Chapter 8 - The Hunter
Ohio territory April 1864 Americas
Erik Cullen had a feeling they were being followed on the trail. It was something he couldn’t shake for over the past hundred miles. Running Brook could feel it as well. It was no white man, or native that was following them. There was a dark presence, foreboding and cold. The Ohio region could be cold in April however, Erik never remembered it being this this cold. There was no sign of animals. That put both of them on high alert. It seemed like the natives of this region had abandoned the area months ago. What struck Erik even more unusual, on this path he would usually run into a fellow trapper. At this point on their journey, the land was a still as a graveyard. Today, they had traveled over twenty miles and the land was too quiet. Erik nor Running Brook has spoken a word, they had just exchanged signs to communicate. It was another fifty miles to the nearest settlement. At least a day and a half hard ride. Erik knew he had to rest the animals soon. They were very hearty, being native ponies. They were stronger than the usual trail horse and could go much longer distances. Even so, they too needed rest and food.
The two travelers had covered their ponies with soft buckskin to hide any sound of their hooves coming through the rocky trail. The only noise that could be heard for miles was cold wind wisping through the trees or winding through the rocks. There was no snapping of branches on trees from the usual animals, nor the flight of birds as they headed to the nearest stream. Erik signed to Running Brook that he knew of a small cave where they could hunker down for the night. Both of them knew, even with the cold bleak weather, they would have to make a cold camp. They had watered the horses and filled their water skins to the brim. They once again continued to the cave Erik had suggested. He knew most of this territory. They should be getting very close to the Oxford rail station. He hoped that would to get them to New York city.
Erik’s sense of smell was very keen, that was something he had tuned over the past several gifted lifetimes traveling. It was always very handy for him. He found sight was not always very reliable. He found at times, even sound could fail him. He let his mind wander for a moment and remembered Running Brook sneaking up on him rather well if she wanted. It was her smell, the lavender she wore that made it easy to identify her. The body odors of men and beasts were easy to pick out in the wind. He wondered if it was another added gift of the amulet he had been wearing. He had been wearing it for so long, he honestly couldn’t remember what gifts were his own skills. He was thankful none the less. It would be a cold camp tonight and absolute silence hiding in the small cave if he could find it. He knew that both of them wanted nothing more than a warm fire and hot nettle tea to remove the ache of the cold deep in their bones. It just couldn’t happen with the feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. He just hoped with the ponies and the makeshift shelter in the cave it would be enough to at least hide them. It was a well known cave to the braves in the area, the trappers would pass on by. It was going to be a tight squeeze with all of them in there.
Running Brook signaled to him. “Close?”
“Soon.” Was all Erik could reply. He knew that this was very unusual for the land to be this quiet. Birds would pay no mind to a couple of riders in the woods. There would still be bird song on a normal day. It was still complete silence as they rode with the buckskin shod ponies. She pulled out a buffalo robe to keep herself warmer due to the unusual temperature drop. Erik signaled to her that he saw the small outcrop of rocks, then dismounted silently to lead the ponies in.
“Cold camp. Signal only. No words. Do not leave cave. Arm yourself. I will get water.” He signaled. Erik helped her dismount carefully. They quietly lead the ponies into the cave. He began to cover the cave with branches to make it look like the entrance did not exist. In his pouch he brought out a small bit of salt then threw a bit around the front of the entrance. He went to the creek they had been staying close to and filled up both of the water skins as full as he could. As he stood up, the wind blew lightly filling Erik’s nostrils with an unwelcome smell. He understood why the area was so quiet now. His instinct was right, they were being followed. The sun’s bleak rays were almost done setting behind the trees. Night was nearly upon them. In Erik’s gut he knew there would be no moon to light the sky tonight.
The smell of burnt rot filled Erik’s nose, making his head spin. No matter how many years passed, or how many close calls he had, this was one smell he could never get used to. His mind was racing to silently get back to the cave. What was out this time? How many? What rank?
He could feel the last bit of heat from the suns fleeting rays being stolen. He swiftly and silently made his way back to the cave. He was very thankful he had covered it. He was pretty confident that nothing could find it. The dwelling would have his protection the moment he entered. The gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach still would not leave. If this was a low class Cambion, Erik knew he could easily take it down. Lately more and more direct children of Belial himself were running rampant. Erik honestly had no idea if he had the skill set to take down such a creature. The pendant on Erik’s chest began to radiate heat as he made it inside the cave. The ponies were silent, which was unusual for them. Even their breathing was slow and shallow. They stood frozen in the back of the cave. Running Brook signaled to Erik.
“Something wrong?”
“Yes.” He signaled back. “Stay low. Stay silent.”
The strong smell of rot filled Erik’s nose but didn’t come any closer. He could feel his pendant’s warmth through his buckskin cloth but not burn his flesh. Through his extended lifespan, there was always some sort of new mystery from the ancient pendant that was gifted to him. He knew at some point he would have to tell Running Brook more about his purpose in the Americas. He knew he could trust her. There was always this deep guilt he felt about bringing her into his world. He looked at her, she was hiding in this cave with him, no questions asked.
“Bad.” She signaled. Erik looked at her perplexed. She shook her head in frustration. Signaling was limited. While he was pretty fluent in the tribal code, there was still quite a bit of the language that he had to learn. She began to draw quietly in the dirt floor a very old symbol Erik immediately recognized. It was a drawing of a creature with the head of a lion and the body of a snake. It made his blood turn to ice. His biggest fears were justified. At least one of them had been here or had some influence. As he looked at the drawing closer, the head was indeed an African lion. He studied it close, it was not the Pumas that were so common on the mountain ranges here. They would have never seen such a creature. Yet, here this drawing was of Belial himself, thousands of miles away from his supposed creation. Erik began to wonder about Alexander Humboldt’s theory of the map. He said that it almost looked like the continents fit together like puzzle pieces. It was being talked about in several universities at the moment. Erik just stood dumbfounded at the drawing. This huge clue might help on finding the riders at a later time, he made a mental note. Time was nothing for them, the only ones running out were mankind. It made Erik think how man is a fragile creature. He stood up and put his hand on the water skins. He thought even the gift of water has the power to bring mankind life, had the same ability to destroy in the blink of an eye.
“Man has no chance.” A voice in the distant croaked. Erik and Running Brook froze solid. “I may not be able to sense you, but I know you are out there. I just come to deliver a message from my master.” The voice cracked and laughed. The noise sounded like gurgle from a rotted wind pipe. “Turn back now. Live what pathetic life you have left in peace. We will leave you alone. Don’t be foolish. We have turned even the strongest of you into pillars of ash. Just read the good book. We can corrupt anyone. That little wildflower will be your undoing Samson. Hand it over now and be free of your burden. If not, you know, you’ll never live in peace. None of you will. The age of man is over. We will have the rider, and the power that comes with. I will give you some time to think it over.” He laughed and choked. Erik could smell blood and rot in the air with each word the voice uttered. It made his head spin to the point of passing out. He held his hand over his chest where his amulet was giving off the soft soothing warmth. He felt his head start to ache a bit less.
He noticed Running Brook’s color draining from here face. The horses were slowly lying down as if the energy was being drained out of them. He grabbed her waist, then motioned her to lie down. He made sure to touch each horse. His head was spinning and each movement was painstaking. He knew the amulet gave him immunity from whatever was outside. He prayed it could possibly create a shield for them, as long as he was touching all of them, he hoped. He felt her pulse steady a little bit and the ponies just lulled into a sleep. He prayed it was enough to get them through the night at least. He could hear the voice laughing and the smell bouncing around from different angles outside. It too became unbearable for him. His head was swimming in pain and then darkness overtook him.
Morning came the warmth of the sun filled the cave. To both the exhausted travelers surprise, the woods were once again filled with the sounds of birds and crows. Even the ponies were standing back up.
“Drink,” Running brook threw a small container of whiskey at Erik.
“Firewater?” He looked very perplexed. “I thought this was forbidden in your clan?”
“Yes and no.” She smiled. “One sip and then water. We need to talk.” She said softly almost in a whisper. “ Will it be safe to do so while riding?” Erik followed her instructions and then started to drink heavy out of the water skin.
“I believe so. I hear the animals outside. I actually think I might be able to hunt something small for breakfast. Let me go outside first. I need that locked box.” She had only seen him open it a few times, and had only seen papers come out of it. She had handed him the long box attached to the rear of his pony. For the first time she questioned how unusually heavy it was for just maps. He pulled a small key off around his neck. From the side of the box there was an almost unseen keyhole. He fit in the key and a beautiful broadsword came out, identical in length to the huge maps. He then strapped his short bow and several arrows to his back and then left the small cave.
It was as Erik feared, he could see the burnt rot from whatever was after them. It was still a good distance away, about 50 meters away from the cave. They were high up enough and thankfully well hidden. He took a great sigh of relief. It was a hunter subclass, he figured as much. They were powerful but not the actual entity himself. He said a short prayer of thanks, he knew they could have been in real trouble. The fact that they even had a hunter that close was a real issue in itself. He knew they had to get to the rail fast. At least the dangers they would be facing in the city, he hoped would be even less. He could easily take down or spot an incubus or familiar. That’s what he was accustom to while walking the streets with the common folk. What they encountered last night was neither. What was going on? At least the path they were headed was clear. He was grateful for that. Within minutes he had spotted a few quail and taken them down with several arrows and brought them back to the cave.
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“We need to move on. We will get more water upstream. I say an hour’s hard ride, then let the ponies rest and graze. We will cook these then. I don’t trust the water here.” Erik put the sword back in the case, then locked everything back on his steed. Running Brook packed up her buffalo robe and mounted as well. Her eyes were not showing fear, just great concern. They broke free from the cave and began the hard hour ride, not a word spoken.
They came to a clearing where the brook had widened a bit. There was still plenty of tree cover, it looked as if there was plenty of graze for the ponies. Erik had slowed them down into a trot, then a walk and finally a stop. He loved the way the mustang would ride. They were smaller horses, but extremely tough. In his option, better than any Arabian he had ever ridden. The breed of horse had so much heart as well unyielding loyalty so long as they were treated right. He led his steed to a large patch of rich, tall grass before dismounting and removing a few items. Running Brook followed his lead and they went close to the brook. She began to prep the fresh kill Erik had caught.
“I know you want answers.” He said to her rather softly.
“I am sure you have questions for me as well.” Running Brook said hesitantly. As she began to pluck the feathers off the quails.
“I honestly don’t know where to start.” Erik poured some water from the freshly filled animal skins and poured it on his face.
“Who is this Samson?” Running Brook said almost with a fear in her eyes.
“It’s part of a story in what your tribe calls our Good Book, our God.” Erik began to stumble on his words. “In the story, God gave a man extreme might and power to defeat his enemies. This man didn’t ask for it either, this gift was given to him. I will make the story very short. There was a catch to his power. It was between him and God.”
“What about yours? There are several elders in my tribe and rumors about you….” She started to go on and Erik put his hand on her lips.
“You don’t have to worry. Mine thankfully comes to an end. I have full control over that part, at my own choosing, let me finish the story. He told the woman he loved his secret and she sold that power to his enemies. He lived, however, in slavery for many years. God did grant him his power back one last time. In the end he destroyed everyone including the woman he loved. However, that was also her choice, for in the end she saw the error of her ways. With mine unfortunately, once it’s gone or destroyed, it is gone. There is no turning back. My hope is, once my time is done, to pass it on to the next that is to take my place. It could be someone I don’t even know. In some cases, it might be a grandchild or son. That’s the case with the gentlemen we are meeting.”
“In your case?” She asked quietly as she began to roast the quails over the fire.
“I don’t really remember. It was a long time ago. This is not my first time over here to this wild land, I can say that. I have been chasing several things. When the chief says go, you don’t argue.” They both laughed.
“You are wondering about the drawing in the cave.”
“Yes.” Erik swallowed hard. “It’s not something that belongs here. At least not to my knowledge. What do your people call it?”
“Noir hotooni, Black Mouth in your tongue, for the lies the creature spreads. They are false and cause nothing but damage and harm among our people.” She stared blankly at the fire. “It’s just a dark legend I know very little. It is a story that is not spoke of much in our tribe. Only the shamans pass it down. I know about it because father is chief. I would always sneak out and listen to as much as I could about the old stories, until I got caught.” A crooked smiled formed on her mouth.
“We all were one people once, united. Black Mouth came and our people broke apart. He gave others dark gifts if they stood by him, but at a cost. They now roam the lands never to rest, never to be with our mother the earth, never to be with father sky. They may never feel brother river on their skin, only blood can satisfy them. Soon after a bright light came to a select few and touched their hearts, the light gave them gifts as well. Some received the power of brother eagle, or sister beaver, brother wolf it varied.” She looked up at the blue sky.
“There was a great battle many fought in, as the legend goes. There were three riders on top of the mountains with horses three times the size of ours. One on a giant black steed, the second stood in silence, almost in prayer with the great father spirit aside a pale white horse. They were both cloaked. They were watching the battle. There was a third that was spoke of, all in red, with a giant red mount leading the attack with Black Mouth. That rider charged down one of the other mountain sides, melting the snow. Flooding the valleys causing so much destruction. Our warriors were losing the battle, not many were left. The rider in black charged in. The land split under the hooves of the horse. The flood waters drained, turned our losing fight into a winning one. The rider was then halted, almost pulled back and rode off. The pale rider stayed behind, waiting there. Our people can still see the cracks in the earth where the dark rider took off. In that battle, we received a gift, creating some of the great valleys we hunt our buffalo.” She put her head in her hands.
“However, I feel their effort was in vain. Our tribes are still at war. The white man has come on our land and I fear our hopes of peace are dwindling.” She said sadly.
“I can’t tell you what the future holds. What I can say, our chief of sorts is looking for the rider. I don’t think your story is a story.” Erik said ripping off a hunk of hot meat from his stick.
“It’s an old story. Black Mouth lives in the heart of men. I have seen it even in my own tribesmen with their thirst for battle or fighting among themselves over a hunt. It’s just a lesson and not a very good one.” Running Brook said as she threw a hunk of fat into the fire.
“What is around your neck?” her voice was almost a whisper. Erik tried to dance around the question.
“I have several things around my neck including something our father gave me,” he half smiled. He pulled out the wolf and bear claw necklace, it had actually been digging into his neck a bit. He adjusted it around his neck in plain sight. Her face began to grow red with anger.
“I felt something last night. It was heat.” She shook her head in confusion. “Wolf and bear claws don’t make fire.” She pulled out her deer horn blade as quick as lightning and revealed a small glint of the chain on his neck. “That. You think I am blind? I know the chain goes down farther.” She had no intention of cutting his throat, just getting her point across. She bounced the metal off her blade and sat back down. “Are you going to start actually talking or do I have to make you dance?” She threw the blade between his feet.
“Point taken.” Erik said as he rolled his eyes. “Now I know why your father said you would make a good chief.” He chuckled to himself. “I will be honest with you. I don’t know exactly what I have. It’s different for each of us.” She looked at him rather strangely. “Alright, I will give you an example. Your skills are completely different than those of your siblings, am I right?” She nodded. “You hold your bow different that your father, do you not?” She nodded again. “That’s the best way I can explain it.” He scratched his head. He knew this was not going to be easy.
“There have been others who have held this responsibility long before me. We are going to New York to meet a few new ones, they are a bit younger than I am.” He smiled.
“How old are they?” She asked. Erik sighed deep relief. He got to dodge this question a little while longer of his actual age.
“Early twenties I believe. They have just became Gatekeepers. We all feel a bigger war is coming, certain things tip the scale. We try to keep balance as best we can.” Erik took another larger drink of water.
“What was that thing that was after us? Will it come again?” Her eyes grew wide with fear. Erik knew that the open woods were always a safe place for her. What happened last night shook her to her core.
“I wish I could say it won’t happen again. I think it was an Incubus hunter, at least that’s what I could gather by the smell.”
“I couldn’t smell anything,” she wrinkled her nose. “The men in camp get pretty ripe, especially in the summer. It’s almost spring, it wouldn’t be hard to smell.”
“Maybe it’s something only I can smell then. You have come across a week-old kill, and the smell hits you like a punch. Well think of that on a hot summer day, in standing water but much worse. It was making my head spin, till I eventually blacked out.”
“I wondered what happened. I felt freezing cold until you grabbed onto the horses and me. I felt peace and warmth. I can’t explain it. My buffalo skins keep me warm on cold nights. This I can’t explain, it was as if a fire was coming off you. The horses felt it too. There was a calm about them I have only seen around my father. We felt another presence there, hard to explain it was old and very strong.”
“I remember not much other than hearing what you did. I was doing my best trying not to get sick.” Erik began to clean up camp. “When we make it into town, my guess is there is going to be several low rank things after us. I don’t think its nothing you, or I can’t handle with regular weapons. We both have strong wills and minds. The main problem I have run into, is the influence. They can use others, manipulation in groups. It can be an issue. I have gotten outnumbered a few times, real quick. As long as we lay low, keep our heads down, blend in, we should have no issues. I normally stop in with the local law enforcement to see what the mood is like in the area. It’s useful to feel things out, sometimes even help out a little bit. It’s valuable clearing out some of the nuisance trash in the area and made my journey a lot easier coming and going.”
“Your serious?” Running Brook looked at him, her eyes as wide as a full moon. “They don’t take too kindly to my people right now.” Running Brook grimaced and Erik let out a heavy sigh.
“As I have said we blend in. I never said it was right. Remember what I said, weak minds are easily influenced. Just because someone is smart, doesn’t mean that their mind isn’t weak. Right now, we are outrunning troops from the south. I don’t have to worry about union soldiers, but there could be a hot-headed officer. There are plenty of soldiers on both sides, desperate right now and Prince Leraje is known for causing all sorts of havoc. It’s gotten out of control.” Erik said grimly.
“There are no Princes here.” Running brook said.
“Book of Solomon. Long story.” Erik ran his fingers through his hair. This was getting rather messy for his taste. He could only imagine what was going through Running Brooks mind. She honestly must think he was absolutely insane. “That’s where we come in. The need for the Gatekeepers. He can’t get out, but they find ways. Very frequently I might add. The more corrupt men become, the easier it is for them to get out. Seals crack or are opened by idiots bribed by false riches, knowledge or power.”
“Sounds like fun.” Running Brook scoffed.
“The road to hell is always paved with the best intentions, remember that. Never fails.” Erik loaded up his mustang and Running Brook did the same. “Come on we have a hard ride to the next town. I have no idea when the next train is going to get us out of here. We have to be prepared for anything. Are you still up for this?” He asked sheepishly. “I need you on this trip. You know a lot of the local tribes. We will be heading into the deep wilderness again, once we pick up our new traveling companions in New York. I am not going to force you. This is your choice. I can still take you up to the Canadian border trail to have you meet your father.” Erik said, his voice soft and calm. Running Brook bit her lip as she mounted her horse. He could tell that she was thinking what had she gotten herself into.
“I will come. I believe there is a reason the great winds have crossed our paths. I trust in the great father to guide my way.” She nodded.
“As do I,” Erik smiled. He tapped the soft deer skin reigns and like the fast prairie winds, they were off again, riding hard into the wild terrain.