The Huntresses' Game

by Joe Jackson

  “You named her to honor our daughter?” she asked rhetorically.

  “I named her to honor my friend.”

  Cestriana barked a sob, but it was as joyful as it was tinged with pain, and more tears fell from her cheeks. “Come. Come! Share a meal with us, honored guest.”

  Kari bowed gracefully and followed the two back to their tent, accompanied by the slow-moving but sharp-witted elder. He touched Kari on the shoulder, and smiled openly when she regarded him. She helped him get settled comfortably in the family’s tent, and noted once again that most of the tent’s usual occupants were absent. Were they all out farming, gathering, or hunting? Kari pushed the thoughts aside and seated herself near the extinguished fire pit, and several more mallasti joined the small gathering, mostly females who sat with Cestriana and adored Kari’s child.

  “Where are all of your people?” she asked the elder.

  “The Overking called for additional soldiers, and many of our people were duty-bound to answer the call,” he returned. “Dozens of our people went off to war, leaving many children to an insufficient number of caretakers. Thankfully, our last cycle of children has been weaned, so the strain is not too much on our females, but they are still woefully overworked with so many young, active pairs of mischievous paws.”

  Kari had to make an effort not to laugh at mischievous paws. She was disturbed by the notion that no matter what happened, whether the Overking’s forces on Irrathmor succeeded or failed, people were going to suffer. If the Overking’s armies were successful, then Sakkrass’ people fell, but if the Overking’s forces failed, then the people of Mehr’Durillia suffered. It was a terrible situation, one that left Kari feeling helpless and a little hopeless. She wanted nothing more in that moment than to go decapitate this world’s idiotic and despotic ruler, and possibly free the peoples of two worlds with one stroke of the blade. But that would never happen.

  A fire was started in the pit, and some meat and carved vegetables were put on spits to roast over it. Kari compared it to her first visit, when she and her friends had been exiled to the village square to eat alone, not offered even a taste of the mallasti food except by one kind male. To be invited into Cestriana’s home and offered a meal wasn’t what Kari was looking for, but it was the outward expression of what she’d been seeking. She wanted Cestriana’s absolution, to ease the woman’s pain and burden, and to offer her some bit of hope.

  “Sorry to hear that,” Kari offered after a pause. “I imagine King Morduri must not be happy about this.”

  “No one is happy about this. Those who go off to war do not return. But this is not the time or the place for such discussion. Let us enjoy this meal, and celebrate the little one you have been blessed with by the gods.”

  Cestriana was talking with the other mallasti females in beshathan, and one of them rose and excused herself from the tent. Kari sat quietly and watched the other women fawn over her child, who did her best to walk with her hands held up, giggling and smiling the entire time. She paid no mind to the way her playmates looked compared to her family; the mallasti women were no strangers to raising children, and it showed.

  The other female returned just before the food was ready to be served, and without even asking, she began wrapping Kari in one of their traditional woven pup carriers. It was different than the usual ones, though, cleverly designed with clasps so it could be fitted around Kari’s wings. It was soft and comfortable, and when Uldriana was handed back to Kari, the little girl slid into it snugly and started cooing, close to her mother’s scent and warmth.

  “Thank you,” Kari said.

  The food was prepared and passed around, and Kari waited, remembering her previous visit. Sure enough, the mallasti took up a low song that was haunting and yet beautiful, an obvious prayer of some kind, and though Kari knew virtually nothing of their deity, she paid her respects along with them, if silently. The expressions of the mallasti people were appreciative when they saw Kari had waited along with their prayers. Though conversation was virtually nonexistent while they ate, the atmosphere was light and warm.

  When the meal was finished, Cestriana rose and took down a pendant from the central nexus of poles supporting the tent. She handed it reverently to Kari, and said, “This belonged to my daughter. I give it to you. Let your daughter wear it if she so pleases, in remembrance of who she is named for.”

  Kari rubbed her thumb across the mallasti-like countenance of Be’shatha, and she put the pendant on. “When she is old enough, I will,” she promised. “In the meantime, I will carry it with me, that Be’shatha will be with me as I travel among your people.”

  The eyes of the hyena-folk went wide with that declaration. “Be careful! Even speaking the Great Mother’s name is punishable by death.”

  Let them try, Kari thought, but she knew better than to say as much or really hope for such an outcome. “Of course,” she said with a deferential nod, and rose to her feet. “I must take my leave. I have an appointment that I cannot delay.”

  “Thank you for honoring our daughter,” Cestriana said, her words echoed by her mate. She rose and approached, and graced Uldriana with a touch of her nose to the child’s. She let out a laugh and smiled in response to the child’s own, and Kari gladly leaned in for an embrace. “May the Great Mother watch over you even in her slumber.”

  “And you as well,” Kari answered. She turned to the elder as he rose slowly to his own feet. “Thank you for welcoming me to your village, and your home. I am deeply honored.”

  “Safe travels,” he returned.

  Kari left the tent and ascended the hill, the climb much easier now with Uldriana snug in the woven carrier. Kari turned at the crest of the hill and saw all of the villagers watching her egress, and she waved farewell before continuing on her way. The guards, too, offered her a polite farewell, which she returned. The descent down the hillside was steep, but Kari felt so much lighter, a weight lifted from her shoulders and her heart.

  As the coach came into sight, its driver and escorts sprang into action, getting ready to depart immediately. Kari looked west into the afternoon sun, hazy and crimson again now that she was back in the Overking’s realm, and she sighed.

  Now came the trial.

  Chapter IV – The Garden of the Huntress

  The coach rolled along for a couple of days, and despite the discomfort of sitting for interminable stretches of time, it was a pleasant trip. King Koursturaux’ seat was wide, deep, and well-padded, which made it comfortable to sit in several different positions, as well as being perfect for a nursing mother. The opposite bench was comfortable to sleep on as well, and with the abundance of blankets, Kari was able to make a little nest for Uldriana to sleep in. Though it was supposedly winter on Mehr’Durillia, Kari couldn’t tell by the temperature.

  Her escorts weren’t exactly personable, but they did spend the majority of the day sitting in seats that were likely far less comfortable than Kari’s own. The erestram, who declined to give Kari his name, kept pace beside the fast-paced coach, and was allowed to rest at night while Durisha kept watch. The harmauth female assured Kari that watches were a formality and nothing more, particularly within the Overking’s realm. With such a powerful creature watching over her, and the still, warm quiet of the night, Kari found it easy to sleep.

  Approaching Mas’tolinor, Kari was presented with a breathtaking sight. Beyond the hills and forests of Sorelizar and the jagged crags and bluffs to the south lay a pass leading northwest, up into a long range of high, proud peaks. Orange glow on the sky or the underside of lazy passing clouds suggested there were volcanoes within the range itself, but none were close enough to give Kari pause. It lent a foreboding air to the entrance to King Koursturaux’ realm, though, and Kari wondered if the entire place would be a nightmare, or if it would reflect its nickname of The Garden of the Huntress.

  Despite how close they seemed at first glance, it took some time to reach the range and then pass through it. Kari was surprised when the coa
ch came to a stop along the pass, and she wondered if anyone might be stupid enough to waylay the king’s own vehicle. She glanced out the window, and soon the horned visage of the harmauth appeared. “Come, take a look. You will not likely see such a sight where you come from.”

  Kari scooped up Uldriana and descended from the coach with a helping hand from the harmauth. When she looked northward, her jaw fell open slightly. She had indeed seen sights like this back home, particularly when passing through the mountains during the War, but the view before her was impressive. While the mountains stretched west and north, cupping the realm before her, what she could see was a tapestry of open land, lush and beautiful, untouched by the obvious ravages of war, famine, or even the volcanoes that lurked among the peaks. In those first few moments, Kari could see orchards, farms, forests, lakes, rivers, and in the distance, a solitary bluff, like a mountain that had its top half removed.

  “That is our destination: the city of Maurinoth, and Her Majesty’s winter palace,” Durisha said, pointing toward the bluff. “We could reach it on the morrow, but Her Majesty gave strict instructions that we should stop in Maurinoth and remain there, so that you are brought to the palace in the morning.”

  Kari nodded. It was apparent King Koursturaux didn’t want to waste a moment of the time Kari spent in her palace, which was a nice gesture. “Where do you come from?” the demonhunter asked casually, wondering if the harmauth would even answer.

  “I live in the palace with Her Majesty,” Durisha answered, confused. She shook her great, horned head when she realized what Kari meant after a moment, though, and gestured to the east. “Ah, our mother came originally from Zaphatar, realm of King Garrivokt.”

  Zaphatar, Kari thought, trying to remember what her friends had discovered in the many atlases and books of the Overking’s library. “The Hills of Malice?”

  Durisha grunted a laugh. “Come now, let us take our usual break here, and then be on our way quickly. Your audience with Her Majesty is near!”

  The harmauth sounded genuinely excited about that, and it made Kari smile. She was a bit nervous about meeting the demon king, but she remembered what Celigus had said about how the people of Mehr’Durillia didn’t all hate the kings. “You like working for King Koursturaux?” Kari asked, though she wasn’t sure what kind of answer she expected aside from yes.

  “Of course,” Durisha answered, curiosity in her gaze. She waved one of those massive hands, which Kari realized had only three fingers and a thumb. “Most people fear the kings, and rightly so. My sister and I were raised by Her Majesty from the time we were but calves. She has ever treated us well, even as her bodyguards, and I would dare say it is a pleasure to serve her, and so closely.”

  The harmauth glanced across at the erestram, who was leaning against the side of the coach, and Kari followed her gaze. “I was purchased by Her Majesty at auction in Anthraxis,” the wolf-man said. “It was probably the best thing that has happened to me. Surely she is a strict and demanding monarch, but she is fair and not prone to fits of violence like my old master.”

  Kari declined to ask who that might have been. She knew what it was like to dredge up memories of abuse, and it wasn’t something she would do even to her enemies. She bounced Uldriana in her lap, and the little girl started giggling. Durisha watched with interest, and glanced only briefly at the elestram tending to their horses, or whatever the beasts were called. Kari could see that particular light in the harmauth’s eyes, which made her smile again. “Would you like to hold her?”

  Durisha seemed shocked at the question, but quickly held her hands out. Instead, Kari stood Uldriana up, holding her by the hands, and stutter-walked the infant toward the harmauth. Uldriana squealed with glee, and Kari didn’t miss the snorted chuckle of the erestram behind her. Durisha picked up the little girl once Uldriana reached her, the infant dwarfed in those massive hands, and she held the child up before her face. Soon, little hands began batting the harmauth’s nose and horns, and both Kari and Durisha laughed.

  “Do you have any children of your own?” the demonhunter asked.

  “Nay; Her Majesty has not seen fit to breed me yet,” Durisha answered, and Kari found the wording peculiar. “My sister has had two, both males. Females are very rare among our kind, which is why we are considered so valuable. My time is coming, I am certain. But that is up to Her Majesty, not me.”

  That struck Kari as somewhat unfair, but if Durisha wasn’t inclined to say so, Kari wasn’t going to press the issue. “So your nephews can’t live in the palace, though, right?”

  “No, they live with their grandmother and her clan, to the northeast,” Durisha said. She got to her feet quickly and handed Uldriana back to Kari.

  At first, Kari thought perhaps she was upset, but the harmauth sniffed the air a few times and glanced to the erestram, who nodded. “What’s going on?” Kari asked. Was it possible they might be ambushed within King Koursturaux’ own realm?

  “Change in the air; storm is coming,” Durisha answered, which eased Kari’s tension. “They come up quickly here because of the way the mountains funnel the wind. Please get back in the coach with your little one, and let us get back underway.”

  Kari didn’t bother to argue, as clear as the skies seemed to be. She got situated with her daughter in her lap, and the lurch of Durisha climbing up onto the driver’s bench preceded the coach beginning a careful descent down the interior end of the pass. It wasn’t long before Kari could feel the change in the air, and what light made it into the pass started to fade as dark clouds approached the edge of the range to the north. A distant peal of thunder rumbled through the pass, echoing off of the mountains and clinging to life as long as it could before fading. Just as soon as it did, though, another followed in its wake.

  Fortunately, DarkWind was known for its impressive thunderstorms in the spring and late summer, and Uldriana was accustomed to the deep rumbling. Kari’s erestram escort approached the coach while it was moving slowly, and secured the shutters of the windows from the outside, leaving only the one beside Kari open. He indicated he would close it when the rains came, and Kari was glad for the opportunity to watch what she could of nature’s performance.

  The rains came shortly after, and the erestram still showed no hint that his pace would suffer because of it. The coach rolled on through the night, though Kari found sleeping a little difficult. The storm swirled with the curve of the mountain range, just as Durisha had said it would, so the thunder was a long time in dispersing as it pounded against the cooler air of the range. When Kari finally woke, the storm had passed, and the strong, bright sun of Mas’tolinor streamed in through the opened windows of the coach.

  She took in the sights and scents of Mas’tolinor, finding it not unlike home. The farms and orchards in particular reminded her of the trip to see Captain Machall the year before, and she wondered how her friend was doing. Same as ever, I imagine, she thought. He seemed to know what he wanted from life and to work for it, and he had profitable land and a bright and loving family. Kari couldn’t help but smile as she considered she had the same now, and even the darker aspects of her life couldn’t dim the light that shone from being grounded in faith and family. They were two things she’d never really had in her prior life, and she wondered how she had lived without them.

  Well, I guess I didn’t, she mused to herself with a chuckle.

  They reached the city of Maurinoth in the middle of the afternoon, and Kari watched from the windows with interest. There was a ball field where a crowd was beginning to gather, and though the city wasn’t that large, the number of spectators was already considerable. Kari turned back to the rest of the city, well laid-out, neat, and orderly. It fronted the southern base of the bluff upon which the palace sat, with only a winding road leading up to the castle. The city had the sounds and smells associated with one to some extent, but it was clean, and there was a lack of stenches or filth.

  The coach stopped in front of an inn, one of the few mult
iple-story buildings in the city from what Kari could see. Durisha came and opened the door, helping Kari down from the high chassis of the coach. The harmauth took Kari’s bag as she had when they’d first met, and she gestured toward the front door of the inn while she handed the bag to the elestram driver.

  “You had best go and check in, it looks like the football squad arrived here a bit ahead of schedule. Farris will take you in and assist you,” she said, indicating the elestram.

  Kari followed the jackal-man inside, and found the inn almost completely deserted, its usual occupants likely gathering at the field. Kari was surprised to find a syrinthian tending to the bar and the inn, a typically lithe fellow who introduced himself as Salitulo. He arranged for a room for “the king’s royal guest,” and showed Kari up to her dormitory so she could stow her things. It had been a long ride, but Uldriana was awake and alert, and Kari didn’t want to spend any more time in a chair staring at four walls.

  “Can I go and watch the game?” she asked Farris when she descended the stairs.

  “If you wish,” he answered in the flowing accent that seemed common to those who spoke beshathan by nature. “The Rulaj Reds are visiting from Tess’Vorg, so there is sure to be a tightly-contested match. The youngsters are likely already playing ahead of the adults, if you do not wish to be cooped up again immediately.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Kari returned. “Who is representing the city?”

  “Morinauth’s team are called the…Crimson Starlets, named for a particular flower Her Majesty keeps in the royal gardens,” he said, pausing to translate the team’s name. “Our men are very skilled, but the Rulaj Reds are one of the finest teams among the realms. Do you gamble, lady guest?”