Hunted

by Matt Mememaro

  “No, this act of violence was carried out, purely in cold blood. Toldar had no reason to attack the Councilor in his penthouse. We brought the tower down shortly after, and thus nothing could be recovered. Before we began firing with cannons a large explosion erupted from Renor’s private chambers. Toldar could be the only one responsible,” Laksha said.

  “In fact I was present in the tower, however several floors below when Renor was attacked. My father, Barros Toldar was the one that killed the Councilor,” Abner said. “I merely witnessed the event as did Lois Behan.”

  “Lois Behan has already been cleared by this court,” Gareth said.

  “And you have no evidence against me that can be upheld in a court of reasonable law,” Abner said. “Your father willingly engaged me in open combat in a trial of arms. What do you have Gareth? You’re reaching at ghosts here!”

  The Councilor’s face lit up in a rage, furious Abner hadn’t been backed into a corner. “I am the Councilor, and my word is law within Alilletia! I hereby sentence you to death. How would you like to wish to receive your final punishment?”

  “I demand a trial by combat,” Abner said.

  A rumble washed over the crowd. By now they were all familiar with the story of Abner Toldar and the impeccable skills he possessed with any kind of weapon. Whoever he faced, it would not be a fair fight.

  “Abner Toldar. You are without a doubt one of Taagras’ finest weapons masters. You received your Aksah at the age of fifteen and did you really expect me to grant your final wish? Failing that, you are also a half-Vampire, and thus who’s to say in a battle for your life, you would not resort to your more instinctive ways. Your desire to prove yourself in a trial by combat is denied. Instead I sentence you to live out the rest of your days in the Lock!” Gareth said. “Guards, take him below! The transport will leave at dawn!”

  The crowd exploded as if a Fyndfire bomb had gone off inside it. They cheered as Abner was directed away with his hands by his side. His head was hung low as they marched down the aisle. Rumors of the Lock had only spread over the years since its construction at the order of Councilor Graytooth. The massive, isolated prison island in the south sea received little food and what guards ran it were brutal, hired by the Alilletians to torture and often kill inmates.

  Redmane turned to Gareth with a surprised look on his face. “We couldn’t prove shit. Why did you have him sentenced to the Lock? If the other countries find out there will be outrage.”

  “Listen to that crowd, Regent,” Gareth said. “They’re roaring for his slow death inside the Lock. You’ve been inside it, you know what it’s like. Abner’s a half-Vampire, but I doubt he’ll be able to survive it all the same. We’ll send a man or two of our own to spread word, create false rumors of what he’s done. The prisoners can take care of the rest.”

  Frostsight nodded his approval. “You are very much like your father. Calculated and decisive. I look forward to working with you more in the future, Councilor.”

  Gareth dipped his head in a showing of respect. “It will be my pleasure, Regent.”

  The sound of dripping water filled Abner’s ears as he was escorted into the underbelly of the Citadel. His guards were silent as the light grew dimmer and the air tighter. At last the three men reached their destination, an almost black room. One man stepped forward to open a gate while around tightened his grip on Abner’s arm.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said.

  “Why not? You won’t be able to escape the Citadel even if you managed to get past us,” the guard said.

  “I would,” Abner said.

  “Get in there!” The guard gave Abner a shove in the back.

  The Hunter stumbled inside the large cell that reached all the way to the ceiling, too high to jump. As he looked around the cell, Abner could see that the bars were doubled, crossing to prevent any real chance of escape; at least for a normal human. He took a seat, waiting patiently for the guards to leave. Instead another set of footsteps echoed down the tunnels, followed by a loud and cheerful whisper.

  “Ever since I found out who my father was, I have waited for this day,” Gareth said. His voice was nothing more than a whisper. “I know you killed him, and I’m frustrated that I’ll never be able to personally return the favor.”

  “Graytooth was no father to you, just as Barros was no father to me, Gareth. I chose my own path, one that involves following the Huntrey and not deserting. You don’t need to follow your father in ruling Alilletia,” Abner said.

  “You would know as well as I do Abner, that as an orphan I wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere for so long. Say what you will, but when we were children that’s all we thought about. Yes Malvrok trained you and kept you as his own, but you were missing what you wanted the most. When we first came here, I met a man that told me who my father was, and he began grooming me to take control,” Gareth said.

  “Ah when you said you were at the whore house,” Abner said. “Should have known that was a lie. What else have you been hiding from me?”

  “Nothing, apart from the fact that I love a woman that you hold so close to your heart,” Gareth said.

  Abner leapt to his feet and wrapped his hand around the first set of bars, ready to break them in half. “Lois? You son of a bitch, Gareth!”

  “Calm yourself. This very cell once held Graytooth and no man can escape from them. But yes, I love Lois, that is why she does not share the same fate you do. Fortunately for you, she is not aware of my desires and remains loyal to you.”

  “I am stronger than Graytooth ever was, and I’ll be dammed if I ever let you take Lois from me!” Abner said.

  Gareth sighed. “This conversation is getting nowhere. You’re furious at me for imprisoning you, and I am furious at you for taking what family I once had away from me. I also serve a higher power that is poised to destroy you. This is but the first step in that plan. You are finished, Toldar.”

  “I will break these bars, then I will break your neck!” Abner said. His eyes flushed red and his fangs began to emerge from his mouth. “I hunger even more for your head on my sword in this state.”

  Gareth took one look at the reddening eyes of the half-Vampire and began to back away slowly. He shook his head, trying to recreate the vision of the man he had for such a brief time called his friend. “It’s a shame things could not be different between us Abner. We could have conquered the known world. But for now, farewell, and best of luck in the Lock. You’ll need it.”

  “I will break it, and I will come for you, Graytooth! Just like your father, you will fall by my hand!”

  Gareth’s deep laugh echoed off the stone walls as he vanished back into the darkness, leaving nothing behind but the sound of his footsteps.

  24

  The Lock

  Abner awoke to the sight of steel bars in front of him, less than an inch from his face, trapped once again. The second thing he noticed was the stench underneath his nose, shit on the floor in front of him, made him recoil. He tried to raise his hand to his nose to block the smell, but his hands were not only tied with rope, but chain as well behind his back.

  Now knowing he was face down with no chance to push himself up, Abner rolled onto his back, his hair now covered in shit as he looked at the ceiling. His cell was small, only just as long as he was and dark. Abner blinked twice, drawing what blood he could from reserves and began to look at the cell in the light of his Vampire sight.

  Slabs of mortar lined the roof, yet not there were more scratches in them than the walls on the side. A single hook hung from the roof, perfect to tie a dangling victim too. He looked down at his body and Abner found he was naked, covered in shit and smeared with dirt. Blood mixed the two shades of brown together.

  “What’ve we got on the cards today?” a voice from outside the cell said.

  “Just got to take the Hunter out into his pasture, far as I’m aware. Here he is.”

  Abner rolled his neck back and looked up at the cell d
oor. Illuminated by the torch they carried, Abner could see two beefy men, dressed in the leather armor of the jailors of the Lock. Their faces were covered by the black leather and he could see the billy clubs hanging on their waists.

  “Doesn’t look like much,” one said. He coughed. “Bah, why do they need two of us?”

  “He’s dangerous, you know they don’t send them to us if they aren’t dangerous. Do you know what detachment he’s meant to go to?”

  “Yup, got him here as a miner. Hardly looks strong enough to use one of the picks. Are you going to go in and get him or should I?”

  “You can go, I want to see what he does.”

  The first jailor fiddled with his keys, testing them all in the door until he found the correct one. The cell opened outward and he stepped inside, bending down to pull the Hunter to his feet. Abner tried to roll out of the way, but his resistance was met with a stiff kick to the jaw that sent his head spinning.

  “Ah fuck why are his eyes red!?”

  “It’s so I can see you,” Abner said.

  “Make it stop, or I’ll beat the shit out of you!”

  “What could you do to me that’s possibly worse than this?” Abner asked.

  The jailor responded by kicking Abner in the head with the point of his boot. His foot came down again, stomping on Abner’s face. He left his nose crack under the relentless assault, fresh blood spilling down his face.

  “Are you finished yet!” the jailor asked.

  Abner’s response was to remain face up, staring at the ceiling. “No. I’d like more.” He allowed a small smile to part his lips.

  The jailor’s rage continued to fall upon him and Abner remained unmoved. The pain was numbing. His rage, on the other hand was building. He felt his conscious begin to slip away. He gave in moments later. His eyes flickered back to their normal color.

  “Finished yet worm?” Abner remained silent. The jailor picked Abner up by his feet, dragging him backwards out of the cell. “Right what do we do with him now?”

  “Put something on him and throw him in with the rest. That was fucking brutal.”

  “I’m going to escape.” Abner’s voice was barely more than a whisper. Fresh blood trickled into his mouth.

  The jailors rounded on him again. “Nobody escapes the Lock. What are you going to do boy, break out of here and cross the island without getting shot? You’re funny.”

  “The Lock will change that soon enough. Stand scrub.” The jailor ripped Abner to his feet, pulling on his restraints. “Farzaan, attach a ball to each of his legs. That ought to slow him down.”

  “Is that really necessary? Like you said, where am I going to go?” Abner asked.

  “Councilor’s orders. Whilst we’re no longer in Alilletian we still follow what he requests. Stand still.”

  Abner obliged as one of the jailors clasped irons around his thighs, both weighed down by a steel ball, dragging along the ground behind the chain. The jailors then started to march Abner deeper into the Lock. The air was filled with Sulphur and shit wafting up from the undoubtedly endless tunnels that ran beneath them.

  They continued to walk down into the prison, a massive cavernous pit opened before them, a network of tunnels leading off to the side to get either prisoners or guards to the lower levels. Other prisoners lined the walls, digging into the dirt with a variety of tools ranging from pickaxes to shovels. Jailors patrolled amongst their prisoners every few meters, their hands rested on their billy clubs, watching for any sign of trouble.

  The prison got cooler the further down they traversed. Finally, the jailors stopped and signaled to one of their peers up ahead, nothing outside his torch’s range was visible.

  “Farzaan, good to see you, mate.”

  “Same to you, Sullivan. We’ve got the Hunter here for you.”

  “Excellent.” Sullivan smiled. He handed forward a pickaxe. “This is for you Hunter, make yourself useful.” He gestured to the dark wall behind him. “Go for your life.”

  Abner took the pickaxe, fighting the urge to turn around and skewer it through the jailors brains, but he welcomed the darkness. He stumbled forward and hit something, or someone with his foot. The resounding ‘fuck off’ told him all he needed to know. He moved down the wall a few steps before taking a step back and swinging.

  The dirt gave way, yielding to the pickaxe, and Abner began to struggle with the uneven weight of the pickaxe, swinging in from the side. With the jailor right behind him, he feigned weakness, staring into the darkness, swinging the pickaxe at the wall in front of him that he could not see without his Vampire sight.

  He moved slightly to his left towards the man that had told him where to go moments before.

  “Hi there, friend. Can you tell me what we’re digging for down here?”

  “Just keep your mouth shut and keep your head down. There’s no way to escape from here. I’ve tried.”

  “Oy, you two over there, cut the chatter! The Doctor wants to see one of you.” A new jailor approached, this one carried a metal chain in his hand.

  “Sullivan, which one’s been here the longest?”

  Sullivan strode over, taking time to run the torch over each of the men under his charge. It stopped over the man next to Abner. He was unshaven, a beard of many years running far down his neck. His hair was a thick, tangled mess, much like his beard, unshorn for years. The light showed dark rings under his eyes, the Lock a place where there was truly no rest for the wicked.

  “No, fuck off, not me! Take someone else!”

  Realization dawned on Abner. Underneath the hair and the bloodied mass that was his face, Abner had heard that voice before. The first fifteen years of his life had been spent under it, the majority listening to it instructing him in the ways of waging war.

  As the man was dragged away, kicking and screaming, his frail state apparent, Abner now remembered everything he had done for him. Malvrok had been in the Lock since his death at the fortress almost a decade ago, and someone needed to free him.

  25

  The Betrayal

  The guards at the wall had let them pass without any queries. Gareth rode side by side with Lois, back to their regular Hunter garb as to not raise suspicions. A message had been sent ahead to inform the Huntrey of Abner’s capture and imprisonment. They rode onto the plateau to find an assembly of Hunters waiting for them.

  “Good to have a welcoming committee,” Lois said.

  “They’re not here for you, they’re here for me,” Gareth said.

  He slid down off his horse, and walked over to where Crix stood, a firm frown on his face, and his hands behind his back. Gareth opened his mouth to speak, but Crix lashed out, striking the younger Hunter square in the nose. He recovered quickly, moving to strike back, but two Hunters stepped forward their crossbows staring him in the face.

  “You shit,” Crix said. “Councilor of Alilletia and Son of Graytooth, my arse. Put him in irons!”

  “I’ve done nothing wrong. I have avenged my father as was my birthright!”

  “Abner is one of our best and as a Hunter you should know he had every reason to murder your father. He was corrupt and under the influence of a Vampire. What of his uncle that Graytooth killed in cold blood?” Gareth’s response was silent. “That’s what I thought, put him in a cell. We’ll begin the trial this afternoon. Lois come here if you’d please.”

  Lois slid off her horse and made her way to Crix. She stayed out of arm’s reach. “I couldn’t stop him. He has total power in Alilletia. He only came back to assert his power here too.”

  Crix frowned again. “I thought so, and this worries me. I don’t want to have to contend with an army on our doorstep.”

  “It took everything I had to convince him otherwise. We could hold them off though. That wouldn’t be a question of our abilities,” Lois said.

  “Hmm, I don’t trust that he came back alone with you, how do I know you weren’t implicated in Abner being arrested?”

  “Because I was also
arrested and held under guard. I was tried before Abner and found not guilty. You can check the court proceedings Crix, all they wanted was the murderer of Councilor Graytooth,” Lois said.

  “Eight years, Alilletia has been in a state of chaos. Now it seems we’ve got someone willing to make it worse. We need you to rest up then you can get a team together to go after your fiancé. Do you know where he’s being held?” Crix asked.

  Lois shook her head. “No idea, the only person outside of Etia that would be able to tell us that has just been taken to a cell.”

  “We’ll get it out of him,” Crix said. “Abner will be returned to us soon.”

  The Board room had filled out, dozens of Hunters wanting to see justice served to someone that had betrayed their order. Crix sat at the center of the Board table, rapping his hand against the edge of the table. The jailors bought Gareth in, his arms outstretched on a bar that bound his hands, his feet also shackled together.

  His face was bruised and bloodied, his armor torn and ripped. Crix had not expected his men to be kind especially after the crimes he’d committed against the Huntrey.

  “Right then to, business,” he said. He stood addressing the gathered Hunters. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the time has come. We’ve been betrayed by this man before you today, Gareth Graytooth. First, he murders several of our brothers and sisters in cold blood, as a direct rush of the Bloodrush, but then he flees to Etia where he imprisons one of our most promising young Hunters, Abner Toldar.”

  Crix’s statements were met with loud boos and hisses from the assembled crowd.

  “Is this really necessary Crix?” Gareth asked. He held his head up weakly. “You had your men beat me, and after the treatment I’ve received the only way to stop all-out war between my country and the Huntrey is to execute me.”

  Crix stepped down from the table and took to the floor. He limped across the marble until he reached Gareth. He knelt down beside him and whispered in his ear. “Everything I do here today is necessary.”