Hunter's Moon

by D A Godwin

  “Nah, it was some high-born with long hair.”

  “But she was pretty.”

  “You’d think a cow was pretty.”

  “Would not.”

  “No one’s here. I’m gettin’ another drink.”

  “What if it was her?”

  “What if you’re just an idiot?”

  The two men continued dickering as they returned to the inn.

  Tormjere and Kataria exchanged glances.

  “Should we flee?” she whispered.

  “No, we have to get on that boat in the morning. Let’s find somewhere to sleep. If we’re lucky, they’ll drink enough to forget us anyway.”

  Kataria didn’t respond. She stared out the door, her hands knotted into fists. Someone had to be chasing her, as Erbac had warned, but how had they followed her here? They had seen nothing but goblins since leaving Jonrin. How could anyone know she was here? What would happen to her when they were discovered?

  “Shalindra?”

  Her eyes snapped back into focus and locked on his.

  “We’ll be fine.”

  She managed a weak smile, but as she followed him from the barn and down the street, she couldn’t help but keep looking over her shoulder.

  * * *

  She never stopped looking over her shoulder as she ran through the thick, reddish haze that surrounded her. She willed herself to go faster, desperate to break free from the blackened tendrils that sought to suck her in, but failed to take even a single step. She looked down and saw a writhing darkness that sucked at her ankles and clawed at her legs. The harder she struggled, the more it covered her. Eluria’s symbol was hot against her chest and seemed to glow with an inner light. She clutched at it, raising it above her head. Its pale light illuminated nothing but the rising tide of darkness looming like massive jaws that would swallow her whole. She screamed, but no sound escaped her lips. The blackness became mountains that surged above her in every direction even as she sank deeper into the darkness wrapping her feet.

  High above shone a small, dim circle of light. It was impossibly far away but she stretched her hand towards it, somehow knowing that it held the key to her survival.

  With a final surge, the mountainous black jaws snapped shut, plunging her into—

  Kataria bolted upright, covered in a cold sweat. Her eyes darted back and forth, but she saw nothing in the pitch black surrounding her. Disoriented, she flung an arm out, then winced as it scraped against rough wood. Somewhere on the other side of the wall, an animal stirred. Her hand found its way to Eluria’s symbol, finding comfort in its unusual warmth. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and the dim alley came into focus.

  As always, Tormjere was watching her with concern. He looked tired.

  “Do you ever sleep?” she asked wearily.

  “Someone is looking for you. Something worse is haunting your dreams. If we sleep too late, we’ll miss our boat. Seems there are many reasons to stay awake.”

  “I can stand watch as well.”

  “I’ll be fine. Right now, you need sleep more than me.”

  Kataria couldn’t remember what a good night’s sleep even felt like and found herself wishing they had chosen the woods again. “How long until sunrise?”

  “A while.”

  She leaned her head back against the wall and cast a longing gaze at the stars that were barely visible beyond the roofs above. The horses in the stable were probably more comfortable than she was. “I do not think I can sleep.”

  “Close your eyes, and imagine yourself back on the mountain, looking at the moon.”

  She remembered that night, remembered it more clearly than any other. The moon, so close in the sky she might have touched it. The comforting warmth of Eluria’s symbol. The place where she had met her Mistress, truly, for the first time. With that peaceful thought in her mind, she slipped quietly back to sleep.

  Unsafe Passage

  Kataria was jolted awake a short time later, but not by her dreams. It was still dark, with only a hint of light in the east. Tormjere was already on his feet, listening. There was shouting. Somewhere, a bell started ringing.

  “We need to get to the boat.” Tormjere said. “Now.”

  She scrambled to her feet. They ran from the alley and pushed their way through the growing throngs of men and women clogging the street. It was Jonrin all over again. As they neared the river the crowd thinned, and they sprinted towards the boats.

  Quinten caught sight of them and waved urgently.

  “We’re shoving off,” the captain said, before turning and shouting orders at the crewmen.

  “In the dark? What is it?” Kataria asked.

  Quinten threw a nervous look back towards the town. “Goblins on the road from Fallhaven. They could be here at any time.”

  “How many?” Tormjere asked.

  “I’m not waiting to find out. Now push!”

  Kataria scrambled aboard. Tormjere grabbed the blunted prow and joined Quinten and another man as they shoved the heavily-laden vessel into the water, each jumping in once the water was up to their knees.

  A second boat pulled into the water right behind them, its silhouette visible against the flickering torches and lanterns in the town. The men on both boats took out sturdy poles and began shoving against the bottom of the river frantically.

  People ran down the street towards the river and swarmed aboard the boats still ashore. Kataria could only watch in horror as one vessel made it into the water, only to begin sinking from the added weight. Fighting broke out as those who had reached a boat tried to keep others from leaping aboard.

  Unable to bear the sight, Kataria turned away. The boat was a mess, and stank of dead animals, but as she sought a place to sit amongst the bags and baled pelts she gave thanks to Eluria that they were on it. The current caught the boat and swept them eastward.

  Soon, the chaos of the town faded into the night, but the images were burned into her mind. Was there any place of safety left in her world?

  “Walish,” Quinten barked, his voice over loud in the silence. “Get up front with a lantern. Evert, take the left side.”

  The two boatmen scampered into position. Walish was the younger, sullen looking one they had seen yesterday, and he appeared no happier than before. Evert was equally young and kept glancing timidly in her direction when he thought she was not looking.

  Beyond the light cast from the lanterns, it was difficult to tell where they were. The tops of the trees reached over the river, a blacker shade of black stretching like long fingers above them. They were eerily similar to her dreams, and Kataria shivered at the thought.

  “What can I do?” Tormjere asked Quinten.

  “Hold on, and stop distracting me.”

  Walish waved left, and Quinten leaned hard against the rudder. The boat turned, but not quickly enough, and bounced roughly off a rock.

  The pattern repeated countless times. Every time Walish signaled, Quinten would jerk the rudder. Usually this was followed by a curse as the boat scraped against something under the water. They couldn’t see the other boat behind them, but from the amount of yelling and cursing, its men were faring no better.

  Eventually the sun brightened the sky and began to burn away the mist, gradually revealing more of their surroundings. The river remained narrow and Kataria could see the bottom in many places, but it had settled into a smooth flow and the poles were put away. Once the mists were gone and the trees returned to their usual greens, Kataria allowed herself to relax. Her stomach rumbled, but she tried her best to ignore it.

  “How far until the next town?” she asked Quinten, to take her mind off her empty stomach.

  “We’ll be two days after this before reaching Sandenmill,” Quinten answered without looking at her. “If all goes well.”

  “Does it usually?”

  Quinten just shrugged.

  A burst of laughter carried across the water from the second boat, where the old man who had been loading cargo
the day before was now dancing a jig, much to the amusement of the other men on board.

  “Will we stop anywhere?” she asked.

  “It’s too dangerous to run the river in the dark, so we’ll put to shore each night.”

  She wanted to ask another question, but that brief exchange seemed to be the limit of Quinten’s desire for conversation. Evert and Walish were similarly tight lipped, and the rest of the morning passed in near silence. Kataria dozed off several times, lulled to sleep by the gentle movement of the boat and the warmth of the sun.

  It was early afternoon when Quinten signaled the boats to shore.

  “Why are we stopping now?” Tormjere asked.

  “There’s rough sections ahead,” Quinten answered. “Best to take them in the morning.”

  They dragged the boats halfway onto a muddy embankment and tied them off to trees whose bark had been worn smooth by countless ropes before. The four men on the second boat obeyed Quinten’s commands as well, and she gathered that he owned both vessels.

  “Stay alert,” Quinten warned them. “We’re usually left alone here, but the Wiermist Wood has dangers aplenty.”

  The ground around them was worn to the dirt, and the scrub had been cleared away. Mounds of trash and broken things were scattered about, but apart from the logs arranged as benches around the firepit there was no sign of any structures or other improvements.

  Kataria walked in a circle, thankful to be free of the tight confines of the boat. Tormjere did the same but took a wider path into the trees. She knew he was doing more than exercising his legs. He gave her a reassuring nod when he returned.

  “Do you stop here often?” Kataria asked Quinten.

  Quinten just shrugged, apparently still in no mood to talk.

  “Everyone coming east does, m’lady,” said the grizzled, skinny man from the other boat.

  Kataria’s stomach plummeted at the thought that he had discovered her secret, before realizing it was meant as a general honorific.

  “I’m quite happy your holiness’s with us this time,” he continued with a smile, displaying a mouth that was missing most of its teeth.

  “I am relieved that you escaped as well. And please, I am just… Sister Shalindra.”

  “I’m Thom, an’ that’s Gavin. The big fellow there’s Chon.” Both men had ready smiles and dipped their heads politely.

  “If you stay here regularly, why are there no shelters?” she asked.

  “People’ve tried, but somethin’ tears ‘em down quicker’n they put ‘em up. Sometimes it takes those doin’ the building, as well.”

  “The woods are cursed,” Evert said, the first words he’d spoken all day. He glanced at her, as if remembering she was there, then turned red and looked down quickly.

  Chon lit a fire atop the blackened remains of another and hung a kettle of water from the river to boil over it. Potatoes, carrots, and greens went into the kettle, and before long Chon was ladling the soup into bowls.

  Kataria sat beside Tormjere on a log, apart from the others. He handed her a single slice of bread.

  “It isn’t much, I know, but if we ration it now we won’t run out. I didn’t see any game, but I can probably get something tonight.”

  “I would rather you remained here than be eaten by one of the half-men that live in these woods.”

  “You think they’re real?”

  “I do not know, but we went around this forest instead of through it last time, even with two companies of men on horseback.” She stared at the fire. “There will be food enough soon, Eluria willing.”

  Thom nudged Quinten and inclined his head in their direction. The captain looked at them with a frown.

  “No food?”

  Kataria shook her head. “Very little. We left in a bit of a rush, I am afraid.”

  “Well, come on then,” he grumbled. “It’s bad luck to let someone starve.”

  It was not the most sincere invitation she had ever received, but Kataria took the offered food with a smile that seemed to brighten the gloom. “Blessings of Eluria be with you, and thank you.”

  Quinten grunted a response and lapsed back into silence. Thom, who seemed to have difficulty not talking, took the opportunity to launch into a colorful, if somewhat crude, tale of mermaids and the sailor who’d pursued them. It was enough to get even the shy Evert to laugh, and Kataria laughed with them.

  The merriment was a welcome respite from the fear they had been living with. A breeze swept the clouds away. The evening sun was warm, and she was no longer hungry.

  The character of the woods changed as the light faded, dampening both the ground and the group’s spirits. Bedrolls were laid out close to the fire.

  “I’ll take first watch,” Tormjere volunteered.

  “I will take the second,” she added quickly.

  “We’ll all take our turns,” Quinten said, “in pairs. And nobody better be fallin’ asleep this time. Gavin and our master swordsman here first.”

  Kataria thought to gather leaves to make a bed, but there were none close and she had little desire to go looking for them. With a sigh, she wrapped her cloak about her and settled on the bare ground near the fire. She felt as if she had barely fallen asleep when Tormjere gently woke her. She stood stiffly and moved to sit on a fallen tree nearby. On the other side of the camp, Thom gave her a wave and did the same, selecting a comfortable looking stump as his seat.

  The forest was quiet and black. Even the night insects and frogs seemed hushed, their songs barely rising above the steady, soothing murmur of the river. It wasn’t long before her eyelids began to droop.

  A slosh of water, like an oar being paddled, startled her awake. She turned sharply towards the boats, her hand going to the warhammer. Both vessels sat silently on the shore, each a shadow silhouetted against the water. Nothing moved, but she caught a flicker of light in the forest out of the corner of her eye, sending a shiver up her back. She looked to where Thom sat, an axe laid across his lap. He did not appear concerned, so she shouldn’t be either.

  She kept repeating that to herself in an attempt to believe it.

  Staying awake in the middle of the night was so much harder than she had expected. The crescent moon was little more than a dim spot in the clouds, but she found her eye drawn to it. Unconsciously, she placed her hand on her symbol of Eluria. It was cool to the touch.

  Should she pray at night? Tormjere seemed to think it was expected, but it ran counter to what she had been taught. All the ceremonies she had participated in took place in the early morning, just before sunrise, to glorify Eluria’s eternal vigil and thank Her for Her protection from the dark. She had not been doing that either, she realized.

  Yet she remembered that night on the mountain. The beauty of Her light as it rimmed the clouds and sparkled off the lake below. The feel of Her touch, powerful and pure.

  It seemed appropriate to pray now. Not just for herself—that would be selfish—but for everyone there at the camp. They deserved Her protection as much as she did.

  Eluria, watch over us as only you can, and keep us safe from any that would seek to harm us this night.

  There was warmth in her symbol again, though whether from her touch or her prayer, she couldn’t say. She found it reassuring, regardless of the reason.

  A rustle of noise behind her caused her to jump.

  “Pardon the fright, m’lady,” Thom said. “I’s just going to mention our watch is up.”

  “I fear the fault was mine for not being more attentive.”

  Still looking embarrassed, he retreated to wake the next watch.

  Tormjere lay nearby on the bare ground with his eyes closed. Kataria settled beside him and wrapped her cloak tight to ward off the dampness.

  “You did not go to sleep, did you?”

  He opened one eye in answer, then closed it again.

  She shook her head as she tried to make herself comfortable.

  “I’ll sleep a little, if it makes you happy,” he sa
id.

  “It would. Did you see anything?”

  “No, but I can feel things move in the woods around us. It’s not a safe place.”

  “We are safer here than in any town.”

  He appeared unconvinced but did not open his eyes.

  Kataria curled up on the damp ground and fell asleep, wondering why she’d said that.

  A cool mist greeted them the next morning, hanging thick over the water and lending a stillness to the forest. Kataria kept her cloak clutched tight to ward off the chill.

  “Rotten luck this is,” Quinten muttered, surveying the river. “The rapids will be dicey.”

  “Should we wait until it clears?” Tormjere asked.

  Quinten looked over his shoulder at the forest. “I’d rather not. This place’s unnatural.”

  It could have been a trick of the light, but the woods did look less inviting than the night before.

  The boatmen tightened each and every lashing securing their cargo, then the boats were pushed into the river. Kataria resumed her seat amongst the furs, but it was clear this day would be different than the last.

  They heard it before they could see it: the unmistakable roar of fast-moving water. Evert crouched low in the bow of the boat, wedging himself between the cargo and hull.

  “Just hold tight,” Quinten said, “and if you get sick, don’t dirty my furs.”

  Tormjere gave Kataria a lopsided smile, obviously amused at the man’s sense of priority.

  She felt the boat pick up speed as the water took control. They struck something solid beneath the surface, and the boat lurched violently to the side. The bow bounced off another boulder, turning the boat almost sideways before it crashed against another rock and stuck. Quinten threw his weight against the rudder as water surged over the side.

  “Get us off! Get us off!” he screamed.

  Tormjere and Walish rushed to the side of the boat. Each planted a foot on the rock and, together, shoved as hard as they could against the force of the river. With a ponderous shudder, the boat scraped free.

  Kataria clung to the ropes holding the cargo in place, praying that they wouldn’t break and send both it and her over the side.