Dangerous Territory

by Lindsay Schopfer

  Destov looked Keltin squarely in the eye. “Yes. Mr. Moore, I need you to be in Krendaria right now, because I may need to ask you to get my family out of Malpin.”

  “Why? Has something happened there?”

  “Not yet, but it may, and soon. Conditions in my home country are swiftly deteriorating. Ever since the Heterack Empowerment, there’s been growing unrest under the increasingly totalitarian regime of the Vaughs. The leaders of Malpin have seen the chaos of revolution on their southern border and do not want to see another Krendaria in their own nation. Political dissenters are being silenced, and state control is creeping into every industry and business practice.”

  “I don’t understand. I thought all of the Loopi were driven out over a year ago. Who is the government worried about?”

  “Not all of the Loopi were able to leave the country, and there are still plenty of humans and even a few Heteracks who opposed the Empowerment in some fashion.”

  Keltin suddenly understood. “People like you.”

  Destov nodded grimly. “Elaine told you?”

  “A little. She’s mentioned how you tried to fight for the rights of your Loopi clients in court, and then tried to get them fair value for their goods when they had to flee the country.”

  “It felt like such a hollow gesture in light of all that they were going through, but even my insignificant acts have drawn the attention of the MLP.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It stands for the Malpin League of Protection, the Vaugh’s personal police force. My wife said in her last letter that they had come by our home in Kerrtow, asking to see me.”

  “Then why are you here? Why didn’t you stay with your family to help them get out of the country?”

  “I needed employment outside of the country to provide them some amount of security. Besides, at the time I left it seemed like it would smooth over the emigration paperwork if I already had employment elsewhere, though that seems to make little difference now.”

  “Why?”

  “There are rumors of the borders being closed. My wife is doing her best to settle our accounts and make preparations for the journey, all while under the scrutiny of the MLP. But if the borders are closed, then she will be trapped, along with Elaine and my two sons.”

  Destov paused to rub his face with his hands. When he met Keltin’s eyes again his gaze was sincere. Desperate.

  “Mr. Moore, I don’t pretend to know you very well or understand your relationship with my daughter, but I trust her judgement, and she believes you to be an honorable man. Please. If she’s right, I ask you to help my family. I have little to pay you with right now, but I would consider it a personal favor, and would never forget it.”

  Keltin spoke without hesitation.

  “I’ll help you. What do you need me to do?”

  Mr. Destov’s shoulders sagged with relief . “Thank you. For now, go to Dhalma Province, as we were discussing before. Meet with Mr. Ross, and help him as much as you can. I’ll send word to my wife to finish her preparations quickly and take the family to the southern border. With luck, the borders will remain open, and you will be able to meet them and escort them to the nearest train station with connections to the Western Line.”

  “And if we’re not lucky?”

  “If the borders close, I will tell them to go as far south as they are able. Then you will need to get away from Mr. Whitt’s holdings, go to the border, sneak across, find my family, and escort them south to Krendaria.”

  “Where will I meet them?”

  “I’m not sure. I have some contacts who may be willing to keep them hidden until you come for them.”

  “But if they’re hidden, how will I find them?”

  Destov spread his hands helplessly. “I honestly don’t know. Hopefully it won’t come to that. I just needed to know that I could count on you to help if things go badly.”

  Keltin nodded. “You can count on me. I’ll leave on the next train going east.”

  Mr. Destov breathed a heavy sigh of relief and reached out to take Keltin’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Moore. I can’t tell you how much it means to hear you say that. I wish there was some way that you didn’t have to make the trip alone. Even if you don’t have to help my family across the border, it will be terribly dangerous for you in Krendaria.”

  “Don’t worry for me. I’m used to this sort of thing. Besides, I know a place where I can get the best gear money can buy.”

  * * *

  “That’s quite a list,” said Jessica, looking over Keltin’s hastily scribbled notes.

  Keltin nodded. “My partners took most of our gear on their own hunt, and I need to leave in a hurry. Whatever you don’t have I can buy in town, but I wanted to come here first.”

  Jessica nodded. “All right, I’ll see how much I can pull together. It will take me a moment, though.”

  “That’s fine. Maybe I’ll go say hello to your father while you do that.”

  Keltin stepped outside and made his way to the forge. He found Abel running a long steel tube through a special turn-gear to add the necessary rifling to the interior that would help the bullets fire straight through the gun. His apprentice Jonah was busy preparing coke for the furnace when he looked up and saw Keltin.

  “Hello, Mr. Moore. Did those traps I made help you at all with the rats?”

  “Yes, thank you Jonah. We hardly see any of them anymore.”

  Abel looked up from his work.

  “Hello, Mr. Moore. Can I help you with something?”

  “No thank you, I just thought I’d come out to visit while Jessica pulls together some things for me.”

  “Have you got a hunt, then?”

  “Of a sort. I’m going back to Krendaria.”

  Abel’s face darkened. He walked around his bench to stand next to Keltin.

  “That’s still a mighty dangerous country to journey through right now. What’s taking you there?”

  “Business. I’ve been hired to deal with the seasonal increase in beast sightings in Dhlama Province.”

  “Are your partners going with you?”

  “They’re already on a hunt. I’ll be going alone this time.”

  Abel seemed to consider that for a moment, his eyes wandering over his worktable as he thought.

  “Hold on a moment,” he said.

  He turned and went to a nearby rack of shelves covered with a variety of projects in steel and iron, all in various stages of completion. He returned with the largest revolver Keltin had ever seen.

  “If you’re going to go beast hunting alone, you should carry a gun like this.”

  Keltin held up a hand in protest.

  “Thank you, but I already have a sidearm. My grandfather left me his Grantville service pistol from the Three Forest War.”

  Abel nodded. “Grantvilles are reliable, I won’t deny that. But there’s no pistol made by them that could handle the same specialized ammunition that your rifle takes. But this,” he hefted the revolver in his hands, “this will take Reltac Spinners, Haurizer Smashers, Capshire Shatter-Rounds... whatever you like.”

  Abel held out the gun and Keltin took it, feeling the sturdy weight of a serious firearm. The revolving chamber had space for five shots, just like his hunting rifle. He turned it over in his hands to examine the bindings.

  “Is it an original?” he asked.

  “Modified. I wanted to experiment with high caliber side-arms. I started with a Brunson carbine, shortened the barrel and put a pistol grip on it. I added a small shield for powder blowback, and shaved off as much steel as I could to reduce the weight while keeping it fully functional.”

  “It’s still heavy,” said Keltin. “I doubt that an average buyer would be interested in it.”

  “It isn’t intended for an average buyer.” Abel gave Keltin a sideways look. “It’s intended for a beast hunter.”

  Keltin’s eyebrows went up.

  “Is that a fact?”

  Abel nodded. “Mr. Moore, I
was serious when I told you that I want to be able to provide you with all of your hunting needs. Your Uncle Byron was a local legend among private gunsmiths, and I’d be honored to carry on his tradition. I’ve been training Jonah to build with a hunter in mind, and Jessica is picking it up as well. As long as The Beast Hunter is in business, I want people to know that the Claxon family are the ones providing his weapons and gear.”

  Keltin thought for a moment.

  “I’d have to try it out first.”

  Abel turned to Jonah. “Go in the shop and get Mr. Moore some specialty shot. Shatter Rounds, Spinners, whatever we have.”

  “We have an order of Alpenion rounds filled with Belferin acid,” said the apprentice. “Should I bring those as well?”

  “Those are mine,” said Keltin. “I ordered them last spring before I left for Drutchland. They’ll fly the same as the other specialty shot, so let’s not waste them. They aren’t cheap.” He turned back to Abel, hefting the weighty firearm again. “Well, let’s go try out this... what would you call it? It’s not a carbine anymore, but it’s almost too big to be a revolver either.”

  The gunsmith shrugged and gave a little grin. “Maybe a hand cannon. Do you think that would attract beast hunters?”

  Keltin gave him the ghost of a smile. “If this thing has the kind of power that I expect it does, you could call it whatever you want and it would attract beast hunters.”

  * * *

  Keltin stood on the train platform waiting for the call to board. He shifted the unfamiliar weight at his hip where the hand cannon sat in its large holster. He thought of the note he’d left at the front desk for Jaylocke and Bor’ve’tai and almost wished that there was more that he had to do before leaving, just to give them a chance to come back in time to come with him. While he’d hunted alone for years before going to Krendaria the first time, in the last year he’d come to rely on Bor’ve’tai’s stoic, reassuring presence and Jaylocke’s sunny disposition. Going to Krendaria without them almost felt like a betrayal.

  Pushing the thought aside, he focused on watching the steaming, sighing engine as it sat like a great steel beast lying in anxious anticipation. He was just about to check his pocket watch for the time when he heard someone calling his name.

  “Good evening, Mr. Moore! Are you taking the evening train as well?”

  Keltin turned and was surprised to find Marius Harper, the gangly, tall reporter who had interviewed him for the Collinsworth Gazette.

  “Good evening, Mr. Harper,” said Keltin. “Yes, I’m going east. And you?”

  Harper nodded. “All the way to Carvalen. Our man in the Krendarian capital had to come home, and I’m going out to replace him.”

  “Isn’t that a dangerous assignment?”

  “Could be. But I’ve dealt with dangerous assignments before. What about you? Are you getting off before the border?”

  Keltin shook his head. “I’m headed for Carvalen as well.”

  “Really?” Harper perked up like a hound that had found a scent. “What’s taking you out there? Business?”

  “That’s right. I’ve been hired to help with some beast problems in Dhalma Province.”

  Harper nodded, his mind clearly moving swiftly as he processed this news. “That’s very interesting. Returning to the place where you almost died, ready to face creatures of nightmare again to defend the innocent.”

  Keltin gave a tight smile that he hoped hid his embarrassment. “Well, someone has to protect the workers,” he said lamely.

  Looking past the reporter, Keltin spied Mr. Destov a short distance down the platform making his way towards him. Harper continued, not noticing the man approaching them.

  “Absolutely. Well, this train ride has become much more interesting. I hope you don’t mind a traveling companion? Perhaps I could write a little something about your return trip to Krendaria.”

  Keltin felt an immediate unease. While he was certain Harper had no malicious intent, the idea of someone questioning him about his trip made him nervous, particularly when he considered what he may have to do if the border with Malpin closed. Destov had come to a stop at a polite distance from them, and Keltin forced himself to be pleasant and relaxed.

  “I’m open to talking, though I’m not sure if there’s a story in anything I’d have to say.”

  “You let me be the judge of that. If nothing else, we can while away the hours by swapping stories. I may not be a beast hunter, but I have been in some tight spots as a war correspondent down south. I’ll see you on the train.”

  Harper turned and climbed up into the car. Destov approached Keltin once the newspaperman was gone.

  “Is that a friend of yours?” he asked.

  “More of an acquaintance. He writes for the Collinsworth Gazette and did a piece on me earlier this month.”

  If Destov was concerned about Harper’s presence on the train he didn’t show it. Instead, he leaned forward and placed a hand on Keltin’s arm, holding out an envelope with the other.

  “I just wanted to come here to wish you luck, and to give you this letter of introduction. Once you get to Carvalen, take this to the address on the envelope and someone there should see to your transportation to one of Mr. Whitt’s farms.”

  Keltin took the letter and placed it in a coat pocket. Destov watched him with a piercing, somber expression.

  “Thank you again for what you are willing to do. God willing, you won’t have to do anything dangerous.” He caught himself and smiled. “Well, no more dangerous than what you would do normally.”

  Keltin gave him a crooked smile.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Destov. If the worst comes, I’ll see your family safely to you.”

  “I believe you. God be with you, Keltin.”

  “God be with all of us,” said Keltin before turning and climbing aboard the train.

  Chapter 4 – Old Haunts

  The first time Keltin had entered the capital city of Krendaria, it had been on foot, forced to walk the last dozen miles because of pre-revolutionaries bombing the tracks. Now, Keltin watched Carvalen through the train window as they slowly made their way to the station. Framed by the Sky Top Mountains covered in their permanent blanket of snow, Carvalen seemed like a city out of time. The capital of Krendaria was old, older even than the nation itself, filled with the history and architecture of centuries. As the first buildings began to slide by his window, Keltin frowned. The scars of the great fires of the year previous were everywhere. Entire blocks stood empty, and even now there were still blackened piles of rubble on street corners and piled up in alleys. Nearly every stone surface bore the plaque-like mark of smoke damage. Keltin mused darkly about how the violent acts of a few days could destroy centuries of art and culture.

  “It seems that repairing the city is a low priority of the current administration,” Keltin observed.

  Harper nodded as he sat across from him staring out the window.

  “Were you here for the fires after Parliament fell?” he asked.

  “No. I was in the northern country when the revolution hit. I haven’t seen the capital since last fall.”

  Harper craned his long neck to study the damage as they passed the burned out shells of warehouses bordering the train yards.

  “When I got this assignment, I reread the piece the Gazette did about the fires. It said that the flames climbed over a hundred feet into the air. Nobleman and revolutionary alike were killed in mid-step on the streets by the heat and smoke.”

  “I saw a great fire in Lost Trap while I was there. Most of the buildings were wooden though, and it wasn’t nearly as large as Carvalen.”

  “Was the entire town lost?”

  “No. We were blessed to have Loopi Skytalkers with us. They called down a heavy snow that kept the flames from spreading.”

  “And was your business partner, Mr. Bor’ve’tai, one of them?”

  “He was.”

  Harper’s eyes were distant as he continued to watch the city out thei
r window. “I’ve never seen a Sky Talker use his powers before. It must have been incredible to be there when it happened. It’s no wonder that some people are so afraid of the Loopi and the power they can control.”

  Keltin didn’t reply.

  Soon the train came to a stop and Keltin was stepping out into Krendaria’s capital city. The air was stale, filled with the choke of coalsmoke and the grease of the train yards. There were few other people on the platform, and Keltin turned slowly to examine his surrounding as he considered his next move.

  “Do you have someone meeting you at the station?” asked Harper as if reading Keltin’s thoughts.

  “No, I’d only gotten the job offer the day I left, so I doubt word of my coming has gotten here any faster than I have. But I was given a letter of introduction from a representative of my employer. I just need to find the address on the envelope.”

  “May I see it?” Harper frowned at Destov’s neat handwriting and shook his head. “It isn’t familiar to me, but I don’t know Carvalen very well yet. If you’d like, you can come along with me to my local contact. It shouldn’t be hard to get help finding your address there.”

  Keltin was about to politely decline out of a habit of self-confident independence, but hesitated. What would it hurt to get a little help with directions? Besides, he was eager to get out of the fire-scarred city as soon as possible. He gave Harper a grateful smile.

  “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

  Harper grinned. “Well, it’s not all altruism on my part. This is a dangerous city, and I wouldn’t mind traveling with someone equipped as you are for a little longer.”

  “Fair enough, though that reminds me of something.”

  Keltin reached into one of his pockets and withdrew a small paper box. Sliding it open, he removed ten rounds and proceeded to load them into his rifle and the hand cannon. Harper watched him with interest.

  “May I ask what you’re doing?”

  Keltin held up the box for the newspaperman to see.

  “Candleshot. Minimum powder charge and a wax payload. I use them for target practice, but they should also work as a nonlethal ammunition in case we run into trouble.”