“Yes.”
Galen allowed his attention wander, letting the Gift flow to get a better feeling for Blake. The Fae were not the happy, winged fairies that children's stories made them out to be. They walked the night, dark creatures, often chaotically evil, and at one time demanded tribute to keep them from wreaking havoc. The tribute varied from the traditional mead, bread and meat to human blood. There was one particular story of the Fae Galen found during his research for his doctorate. It was in an herbal from the late Ninth Century and told of one of the Fae who offered information on healing plants—in exchange for a child delivered to him on the Vernal full moon. The fact that one of the Fae was looking for them was extremely worrying. Knowing the creature's motives might or might not calm that worry.
He relaxed, focusing the Gift as unobtrusively as possible so Blake wouldn't sense what he was doing. There was a wall around the priest, Galen gently pushed through it. Not enough to alert the other, but enough to get an idea of what they were dealing with. At the back of his mind he could hear the pounding of hooves, the soft chiming of bells gradually growing louder. For the first time, he let it move a little more into his consciousness, hoping that if Blake did sense what he was doing, the call of the Hunt might cover his tracks in time to get out before something bad happened. The cold mists were eddying through his head when he made contact. He got a fleeting impression from Blake before the Hunt was on him, the call louder than Rob's voice, louder than the soft hum of their bond. The pounding of horses hooves filled his mind, a raven's voice floated above him as the icy mists moved through his body.
“Galen!” Rob's hand was on his arm, Galen blinked, the restaurant came back into focus. “Galen?”
“Here.”
“I think your interest in the Hunt is not just intellectual,” Blake said, smiling at Galen.
“What do you mean?” Rob snapped.
“You've heard the call.” There was a pleased glint in Blake's eyes that bothered Galen. “You have, haven't you?” Blake asked. “I can see it in you now. I have heard the rumors about you. So they found you, did they?”
“What did you hear?” Galen asked, taking a deep breath. “I'm okay,” he said to Rob, then turned back to Blake.
“I suspect you have a good idea of that, no need to repeat it.”
“What do you know about the Hunt?” Rob demanded, a growl in his voice.
“Me? I'm just a scholar.”
“Do you think I'm blind?” Rob's growl deepened. “I always suspected Petronius knew more than he was saying, and he—well you—do, don't you?”
“Rob?” Galen said softly, his brother was angry, the buzz of the emotion battering against him.
“I don't know what you mean,” Blake said innocently.
“I'm tired of dancing. Once I realized you were Fae, I recognized you from the portrait,” Rob said, scowling.
“What are you talking about?” Galen asked him.
“He's Petronius.”
“What?”
“He's Petronius, Galen.”
“He's...?” Galen paused, sorting through the impressions he had gotten before the Hunt blocked out all else. There was a strong feeling of immense age, a depth of experience that most things—people and otherwise—didn't have. “Of course. That's kind of cheating, writing your own biography,” Galen added.
“It's not cheating,” Blake chided. “Scholars don't cheat.”
“Scholars cheat all the time,” Galen said, sitting up, the last of the mists drifting to the back of his mind.
“You're right, it's what we do best.”
“Galen, this is off point,” Rob said, the anger crackling off him like an out of control blaze. “What do you know about the Hunt?”
“It's a punishment for Custodes Noctis who deny their proper place for some reason. From what I've heard, you fit right in with that,” Blake said, glancing at Galen with a smug smile.
A soft growl from Rob was the only warning Galen had before his brother moved. One second he was sitting beside Galen, the next standing beside Blake. The priest had an odd look on his face. Galen smiled. People had made that mistake about Rob before, assuming the enthusiastic, over-eager scholar was not a man of action. It was a serious miscalculation, and once Rob was moving, it could take a lot of effort—or occasionally bloodshed—to stop him.
“If you get blood on the floor, they'll never let us come back,” Galen said mildly.
“I'll make it up to them,” Rob said softly. “Shall we discuss the Hunt?”
“Will you take the dagger out of my back?” Blake asked.
“Not for a minute or two. I told you I was tired of dancing.”
“You're like him in more than looks.” Blake's chuckle was warm and friendly. “And that makes all the difference. Sit down, Robert, and I will tell you what I know.”
“And why you're looking for us,” Galen added.
“The two go hand in hand.” Blake watched warily as Rob settled back in the chair next to Galen. He paused as the waitress came over and took their order. “Pretty girl,” he said as she left. Rob's answer was wordless, but Blake understood and grinned. “So, the Hunt.”
“Yes,” Rob affirmed.
“As it exists now, it is punishment for Keepers—and some vassals—who deny their place, trapped in the Between World, lost to themselves and their family.”
“Yes.” Rob's voice was approaching a growl again. Galen put a hand on his brother's shoulder to keep him in the chair. “And?”
“That's not why it was founded,” Blake said simply. “The Hunt fell into disfavor several centuries after it was begun.”
“The Saga of the Winter King mentions the fall as an addendum added long after the original work. I have always wondered though, the concept of the Winter King is a little at odds with the idea of membership as punishment,” Rob said thoughtfully.
“It is, isn't it?” Amusement rippled through Blake's voice. “It was an honor to serve, to be chosen as the Keepers to lead the Hunt.”
“Keepers?” Galen held up a hand. “Plural?”
“Yes, both of them, and some of their followers as well. But the Custodes Noctis served as the king and his champion for a set period. Then, they could return later, if they chose to.”
“Return? What do you mean? I thought the king loses himself,” Galen said.
“He does now, but it wasn't punishment then, remember? The Keepers retained their names, identity, themselves, it was one of the only ways to control the Hunt. Even then it was hard to keep the riders under control. Many of them had chosen to remain with the Hunt after their king's term—or their own, depending on who they were. Riding with the Hunt for a long time changed them, there was always an element of darkness in the Hunt. It's continually gotten worse since the founding, and now as you know, it is mostly a force of darkness. The king is lost.” There was a deep sadness in Blake's voice.
“That still doesn't tell us why it was founded,” Galen said.
“It doesn't, does it?” Blake took a sip of his beer and smiled as the waitress put their food on the table. He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully.
“Rob, deep breath.” Galen reacted to the agitation building in his brother. “Father Blake?”
“Stephen,” he corrected.
“Blake,” Galen said again. He had no intention of letting Blake feel comfortable with them. “Why was it founded? Do you know?” Galen asked, trying to keep an eye on his brother. Rob's patience was worn thin, and something bad would probably happen soon.
“More than a thousand years ago, things started happening,” Blake began.
“Things?” Rob said.
“Yes, things. All kinds of things.”
“Yes?”
“It started during a battle. After it was over, men were seen walking amongst the corpses, feeding on the dead and wounded, then reports of other creatures appearing began.”
“'First they come as men,'” Rob quoted.
“Yes!” Blake beame
d at him like a teacher at a prized student. “Then they came.”
“Who?”
“The feorhbealu,” Blake said quietly.
“The feorhbealu?” Rob frowned. “Deadly evil? Violent death?” he translated.
“Both, worse than both. They ravaged the countryside, killing everything. The other creatures ran with them, devouring life, light and everything else in their path. Many of the non-humans fell victim as well. The Custodes Noctis were summoned by the king, not just one pair of Custodes Noctis, but all of them that would come, and a specific request for the Emrys Keepers. Their unique talents were needed. They rode at the front of the line, meeting the feorhbealu first. After the first few creatures fell, they realized that they didn't just exist in this plane, and to stop the feorhbealu you had to kill them in the Between World. The losses were terrible, both Emrys Keepers were wounded, many other Custodes Noctis and their vassals had died, so they left the field.
“As they recovered, they realized that they would have to find a way to battle the creatures in the Between World. The Emrys Keepers called together a council of human and non-human advisers to figure out a way to defeat the feorhbealu. One of the council remembered the old legends of the Winter King, the one who protected the people from winter solstice to winter solstice, who had once stopped dark forces that seemed like they might have been the feorhbealu. The council believed if they could once again raise the king, and create an army for him to lead, they could stop the feorhbealu because the king existed in both this world and the Between World. If they could do that they had a chance of defeating the feorhbealu.
“The power needed to raise the king and create the Hunt was enormous. They needed all the help the could get, and looked for it among the dark forces as well. To move back and forth from this world to the Between World is draining, to ride in the Between World is to tempt the forces of darkness to lure you to them. It is a place of shifting mists and dark creatures. In order to complete the magic, they needed the help of those who the council wouldn't usually speak to—let alone make an alliance with. Because the threat affected the Fae and others, they answered the call and came to help create the magic that would let the Hunt ride.
“The Emrys Keepers volunteered to lead the Hunt. The healer offered himself as king, knowing that it could lead to his death, and his brother's. After three days of ritual to prepare themselves, they stepped into that plane. They survived the journey and the elder became king and his brother champion. Some of their vassals and several other Custodes Noctis, joined as members of the Hunt. They served for a year then returned to this existence. Most of the Hunt returned as well, others chose to stay in the Between World.
“The Hunt rode for two centuries before the feorhbealu were believed to be defeated. There were rumors of...” Blake stopped and shook his head. “The Emrys Keepers had served with the Hunt and decided to return for the traditional ride as Solstice. Something went wrong, they didn't return on Twelfth Night, and the Hunt disappeared. It resurfaced fifty years later when the elder of the Gregorius Keepers denied his place and refused to do the Ritual of Swords. Before his father and uncle could intercede, the Hunt had called him. He willingly submitted to the ritual to make him king, without the knowledge of the rest of his family. His brother disappeared, body and soul.”
“Tradition says he killed himself rather than ride with the Hunt,” Rob said quietly.
“Of course it does,” Blake said sarcastically. “The legend grew, the Hunt reappearing all over Europe. Not many Custodes Noctis deny their place, but some do, and they were always called. The Hunt would find them, and once the call is heard, there is no way out. Younger brother, older, it doesn't matter, they become king and they are lost.”
“They demand blood sacrifice, don't they?” Rob asked.
“Yes. The original ritual required blood for all the members, now it is only for the king.”
“Who leads the Hunt now? There hasn't been a Keeper who denied his place for more than a hundred years,” Galen said.
“Except for you,” Blake said. Rob make a soft sound and Blake cleared his throat.
“The cycle altered in the Eighteenth Century,” Rob picked up the story. “The Custodes Noctis had tolerated the Hunt, because it was now seen as punishment for those who were unwilling to fulfill their place. But the Hunt overstepped its limits and its human followers—worshipers, really—took thirteen sacrifices, people unwilling to give their life. They couldn't stop them, but they managed to force them into a cycle that they could control. The Hunt would only ride in the space where they could touch this world every hundred years. They could still be summoned to punish a Keeper, but the Hunt itself was limited to a very short amount of time.”
“You know your Sagas,” Blake said, smiling at Rob.
“Of course I do,” Rob snapped.
“Seven years ago, the Hunt found me, but Dad and Uncle Bobby stopped them. If they can only ride every hundred years, why am I hearing the call?”
“Things have changed,” Blake said, the pleased glint back in his eyes. “It's why I was coming to look for you. I believe the feorhbealu are coming again.”
“What?” Galen glanced at his brother, if he didn't know better, he'd say Rob already knew.
“The signs are all there. The feorhbealu come every thousand years. I've heard rumors of things happening again. I still have contacts in the world, and they have reported very disturbing things. I've felt the Veil shifting, something must be done.”
“Why come to us?”
“You're the Emrys Keepers, who else would I go to?”
“For what?” Suspicion bubbled through Galen's veins.
“To lead the Hunt against the feorhbealu of course. Since you've already heard the call, it will be much easier to join. And I've heard that you might be... Never mind. You need to serve.”
“No,” Galen whispered, shaking his head.
“Galen?” Rob said softly.
“I...” Galen took a deep breath.
“There isn't any choice, and you know it. You can feel the pulse of darkness beneath your feet, Galen, so you have to know this is coming,” the priest said. “The feorhbealu will run wild. The modern world is less able to deal with this kind of thing. By the time anyone was even willing to acknowledge there was a real threat it would be too late. The Hunt is the only way to stop it.”
“They won't help,” Rob said.
“You have to make them help, lead them, make them become what they once were.”
“How can I?” Galen asked, trying to stop the growing desperation pounding in his chest. “You even said the king is lost.”
“Yes, he is, but you have to reclaim it, remain who you are, with your memories, yourself intact, and still become the king. As it once was, as it will be.”
“No.”
“How?” Rob asked in the same instant.
“They will find you one way or another,” Blake addressed Galen, then turned to Rob. “I might be able to help.” A brief, sly smile crossed the man's face, to be replaced an instant later with a look of sincere concern.
Galen shifted in his chair. The echoes of the headache from Rob had increased, slamming into his head in time with his pulse, the knot in his back tying itself into a ball of pain. He stood abruptly, surprising himself as well as his brother and Blake. “I'll meet you back at the apartment.”
The Hunt: A Custodes Noctis Book Page 9