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West of Faenella, Eganene

Tonight’s fire was smaller, which made his job more difficult. It was just a tiny pile of sticks and branches, barely enough to roast the game they caught. Carl’s stomach rumbled as he pulled the last hunk of cheese from his pack. He was as close as he dared, about forty feet or so from Jeremy. He dared not move closer. With such a small flame, the men would be able to see clearly into the forest.

The trees here were less dense than in the mountains, the bald rocks jutting out from the stony ground. Jeremy and the Dog had traveled northwest from morning until dusk. Carl was impressed, impressed and tired. It had been a busy couple of days. Hunting and tracking usually took a lot of time, more patience and waiting than actual movement.

“Another day,” the Dog complained. They made no effort to be quiet.

Jeremy wiped a hand across his baldpate, “Yeah, maybe two.”

The other man grunted, ripping a piece of meat off whatever they had on the skewer. Carl’s guess was squirrel. Not his favorite meat, but better than nothing.

“I’ve not been this way before,” Jeremy continued, taking another stick of meat from the fire. “I’m going off the directions you gave me.”

“Me neither, actually. Last time I came from the West.”

Jeremy looked up, firelight glimmering across the wicked scar that split his face. “West, huh? Why were you out there?”

“Work mostly. I helped the Company with the Areaslian Insurrection.”

“Didn’t realize you were involved in that.”

“Yeah. Bad business,” the Dog sighed. “The Insurrection wasn’t much of a problem. It took us longer to get out there than it did to get them in hand. But as soon as we had the Areasl settled, the damn creatures came.”

“Ah,” Jeremy breathed, “the Bodin.”

The other man shifted his shoulders. “They were awful. We were well positioned and the Areaslians had decent fortifications. We got through using Travelers, so the walls of Gaden were still intact. It was a good thing, too. The Bodin were massive-- two or three feet taller than a man. Double the weight.”

Carl could almost see it, monsters the size of bears running out of the desert. The conquerors and conquered alike sitting high in the peaks watching.

“There were so many that even the Areaslians were surprised. Their legends tell that the monsters used to be men, but that the desert changed them. They say there was an explosion that resembled a mushroom in the sky and that the beasts appeared not long after that.” The Dog tucked his brown hair beneath the hood and pulled another skewer from the fire.

“How many were you?” Jeremy asked, interested.

Carl noted that he said “you” and not “us”.

The larger man stuck a finger in the air to indicate that he needed a minute, and tore another chunk of meat from his stick. Jeremy used the time to fetch a few more sticks for the fire. Luckily, he chose the opposite direction from Carl.

“So?” Jeremy asked, returning.

“We had a few hundred and the Areaslians numbered in the thousands. When we saw what was coming for us, we gave them their weapons back. I think, at that point, they were happy to have us there.”

“Their commander was dead, but the man who replaced him told us this was the third time in a month that they’d been attacked, albeit with smaller numbers. Our Manager, Guyan, had us form up. The Areaslians didn’t have much in the way of firepower. What they did have we weren’t going to return to them. Our long shots took the higher ramparts.”

“How many of you had guns?” Jeremy asked, sucking on a bone.

“Maybe twenty-five long-range weapons. Another twenty short.”

“That’s a lot of fire-power.”

The Dog grunted, “Perhaps against the Areaslians, but fighting the Bodin is something else entirely. It was lucky we were in the castle when the creatures attacked. We have nothing like it here. Truly, the fortifications are impressive-- thick stone carved from the mountain’s face forms their walls. Inside the mountain itself, they have a whole town. That’s where the woman and children waited.”

Carl noticed he’d stopped eating. He was lost in the story, remembering.

“The creatures are intelligent, with hideous features. Their faces look human, but that doesn’t make it better. Sometimes the Bodin have missing limbs or eyes, sometimes even part of their faces. And sometimes they had more, pieces of other bodies growing from their backs and sides as if all the gods had abandoned them.”

Jeremy snickered, “They may have their own gods, you know. Gods who like extra eyes and bulges on their backs.”

“Perhaps. They are cruel gods, then. I don’t know if the monsters are capable of speech. They didn’t seem to communicate, unless it was by screams and howls.”

“Yet, you said they came in mass.”

The other man nodded, checking that his gun was still at his hip. “True, they seemed to work together, but they could have been them following one another about. Either way, they are difficult to kill. Pain doesn’t seem to effect them as it does men. A headshot is the only thing that’ll take them down in one.”

“Definitely makes it harder.”

“For sure. But that wasn’t the only thing that could kill them. The Areaslian smiths have come up with a few good ideas. My favorite was the axe. They have these sharp talons on the end that they use to put a hole where a bullet should go. Different method, same purpose.”

“Still, I’d rather have a gun. Our sharpshooters killed fifty before the monsters reached the gates, but the Bodin don’t stop to mourn their dead. They just keep coming, running over the fallen.

Guyan sent the Travelers to flank, but they returned unsuccessful. There was no definitive line to get behind, just more and more coming in groups of five to ten. They did find the creature’s obelisk and considered destroying it, but there were too many surrounding it. They reported hundreds beneath its shadow.”

“And if they blew it to pieces, then the rest of the hoard might’ve attacked,” Jeremy supplied.

“Exactly.”

While they were distracted with the story, Carl crept closer. He was twenty-five feet behind Jeremy and had started edging to the left. It would take some time. He usually didn’t like getting this close.

Slow and careful, he thought. His pulse had quickened and he could feel the warmth in his fingers, the blood pumping faster.

“When the Bodin hit the base of the fortress, the whole building shook. They had fashioned grappling equipment from who knew what. It was all junk. Out in the West they have these enormous pits. They have them south of us too, you know. They’re just under the surface of the ground, enormous pits full of rotting garbage and strange objects from the other side.

The Bodin must’ve been raiding them for weapons and parts. The Areaslians didn’t think they had the capability for ironwork. The objects were odd, strange chains and metal wire they fashioned into ropes. They didn’t have guns, but they’d sharpened the scavenged metal into lethal knives.”

“Impressive for creatures without speech.”

The Dog nodded, “Even the unarmed ones were deadly. They had freakish bodies and their muscles dwarfed those of men. If they got you in their hands, that was it. They’d slam your head against the ground so hard it’d burst like a melon.”

Jeremy shook his own head, “Unnatural monsters.”

“We tried hard to keep them from the ramparts, but once the Bodin were climbing, the Areaslians were useful. At their new commander’s call, the women and children came out of hiding, hauling buckets of burning pitch. Arrows and rocks dropped many of the monsters, but they continued climbing. The pitch was more effective, burning their eyes from their sockets.”

He grinned. “They sounded a little more human then, running about screaming. Sometimes they went into rages, taking out the nearest monsters in their panic. The Areaslians cheered each time a monster fell. There was a lot of cheering that day, but as night fell, there were still a hundred monsters at the walls.

We battled through the night and through the next few days. Men dropped from exhaustion and the Areaslian women cared for us the same as their own. We were able to rejoin the battle after a few hours of their care.”

“Don’t misunderstand me,” he continued, rubbing the side of his jaw. “We lost a lot of men, more than we expected. The Areaslians lost more, many, many more. Strangely though, once the battle was through and the rest of the Areaslians laid their arms down without issue.

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I heard from a buddy of mine that their commander was so thankful for our help, that he pledged fealty then and there. He said it was the whole ruling family, on their knees in front of Guyan, but I don’t know, I wasn’t there for that part.”

Jeremy grinned and handed the other man a flask from inside his coat. “Good story. My thanks.”

Carl wiped a hand across his mouth, now he was hungry and thirsty. He wondered if he shouldn’t just kill the Dog and deal with Jeremy. Once the Family man was dead, he could ask whatever questions he wanted.

From what he’d heard, he wasn’t convinced that Jeremy was Family after all. He hadn’t known about the battle with the Areaslians. Not that Carl knew anything about it either, but if Jeremy was Family, then maybe he should have known.

He was guessing, but he imagined that word would spread inside the Company. If it was true that the Areaslians had capitulated, it was a significant setback for the Resistance. The One had brought together many races beneath her rule. If the Family were able to co-opt their loyalties, it would be a great blow to Carl’s cause.

Jeremy took a swig from the canteen and grimaced, “There are no Bodin around here.”

“Gods be good.”

“But, we’ve got Creeling.”

“What!” the other man said, his voice too loud in the night. On his feet, his eyes jumped from shadow to shadow. Carl froze. He didn’t even breathe. His eyes slid over him, once, twice, before turning in the opposite direction.

Jeremy laughed, “Calm down. They don’t often like the mountains.”

“You’re sure? I heard a man talk about them once. He said they ate his entire flock-- cows, sheep, horses and all.”

“The stories are true enough, but they mostly live in a place called Dauphin. It is an island in the middle of a larger river, northwest of Delphi.”

“You’ve been there?” The Dog asked, taking a seat again.

Carl let out a slow breath, the handkerchief over his face masking the puff of warm air. As his heartbeat returned to normal, he told himself to release the handle of his knife.

Jeremy nodded.

“So you’ve dealt with the Creeling, then?”

Carl perked up. His woods didn’t have those monsters.

“I’ve had occasion to,” Jeremy agreed. “Those monsters are a bloody pain when they want to be.” Rubbing at his face, the smaller man stared at the flames. The Dog handed him the flask, but he didn’t look up.

“So, what happened?”

“It was years ago,” Jeremy said, his voice low and rough. “I was living in a town not far from the river Susa. It was a small fishing village, peaceful, you know the kind. Anyway, my guess is the heavy rains had forced the beasts off their island. The monsters followed the boats to town and killed most of the people. We were lucky and there were some Family in town. There wasn’t a round left between them when it was all over.”

“Monsters,” the other man commiserated. “Wish we could get rid of all of them.”

“People would like that.”

The Dog looked thoughtful, “Might be something I could bring up to the Manager.”

“They’d be smart to listen to you.”

Carl had heard enough. It was time. The men had settled in to sleep. The Dog had the first watch. They had built up the fire a bit. It was cold in the mountains and he supposed he couldn’t blame them. How could they know he was only feet away?

He touched the sheath at his side. In order to get this close, he’d left his pack, bow and sword in the woods. While he liked the reach his sword provided, he was good with a knife, too. Hunting gave him a lot of practice-- skinning, boar hunting, as well as handling some of the rougher sort that frequented the Inn.

Licking his lips, he eyed Jeremy’s prone body. The booze they were drinking made them groggy. The forest was quiet. During the day, the clouds had been heavy, grey clumps, but now, they eclipsed the moon and stars completely. The Dog sat beside the fire, staring out into the woods to the right of where Carl waited.

After tying a handkerchief about his nose and mouth, he began a series of calming breaths. Whenever he stalked a deer, he went through the same ritual. He needed to be relaxed, synchronized with his surroundings. The process was slow, so very slow. Any kind of rigid, awkward movement would give him away. If he made a mistake, he lost the deer. If he was seen tonight, he’d get a bullet in his gut.

The Dog had his pistol on his lap, the barrel shining in the firelight. It looked like double action revolver. Carl couldn’t tell for sure, but he didn’t think he’d dropped the hammer yet. Carefully, he took a step forward. His body low to the ground, his weight was balanced on his toes. No change from the Dog.

Carl exhaled, counting to a hundred and slowly turning to check Jeremy. The man was facing away from him. Even if he heard something, he’d have to turn before he reacted. Another step, his foot sliding an inch above the forest floor, his eyes glancing down to check where he placed it, avoiding anything that would make a sound.

Pause, breathe, he checked the man and counted to a hundred. Repeat. Soon the crackling fire was louder than the crackle of snow. Pause, breathe, he was within feet of the Dog. The man’s breath was fogging the night air, the sharp line of his jaw visible.

Carl pulled his knife from the sheath, its length shimmering.

He took the last step, his knife darting out to the man’s neck and sweeping back. The man went rigid, a grunt of surprise or pain escaping before his shoulders rolled forward with a dark sprinkle of liquid.

Carl took another step, his arm thrown out to catch his body as it fell. His eyes found Jeremy still sleeping. Carefully, he helped the dead man to the ground. The blood was already pooling beneath him. It smelled like iron spikes in Carl’s nose.

Quickly, he cleaned his dagger on the man’s coat, avoiding the shining buttons.

Jeremy still hadn’t moved. Sheathing the knife, he took the man’s gun from where it lay on the ground and cocked back the hammer.

The bald man moved faster than Carl expected. In less than a heartbeat, he was on his feet, short sword in hand. Jeremy’s face was twisted in confusion and anger, his scar turning purple in the low light. “What’re you doing?” he barked.

Carl kicked the man at his feet, “He was Family.”

Jeremy grunted, his eyes finding the revolver in Carl’s hand, “I see. What do you want?”

“Your name.”

The man’s thin shoulder’s squared, “What’s it to you?”

Carl stepped away from the corpse, closing the distance, “You rather I just shot you?”

“Of course, not.”

“So, answer the question.”

“I don’t want to tell you the wrong name.”

“Toss your sword here and the knife at your hip.”

The man did as he was told, the pieces of metal clanging as they fell.

“Sit,” Carl commanded, “hands behind your back.” Pulling off his bandana, he tied the man’s hands together and then sat in front of him.

“You like my scar?” Jeremy asked, voice thick with sarcasm.

“Last chance,” Carl explained. “Who are you and where are you from?”

The man shivered, “Jeremy. It doesn’t matter where I’m from, because it doesn’t exist anymore. It was east of here.”

When Carl nodded, the man asked, “You’re a Hunter?”

Carl sat down and studied the man’s mismatched eyes. They tracked him sullenly. “Jeremy?” Carl asked. “How’d you get that scar?”

“Creeling.”

“Ah.”

The man’s eyes refocused, “Who are you?”

“Are you Family?” Carl countered.

Jeremy shook his head, “No, that guy hired me to guide him. What’re you doing following us?”

Carl ignored the question, “Where were you headed?”

Silence.

“You know you’ll to have to tell me. I rather, for your sake, that it wasn’t painful.”

“Why do you care?” Jeremy asked, his small frame shrunken.

“I just do. Where were you leading him?”

“If I tell you, I’m dead.”

“If you don’t, you’re dead,” Carl corrected, leaning forward and pulling the man’s canteen from his side. Shaking it, he was happy to find it half full. He unscrewed the cap and sniffed the contents.

Whisky, and not a bad quality either. Taking a pull, he regarded his captive, “What’s your decision?”

Jeremy’s strange eyes shot to the other man’s corpse. “We were heading northwest to a set of buildings. They call it the Northeastern Corporate Headquarters.”

Carl nodded. The two men had been traveling in that direction. So far Jeremy was speaking the truth. Carl had never heard of a Family stronghold in the area. He’d never heard of anything with such an important sounding name. “Why did the Dog need to go there?”

“Can’t be sure.”

“What’s your best guess then?”

Jeremy smiled, his scar pulling the one side of his mouth higher than the other, “Now we’re guessing? Who are you, Hunter?”

“Well?”

The man met his eyes, his expression unreadable, “Why are you interested?”

“Not your business,” Carl said, he pushed his hood off his head and took another deep drink from the bottle. The whisky burned as it traveled down his throat, filling his belly with fire. “You have any food?”

“In my pack.”

Keeping one eye on his captive, he rooted through the man’s belongings. He had some money, quite a bit for a guide, some flint, rope, a needle and thread, along with some hard bread and dried meat. Carl took the rope first and secured Jeremy’s feet and hands, then he went back for the food.

Carl finished the rest of the food and then pulled the other man’s corpse into the woods. He didn’t want to sleep beside it. Inside the dead man’s backpack was more food and an entire box of rounds, expensive stuff for someone who needed a guide. There was also a list of names and numbers. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but Jamison might be able to figure it out.

Scratching at his bushy beard, he sighed. “Have you decided?”

“If I tell you, what are you going to do with me?”

“I’ll leave you here. The Family will kill you for telling me. If I were you, I would head far west or maybe north.”

The man nodded, his bald head reflecting the dying fire, “And you’ll tell me why you’re interested in the place?”

“Not part of the deal.”

“It is for me.”

Carl looked at him, weighing his options. The man was scared. He didn’t want to die, but he was also stubborn.

“Fine” he agreed, reluctantly.

“All right, then,” Jeremy murmured. “The best I can tell, they’re collecting women and children. I’m not sure for what. Most of them get sent down along the black road for sale in one of the markets, usually Orlenia. Whole bunches of people have been moving out to live and work along that pass. I’ve seen the girls, myself.”

“That’s why the Dog was checking his trap?”

Jeremy’s eyebrows climbed his face. “You’d been tracking us a while.”

“Answer the question.”

“Yeah, that’s what he was doing. His traps don’t kill, they just injure. He told me he sells them if he gets the chance. Sometimes, he just gets…got, deer and elk.”

“You said that most of the girls get sent south,” Carl asked, feeling the tension in his shoulders and neck. Anger flashed through him and he tried to squash it. Best thing he could do at this point would be to get as much information as he could from Jeremy.

The man nodded, his mismatched eyes watching Carl.

“So what happens to the rest of them?”

“I know you want an answer, but I don’t have one for you. I haven’t been in the building yet, haven’t even seen it. I don’t even have a guess, except that whatever it is, you won’t like it.”

Carl believed him. There wasn’t a reason to hold anything back, not at this point. Jeremy couldn’t go back to the Family. Not after losing the Dog and telling Carl as much as he had, especially if he was just a contractor. The Family would kill him. They’d just cut their losses and eliminate the liability. He’d have to run.

Out in the surrounding mountains, a wolf howled. The sound was lonely, echoing dramatically across the darkness, bouncing through the mountains and snowy blackness. Carl counted a few seconds and was rewarded with the answering calls of a pack north of his position. The wind was blowing in that direction. They probably smelled the the dead man.

“I told you my piece,” Jeremy whispered, his eyes on the forest.

“It will take them at least an hour to get here,” Carl replied.

Jeremy swallowed, “I told you everything I know.”

“I believe you.”

“Then let me go.”

Carl shook his head, his blond braid dropping over the shoulder of his jerkin. “I told you I would tell you why I wanted to know.”

“Well, let’s hear it then and then let me go. I don’t want to be around when the wolves arrive.”

“You don’t care?”

Jeremy pulled at his bonds. “Right now, I care about getting out of here.”

“I’m not leaving until morning,” Carl replied, clearing a space beside the fire and laying out the dead man’s blankets. Before returning to Jeremy, he pulled the dead man’s body further into the woods.

“What’re you doing?” his captive asked.“The blood will draw them here.”

“I need you to tell me where this facility is and I need exact details. This’ll give us a good opportunity to speak frankly with one another. I will make a map and then we can talk about leaving.”