Hunters - Breaking Free. Chp 6

Breaking Free

Under Construction


Highlanders were not known to be religious, only, they only believed in their ancestors that had existed on the earth before them, who they spoke to through the Shaman. This village seemed fearful of a shadow that overhung them all. It smelled like Vampire. And it was going to die. Before they moved any further Piero whispered to Barros. ‘Assume that everyone and everything is hostile’.

Moving stealthily through the huts around the edges of the village, Barros and Piero chanced upon a pair of swords. While not of as fine a make and coated in Fyndfire as theirs, the blades still fitted their fighting style. Still searching for any sign of their original weapons, the Hunters snuck up behind two Highlanders grovelling before a statue of a Shaman. Moving silently Barros and Piero slit each throat.

The Highlanders bodies dropped with a groan towards the statue which Piero picked up off the wall. It was a plain ivory carving with a few small chips cut out of it here and there like it had been thrown away.

‘Odd for a Highlander to be worshiping this’, he said surprised. ‘But this makes me think that these two aren’t with the mainstream’.
‘And it looks like someone’s tried to get rid of it’, commented Barros glancing at it. ‘If these Highlanders are in here worshipping this and the rest are out there, it makes me wonder what the rest are up to’.

‘Only two types of Vampires can influence this many people’, said Piero. ‘Desires’, Barros shifted uneasily. ‘Or Counts. You did kill Sophia didn’t you? Something tells me you didn’t finish her off’.

Barros looked away however Piero didn’t question him further. Instead he went to the next tent and motioned for Barros to follow him. Inside there was three Highlanders this time, who looked up at the Hunters as they entered the hut. The Hunter drew their blades, but stopped in time to realise these Highlanders were no threat. They sat in a circle each facing each other with their hands clasped in each others.
They looked up as the Hunters entered and recognition flashed over one’s face. He was a man that was smaller than the other Highlanders yet he was still rather large. His face was lit up like he had been shone upon by the all mighty Lord himself.

‘Piero Raldfast, shit man’, he said rising to his feet unable to stop grinning. ‘Where have you been you old bastard’, he said as he took Piero into a stern man hug.

‘All over the place’, said Piero returning the embrace in kind. ‘Rowan, you’ve settled down I see’, he said nodding at the boy and wife.
‘You haven’t changed a bit I see’, said Rowan letting go and inspecting Piero. ‘Stronger now it appears’.

‘More blood the better’, replied Piero. ‘Got to keep fit somehow, and that’s how they keep young isn’t it?’

‘Yeah I suppose so’, grunted Rowan. ‘Who’s this chap you’ve bought to see me aye?’ turning to Barros.

‘This chap is Barros Toldar’, snared Barros.

Rowan turned to Piero with an expression of disbelieve on his face. Piero looked back at Rowan and shrugged.

‘Not Barros Toldar from Sauria. You’re a wanted criminal there!’ exclaimed Rowan.

‘I thought all Hunters were criminals’, said Barros smirking.

‘Smart ass’, said Piero smiling. ‘Right, Rowan, what’s been going on here?’ he asked now getting serious.

‘When I came back here I thought I was leaving the old life behind for good. Then to my surprise about three months ago in comes some Lord who tricked the people into what it wants. They all gave in after the first week and his power has grown ever since. I and a few other families still worship the shaman’s’.

Cold dread struck the Hunter’s hearts as they had realised what they had done. The two Highlanders they had killed just before were allies of Rowan. ‘No need to mention it to him just yet’, thought Barros. ‘We do need a plan’.

‘So what’s the plan’, he asked Rowan still checking that Abner was still clinging off him. The boy was gripping lightly on Barros’s tunic
Rowan left his wife and son in the main room, taking the Hunters into a side room fair away from the entrance. Inside was a large square desk covered in maps and which housed Rowan’s axe. The two handed monstrosity that had taken the blood of many vampires lay upon the desk within easy reach for Rowan to grab in case of an attack.

Behind him on the walls, were maps of Taagras some of certain regions, others of the whole. Bear and boar skins were also lined the walls, to keep the cold out but the heat in. They could be taken down during the warmer months if need be.

‘I know this village better than anyone else’, said Rowan taking a map off the wall and unravelling it. ‘You’d be surprised how many nooks and crannies there are. All of our ‘non corrupted’ citizens remain in this half of the village’, drawing a circle around it with a dagger that he had pulled from his chest pocket.

‘The ‘converted’ as they call themselves are here. Lead by their Master Dominic his name is. He is a ruthless man, after he came shit turned bad. He turned us away from the Shaman, proclaiming to be a God himself. Only those of us vigilant enough stand against him. By the way, I have some crossbows here you might find useful’.

Barros and Piero muttered their thanks and went about searching the crossbows for defects. There was nothing to fix. The crossbows were exact replicas of the crossbows that they had lost at the fighting on the mountain. The usual ash or pine was replaced with a red wood that looked a lot like mahogany. Rowan took note of the expressions of delight that came over the Hunter’s faces.

‘You like them’, he said. ‘Crafted them myself, took me weeks to do because I thought they’d be of use to me one day. Swore to Bianca that I wouldn’t use them, but now that you’re here there is no problem. I need time to gather my forces’, said Rowan rising from his chair pushing it backwards. ‘Wait for me here until sundown’.

‘You’ve forgotten the first rule Rowan. Never go Hunting after dark, alone’, said Piero.

‘You’ve forgotten something master, I’m not alone’, replied Rowan as walked around the desk.

With that he swept his axe up into arms and strode out, saying a hasty goodbye to his Bianca and his son. As he passed the door, he spun around to the Hunters and said.

‘Stay here upon pain of death until I return’.

Barros and Piero took up residence in Rowan’s office and began planning. They laid maps out upon the desk and began searching for escape routes and vantage points in order to wrestle back control for the village from the unknown assailant. ‘If the maps were any more detailed Rowan would have included grasses’, thought Barros.

‘Look here’, said Piero finding something. ‘The area that the Highlanders gather in to worship this deity is here. The main court of the village. If you can get up on top of the gazebo with your crossbow we shouldn’t have a problem. Easy crowd control’.

‘Where will you be?’ asked Barros. ‘There won’t be enough room up there for both of us’.

‘You’re forgetting something. I’ll be on the ground in the crowd. I might not be a Highlander, but I do look like one’.

Barros couldn’t deny the fact. Piero was heavyset and stood almost two meters tall. He would have no problem blending in with the crowd worshipping whoever it was. Their conversation carried on a while longer before it was abruptly interrupted.

A door slammed, probably towards the front of the hut. It was Rowan returning from his gathering of followers. His eyes were red from crying and tears still slid down his face. Bianca, his son and the Hunters moved towards him to comfort him.

‘What happened Rowan?’ asked Bianca.

‘The Soulwinds, both gone’, he said sobbing.

‘Gone where?’ Bianca said shocked.

‘Gone beyond, to the next journey in one’s existence’, he said. ‘They’ve joined the ancestors. They would have helped us a lot’, he said looking at Barros and Piero. ‘Two of the best, now gone’.

Barros and Piero didn’t feel the need to speak. They continued watching the conversation between Rowan and Bianca discussing hands tight beside them. Amidst it all, Barros had an idea.

‘Surely there would be more of these Soulwinds than just the two that have been killed. Relatives or friends that are still in the area?’
‘No can do Barros’, said Rowan shaking his head. ‘The rest of the Soulwinds are far to the west, at least a week on horseback let alone on foot. We’ll have to make do with what we have. I have twenty men, all armed and ready to go. I’ll meet you outside’.

Barros and Piero prepared their weaponry; crossbows loaded and once again checked their armour. Bianca was left inside the hut with her son and Abner would not be safe with Barros for the time. He offered Abner to Bianca who was sitting on the floor with her son, preparing to pray to the Shaman.

She swept Abner into her arms and began cradling him, crooning softly. His tiny eyes met hers and he began to slowly close them. Bending towards him Bianca held him out so Barros could lightly kiss his brow.

‘I’ll be back after the battle is won’, said Barros. ‘Take care of him for me’.

He rose taking his hand from Abner’s head. Would his son be like this in years to come if he took on the mantle of the Hunters? Would he be abandoning his child before a battle? And then abandoning him for the remaining years of his life? The boy would endure many hardships over the years but it was to protect him.

Barros strode out of the hut, leaving his child behind him. His sole focus now was to cleanse the disease that hung over this village like a vulture swooping in on a carcass. Piero was now practicing basic phrases in the Highlander tongue that would allow him to blend into the crowd much easier.

It was a refresher course for him, as he had spent time among the Highlanders at a much younger age. The foreign sounds battered Barros’s ears and he had no understanding of what was being said. Personally he didn’t see the point of having Piero speak the Highlander language as they all knew and spoke in common on a regular basis. However it added authenticity to their plan so they needed it, else they would be doomed to fail.

The Highlanders turned as Barros crossed the little open ground to where they met, under a small tree, determinedly cleaning and sharpening the weapons they would use to throw the interloper from their ancestral home. ‘If someone united all of these Highlanders into an army, nobody would be able to stop them’, thought Barros. ‘Oh wait, someone nearly has’, thinking of the mysterious leader they were about to vanquish.

Rowan ordered his Highlanders, into a staggered formation, so as to not gain attention as they entered the worship ground. The men stood next to others they once called friends, and still were if they could be saved from the Vampires corruption. The body of the group came level with the gazebo, which was larger then what Barros had expected.

It was circular and was almost the size of Rowan’s hut, therefore there would be plenty of room for Barros to lay prone and begin shooting. Its high clearance from the ground and greyish black roofing would allow Barros to almost blend in until he began moving. As planned the Highlander directly behind Barros, picked him up and allowed him to grab the roof in order to pull himself up.

The Highlander threw the crossbow onto the roof after him along with the several dozen bolts wrapped in a clean linen cloth. Getting onto his stomach pulling the equipment with him, Barros moved to the east to follow the approach of Piero and the others. They were mostly mingled within the crowd, the majority towards the front ready to cover Piero, the rest on the outskirts prepared to cut off any escape
.
Barros slid a bolt from its package testing its razor sharp edge. It cut the linen with ease and it would be able to penetrate almost any type of armour. Fyndfire coated the bolt which could be used if anymore Vampires hid within the village. Picking another five for his first magazine Barros loaded it into the underside of the crossbow, pulling the strings it was now ready to fire. He then quickly assorted the remaining bolts into groups of six for when the time came he would need them. Now all that was left to do was wait for Piero’s signal.