“Weren’t the king’s guards academy-trained, sir?” asked Poz, son of Weld.
“Of course,” Faldon said “I knew those men. Sanger and Lupold. They were ex-students of mine and very skilled. To be selected as the king’s personal guard, you have to be. Those assassins must have been good.”
“How were they killed?” Vannya asked.
“The report is that they all had their throats slit, except for the king who was killed with a knife wound to the heart,” Faldon responded.
“Throats slit? Academy-trained guards would not have been killed so easily,” Jhonate said. “They would have fought to the death to protect the king.”
“True. There is a lot wrong with this,” Locksher observed. “Were there any other wounds on the bodies?”
“I really don’t know. Harold only had so many details he could give us,” Faldon said. “Perhaps after you leave us here, you could go help them with the investigation.”
“There has to be something that is being covered up by the nobility,” Vannya remarked.
“Yes. Most likely,” Locksher said. “The more I hear about this, the less I think they would want my help. They know more about what happened than they are telling the populace. They have to . . .” The wizard shook his head as if clearing his mind and glanced up to see everyone’s eyes on him. He looked apologetically to Faldon. “Forgive me for taking over your meeting. I know that you have more to discuss with your students. Vannya and I can make our plans afterwards. Please go on.”
“Right.” Faldon had been so interested in what Locksher was going to say that he had almost forgotten what the purpose of the meeting was. He cleared his throat. “Unfortunately, the result of these events is that the plans for our mission tomorrow have been altered. Proud Harold announced to the council that Elise Muldroomon was coronated Queen of Dremaldria yesterday.”
“That quickly, sir?” Qenzic asked. Any coronation without weeks of pomp and pageantry was unheard of. Such events were the lifeblood of the nobility.
“Yes, and Ewzad Vrill was given the status of Lord Protector to the Queen. Her first official act was to recall all Dremaldrian troops to Dremald.”
“All troops, sir?” Jobar said.
“What about the border?” Poz put in.
“All troops, Jobar. Even Proud Harold is being recalled to the capitol. The Queen is convinced that these ‘foreigners’ may attack again and in force next time. She is fortifying the city,” Faldon said. “We have filed an official complaint for Harold to take back to Dremald with him, but to answer your question, Poz, the academy will be patrolling the border on our own until someone can talk some sense into the queen. This morning, the council decided to pull our remaining troops together and take strategic positions. The patrols will warn the villages on the border and advise them to withdraw as well.
“Our forces will be stretched so thin that we are lucky our mission is still on at all. It wasn’t easy to convince the rest of the council to let us continue with our operation. The end result is that we will have no Dremald support troops, so it will just be the five of us. This means that we must do this quietly. We are not to attack any enemy forces, no matter how tempting the target. This is a reconnaissance mission only.”
Locksher was unable to hold his tongue any longer. His eyebrow was raised so far, it had to be giving the man a cramp. “Faldon, pardon me for interrupting, but I must ask, where are you taking this mission where there would be enemy forces? Is there a war going on somewhere?”
Faldon told Locksher about the army of trolls and ogres and goblinoids that had been massing at the border and how it had suddenly disappeared into the mountains. When he told Locksher about the moonrats they found among the army, the wizard’s excitement was palpable.
“Moonrats controlling trolls? Fascinating. How strange to see them so far from the Tinny Woods.”
“The last one we cornered had some kind of mental powers. Some strange voice tried to take our minds over as well,” Poz said.
“The moonrats were behaving strangely when we came through the woods on our way here too,” Vannya remarked. “In the darkest part of the woods, they were so thick in the trees around the road, that it seemed they were testing the barrier.”
“True,” Locksher said. “I cannot say that I have ever seen so many of those creatures gathered around the path before. The road was littered with the corpses of moonrats that had come too close to the barrier and when we neared the end, I had to kill two of the beasts that had entered the path from the far side. It was quite eerie actually.”
“Our mission has several purposes,” Faldon explained. “We received reports in the fall that the town of Jack’s Rest was attacked by the enemy army. This is a town well-known for the number of retired academy warriors living there. We usually have a lot of correspondence coming back and forth between the academy and the town, but we haven’t heard from any of those retirees since the attack. There were rumors that the invading army was using the town as a base. Then two days ago, we received reports of fighting going on in Jack’s Rest again.
“Our first priority is to search for survivors in the town and if there are any, see what we can do to offer assistance. Our secondary mission is to scout out the opposing army, see if they are still infesting the area, and look for clues as to who is controlling this army. This is all the more important with the recent events in Dremald. If this army was to regroup and attack the border again while Dremald has called their troops away, we would be in serious trouble.”
“Faldon,” Locksher said. “We would like to come with you if we may. I can’t help but think that this situation with Dremald is somehow related to this army you are speaking of and if the moonrats are somehow involved, then this could be linked to something much worse.”
“But what about Sir Edge’s book and the Scralag?” Vannya asked.
“That will have to wait until we get back I’m afraid. This is much more important.”
“You mentioned the Scralag.” Jhonate said. “You are here to investigate it?”
“Yes,” Vannya said. “We are here about the book the Scralag left with Sir Edge after placing the frost rune on his chest . . .” Vannya stopped as she noticed Faldon and Jhonate’s open mouthed stares. “What?”
“Vannya, I don’t think that your father has told them about Justan’s naming,” Locksher explained. Now everyone was staring.
“Justan’s naming?” Faldon asked
“Ah yes,” Locksher said, looking uncomfortable. “I apologize. We had assumed that you would have known by now. It probably isn’t my place to be the one telling you this, but you see, when your son went into the ceremony to receive the office of Apprentice in the MageSchool, things didn’t go as expected. The Bowl of Souls took over and named him instead.”
“Twice,” Vannya added, to the further astonishment of all in the room.
“No, once,” Locksher corrected. “He was named once, but as both warrior and wizard. He has uh . . . .” He held up both hands, the left palm and back of his right hand facing out. “Two runes to prove it. His name is now Edge.”
“Justan named?” Jhonate said, twisting the ring on her finger. “That can not be right, can it?”
“But the Bowl of Souls is never wrong, Jhonate. The Bowl of Souls is never wrong!” Faldon said with glee. “My son, Sir Edge. What amazing news!”
“Sir Edge . . .” Qenzic grinned at Jobar. “Does it still sting that he beat you, Jobar three-lobe?”
“Shut up. He didn’t beat me.” Jobar frowned, fingering the ear where Justan had ripped out his earring. The mages had repaired it, but Jobar had never worn an earring in that ear again. “It was a tie.”
“No, my battle with him was a tie,” Qenzic said, laughing. “You were beaten. At least you can now say that the only man to beat you in hand-to-hand was a named warrior.”
“I cannot wait to tell Darlan!” Faldon said.
Locksher looked perturbed that the conversation had
gone off track. “So Faldon my friend, will you have us on this mission of yours?”
“Of course,” Faldon said, still giddy over the news. “At the very least, I’ll have two capable healers at my side. My only concern is whether you two have the capacity to travel quietly.”
“I do,” Locksher replied. “And as far as Vannya, I have some magic that can help her with that.”
“Very well, then.” Faldon shook his hand. “We will leave in the morning. My earlier offer still applies. You are welcome to dinner this evening. In fact, I insist that you stay at my house tonight. Darlan will have so many questions for you.”
“I will requisition another tent and extra supplies for the journey,” Poz said.
“Okay, but wait. Uh . . . we do not wish to share a tent,” Locksher said.
The male students looked at each other, relieved that Vannya was available. Jobar got a stupid grin on his face and Faldon was sure that the student was about to make his own suggestion as to where the mage could sleep.
“Jobar,” Faldon said in warning, just as the student was opening his mouth.
“She will be tenting with me,” Jhonate announced, giving the men a glare that told them in no uncertain terms that she would not tolerate bad behavior. The grin on Jobar’s face faltered.
“Thank you,” Vannya said. She walked over to Jhonate and gave her an appraising look. “So you must be Sir Edge’s mysterious trainer, then? This will be fun, sharing a tent with you. We girls need to stick together, right?”
“As is proper,” Jhonate said, though by the way she eyed the mage, it didn’t look like she had done so out of any sense of camaraderie.
“We have much to talk about. We can both tell stories about our time with Sir Edge. Why, he told me so much about you . . .” Vannya remarked. A frown darkened her features for a moment, but she quickly turned that frown into her prettiest smile. It was evident to Faldon’s experienced eyes that the smile wasn’t completely genuine. “I must say that with all the time we spent together, I am surprised that he never mentioned how beautiful you were.”
Faldon winced at the double meaning in those words and he saw Locksher’s eyes widen as well. Jhonate’s features tightened and it was obvious that she didn’t take Vannya’s remark as a compliment.
“As I should expect from my pupil,” Jhonate said and forced a smile of her own that almost mirrored Vannya’s in its brilliance. “I do find it odd, however, that despite your beauty, in all his letters home, he did not mention you at all.”
Vannya’s face went red as her smile faded.
Faldon saw the death grip Jhonate had on the ring Justan gave her and gulped. He could tell that this was going to be a long journey.
Chapter Nineteen
The hunt took much longer than Deathclaw expected. The trail Talon left behind showed him that after he left her, she had stopped her meandering ways and took a direct route to the west. She still left death in her wake. He found the remains of her victims along the way, but she no longer wasted her time in trivial actions of destruction. She seemed to be moving with a purpose.
Her tracks headed straight in a westerly direction and she was stopping only to eat and sleep. Then whatever focus she had found must have faltered, because she found something to distract her. She had come across an isolated human dwelling inhabited by a male, a female, and three children. From the age of the tracks, Deathclaw could tell that she had stayed in the area around the small house for several days just watching the movements of the humans. Then she began their torment.
She started by killing some of their livestock. From the scent of blood around the home, it looked like she had strewn their remains about to terrify the humans. Then Talon had taken the smallest child, a female, from the home and brought it into the forest with her.
There Deathclaw found the remnants of a battle between Talon and a mysterious beast. The beast must have attacked before Talon had finished her twisted game, because the girl child somehow survived the ordeal and though injured, had escaped and made it back to the family’s home. By the time Deathclaw arrived, the humans had abandoned their dwelling. The small house was empty, their animals and wagon were gone, and their tracks showed that they had fled to the east.
Deathclaw crouched down and looked at an enormous five toed footprint in the wet leaves of the forest floor. Some of the leaves were charred as if whatever left the print was extremely hot. He leaned in closer and inhaled, filling his senses with the creature’s essence. The scent was both foreign and familiar, but he couldn’t grasp why.
The damage to the forest around him told of the battle that had taken place. Trees were broken and blackened, while the ground was scarred with rips in the earth and there were even more footprints like the one he was examining. The blood of both Talon and this creature was scattered around the battle site.
One set of tracks seemed out of place and Deathclaw stopped to examine it carefully. This set of tracks looked and smelled much the same as those of the large beast’s, but were much smaller. They must have belonged to a creature more similar to Talon in size. These tracks were present at the start of the battle, but vanished part way through and did not return. He wondered where the smaller creature had disappeared to.
It was unclear who had won the battle. Neither combatant had died, or at least there was no corpse. The tracks of the two strange beasts had simply disappeared, but Talon had escaped and fled to the west.
A grim toothy smile showed on Deathclaw’s scaly face as he examined the freshest tracks. He was now just three days behind her. Soon he would catch up to her and he could finally end her horrible existence.
Now that he knew that his prey was close, he began taking time to try and figure out how to use the magical sword that the red-haired man had called “Star”. When he had followed the human Hamford out of the desert a year earlier, Deathclaw often watched the man practice his sword work. One time, when Hamford was working on a farm for a few weeks, he had met with another man every evening to swing swords at each other. At first Deathclaw had thought the men were trying to kill one another, but over time he came to understand that they were practicing to improve their skills.
It had been a foreign concept to him. Raptoids did not practice individual fighting skills; they fought from instinct and experience. But now that his self awareness had increased and he was alone without a pack, Deathclaw understood that such training could be useful.
He found that the long claws on his fingers made it hard to grip the hilt like he had seen the humans do. He was forced to adjust his grip, angling his claws up over his palms with most of his gripping strength focused on his thumb and forefinger. The end result was that his grip wasn’t very strong, causing the muscles in his hand and forearms to grow tired and sore quickly. Deathclaw continued on, swinging his sword around whenever he had a spare moment, knowing that his body would adjust if he kept at it.
Talon’s trail became more difficult to follow. She was running as if afraid that this beast was going to follow her. She rarely stopped to kill any more and when she did, she ate it quickly without bothering to torture it.
Deathclaw soon decided that her fears were well founded. He began finding traces of the other beast every once in a while along her trail. This creature could fly. That was the only explanation for the way its scent came and went. It also explained why Talon’s movements had become so bizarre. She was hugging the trees as she traveled, avoiding any open spaces and when sleeping, buried herself in the snow and leaves, keeping herself unnoticeable from the air.
Deathclaw wasn’t sure of the reason for the creature’s dogged pursuit, but the sheer determination such a chase required told him that whatever it was, this creature was intelligent. No normal beast would have kept up a hunt for so long. Its ability to use fire combined with its intelligence convinced him of only one possibility. It was a dragon, and one of a type that was unfamiliar to him.
What was this dragon doing so far from the desert and w
hy was it so determined? Had she killed its children or a mate? The odd familiarity of its smell had Deathclaw wondering if she had angered the creature when he was still with her. He had stayed with her most of the time after they left the wizard’s castle and didn’t recall coming across anything like it. He would have remembered if Talon had killed a dragon youngling.
The set of smaller tracks he had found at the scene of her battle with the beast tickled his mind. Perhaps she had injured a youngling after all. But he hadn’t found a body. Deathclaw couldn’t see why a dragon would pursue Talon if its child had flown away.
Regardless of the creature’s intensions, he hoped that he would find evidence that it had caught and killed her. Then at least his mission would be accomplished. Then he could . . . but Deathclaw did not know what he would do next. The thought and the indecision that came along with it brought up an anxiety that he did not want to face. Whenever the question came up in his mind, he pushed it away. He needed to focus on his current goal. The rest would take care of itself.
Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) Page 20