The capital city of Gibethon, Ajalon, was in an uproar. A councilman had been killed, murdered in his bed. All over the city warning bells were ringing, soldiers were everywhere, and the people were in a panic. Half the Guard was mustering for war.
Inside the castle, the big Council room was packed with the red and gold robes of the remaining members of Gibethon's Ruling Council. They too were frenzied and distressed. Right now Gibethon was at its most vulnerable. The Council had convened as soon as the news of Councilman Falin's death was known, for much had to be done to stabilize the kingdom. A new councilman had to chosen, funeral rites performed for the deceased, and the city reassured; and all of this had to be accomplished as soon as possible. The Ruling Council was such a compartmentalized group, that the death of one member meant the potential destruction of the kingdom. They could call on the Shadow King for aid, perhaps, but he seemed to be only a figment of the Council's imagination. He existed only in prophecy and legend. There would be no help for the people from that quarter. And they sorely needed it. That or speed of decisions. There were plenty of neighboring countries that would gladly snap up a crippled Gibethon. Gibethon's wealth alone, amassed from sea-trading and agriculture, was enough to tempt them. May The-One-Who-Made-The-Stars have mercy on them all.
Alone, at the edge of the knot of Councilmen, Dath ad Antoin of Anathod leaned against the cold stone wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, and smirked. He shook his head as he listened to the murmur of the Council's voices rise and fall with the mood and agitation of each member. Right now they were discussing the matter of finding Councilman Falin's murderer and bringing him to justice. They didn't even know the assassin's name.
A small chuckle escaped Dath's lips, and Councilman Anek broke off his conversation to turn and look at Dath.
"Do you have something to say?" Anek asked grumpily. Dath's smirk never left his lips.
"I do, actually." He uncrossed his arms and stepped up to the huge oaken Council table and planted his hands firmly on its worn-smooth surface. "While you all stand here, debating like hens in a yard, the man who murdered Councilman Falin is getting farther away. At the same time you overlook the only man who could bring him in." A few of the Councilmen's faces flushed red, but all remained silent, waiting. Dath paused a moment before saying, "I know who the killer is."
The council erupted in cacophony. Coucilman Anek motioned for silence.
"By all means, enlighten us." Invited Councilman Thirran dryly. Dath shook his head in dissent.
"No. Not yet. There are too many ears here for such sensitive information. I have a better idea."
"Are you calling one of us a traitor, bounty hunter?" Someone shouted. Dath merely raised his eyebrows in the speaker's direction, his satisfied smirk playing across his lips.
Councilman Anek sighed, massaging his temples. It was too early for this sort of thing. The sun wasn't even up yet. He needed coffee. He turned weary eyes on Dath. "What would you have us do?"
Dath's lips curved in a wolfish smile. "Send me."
***
Within two hours Dath had gathered his gear -- camping supplies, armor, weapons -- ever at the ready due to his usual occupation, and was on his way to the stables to collect his horse. Midway there he paused, then switched direction toward the Guard's barracks. He'd decided that he wanted a companion for this hunt, a man who knew his way around a fight.
A couple years ago a promising young captain had caught his eye, and Dath had taken him under his wing and had since tutored the lad in swordplay and battlefield tactics and strategy. The hard work had paid off.
Dath passed through the Guard's barracks, nodding respectfully to the officers there before striding into the training yard. Upon entering the yard, the clash of steel on steel and the calls and insults of the instructors met Dath's ears. Dath smiled faintly, the sounds bringing to the surface of his mind memories reminding him of a time now long past, memories of a him he hated, memories that reminded him exactly why he was a dangerous man. Memories he wasn’t proud of.
Dath surveyed the yard a moment before he saw him. Raven-haired Captain Kedemar ad Myrena of Kenrath, who flowed through his forms like water. His sword seemed to be but an extension of himself as he carved through the other captains and some cocky lieutenants. Dath smiled as he watched the young man fight. The lad was only less than twenty-five winters and already he was better than almost any swordsman Dath knew of. He really was very good. The boy reminded Dath of his own son, now dead.
"Captain Kedemar!" Dath called, cupping his hands over his mouth in order to be heard over the cacophony of the training yard. Kedemar left his newest sparring opponent bruised and gasping on the ground before striding over to Dath.
"Sir," the young captain said, saluting Dath by touching the middle knuckle of his index finger to his forehead and nodding respectfully. Dath returned the salute.
"I'm going hunting, and I'd like some company of this trek. Would you be interested in joining me, lad?" Dath spoke, laying out his offer. "We'd be gone until the One knows how long, and I don't know when we'd return."
Kedemar mused over Dath's offer for a moment.
"Hunting for what exactly?" He asked. Dath smiled wolfishly.
"Councilman Falin's assassin." He replied.
Kedemar's answering smile spread slowly across his face, but was no less wolfish than Dath's.
"Truth, I'm with you." The young captain said.
"Good." Dath smiled, pleased. "Gather your gear and meet me at the main gates of the city in twenty minutes."
***
When Kedemar strode into the shadow of the huge city gates, his knapsack slung over his shoulder, he gawked up at the massive stone arch as he did every time he passed this way. The sheer size and masterful workmanship of the gates never ceased to amaze him. He couldn't quite fathom the skill that the One-Who-Made-The-Stars had bestowed on whoever had built this. It seemed too lofty for a simple small-town orphan like him.
"Captain Kedemar!" Dath's voice cut across the noisy throng that packed the gates. Kedemar turned and shoved his way through the crowd to stand before the bounty hunter. Dath was leading two fine horses -- a sturdy fleet-footed chestnut mare and a black gelding big enough to carry a knight in full armor yet who looked as if he could maintain a considerable speed for a good length of time. Kedemar briefly wondered where a simple bounty hunter had gotten such fine horses. But he knew better than to ask.
"Here." Dath said, pressing the gelding's reins into Kedemar's hand.
"Thank you, sir." Kedemar replied, petting the horse’s nose. He clapped it on its sturdy neck and tied his knapsack behind the saddle.
"Just call me Dath like everybody else does." The bounty hunter said amiably as he swung himself easily into the mare's saddle and turned her toward the gates. Kedemar mirrored him. They kicked their horses into a trot and rode out of the city into the wide realm beyond.
***
After a week on the road, the two men crossed into the province of Kenrath. Dath led Kedemar south into a thick forest. Along the way, it began to rain. Dath glanced up and grimaced. Kedemar flipped the hood of his cloak up and shrugged the heavy wool of his cloak further up around his shoulders. He spurred his horse up next to Dath.
“Where exactly are we going?” The young captain asked, thinking that this didn’t look like hunting an assassin.
“To meet up with an acquaintance of mine.” Dath replied, gazing around the forest as if looking for something. “We’re not far now.”
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The rain gradually grew heavier, the men’s hair and clothing soon becoming soaked. The torrential downpour plastered their hair to their faces and ran in rivulets down their saddles and armor. The horses snorted and champed at the bits as they stepped along, steam rising from their sodden coats. The road was quickly becoming mud.
It wasn’t long before a small log cabin came into sight, obscured by the rain, yet with warm golden light spilling from the one window they could see. The sharp staccato THOK THOK THOK of someone splitting wood sounded through the small clearing in which the cabin sat. The rain-blurred figure of a petite woman was handling the axe, water streaming from her long dark hair.
Dath pulled his horse to a halt; Kedemar stopped beside him. Dath whistled long and loud. The woman looked up, laid aside her axe, and strode toward them. As she neared them, Kedemar was surprised that she was quite young, younger than himself. She was hardly more than a girl, really. Yet there was a maturity to her bearing and a steel in her eyes that told him that she was not to be underestimated.
"Dath!" She called grumpily as she drew close, her dark eyes flashing with irritation. "In the rain? Seriously? Could you not have waited?"
As the two men dismounted, Dath favored her with a fond smile as she neared them. "I didn't know it was going to rain, Natalya. Thank you for meeting me anyway. I’m glad to see you. My errand is most urgent.” Relief filled him as he studied her and found her in good health with no visible injuries. It seemed she had fared well in the time since he’d seen her last.
Natalya sighed. "'Tis not your fault, Dath. Truth, you could not have known. Still, it's bad luck." She gave him a wry smile. “I suppose you need my help in hunting down yet another quarry?”
Dath smiled in return. “If you would.” He jingled a coin purse on his belt. “I will pay you well.”
“Keep your coin.” Natalya replied. “You know me better than to think I’d accept payment. You know I’d go to the ends of the earth of you.” She turned her gaze to Kedemar, regarding him with curiosity. “Who’s this?”
“Forgive me. Where are my manners? Natalya, this is Kedemar ad Myrena of Kenrath, Captain of the Guard.” Dath introduced them. “Kedemar, this is Natalya ab Hiram of Kenrath.”
Kedemar gave her a bow the likes of which he’d learned during his time at court. Natalya gave him an amused look before turning back to Dath.
“Come in out of the rain and rest,” she invited. “You’ve surely been in the saddle for days. Surely your quarry can wait a few hours more.”
Dath smiled. “Thank you, but no. I cannot rest while the scent is fresh.”
“Well, at least come in and indulge me in a cup of coffee. Get warm and dry. You’re both soaking wet!” So saying, Natalya turned and walked to the cabin. Dath moved to follow her but Kedemar caught his arm. Dath turned and looked at him.
"Dath! Really? Her?" Kedemar’s protest blurted from his lips the instant Natalya was out of earshot. Dath fixed him with a hard look until the young man dropped his eyes.
"She's the best tracker and hunter in the land." Dath spoke sternly. "Do not judge her so harshly. She has born pain and tragedy you know nothing about. Most of that grief has happened in the rain. She has reason to dislike it. But I need her skills in this. She'll be joining us in our hunt. You will be kind to her, or you will deal with me.” Dath strode towards the cabin, leaving Kedemar puzzling over his words.
Inside, the little cabin was warm and dry and homey. Dath shed his cloak and settled it to dry by a merry blaze crackling in the hearth. A small kettle rested over the flames, and Dath took a quick peek inside before heading over to a cupboard set in the wall, satisfied that there was plenty of water in the kettle. The smell of warm, wet wool soon filled the room as Kedemar, too, shed his cloak and sat himself by the hearth.
“Filling my home with the stink of wet wool, Dath?” Teased Natalya, stepping out of the cabin’s tiny bedroom, toweling her hair dry. “That’s not a very nice going-away gift.”
Dath grinned, withdrawing a sack of coffee beans and a grinder from the cupboard.
“And raiding my cupboards, I see.” Natalya arched an amused eyebrow at the teasing smile of the bounty hunter.
“Yes, well, I’d be poor friend if I didn’t do anything for you.” Dath shot back, grinding beans. Kedemar smiled at their banter, leaning back against the warm stones of the hearth. Outside the rain drummed, but inside the cabin all was cozy and safe. Natalya tossed her towel onto the hearthstones and moved to find cups. Kedemar studied Natalya through drowsy eyes. To his surprise her hair was curly. Not all-the-way-out curly, but definitely more than just wavy. She was dressed in a simple grey tunic and a leather jerkin that went down to her knees. A heavy dagger hung on a belt at her hip, and Kedemar had no doubt she could use it well. He watched her smile and tease, her large dark eyes glinting in the firelight, but she never laughed, and he thought back on Dath’s earlier words. The young captain was curious who this young waif of a girl actually was. Maybe her home would tell him something about her. He turned his gaze to the walls as the scent of coffee beans filled the air.
The cabin walls were unadorned except for two portraits, one of which showed a young Natalya standing beside a tall man and woman, and three other children, grinning red-heads all. The other picture was of Natalya as a small child, held in the arms of a dark-haired man and a blond woman. A sandy-haired youth stood smirking mischievously in front of them. All were happy. Kedemar wondered who those people were and why Natalya wasn’t with them now. He thought again of Dath’s words, then abruptly yanked his thoughts away from the dangerous place in his mind that that train of thought threatened to take him. He returned to studying the walls. A beautifully-made recurve bow and a bulging quiver of arrows hung next to the paintings. In another area a white grey-spotted mountain cat pelt hung over a large portion of the wall. He wondered if Natalya had killed it. Such beasts were rare in Kenrath.
Dath handed Kedemar a steaming cup of coffee, startling him out of his musings. The young captain handled it gingerly, nodding his thanks and gratefully sipping the hot bitter brew. It warmed him from the inside out.
Dath handed another cup to Natalya and kept one for himself. He sipped his drink appreciatively.
Kedemar’s eyes bulged and he nearly spit out his mouthful of drink as he watched Natalya dunk a spoonful of honey into her brew. Dath saw his face and laughed.
“The lass doesn’t like her brew like we do.” The bounty hunter explained. “She sweetens hers with honey while we men drink it as the One intended for it to be drunk: hot and black.”
Natalya wrinkled her nose in amusement. “The One-Who-Made-The-Stars also made honey.” She countered, stirring her drink. “And He intended for it to sweeten. Truth?”
Kedemar watched their back-and-forth for a moment, then put out his hand.
“Pass the honey, please.” He requested, a slow smile spreading across his face. Natalya choked on her coffee. Dath roared with laughter. Kedemar couldn’t keep from grinning at the look on Natalya’s face as he dunked into his brew a spoonful of the sticky, gooey stuff.
He stirred. Then sipped. And raised his eyebrows in surprise at the savory sweetness that spread across his tongue. Dath slapped his knee and roared. Natalya grinned.
“Well,” Dath said in between peals of laughter, “looks like you’ve gained an acolyte in the cult of adding-honey-to-perfectly-good-coffee, lass!
For a moment there was only levity in the little cabin, and no dark and serious thoughts could intrude.
But then Natalya glanced out the window, downed her coffee, and said, “Well, when the cups are washed and put away, then I’ll be ready to go.” Dath nodded and tossed the dregs of his cup into the fire. Kedemar gulped down the rest of his own brew, not heeding his scalded throat. In no time at all, the cups and kettle were cleaned and put in their proper places, and Natalya disappeared into the bedroom only to reappear a moment later with a full knapsack. She took the bow and quiver down from the wall and vanished outside to saddle a little dappled-grey mare who she called Snowspot, as Kedemar spilled sand over the fire to douse it. Then the young captain swung his cloak around his shoulders and stepped outside to where Dath had readied their horses. They mounted up and waited while Natalya glanced back at her home one more time. Then the girl mounted up and the three turned their horses toward the trees.
So it was three companions who rode into the forests of Kenrath, heading ever south.
***
Far away, high in the mountains of the kingdom of Kathiare, Mendenlau, lord of that land, sat, angry and brooding, in his cold stone throne. His time was near. He could feel it. Close was the day when Gibethon’s Shadow King would make a slip, when the Ruling Council would have to reveal their subterfuge, when the gates of Ajalon would open for Mendenlau to march in and conquer. Already he had pieces in play. Now he only waited for news.
The throne room door crashed open and a courier hurried in, dropping quickly to his knees at Mendenlau's feet.
"News, lord." He gasped out. Mendenlau leaned forward expectantly.
"Speak." He commanded.
"One of Gibethon's councilmen has been murdered and Dath ad Antoin of Anathod is hunting the killer. He took a warrior of Kenrath with him."
Mendenlau leaned back against his throne, sighing in satisfaction. "Which councilman?" He asked, though he thought he already knew.
“Councilman Falin, the head of the Ministry of Warfare." Was the courier's answer. Mendenlau's anger vanished, and a conniving smile curved his lips. Gavin had not failed him after all. It seemed the assassin had accomplished the deed one way or another.
"Well, then. It begins." He said. "The foretellings are coming to fruition. That thrice-cursed bounty hunter is most likely heading into Kenrath to find his second warrior, as the Prophecy of Dinath Camuen decrees. No doubt Dath thinks he can outwit me. Prepare my assassins. Send Fay after Dath’s company. When he is done with them, send him after Gibethon’s true ruler.” The king chuckled menacingly. “Their precious Shadow King is soon to be no more.”
***
The party of three hunters stopped for the night, still in the vast forests of Kenrath, still heading south. The smell of salt was in the air; they were nearing the sea. Dath and Kedemar set up camp while Natalya slipped off into the trees to scout. While she was gone, the men got the campfire going. Perhaps it would have been wiser to have waited until Natalya gave the all-clear, but Dath was confident as to what the young huntress’s report would be.
Dath fished his pipe from his pocket and filled it. He took a seat on a knee-high, flat-topped rock, lit his pipe, and tucked it between his lips as he watched Natalya return. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at her. She shook her head at him.
“No sign of anything human for at least a mile’s radius.” She reported. “We’re alone out here.”
Dath nodded. “For now. I have a fair idea of who hired that assassin. I have no doubt we'll have one or more of those on our trail before long. News travels fast."
"How do you know this?" Kedemar asked.
Dath smiled grimly. "I'm a bounty hunter, lad. I have been for a long time. You don't live long in this trade unless you learn these skills fast. Trust me, we'll be having company soon enough. Now rest up, both of you. Tomorrow I aim to visit an old friend, and I don't think he'll be pleased to see me."
Natalya raised an eyebrow at Dath. "An old 'friend', Dath?" She said. "You have an unusual way of describing your enemies."
Kedemar chuckled as he settled himself, an arm propped on his knee, on his bedroll beside the fire. Dath allowed a wry smile to curve his lips.
“Yes, well, I have plenty of those.” He said softly, staring into the flames.