Hunter's War (Legend of the Wild Hunter Book 4) (2 page)

“Master Folkstaff. What brings you out here?” she asked, getting to her feet.

A small white rodent climbed up her right arm and perched itself on her shoulder.

“Corporal Tullner, this is Kile Veller.”

~~~***~~~

2

She didn’t need Gara to tell her when the vir entered the forest, she heard them coming. They didn’t exactly move with any attempt at stealth, but even if they had, they still couldn’t hide their scent. Of course, she recognized Master Folkstaff, the smell of mushrooms and earth. He once tracked her halfway across the country, so she wouldn’t forget that odor anytime soon. There were days when the events of last summer felt as if they happened to somebody else in some other place at some other time. Then there were days she felt she was still on the run. The nights when she would wake in a cold sweat needing to get away. When the walls of the barracks closed in around her, like the small cell she was confined to. She tried to forget, but it wasn’t easy.

Why did she agree to come back to the Guild? For one brief moment, she was actually free of it all, but the moment passed too soon. Holding Rick’s hand when he took his last breath, and being unable to do anything to save him, was more than she could bear. That was nearly nine months ago and marked the beginning of the war for her.

The valrik finally crossed the western border after amassing an army for nearly a year. In less than a month, the Provinces of Denal, Fennel and Blackmoore fell to the Uhyre. Whatever their plans were, they seemed to be satisfied for the moment. They didn’t push their advantage, nor did they let up. They seem to delight in hitting and running away, starting small battles all up and down the western front. Whenever the King’s army gained the advantage, the enemy would fall back across the border only to strike out somewhere else. To Kile, it was almost as if they were stalling, trying to keep the King’s eyes toward the west. But it didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t as if any threat would come from the east. The Kingdom of Baala was a staunch ally to the realm.

What did she know about war anyway? None of it ever made sense. It was completely pointless. If she had known, what rejoining the Guild would have meant, she would have seized her new found freedom and made a run for it, but no, she had to be noble. Where did that get her? No sooner did the King declare a state of war than the Hunters were reassigned to the military. In short, she got drafted. She spent the next two months in basic training, learning to salute and march in formation. Then they were shipped out to base camps all along the front line, where most of them sat around doing nothing because the military didn’t trust them.

The sitting around wasn’t too bad; at least they were safe. It was the confinement, she couldn’t take. She was stuck in section F with no place to go, sleeping in the barracks, eating in the mess tent, always surrounded by the other Hunters. The noises and the smells were getting to be too much for her. At first, she would sneak away into the woods for the sake of her sanity, but when they stopped coming to look for her, she wondered why she kept going back.

Was that why Folkstaff was here? Was he coming to bring her back? Did she even want to go back?

Sniffing the air once again, she removed from her mind those smells she associated with Folkstaff, her old wilderness survival instructor, and instead, concentrated on the second smell, the young man who walked with him. She was learning to tell a lot from a smell, like the fact he was a young man, although, it wasn’t difficult to figure out. There were no female soldiers and only two female Hunters. And Erin Silvia was serving at the Guild headquarters back in Littenbeck. It stood to reason, the person traveling with Folkstaff would have to be a young man. His scent had the strange combination of vanilla, old parchment and a hint of steel.

She closed the book she was reading.

- Vir come.-

Vesper announced, jumping on her lap.

“Yes, I know, it’s alright,” she assured the yarrow, unfortunately it didn’t do much to alleviate her own worries. Folkstaff wouldn’t be on his way to see her if it wasn’t important.

When they finally came into view she reluctantly got to her feet. Vesper scurried up her arm and perched himself on her shoulder. His presence there was always reassuring, and she found it very calming.

“Master Folkstaff. What brings you out here?” she asked.

“Corporal Tullner, this is Kile Veller. Kile, this is Corporal Robert Tullner of Perha Squad.”

Kile examined the young Corporal. He didn’t look much like a soldier. He looked more like a librarian or possibly a teacher. He was tall, thin with short cropped blond hair. He had bright blue eyes, which were hidden behind a pair of glasses, and his uniform was spotless. She wondered if he had ever seen any real combat. He appeared to be a little wooden, with his back straight, chest out, stomach in. She thought that was only for basic training, she didn’t really think they kept that up out in the field.

She wasn’t sure how important his rank was, having never gotten them all sorted out in her head. Was she supposed to salute him, or wait for him to salute her, or was saluting even involved? The whole thing was just too confusing, so she simply waved.

“Pleased to meet ya,” she said.

“What? Um… yeah,” he stammered.

So, teacher was out. He couldn’t be a teacher if he couldn’t form cohesive sentences, which left librarian.

“You’re being assigned to Perha Squad, starting tomorrow,” Folkstaff announced.

“Who? Me? Are you serious?” she asked.

“Very. It appears Barshed has decided to send an advance team into the Denal province and since you have knowledge of the area, you are being assigned as their scout.”

“This is a joke, or a mistake,” she said.

“I’m afraid not,” Folkstaff replied, and pulled a tightly rolled parchment from his vest. He handed it to her.

The last time she accepted a parchment from the Guild, it was a bounty placed on her head. She hesitated before unrolling it and read the message several times to be sure she understood it.

“Now I know this is a joke,” She said, holding the parchment up.

“I assure you, it is no joke.”

“The same Guild who tried to have me executed for crimes I didn’t commit, now wants to promote me not one, but two levels.”

“That is correct. As of today, you are a Certified Level Three Hunter.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

“To the Guild, it does,” Folkstaff replied, and she was sure she saw the hint of a smile behind that thick beard. “As you no doubt recall from your days at the Academy, scouting for the military is an automatic class B script. The lowest level permitted to be assigned a class B script, is a Level Three. Therefore, you have to be promoted to a Level Three. Welcome to Perha Squad.”

“That’s ridiculous. What about Steele? He’s already a Level Three, and he knows the area as well as I do.”

“Steele already has his assignment. He is running messages to and from the front line. It’s better suited to his Edge, as this is to yours.”

“What about Marcus? He’s a Level Two.” she replied.

There was a momentary pause, followed by a look of confusion. His face told her all she needed to know before he even tried to explain.

“We thought about Marcus,” he said slowly, as if trying to remember. “But for some reason, when I spoke with him, it was decided it would be a bad idea.”

Marcus Taylor’s Edge was the ability to persuade people who he made eye contact with. Of course it was a bad idea, if Marcus wanted it to be a bad idea.

“If I see him again, I will kill him,” she replied.

“Then it’s settled. You will report to Perha Squad first thing tomorrow morning,” Folkstaff said.

She watched the young soldier follow the old Hunter back through the forest, before slumping down among the roots of the old willow tree. Well, she wanted to do something more than just sit around, but was this really what she had in mind? She was heading back into the Denal province, and to Coopervill. It’s been nearly a year since she was last there, that’s only if she didn’t count the overnight stay before she had to flee from the Hunters, and somehow, it didn’t really count.

Coopervill was always lingering in the back of her mind, ever since they received news of its fall. It never stood a chance against the Uhyre. Why it was attacked in the first place, nobody knew. It was only a simple mining town after all, but for a brief period time, it was her home. She knew people back there, people she actually cared about, but no news came out of the Denal province since that day.

Getting back to her feet, she collected what little belongings she had. Guild Master Latherby once described Hunters as vagabonds, carrying everything they owned on their backs. They never settled down, nor do they call any one place home for very long. They are constantly on the move, going where they are sent.

He once asked her a very simple question. What are the four things every Hunter needs? They need a good heart, a good head on their shoulders, a good horse, and a good weapon, which was pretty much all she had left these days.

- It’s about time. Does this mean we are finally going?-

Grim asked in his unapologetic tone.

“That depends on what you mean by going,” she said as she tied the pack to his harness.

- Going, as in leaving this dismal place behind for something more civil.-

“Civil? Looks who’s talking. Like you’ve ever been civil.”

- Oh, and I assume you have.-

“More so than you.”

- Please.-

“Well, I don’t know about civil, but we should get back to camp. Daniel will never forgive me if I don’t tell him what’s happening,” she said, pulling herself onto his back.

Grim didn’t need her to tell him where to go, and it didn’t take them long before they were within sight of camp. It was still the crowded, noisy place filled with the odd smells she left. Daniel was waiting for her on the edge of the paddock and waved to her when she approached.

- Oh, isn’t this sweet.-

Grim snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

- Young love-

“What? Oh please, don’t even go there. One more remark like that, and I’ll ship you back to the north lands myself.”

“Are you two having an argument again?” Daniel asked when he came beside her.

He was one of the few people who truly knew the uniqueness of her Edge.

“It’s nothing,” she assured him.

“I don’t know. You look a little flushed.”

“I said it’s nothing. What are you doing out here anyway? Shouldn’t you be back in the med-tent plying your trade?”

“That’s a little difficult to do when nobody needs a healer. You don’t get hurt if you don’t fight. Besides, I saw Folkstaff return with that corporal, and figured you wouldn’t be far behind,” Daniel said, helping her down from the pony. “So, what’s wrong? What did he want to see you about?”

“Nothing important. I’ve just been assigned to some squad as a scout.”

“A scout, you can’t be a scout, you’re not qualified.”

“Oh yeah, I also got promoted.”

~~~***~~~

3

Kile yawned as she rode Grim into the heart of Base Camp Reilly. One night in section F and she was more tired than when she went to bed. She would have been better off had she spent her last night in the forest. At least then, she would have benefited from a good night’s sleep. Spending the night in the barracks only reminded her why she preferred to be alone. Her heightened senses, which were somehow connected to her Edge, were becoming harder to control, not that she had much control over them in the first place. They usually kicked in whenever they felt like it and shut off at the most inopportune times. Now, they seemed to be stuck in the on position. Noises seemed louder, her vision was sharper, even at night, but it was the smells which were the problem. Stuck in section F, with forty or fifty men and no decent bathing facilities, was more than she could stomach.

She slowed Grim down when they crossed the compound so she could get a better idea of where she was. The differences between the base camp and section F were quite staggering. There were men, in full uniforms, standing at attention while drill teams moved around the field in perfect little squares. If this was how they were going to fight the Uhyre, they were definitely in over their heads. It was no wonder the valrik controlled the battlefield and dictated the pace of the war.

- Tin soldiers off to war, and the enemy quakes… with laughter.-

Grim scoffed.

“They’re doing their best,” Kile replied, but she had to wonder if it was going to be enough. She had seen the size of the valrik forces, and she was beginning to doubt whether the vir could weather this storm.

“I think we should be looking for Perha Squad,” she said, pulling out her orders.

She was supposed to report to a Sergeant Wargner before noon, and the sun was already climbing the eastern sky. The problem was, the orders didn’t give her detailed instructions on where to go. They simply stated she was to report to section B, subsection three. But all she saw was a vast sea of tents, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she was beginning to attract attention. A few of the soldiers noticed her and were watching her carefully. It was if they had never seen a young woman on a large black mountain pony before, but then again, they probably hadn’t.

Holding the orders up, she pretended to read them, but in reality, she was sniffing the air. It took her a while to sort through the numerous odors of the surrounding area. They didn’t smell any better here than back in section F. One by one, she removed the smells until she found the one she needed. The scent of parchment, vanilla and just a hint of steel.

“That way Grim,” she said, guiding the pony toward a section of the camp, which looked no different from any other section. It was a sea of canvas and they passed rows and rows of tents all neatly laid out, one behind the other, in a tidy little grid. She wondered if there was an officer with a measuring stick who made sure all the tents were lined up.