He merged himself with the shadows by the manor's walls as the sounds of the guard moving towards his position drew nearer. This was this best route in he had found as it was along one guards walking post. He blew his breath out slowly and easily, pushing all thought out of his mind, becoming one with his surroundings. If he had followed the technique correctly the guard would not notice him as he passed by. The flickering torchlight approaching caused the shadows around him to dance madly as he concentrated on not being there. He froze in place behind a water barrel, waiting, and risking no movement that might betray his presence, his breath held to eliminate any possible source of sound.
Slowly the guard walked his post within the courtyard, glancing casually around, and not really paying attention to details. The torch was held aloft with one hand and sword on his hip bounced with his steps, the guard moved with little worry and plenty of inattention on his face. Things were quiet; the only sound came from him and the sounds of the horses in the stables. The twirled keys clinked rhythmically in his other hand. The guard moved to within two feet of him, but no movement or sound or thought was there to betray his presence. The daydreaming guard turned and walked the other way unaware of the soundless, deadly watcher.
Once he knew it was safe as the guard moved out of sight he let his breath out slowly and moved from his position next to the barrel towards the wall. His route to the upper floors was nicely in shadow on this barely moonlit night. He only had to reach a beam about ten feet above him for him to have access to the rest of the manor building. It was easily defensible during the day, but at night it offered no protection. This flaw in the manor's design would let him reach his target easily.
The thin sliver of the Rogues Moon hung in the sky as he used the corner to help him run up the wall to the bracing beam that was his chosen path. The section of wood was only a hand and a half wide but it gave him plenty of space to prepare for his climb. The slice of the moon was plenty of light for him to see by, since he was long accustomed to working in the dark. Once off the ground and perched on the beam he merged again with the shadows and listened intently for any sign he that had been detected. The rhythmic sound of the guard's keys still sounded. No change at all. And there was no movement on the palisades, which had a limited view of his perch.
He smirked a little under the cloth masking his face. He was glad that this target's guards were rather worthless. Their inattention would make his job tonight all the easier. Unless something unexpected happened while he was inside the manor, getting out of here would be as easy as getting in had been. He pulled on the climbing claws, which would help him get a good hold on the groves between stones. After he pulled his way up to the fourth floor, handhold by handhold, he worked at a window latch that would give him access to his targets study with a slim piece of metal made just for that purpose. As the latch tripped he slid the window upwards quietly, ears intent to any betrayal of sound. He was inside the room swift as the night's wind.
He paused by the window a moment to let his eyes adjust to the deeper darkness of the room. If his information was correct this room was the office of his target, just off the target's sleeping chamber. This would also help him, as he did want to get more information about his targets involvement in the slave trade that was running along the Lake Evendium shores. That information could be turned over to the King's guards and they and the Heralds could deal with that. But tonight there was other business at hand.
He scanned the room as dark, shadowy shapes little by little revealed themselves to be various pieces of furniture. He picked out the two chairs easily. The couch was a bit harder to determine. There was a fairly large desk against the inside wall. There was also a small cabinet or tables that had glasses and bottles on it. The light glinted off of them as he moved carefully to the desk.
Letters, both to be sent and already read made their way into his black satchel slung across his shoulders. He pulled out and looked under the drawers of the desk, and that was where he found the two leather bound ledgers, in an empty space that held them nicely. Those would help with the issue that had brought him on this hunt, he was quite sure, if they were what he thought they were. The Duke had been involved in something dirty for years, yet there was never anything to tie him to anything, but he hoped that those hidden ledgers showed the what's and where's and who's. Again the King's men could take care of that side of this messy business; he had gotten all the proof he needed in order to fulfill his contract. Satisfied with his search of the desk he replaced the drawers and crept towards the only door in the room.
The door into the Duke's bedchambers was unlocked. The oil he had just used on the door hinges to ensure their silent movement helped it swing slowly in towards him. The dark shape of the bed was fairly visible in the faint light of the Rogue's Moon through a window on a far wall as were the other pieces of furniture. He would finish this part of his business quickly as he had spent a sufficient amount time in the office looting paperwork. There was no need to linger in here too much. His soft boot clad feet were silent on the rug covered wooden floor as he crossed, to wait crouched beside the four-poster bed. Their drapes had been pulled, so he would discover if the Duke was even asleep in there as soon as he opened them. As far as he knew the Duke was home right now and should be here.
With great care he slid the long curtains to the side to let himself get to his feet next to the bed. He looked over the two sleeping figures nestled in the thick feather comforter.
The Duke's corpulent body lay bloated next to the thin, fragile features of his new, young bride. He had found out that she had been given as a gift of friendship from another courtier that had sought an alliance with him. She did not look as if she were sleeping as heavily or as peacefully as the Duke was, but her breathing was steady and deep. He figured she was suffering from bad dreams, as her face did not seem to be restful. As long as she did not awaken and disturb him in his work, she was quite safe from him.
The Duke slept open mouthed, his snores filled the air softly. That would make this part of the job even easier. He had feared that the Duke didn't snore at all, but then again most heavyset men did. His chosen weapon for this nights work was a vial he had brought with him, held secure in his belt. It slipped free easily and he shook the viscous liquid to coat the stopper thickly. He moved himself into position over the Duke's face unhurriedly; his hand and the vial casting faint shadows across the man's round face. The stopper pulled free easily and he dripped four fat drops into the Duke's throat. That was twice what was normally needed, but his was a cautious nature and business, and the Duke was a large man.
He waited there, by the bed, listening to the breathing of the Duke after he had returned the vial to its carrying pouch in his belt. He really did not desire to use a knife for this if he could help it at all. He wanted to make this job as untraceable as possible and unless the Duke had worked to make himself immune to this particular poison it would be. After half a candle mark the breathing was taking on the right type of gasping, rasping strain that would help stop the heart. Then with a twitch of the body and a long, burbling sigh the Duke died.
He reached out and laid his fingers on the Duke's neck, to check to see if the heart still beat. Again habit born out of caution. There was no movement under his finger, no pulsing of life threaded through the veins. There was also no rise and fall of the Duke's chest any more. The man was quite dead. Satisfied, he headed back out the way he had come in.
Now was the equally important task of leaving. He made sure that the latch would retrip when he reclosed the window. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard it slide back into place. That would help hide his night's work as long as possible. A Healer investigating the death might catch the poison, or might not. It was not the easiest poison to catch traces of, but it could happen. He wanted to buy as much lead-time as possible, if that were the case. With at least a day or two of a head start there would be no way to stumble on him. He made his way down the wall with as much vigilance as he had climbed. Now was definitely not the time to make stupid mistakes. As he worked his way carefully out of the manor's complex and the last of its guards were bypassed he added the Duke to his personal tally.
That had just been his fifty-third completed Hunt since he had begun his career seven years ago, at the tender age of fourteen. One more assassination completed, another death for him to pray for. This had also been his lowest paying job. The boy who had found his contact had managed to only get ten copper pieces together to pay him his fee. That was all. But he had felt the reason behind this particular hunt had been sufficient to do the job for that paltry fee. Vengeance against the leader of the slavers that had taken the boy's family, killed his friends and hounded the coast was a great reason for a hunt. Slavers disgusted him, and to think that one of the upper nobility of Valdemar was sponsoring those scum still disgusted him. But those balances were evened now.
Lord Valshay Danathies slung his satchel of working tools into his horse's saddlebags. He quickly changed out of his black and gray mottled working outfit and back into his riding clothes and cloak. After he stowed the tools of his hunt he climbed on to his horse carefully and headed out of the Duke's lands at a sedate pace. He was not really a skilled horseman and riding did make him a bit nervous. Even with a clean, untraceable job, it was always best to be candlemarks down the road before anyone noticed his handy work. He doubted that anyone in the Duke's employ had spotted him in his night's work, as they were definitely not good examples of attentive sentries, but better safe than sorry. Without even a backwards glance of concern at the distant mansion he rode off towards the Karse border and home.
*****
The ledgers had indeed been filled with information on the illicit businesses of the Duke. Once he had been quite sure of that Valshay had gifted them anonymously to the King's Guards, along with the letters, by dumping them on the step of one of the guard buildings in a village he had passed through. Some of the letters had also dealt with Lendyl's side business. Only one of the letters he had kept. It had interested him.
Valshay had never really been very into politics or the court scene at the capitol of Haven, but this letter was couched in such roundabout terms that it smelled like a plot to him. It could give him another excuse to head back to the capitol, as he really did not get a chance to see much the last time he had been there. He could buy his grandmother something there. She had been longing for some good chirra wool items and he was sure his mother would take advantage of the trip as well.
But first when he got home he would go over what he had done on his Hunt with his grandfather for critique. The old man's advice and insight always helped him improve in his art as the families Huntsman. After all, this was an excellent family business that went back more generations than he ever managed to remember.
The curve of the hills, the thicker underbrush and trees told him that he was almost to his own family's manor house. A little more towards the Rethwellen border than most of the Holderkin that filled the area, his family had never the less adopted much of the outside appearance of their neighbors. The better to blend in and not be noticed was the plan. That was almost a family motto. But sadly in this case they still stood out, as they shared little else with their neighbors. The Holderkin religion and customs struck the Danathies family as rather abusive. And they had always been quite sure that their own families' history, religion and customs would send their neighbors into apoplectic fits.
As he spied the manor's stout walls through the trees, he noted the flag marking his spotting. That was another one of the families games that he never liked to play any more. Something about sneaking into your own house did not sit too well with him at this point. He had loved to play that game as a child but now, he would rather just get home and deal with the affairs of running the manor.
He was not surprised when his younger brother came up from behind him on foot as he neared the gate. He had been expecting it as he had caught the faint sounds of the boy moving through the underbrush to his left. His brother had been nearly silent. Valshay would not have heard him if he had not been expecting it. "Hello Kerioth. You still make too much noise."
"Hello Val. Welcome home and I do not." Kerioth was a younger version of him. Though he was five years younger Kerioth had the same shoulder length, wavy black hair framing the narrow face and high cheekbones, the same ready smile under the same pale, icy blue eyes that were almost hypnotic. Eyes that were the mark of their family. They both had the lithe, well-developed form of either a dancer or a festival acrobat, with their swarthy complexions marking them as quite different from their neighbors, with their pale skin. Their voices even held the same rich timbre. The only real dissimilarity was that Valshay had filled out to be more muscular after stating to work, his shoulders broadening some. But in five years time even that might change. And Kerioth was still hoping to grow facial hair, as opposed to his own well-groomed goatee with a thin strip of beard along his jaw line. "You just want something to complain about and feel superior about."
Valshay laughed at that. "I hardly need that Keri. You give me so much to feel superior about without having to do anything special. Grandfather still hasn't let you take a job. I've got you beat by at least a year or two and who knows how much more. You'll be the only member of the family to be refused a Hunt in a hundred years."
"Yeah, right! But if I remember correctly Val, you almost botched that first job. I intend to start my busy career by not screwing up. Besides, Gramps let me know that I get my first hunt later this year." Kerioth held himself tall at that. The first Hunt was always a moment of great pride.
Their conversation took them into the courtyard where a good portion of the family was waiting. His mother was there looking relieved as she did every time he returned. She was still fairly attractive, solidly built and eyes that turned heads still despite the gray that gathered around her temples and salted her dark hair. Her brown eyes joined her smile of greeting. She had gotten so much more worrisome after his father had vanished on a hunt in Rethwellan a little over seven years ago. Now she was concerned about him every time he went out.
His grandmother was there as well, smiling contentedly as she always had. She was dressed in her usual gray dress with a colorful shawl draped over her shoulders. Her hair was white but she still stood straight and walked without assistance.
A couple of the servants waited to take his horse and had the water and towel ready for him to wash the dust of the road off. He dismounted gratefully, dipped his hands in the water and washed both his hands and face. After he dried them on the towel he faced his mother with a bright smile.
"Welcome home Valshay. You were missed. I pray the trail doesn't carry you away again, until we have had some time to hear all of your adventures." She held open her arms to him.
Valshay went into the hug, squeezing her tenderly and kissing her cheek. "Even if the trail so bids, I will not leave until then."
He turned and hugged his grandmother as well, who returned it strongly. He really felt it along his ribs. Thankfully he was no longer worried about her breaking him. "You still look well, boy."
"Yes Grandmother I am. The trail was gentle to me, this time."
The families' traditions of greetings out of the way they walked into the manor with Valshay between the ladies. "Where are the girls? I thought they would be here?"
Grandmother chuckled as his mother tsked. "Someone put an idea in their heads for them to go on Hunt for husbands. So they took off to find Love."
Val laughed at that. He could very easily see the two of them riding around, stalking men they thought were attractive. "Who is responsible for that?"
"Your brother. He said the only way they two of them were ever going to get married was if they Hunted husbands. That set them off. They convinced your Grandfather of it and off they went. We have not heard from either of them in two weeks." His mother seemed fairly scandalized by the whole procedure.
As his laughter died down Valshay managed to free himself of his family and headed off quickly to his room to change before the evening meal. He gathered that his mother had fixed some of his favorites to welcome him back. She always did that after he returned from a hunt. And he always appreciated that.
After he made it up to his room he stored his gear from the hunt in the closet he kept his gear in and changed into more comfortable clothes. The baggy pants and lightweight long tunic fit that bill exactly. The letter from the Duke he left on his desk to sort through later. After eating what he could on the road for five weeks he was looking forward to the lamb and wild rice that he was sure awaited him. It would be a nice change from inn fare. He got tired of meat filled pastries and such heavy meals, like stews. He rather preferred the lighter meals of his family.
As he left his room on the third floor on the manor he turned and headed through the manor towards his grandfathers office, which was just off of the great hall. That would be where he would tell the old man about everything, and his performance would be critiqued. The servants were doing the final setting up for the evening meal as he made his way through the long tables, working to stay out of their was as they bustled about. When he had been seven he had knocked over one of them as they had rushed about carrying the wooden plates out to set the tables. That had earned him a week of setting tables for his clumsiness and interference. It was hard work.
Valshay made his way out of the hall and into that led to the office. He stood before the dark wooden door a moment. He had memories of standing before this door for both punishment and praise. The old man doled out both from his office, sharing the praise with others after first done in private. Even now the old man still ran the manor, family businesses and took care of their tenants from this office. Their section of land did very well under his stewardship. Val knocked three times, evenly.
"Come in!" He heard his grandfather's strong voice call out.
He walked into the office and looked over everything. The family crest of black and silver crossed blades, points down hung over the mantle to the small fireplace. The carpet was looking a little more threadbare, but the intricate designs of reds and blues were still visible. The rest of the furniture was also worn and faded with the passage of years, but it was still serviceable and comfortable. The bookshelf on the far wall was filled with volumes on various subjects and maps of Valdemar, Karse, Hardorn and Rethwellan decorated another wall as well as an extremely detailed map of their lands. A window looked in on the room from between the wooden shutters, letting in plenty of light.
The old man was seated at his desk going over something. He looked up as Valshay walked in with the same pale blue eyes, but from under short gray hair, his face lined with deep wrinkles. He still had the strong shoulders that had worked hard during his life, and continued to do so. "You're not dead this time, boy? Good. How did everything go?"
Valshay pulled up a chair and sat down. Slowly, so no detail would slip by he related the events of the last five weeks, which led to his hunting the Duke. He covered the hunting down of information that led him to the Duke, including the killing of the particular group of slavers who had taken his clients parents and the entry and exit of the manor. The old man listened closely and asked questions to clarify the details. He rolled out the information totally, knowing that the old man would want every last facet he could remember. Finally after about a quarter of a candlemark he finished.
"A good hunt Valshay. However, I am troubled about how fast you were able to establish the connections between the slavers and the Duke. But you are right; torture will make someone talk quickly, especially after you killed the other when he refused talk. I personally would have used a messier technique to leave a louder message to any others, but the choice of poison was a good move. If you did it right no one would know you had hunted him. A good hunt, very clean."
"Thank you Grandfather. I tried my best."
"As well as you should. Now, as to this letter you mentioned, given what you have told me I do think you need to check it out. I will want to see it my self tomorrow and we will then plan from there. But this does sound like the kind of thing Shadowstalker pledged us to watch for when he helped us settle here. We helped him and he helped us get a home in safety. We owe him for that still. So we will go over it some more tomorrow. Now let's go eat. Your mother had been fussing all day over this meal."
The two of them walked out into the Great hall where everybody had gathered for the evening meal. The old man and Valshay walked to the head table, to take their places. Once grandfather was seated and broke the first piece of bread the meal commenced. The lamb and wild rice was steaming on the platters before them, flat bread on the side with mugs of rich mint tea to slake their thirst. Lightly spiced vegetables lay on other platters. Valshay smiled. It was good to be home.
*****
Herald Gerard Ashkevron pulled himself off his Companion Faris. The message had reached him from the King's Own. The Herald who was looking into things here had been unable to figure things out so the call had gone out for Gerard. Solving things was almost his Herald talent.
Gerard was quite tall, over six and a half feet. He kept his black hair cut somewhat short, as was the current style. His blue eyes looked tired as he stood by Faris. It had been a long hard ride from Haven. And now he had to figure out what had happened to one of the council members. The message had been brief. Simply that the Duke was dead and things did not seem to make sense. So the King had sent Gerard to come out here by Lake Evendium and find out what had really happened to the Duke. He was not pleased about that, but it was his job.
The Herald who was ridding this circuit was waiting for him along with her intern. The young Herald came forward and took Faris. The older waved him forward. "Herald Gerard, thank you for coming out here. I am Herald Serion. I have some food and drink waiting for you. Jerath will take care of your Companion."
A weak smile was his only response as he entered the Duke's manor. The other Herald continued her brief of things. "The first clue about this was the poison use. The Healer figured out that in the morning when he had been discovered. That is when they sent riders to find Jerath and I, along our route. When we had gotten here everything was rather confused. I looked over things and could not figure out how this could have happened. I questioned the wife and the door guards under truth spell but I got nothing useful out of them. So that is when I asked for you. This is after all your bailiwick."
Gerard nodded and took the goblet of watered wine from the table when they reached the sitting room just inside the entrance. The liquid was cool, easing his thirst and the alcohol helping his muscles relax after the ride. He hated long rides. Even being on Faris was not enough to make things easier. That reminded him, ::How are you doing dear heart?::
::Tired but Jerath here is taking care of me. Celion and Tyrie are catching me up on everything. This does not sound good so far Gerard.:: The voice was comforting in his mind, filled with love and concern.
"Is anything missing?" Gerard asked as he took a seat. It was well padded and comfortable. His body welcomed it.
"Not that his wife could tell. In fact, if it had not been for the Healer catching the trace of the poison the first thought was that he had died naturally." She joined him sitting. She was not pretty, but rugged. Serion's blond hair was short and pushed back from her face. Her face was lined from the weather and a short scar on her left cheek. Gerard thought it was probably from a knife. She looked strong and able to handle herself quite well in any situation.
"Let me look over the room. I'll see if there is any thing that can give us an idea as to what happened. Let me get a quick bite and then we can get started." Gerard turned his attention to his food and drink. He devoured it, eager to get started so he could get home.
Serion led him upstairs to the bedroom. The door to the room was a thick, black walnut door with iron bands and hinges. They squeaked slightly and had slight rust marks. The room seemed undisturbed, as he looked it over. The window to the room was closed, with the latch thrown. It stuck a little as he tried to open it. Based off of the noise it made, he discounted that as the route in.
The study was just off of the bedroom. The door was identical in construction to the door to the bedroom. As it opened he noticed that it opened quietly. He bent down and examined the hinges, which sat on the inside of the study. The hinges were slick with oil. There was even signs of oil on the floor under the hinges.
The lock to the door seemed undisturbed. There were no scratches on the surface. The door might have been unlocked. If the Duke was used to working in here, he thought, he might not even lock it unless he were leaving. He looked around the room as he tried to put the pieces together.
He moved to the window. He could see scratches on the surface of the latch and a few nicks in the wood of the pane. There also seemed to be holes in the surface of the outer ledge. He threw the latch and slid the window up. It moved easily. There were indeed holes in the ledge, three of them, evenly spaced.
Gerard stuck his head out the window and looked down at the wall. It would be a difficult climb, but he figured it could be done. As he looked down he noticed what could be dirt on a small piece of interior beam near the bottom of the wall.
So, the assassin climbed the wall, opened the window and crept into the bedroom to kill the Duke. But why? He shut the window and sat on the couch that rested under it. Nothing came to mind. Duke Lendyl had been good for the people of this region. He personally led strikes against the slavers that raided their shores. So why would someone do this?
The sun was starting to set when Serion came back in to check on him, carrying a bundle. "Are you alright? You have been here for several candlemarks?"
Gerard waved a hand distractedly. "I'm fine. The assassin came up the wall, through this window and then into the bedroom. I figured that out and now I am trying to figure out why?"
"Maybe these will help? A guardsman a few days from here found these journals on his desk one morning, two days after the Duke's death. He had them brought here. They arrived since you were up here."
The bundle contained two journals bound in fine quality leather. He opened one and began to read. As he did his blood began to run cold. These did indeed give him a reason. He had to get a hold of Darius, the King's Own as soon as he could. This was not good, not good at all.
*****
Morning found Valshay again with his Grandfather in the office. This time the letter was with him. Grandfather had handed it back to him after he had read it silently a few times. The old man tapped his pursed lips in concentration as his eyes scanned the maps on the wall. Valshay kept quiet, knowing that the old man was turning things over in his head and would be done when he was ready. Finally he broke the silence of his thoughts. "You are right. This is important. Shadowstalker had this kind of thing in mind when he had asked us to keep an eye out on things while we were here. This letter is worded innocently enough, but… to have been found with that slaver? It could be the beginnings of a conspiracy against the King or it could be nothing at all. On it's own it shows nothing; so going to the King's men would not be much help. And that is despite the questions that would arise from our ownership of this letter. No, I think you are right. You need to hunt this and see what it turns up. Who knows, it might just flush some game."
"If that is what I should do than I need to get going, tomorrow or the next day to get some lead time in Haven before the date. My last time there was just over a year ago, for that hunt that took me to the palace. It's a different area of the city. Different type of target, so time on the ground before the hunt would be a good idea. I don't have any background information here, so I need to build that as well. I would like a possible why before I go in, to know how serious this is." Valshay didn't want to go, but he did feel a responsibility in this. If it did turn out to be a conspiracy then his family owed it to Shadowstalker to discover and expose it.
"A good point. If you left tomorrow you would have about a week in Haven to get a lay of the land before the Hunt. Not bad. Not bad at all. The question would be how would you go, as yourself or as someone else?" Grandfather replied.
"As myself I think. I can get a place to stay in the noble section of the city and enter into some contacts before the Hunt. Gather as much information as I can before this happens. The court should have plenty of gossip that would be helpful in this. If they are the source then they should have the information I need." Valshay reasoned out.
The old man nodded. "Sound plan. I would say a minimum of weapons, to keep you in the information-gathering mode. If this is a conspiracy against King and country than a firmer hand will be needed to ferret out all the roots and branches of it. At that point the King's men and the Heralds would be your most important allies, even at the cost of our secrets. But until you have enough to give them, get what you can of this."
"Yes Grandfather. I will."
"Good. I'll hold on to the letter. That way it cannot be a way to catch you. Now spend time with the family, since you are heading out again on the morrow. Best if it were done quickly." With that Valshay was dismissed to spend time with his family. His mother would be in her solar at this point, doing needlework or something else with her ladies. Kerioth would be hard at work in training, as he had been until his first hunt. After that, training was your responsibility. He decided to go see his mother first, as she would be the most worried about this new trip.
She had been a daughter of one of the nearby Holderkin families who had caught his fathers eye years past at one of the fairs. Even with the plain, drab clothes the Holderfolk wore he could see how beautiful she was. How Grandfather had managed to get her family to part with her to marry him was still a family mystery. She had only been told that she was going to marry and didn't know to whom until the ceremony.
She had been stunned when she entered the household. She had a great deal more freedom than she had ever had and she was shocked indeed when she was told about the families' real source of income. They were all right at farming and sheep breeding but their skills definitely came from something else.
Now, some twenty-five years later she could barely stand to visit her own relatives, who had all but disowned her as she changed to fit her household. They all thought her uppity and beyond her place as a mere woman. And she could barely stand their ideas. So Valshay didn't really know his Aunts and Uncles at all. To a very large degree the family remained outcasts to their Holderfolk neighbors. This had upset his mother for a while but she had gotten over it as the years past.
Valshay knocked on the open door to the solar politely. His mother and her serving ladies all looked up at the sound that had broken their train of thoughts. His mother smiled brightly at him, "Please come in Val. To what do I owe this visit? You very rarely come to see me when the ladies and I are busy with our needlework."
"True, but after talking things over with Grandfather I am heading off to Haven for a while. I wondered if there was anything I could get for you while I am there?" He smiled as he spoke, trying to keep the tone light. He could tell that she had figured he was back out on a hunt by the tightening of her brown eyes. But she kept any other sign off of her face. The families true business was kept only within the family.
"I am sure we could think of something, can't we ladies. Would you like us to make a list to give to you tomorrow when you leave?"
"That would be perfect mother. Now, please tell me everything that happened since I left. I am sure there is some great gossip that I missed out on." Valshay sat on one of the cushions on the floor and let his mother and the ladies tell him of all the goings on that had occurred since he had gone out on hunt. The gossip filled the air as the ladies gabbed and continued to do their needlework. His mother kept looking at him with worry in her eyes and he tried silently to soothe her. It did not seem to work that well.
After a candlemark, when they had started going over some of the tales again Valshay took his leave. He headed down stairs to find Kerioth. At this time of day Keri was probably with the Weaponsmaster in the training hall. He wound his way through the corridors of the manor till he came to the interior entrance to the salle.
The door was unlocked, as he had hoped it would be, meaning they weren't working on anything too specifically linked to their family business. He heard the sound of steel on steel as he bowed himself across the threshold. Out in the middle of the sawdust floor Kerioth and the grizzled well muscled Weaponsmaster were busy fighting with the light two-handed blades that had traveled to Valdemar with their family.
The steel rang loudly as they crossed blades again and again trying to find an opening to score a hit. Valshay noticed the Weaponsmaster opening up along his right side some. Kerioth noticed it as well and turned his attack to exploit that opening. Valshay shook his head in sympathy as the Weaponsmaster danced away from the attack and rested his blade across the back of Kerioth's neck.
Kerioth dropped his head and blade in acknowledgement of the hit. The Weaponsmaster nodded in acceptance and turned to Valshay. "So Val, what was your take on that move?"
Kerioth finally noticed his older brother standing at the edge of the circle. "Well, sir, the opening looked a bit too clean for it to be a real opening. Besides it was on your right side. That is your strong side so it is doubtful that you would be so openly careless there. I would have thought more to the left or down, for a true opening. You walked right into that one Keri."
"I know. I know. It was the only opening I saw so I took a chance." Keri rubbed his neck with one hand. "I was hoping it wasn't a trap."
"Kerioth, if you are on Hunt, then the success of your mission comes first. I know you could have kicked or tripped me several times. What about kicking up some of the sawdust towards my eyes? You had some options, but you just got fixated on the weapon instead of the fight. You need to integrate your body to your weapons more. Work on that. Care for a turn, Val?" The Weaponsmaster arched an eyebrow inquiringly. His cool green eyes showed some mischief in them.
Valshay spotted that and declined politely. "Actually, no. I go out on another hunt tomorrow and I don't want to be too sore for that. What new trick have you got this time?"
"A couple of new throws and a nice weapons disarm. Sure you don't want to have a go before you leave?"
"When I come back, definitely. But not right now. I just wanted to see Keri for a bit before I packed. If he can be spared that is?" Valshay looked over at his brother who looked hopeful.
"Certainly. He can owe me for tomorrow. Take care on your hunt. You are after the most dangerous game, as always. Stay on your toes." The Weaponsmaster chided.
"Yes, sir. I always am. Unlike some, I paid attention to my lessons." Kerioth punched for his shoulder at that comment. Valshay spun around his brother in a fashion similar to the Weaponsmaster. "See?"
Kerioth snorted in disgust as the Weaponsmaster started laughing. Kerioth stored his gear, pulled off his sweaty padded gambeson and joined Valshay by the door. "Oaf! What was that for?"
"You were the one who gave away the move enough for me to get you. Why am I the jerk for your mistake?" Valshay looked over at his younger brother as he led him through the manor towards the kitchen.
"You're the oaf Val, for using the same move he did. Oaf!" Kerioth punched his brother in the shoulder over this.
Valshay let that punch connect with his arm. It was a solid hit, but not a lot of force in it. "Come on Keri. I'm going to get us a pitcher of tea and we can talk in the garden."
"Talk about what Val?" Kerioth's eyebrows rose at the statement.
"Things. Just wait till we get to the garden." Valshay pulled ahead and waved Kerioth towards the garden while he went into the kitchen. Cook was busy bustling about getting things ready for the evening meal and finishing up the midday meal. She turned and looked at Val as he entered.
"And what do you want?" she accused in mock fierceness as she readied the platters and bowls with lunch piled on them.
"Just a loaf, some cheese and a pitcher of tea. I don't want anything more than that for lunch. Really." The cook did not look like she believed him any more now than she did when he was nine.
After a moment of looking him in the eye warily, she begrudgingly nodded her head slightly. She gestured and one of the cook's helpers quickly put together the quick lunch for Valshay. Once it was handed to him her bowed to her with a great flourish and left the room.
Kerioth had already found a place under the pear tree, which was nicely in both shade and breeze. He glanced up as Valshay's sandals crunched on the gravel of the paths that wound through the garden. Valshay held up his loot as his brother watched him approach. Kerioth nodded appreciatively.
"So what did you want to talk about?" asked Kerioth, as he tore a hunk of bread from the still warm loaf.
"Mostly I wanted to tell you a little about this hunt I'm going on in the morning." Valshay started.
"What's to know? You go out, make the kill and come home." Kerioth looked confused at Valshay.
"Grandfather has told you about the debt we owe to Shadowstalker, correct?" asked Valshay carefully.
"Yes. How he got our help in one of his hunts in Karse, as we were trying to get through that country. After we helped him, he and his white Lady got us settled here. We owe him for that and his silence when we arrived. So?"
"This mission is for the debt. That is what will make it difficult. There may be a plot against the king brewing. I am going to Haven to hunt information. If I don't come back, that makes you the families Huntsman as tradition gives the title along the male line. I needed you to understand that before I left." Valshay looked into Kerioth's eyes as he spoke, trying to drive home the seriousness of what he was talking about.
"You're not joking, are you? You are going to really, really put your life on the line for this?! Why? That debt is over three hundred years old!" Kerioth looked affronted at the thought of the debt.
"It's about honor, Keri. Our family's honor. We have been huntsmen for over two thousand years. We have always completed a hunt and we have always kept our word. Always. And our family is down to the four of us. And we are here because a Herald of Valdemar risked his life to get us here while the Karse army was trying to get him and us. Our family gave our word that we would do what we could to help the country, from the shadows. Which we have. That pledge carries us to today and beyond. That is why I must do this." Valshay leaned forward to drive his point home. Grandfather had mentioned that Kerioth had not seemed to understand the totality of the family's responsibilities several months ago. Now he was trying to deal with it.
"Okay, okay. I understand. It's just hard to understand why we owe a debt that old. Let alone the Old Debt. But I trust you. If you say that is how things are than that is how things are. I'll just try to understand them." Kerioth held up his hands in surrender, one hand still clutching a hunk of cheese.
"Good. Try to talk to grandfather about things. That may be why he hasn't let you go on a hunt yet. He has to be convinced that you understand that. Then you can go on a hunt. Probably against one of the Karse patrols who so smugly forget where the border is along our land."
"But those don't really count in your tally, do they?"
"Nope. But they are good first hunts. Karse patrols are afraid of the night because of the demons. Do you think that makes them an easy target? Not likely. Besides, I did three of those hunts before I got my first solo job." Valshay finally took a pull on the bottle. The light taste of the cool mint tea was quite refreshing. He pulled himself a hunk of the loaf and from the cheese.
"Right after Dad disappeared." Kerioth said quietly, as he took the bottle.
Valshay and Kerioth sat there in silence for a moment, each alone with their memories of their father. They both remembered him as a tall, strongly built man with a warm and loving smile that even danced in his eyes. Seven years ago he had gone on a hunt into Rethwellan and had never returned. He had completed his hunt, their Grandfather had been able to verify that but he had simply vanished afterwards. No one knew what had happened and that had bothered everyone in the family. Their mother had gotten more protective about her sons after that. But the traditions of their family carried them on.
"Yes, right after that. While we were waiting for Dad to return from Rethwellan. Hunting the Karsites is good training; never forget that. Besides we do have to defend our land against them." Valshay finally broke the silence. Brooding over their father would do neither of them any good.
"Okay. I'll remember that. You take care on this Hunt. With no clear target I am afraid you'll do something stupid and vanish like dad." Kerioth's voice sounded heavy with worry. He was looking out into the garden, not risking a look at his older brother.
"I will Keri. I will be quite careful." The two of them sat for a while in the breeze, finishing up their lunch. The white cheese had a sharp flavor that both of the brothers had always liked. When the bottle of mint tea was finished, the two pulled each other to their feet. Smiling they headed back in to the manor.
*****
Valshay checked his saddlebags again, making sure that he had packed all the gear and clothes he would need for this Hunt in Haven. He had already done this to his pack twice already. He was planning to leave in about a half a candlemark, so he wanted to make sure he had everything. This practice was almost a ritual with him just before he left. All of his gear was where he had stored it; in the same places he usually stored it.
Kerioth was watching him from the doorway to his room. "Do you always fuss like this before you go? You are like a mother hen worrying over her chicks."
Valshay snorted in derision as he tied his saddlebags shut. He had everything he needed, including his blades stored in his gear. He even had something that would help him onto the palace grounds. Finally he could return it to its rightful place after four and a half years. He hefted the bags and turned to look at Kerioth. "Better to make sure you have everything before the hunt than to go wanting during."
Kerioth laughed. "Good, Val. Quote the old man at me. Here let me carry those."
Kerioth took the bags from his brother and headed down the hallway towards the stairs. The two of them walked down the circular staircase to the bottom with Kerioth leading the way. They walked out the doors of the great hall after winding through the bottom floor of the manor. In the courtyard was most of the household waiting to see him off. His mother, grandmother and grandfather were standing by his horse, which was being held by the Weaponsmaster. They seemed to be holding themselves with some tension, especially his mother.
This was a different collection of people for a good-bye prior to a hunt, so Valshay wasn't too terribly sure what he had to do in this case. His Grandfather walked up to him and grasped both his arms. "Valshay, you are our Huntsman. Be careful and come back to us safe and sound. This will be a rough hunt; I feel it in my bones. I feel as if this will be the end of you. So eyes bright, steel ready and stay quick."
His Grandmother just walked up to him and gave him a hug. With a dry kiss on his cheek she stepped back.
His mother walked up then and embraced him tightly. "Be safe. Your Grandfather tells me that in many ways you are better than your father but I worry. Come back to me."
"Yes Mother, I will. And Grandfather I will stay quick. I will stay as safe as I can in this. I promise all of you that. Besides, Night Lady forbid, if Keri becomes the Huntsman you will all go hungry." Everyone, including Kerioth laughed at that. The tension that had seemed to be surrounding them faded.
"Valshay, here is my shopping list for you, while you are in Haven. These are the things my ladies and I could use. Your Grandfather added some things as well. Take care and bring us back our shopping." His mother handed him a piece of parchment and smiled at him.
Valshay smiled back at his mother. "So I am now an errand runner for you now?"
"Yes. So hurry home." Her smile grew in strength as he played back with her. Years with this family had helped her to throw off the habits of growing up in a Holderkin family.
Kerioth had finished arranging the bags on Valshay's horse. Valshay hugged his mother and moved to mount his horse. The Weaponsmaster took his hand and shook it firmly. "Stay quick, Val, and I look forward to seeing you on your return."
Val nodded and mounted. He and Kerioth shook hands and Val rode out of the manor's safe walls. He turned his horse at the gate and waved to the group of those he loved watching him go. They waved back and he rode off on this next hunt with a lighter heart.