you,” Grelow said. “Any spells you have on you will dissipate, and you will be without a chance of escape.” He stepped closer and nodded. “Because I know your name, Hebian, and it is not Hebian.”

  Rayph opened his mouth to speak the words that would open a portal to allow his escape, when Grelow tossed the globe at the floor, and Rayph screamed. The words lifted in his mind, gripping power from his aura, only to have it ripped away and captured in the globe. Rayph threw himself at the bars, reaching for the globe in desperation, but Grelow was too fast. He snatched up the glass and backed away.

  “Hiding in the cells was a masterstroke, Ivoryfist. But you see, we were ready for you. You slipped us in Mystal. You got the better of us in Brook Lee, but this time we were prepared. The Rattlesnake will be here soon. Why don’t you get comfortable?”

  Rayph cursed and dropped onto his bed. He thought of his crew and where they might be. Smear was a hope, so was Trysliana, but this place had been built with people like them in mind. Dreark couldn’t help him and keep his post. Rayph cursed his stupidity and waited for Toc-a-roc.

  A few minutes later, the Rattlesnake walked in. He waved a hand at Grelow and motioned to the nearby prisoners. “Move everyone away from here. I want to be alone with my friend.”

  The man grabbed a chair and pulled it close to the bars. He straddled it and gripped its back.

  “Got you,” Toc-a-roc said. The man, with the deep chestnut skin of an elder elondri, peered in at Rayph. His black hair was twisted into tight braids that gripped his scalp, the tips of the braids tied with bones and trinkets. He wore a set of rattlesnake gloves and flexed his fingers tight as he looked in at Rayph. “How long has it been?”

  Rayph looked into the eyes of his old friend and shook his head, “Not sure.”

  “Hesh, I would say. That was a battle, huh?” Toc-a-roc said. “But like you have many times, you fought your way free. Almost caught whiff of you in Dorf a few months back. Had to say that was well-timed.”

  “Had to get some distance from you,” Rayph said.

  “Yeah, it was brilliant, had me looking there for weeks. Wasted so much time in that city searching every hole and crevice for your crew. You slipped me good there. Have to say, Phomax was furious after that one.”

  “That was not my intention,” Rayph said. “You took the job.”

  “Who else was going to do it?” Toc replied. “You have no idea what you were going to be facing, or what this nation would have become had I not agreed to hunt you down.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me?”

  “He was calling in bounty hunters from all over the world. He was crazed with thoughts of revenge. He was going to give my crew’s power to every one of those bounty hunters. Do you know what that would have meant?”

  “Absolute power over every mechanism of the law. Power to walk into the home of any noble and take over his fiefdom. The power to walk into a city and take it over with the flash of that crest and the word of command?”

  “Yeah, he was going to give it to every one of those devils, and what would have become of the nation?”

  “He’s not that stupid,” Rayph said. But he knew Phomax was. The king had nearly handed every power over to a group of thugs just so he could catch Rayph and his Manhunters.

  Toc-a-roc lifted an eyebrow. “He’s not that stupid. That’s what you’re going with? We both know he is that stupid. So in order to stop him from destroying this nation, I told him I would hunt you. Said I would bring you in. That was five years ago. He is near a breaking point. I have to bring you in. You understand, don’t you?”

  “I understand that when you were driven from your homeland, I spoke up for you. I convinced Termalion to give you a home here in Lorinth and a job.”

  “And I have been doing it now for quite a while. The elite guard of the nation has been strong ever since. Yes, I thank you for that opportunity, but you lost your mind in there somewhere.”

  “Phomax is a pig,” Rayph spat.

  “Yeah, he is, but you should have stayed anyway. How many bad kings have we seen together? They come and go, but we remain. You and I guard a nation that would have folded thousands of years ago without us. We are the caregivers. We keep this nation afloat. You with your hand on the helm, me with my nose on the prow, but you abandoned your post. Where does that leave me?”

  “Adrift.”

  “I wish. No, I am not adrift, I am directed by the wisdom and whims of the most decadent, most ignorant king Lorinth has had in generations.”

  “Then join me. Let me guide your crew and do good in this nation.”

  “Can’t, and now you know why. I step away and Lorinth is handed over to the ruthless. I have to bring you in, just like I did Dran.”

  Rayph felt his gut drop, and he gripped the bars. He looked Rattlesnake in the eye and saw a glimmer of something, sly and clever. Rayph knew the man’s mind, knew him to be almost without peer when it came to strategy.

  “What do you mean?”

  Toc-a-roc tugged on his long flowing mustache and nodded. “Well, she did help you with the kidnapping, didn’t she?”

  Rayph ran fingers through his filthy hair and gritted his teeth. “She wasn’t involved—”

  “Lie,” Toc-a-roc said. “You know better than to try to lie to me. She may not have planned it, but she had to have known it was going to happen. There was no way you could have done it without involving her. She had to stand down or she would have stopped it.”

  Rayph looked at his feet thinking of the warrior woman he had watched grow up alongside the men of the barracks. Dran Demar’s mother died when she was a babe, and the soldier who had fathered her took her into his group when she was tiny. Living alongside men had transformed her into a soldier way before her time, and after serving in Toc-a-roc’s unit, Dran was promoted to royal guardswoman by Rayph himself.

  “Was she executed?” Rayph could not look Toc-a-roc in the eye when he asked.

  “Not yet. Phomax wants you to have to watch it.”

  Rayph gripped the bars and raged. They shook in their place but held. “Damn it, Toc, this is Dran we are talking about!”

  “Yeah, I know. She was the best who ever served under me, but she crossed a line for you. She has to pay for that. Did you think I was going to let that go?”

  “You have to set her free,” Rayph said. “I’ll go willingly, just let her go.”

  “I already have you. And I already have her. Give me your crew and I will talk to Phomax about exiling her,” Rattlesnake said. “But you can’t do that. That is a half-dozen of one. So you will watch her die. Phomax will do something degrading to her body, and you will have to see it happen.”

  Rayph reached through the bars, and Toc-a-roc stepped back and out of the way. “Don’t blame me for this. You involved her. I am just doing a job here.”

  “How will you feel about your job when you watch me burn? How will you feel about your job when they execute Dran?”

  “If it means saving this nation from the hands of the bounty hunters and other scum she was almost given to, I would do it myself. I would call upon my ancestors and reduce you to char right now.”

  Rayph lowered his head.


  “I took an oath when you gave me a job here. I vowed to serve this country and protect her from all enemies. Tell me you want me to go back on that. Tell me to hand this nation over.”

  Rayph slumped back on his bed and gripped his hair. It was all too damn loud. Too many consequences, too many things rotating around him.

  “Can I tell you why I’m here?” Rayph asked.

  “Vampires?” Toc-a-roc said.

  “Yes, vampires, they are all over this city. They have infiltrated every walk of life here. The pirates were going to smuggle them out of the city and move them around the country and to other parts of the world. I locked them in, but they are still able to move—”

  “Stop,” Rattlesnake said. “Enough.”

  “What? I’m telling the truth!”

  “What do you know about me?” Toc-a-roc said.

  “Well, can you narrow it down for me? I have known you for a while.”

  “Focus. Rayph, what do you know about my focus?”

  “It’s going to get us all killed,” Rayph snapped.

  “My focus is ruthless. It won’t allow me to get off track. It won’t allow me to blink. I am not going to worry about your vampires until I have you locked up. That’s just the way I work. When I have you in your cell in the castle, I will request permission from Phomax to begin an inquiry into this matter, but until then, you’re all I care about.”

  “You’re a fool, and you are going to be the downfall of this nation.”

  “Maybe.” Toc-a-roc stood and grabbed the chair. He returned it to the desk and turned around. “You’re under arrest by the authority of the king’s Head Hunters. You may not make a plea for your innocence until you stand before the king. Make yourself comfortable. You will be here until I can nail down whatever allies you still have in the city. I’m betting they won’t run. I’m betting they will come here to pry you loose. When they do, I will be ready. ’Til later, old friend.”

  Rattlesnake turned and left. His trap was set. Now all that was left to do was wait for Rayph’s men to walk into it.

  The Heart of the Venture

  “There is something wrong with him, brothers,” Horsehair said with a laugh. “This bastard is unhinged.” He slapped Aaron on the back as the crew of the Venture fell in around Aaron. He scowled at them all. He hid that tiny place within him, which longed for the respect of men like this, with a shove of the man before him and a pressing through the crowd.

  “Alright, Aaron,” Oak spat. “You have done some killing. Now it’s time for cleaning. Get below and sort grog and salted meats. I want the larder scraped clean and the livestock seen to. Crap and barrels, ya dog.”

  Aaron looked at the big brown garq and laughed.

  “I’m a warrior,” he stated. “I don’t clean. I don’t scrape crap. I kill people and I bleed. That is what you will get from me, not a bit more.” Aaron glared at the great man and slid his eye to every man before him. They all looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Avent smiled. Giggles giggled.

  “Boy,” Oak said, walking from the steer deck to the main. “You misunderstand. You are not a sword for hire on the Venture. You are not a passenger. If you want a spot on my ship, you will join her crew.” He wrapped his arm across Aaron’s shoulders and walked him to the great gate that dropped into the bowels of the ship. He leaned over and pointed with his thick calloused finger. “Do you see that right there?” Oak said. “That is where we load cargo into the belly of our fat darling of a ship. This is her insides. This is where you live.” He shoved Aaron, who wheeled his arms to keep himself from falling. Oak stepped back, and with one solid kick to Aaron’s middle, dropped him into the belly of the ship. With a great heaving of the door they slammed the deck closed.

  Aaron hit the floor, landing on his back and slamming his head on the hard wood. His vision flashed bright white, and he fought for air that would not come. He kicked and gasped and struggled. He fought and panicked until the air slowly came. He sat up and roared. He shoved his way to his feet as he heard a beast bellow. There was a great heaving of air before another cry sounded as something big shifted in the dark. Aaron jumped to his feet and pulled his sword. He stared in the dark for any sign of what was out there before he heard a whooshing sound, and something suddenly hit him. He flew back through the air, slamming into the wall and dropping, stunned.

  He sat rimmed in the light of a porthole dazed until a massive bandaged hand slapped out of the darkness and grabbed his sword. Aaron made to grasp it, but it was pulled into the darkness. Aaron stood in the light, staring out into the black with fear, real and pounding in his chest. A huge nose sniffed and he heard his sword thrown off to the side to rattle against the wall and floor.

  Whatever it was stood. A great blob of black swayed before him, and Aaron let his mind clear. He grabbed his dagger and held it before him. A fist larger than he could ever expect, and harder than steel, swung out fast, connecting with Aaron’s arm. The dagger flew wild, and Aaron grunted in surprise and fear. He staggered back before standing his ground and roaring into the darkness.

  He stared, unaware of what to expect.

  A massive head erupted from the dark to bray in his face. The head was huge the way a horse was huge, large in the way a cliff could be large. It possessed a mouth great enough to swallow Aaron whole. Its long, sandy blond hair hung limp and filthy in its face but did nothing to hide the single two-foot wide eye embedded in the middle of its forehead.

  Aaron pushed back, fear rising up like bile before a purge, and he fumbled behind him for any weapon to fight with. He found an unyielding wall. He snarled, stood his ground, and curled his fist.

  “Fine then, have at me,” he spat. “I have fought bigger, and I have killed mightier.”

  The deck above him erupted in laughter, and Aaron cursed. “You are all bastards and will die by my hand,” he shouted. They all laughed again.

  “What the hell are you?” Aaron coughed. The stench down here was immense.

  The beast stuck its head out into the light and smiled. Its teeth were filthy and randomly missing, its face smeared with dirt and what Aaron could only imagine was feces. The great beast laughed a brute’s laugh and reached out a big finger to poke Aaron’s belly.

  Aaron smacked the hand away and scowled. “Touch me again and I will—” But when he looked in the creature’s face again, he saw a modest intelligence and overwhelming compassion. “You are not to touch me. Do you understand? Keep your fingers and hands off.”

  The cyclops nodded.

  “Go get my sword and my dagger, and if you touch them again, I will skewer you with them.”

  The giant creature nodded and crawled away. Aaron heard it throwing things about before it came back scraping something across the floor. It handed the sword back, gripping the blade with its thick calloused hand and jutting it out at him. Aaron took the handle, and the beast released it. It reached into the light, pinching its thumb and forefinger together. Aaron could not see why until it opened and the dagger fell out from between its fingers.

  Aaron heaved a sigh and looked up as the crew above him stared down through the lattice grate. “What now?” he shouted.

  “Now you clean him. If you try to hurt him, I will feed you to him. He is dear to us. Consider him the heart of the ship,” Horsehair called down.

  “What do I call him?” Aaron shook his head and looked at the beast. “What do I call you?”

  “Mast,” the beast said. Its voice was deep as a chasm and loud as a storm.

  “I am Aaron the Marked.”

  The cyclops’s finger reached slowly for Aaron’s face. The great finger kept coming. Aaron fought against pulling back and set his hand on his dagger hilt before the finger traced his cheek where his black scar lay.

  “Demon,” the creature said.

  “You have heard of me?” Aaron said.

  The huge beast drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Yes.”

  “Well, don’t call me Demon. It’s n
ot accurate anymore. Call me Aaron. Not the Marked, or the Sleepless, or even warrior. You can call me Aaron.”

  The man grinned, and Aaron smiled.

  “You are a mess. Why are you down here? It is cramped down here. Why not go topside?”

  The cyclops shook its head. “Scare humans, guards will hurt. Must hide.”

  Aaron realized how unfair that was, but also knew if he had seen this monster on deck, he would have wanted to kill it. Fear alone would have driven him to vie against it.

  “Well, we had better clean you up. You smell like a dog’s ass,” Aaron said.

  Buckets of soapy water, and a deck brush. Every time the soap made a bubble, the cyclops giggled. It did not sound much like a giggle, though Aaron knew that was what it was. It sounded like a boulder rolling down a rocky slope. It sounded like boards breaking. It sounded like a distant thunder. Aaron shook his head and pulled the creature’s shirt off. It was massive as a sail. Aaron whistled up at the deck. The trap was thrown wide and a sailor Aaron did not know stared down at him with a smile crooked across his face.

  “Take this and hang it up to dry.” Aaron reared back and heaved the great wet garment. It slopped into the air to drop in a great slap. Aaron cursed and threw again. The third time, the man snatched it out of the air and heaved it over. “Can you leave the trap open?” Aaron asked as the man kicked it closed again.

  Aaron growled and went back to the scrubbing.

  Mast listened while Aaron talked. He did not interrupt. He nodded at all the right times and laughed when Aaron said something funny. It was obvious to Aaron the beast was smart enough to follow him, but he knew him not brilliant.

  “Peter needs me,” Aaron said. “They all do.”

  “They all do,” Mast repeated. He slapped his great hand on the floor and shouted. “Got to get you there!” Mast hollered. He kicked his legs and Aaron rolled out of the way. Mast punched the floor and threw his huge arms around in a flurry. Aaron stood back watching until the cyclops slowed and settled.

  Aaron stepped back into the light and smiled at his new friend. “You understand now, don’t you?”