Chapter 58

She was no longer Basks-in-sunlight. That was a happy memory. Her first memory, and it had shaped her halcyon days. Basks-in-sunlight had hunted birds and tree-cats and other things. She had killed to eat, and for no other reason.

She was a monster because she had been spawned by a Core, but she didn’t truly understand that. She was flesh and blood. She hungered and thirsted. She was not especially violent by nature, not compared to some of the beasts which the Core might have spawned. She had considered eating the small-upright-walking-things, true, but had concluded that it was too wasteful. A rabbit fit her appetite better, most of the time.

But that had been before. When she had been Basks-in-sunlight. That name did not suit her any longer.

Now, she was Hunts-the-hunter.

Now, she was Hates-the-humans.

Now, she was Vengeance.

She didn’t understand the confluence of circumstances which had led to her birth, or the birth of her mate. She didn’t understand the forces that had put the Hunter on the path that would cause him to kill her family. She didn’t care.

All she knew was hate.

Hate against the upright-walkers. Those slow, clumbsy things that are not that great to eat after all. She found that out the easy way, although it was not one of the small ones that she had tasted.

She had not seen the small ones since she had begun killing the humans. She had seen less of the humans, for that matter. When she did see them, they were in groups, and they were covered with that foul stench stuff which had discouraged her from tasting them before.

She no longer cared how they tasted. She would let the Core at the center of all things take their body. She would take the rancid taste of the bitter powders in her mouth if she could wash it down with the blood of one of the hated two-legged ones.

And she would hunt them one, by one, by one, until only the Hunter was left. And when the Hunter understood what it was to be without family, then she would hunt the Hunter too.

~~~~~~

“You’re the mighty hunter! Do something about this menace! It’s killed six people since you killed its mate and its cubs and all you do is --”

“I have been out hunting it every day and most nights since it started it’s rampage,” Lubald interrupted the irrate woman. The … thing, or whatever this meeting was being called, had more or less been a contest of the villagers coming up with more of the same objections. “The beast is elusive, and its Stealth exceeds mine, quite frankly. It must fear me, but otherwise--”

“You haven’t found it because you haven’t had a child to bait it since we’ve been locking them indoors,” someone else shouted. “How dare you use a child as bait?”

“I did no such thing!” Lubald objected. “I was saving Rismuth from the beast that was about to pounce! He’ll tell you himself if you just ask him about that day, I was his protector!”

The argument devolved from there as various versions of the boy’s tale were recounted, loudly, by people who had heard them third hand, each retelling growing less forgiving for Lubald’s character. He tried to correct the record, but finally he had enough.

“Fine. Since you all have no interest in doing anything but blaiming me for something which I was sent here by the king to do, then I’ll simply go and do my duty. I’ll slay this maneater as I slew its mate, moments before it pounced on a helpless Child.”

Lubald took his leave, slamming the inn door shut behind him as the cowards inside shouted curses and insults after him. Nobody chased after him. They were not so eager to leave the inn these days; it was overpacked with those from the outlying farms.

Lubald was loaning out his own buildings for the cause, for that matter. Not just the three empty ones that had come with his house, but the house itself. He had been telling the truth when he claimed he had been stalking the man-eater every day since it had first begun its murderspree. He returned to his house only sporadically to sleep. Others stayed there while he was out.

This was not his fault. He had done his duty, assigned to him by the crown. He couldn’t have foreseen this outcome.

Worse, he was uncertain whether the message had gotten out to summon help. It was three days hard ride to Tuksan, but the messenger had been sent seven days ago. There should be a response by now.

Not that he knew what more manpower would do. Perhaps they could serve as bait, since that was the only established way to kill one of these beasts.

For a moment, he wished that the beast would come after him, but then he dismissed the thought. He was not so confident in his ability to out-stealth a Flame-Lynx. Not without a distraction.

He sighed and Stealthed out of the village, searching for the damn monster that was making his life miserable once more. He had only stopped searching to attend the village council, or thing, or whatever they were calling it.

“Lubald,” a voice called. He turned and saw Harvold there. He’d been avoiding the militiaman ever since their encounter which had resulted in Harvold losing a tooth. Lubald didn’t feel bad about what had happened, but it had been embarrassing when he’d sobered up. A Warrior bullying a Commoner was just unseemly, whether or not the Warrior was also a Lord.

“Have you come to accuse me of something again?” Lubald asked, his voice weary. “I haven’t been especially flirtatious lately, so--”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Bait,” Harvold said. “It’s the only way.”

Lubald’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“We need to bait the creature out. I despise myself for admitting this, but your method of using the children as bait is the only method that’s proven effective at luring them out,” Harvold said, spitting on the ground. He favored the same herb-chew that Antoine enjoyed.

“Wait, are you suggesting--”

“Not a child. It’s going after men and women now,” Harvold said quickly. “So let it come. Me and the boys, we talked about it, and we drew straws. Except I cheated. Don’t tell the others, but I volunteered. I’ll be your bait tonight.”

Lubald was silent as the man’s words clicked into place and they turned onto the same page of the same book for once. Lubald felt the man’s resolve radiating off of him, and damned if he didn’t feel lesser for the exposure.

“If it doesn’t show?” Lubald inquired.

“Then we try again tomorrow,” Harvold insisted. “And again and again until it works. If it doesn’t come after me, well, there are other volunteers. But you’re the highest level person in the village, and the only Ranger.”

“I might not spot it before it attacks you,” Lubald pointed out.

“I’ve made my peace with the idea that my life may depend on your protection, and that you might not be up to the task,” Harvold answered. “As long as we kill the creature, I’ll accept my lot.”

Lubald nodded, his resolve forming. It was not nearly as solid as the other man’s, but it was perhaps enough for him to stand on.

~~~~~~

Vengeance saw the foolish human leave the village alone. It was evening, perhaps he thought that she was asleep?

It was not the hated one, but another. One that had been with the other males beeting bushes and making noise instead of cowering inside the buildings of the place where the humans congregated. It had been with others then, too many to be sure of an easy victory, and Vengeance had been content to let them search for her in vain.

But now the noise-maker was alone. She watched, wondering what he was doing. Moving about the empty-buildings that had been abandoned, she realized. Tending the animals that had been left behind. The ones that Vengeance had not slaughtered, at least.

She decided to make one more dead human.

She was not afraid of him, but she stalked him carefully anyway. She knew that even a rat would fight for its life when cornered, and the human had a sharp-metal-thing-on-a-stick with him. She was fairly certain that was a weapon, something which might hurt her despite her rage and her strength. Her hatred was as cold as it as hot, burning like fire and frostbite at the same time. She would rip his throat out, but she would beware the spear.

He did not see her, foolish thing that he was, as she crept behind him. He did not see her as she poised to pounce. He did not see her as --

Twang!

She was in the air. Too late to dodge.

The arrow, that horrible weapon that had killed her mate, ripped through her belly.

Twang!

She was on the ground and moving in a different direction. The arrow collided with a tree behind her, the impact shattering the bark.

The spear wielder cried out in shock and turned, lowering his weapon and preparing to charge.

Trickery, she realized. Was this how Drinks-the-rain had died?

She fled. She had no shame of cowardice. She was vengeance, and she would survive to enact her name. She was gone in a flash, and leaving the slow and blind humans behind. She found a hidden place and she licked her wounds, planning her vengeance.

Next time, she would not be counter-ambushed by the Hunter.

She had been making a mistake, allowing him to live.

Once she had recovered, she would correct that mistake. Then she would clean the valley of its human infestation once and for all.

~~~~~~~

“You missed,” Harvold accused.

“If I’d missed you’d be dead, old man,” Lubald defended himself. “I hit with the first shot. The beast dodged the second. But it’s fine. She’s gut-shot with a poisoned arrow. She’ll bleed out on the way to her lair, just like her mate.”

“You say that, but I saw where the holes were in the pelt you were waving about before the killings started. Those were fatal wounds, or they would have been on a lesser beast,” Harvold reminded him. “Yet it lived long enough to lead you to its lair. Yet you say that the man-eater is only gut-shot. It’s a monster, with a high enough vitality it might overcome the injury and poison both.”

“So we track it down and give it a coup de grace,” Lubald argued. “It’s not a complicated prospect.”

Harvold frowned. “I am going to signal the others. Now that we have a trail, we can ambush it in unison and put an end to it.”

“Is that not what I just said?” Lubald inquired. “Run back to the village and fetch your men. I’ll mark its trail for you to follow.”

~~~~~~~

Vengeance was ill. She’d never been ill before, and the sensation was unfamiliar. The wound in her stomach would not heal, and she continued to lose blood. What blood remained in her body boiled, and she realized that she may be dying.

She would not die alone in a lair. She would die on the blades of the hated ones!

She pulled herself out of the hidden place where she had gone to rest, and just in time saw a flicker of motion.

Twang!

Instincts moved faster than thought, and she avoided the arrow.

Twang! Twang! Twang!

She no longer felt weak. She no longer felt sick. The hated one was here, and she would -

Twang!

The Arrow pierced her heart.

But her teeth closed around the hated one’s neck, and with the last of her strength, she ripped.

~~~~~~

They found him half-dead, covered in his own blood and the blood of the beast. They bandaged the wound as best they could, but the bleeding had mostly stopped already. If the beast had been much stronger when it had reached him, or if the level thirty-three Warrior had any fewer points in Constitution, he would be dead.

The Militiamen made a stretcher and carried him back to village, where the local apothecary woman would tend his wounds.

~~~~~~

Accross the valley, a flash of light, and another monster was spawned.

The Flame Lynx stared up in the night sky, and it pondered the moon for a moment. Then it vanished, searching for a lair, and perhaps something to eat. Ponders-the-moon was famished, and its apetite voracious. But he was a furious hunter, and he would make his first kill soon.

The only question was whether it would walk on four legs or two.