Dusk Falling (Book 1) (2 page)

“Yes…” the Bounty Master replied with a lifted eyebrow.

“Okay then.” Aya said with upraised palms. “The people who do such are the type that is desperate to catch the accused named but want to stay out of the public eye in doing so. They are the type who has already tried. And failed.” She based her observations on most part of the fact that most bounties are placed through emissaries or couriers not by the Client himself. “More often than not they are very willing to pay the higher fees to the Hunters as well as to the Circuit itself when it comes down to it. In other words, if they make this sort of effort there’s a real good reason- at least to them- and moneys no object. We want seven hundred. We’ll take six twenty-five from
the Client and,” The young mage smiled her sweetest smile. “seventy-five in Circuit fees from you. That is our asking price.”

“What?!” Joln exploded, half rising out of his chair. “I can’t do that! Absolutely not. That’s outta the question.”

Serrtin tapped her chin thoughtfully with a sly glance to Aya. “I like that idea. You’re getting quite good at negotiations, you know.”

The Bounty Master stared at them incredulously with his one good eye, glancing back and forth between Yarcka and Bren.

“Inform the Client of our deal. I’m sure that when we have apprehended the Chase and have him safely behind bars the Client will pay whatever amount you ask. Maybe even raise it. So, I take the job won’t be easy if Serrtin quoted seven hundred. Black Dragon?”

“Hmph, all three.”

Aya’s dark eyes widened. All three? Meaning all three symbols- Gryphon, Dragon and Dagger. A highly dangerous rogue mage wanted by a township official or head of an organization. There was only one warrant on the Board like that.

…a new posting, black stain fresh, corners unbent and unwrinkled. The only color a shading of late sunset or the depths of precious amber jewels…

“Get our half of the Bounty. We’ll take the job.” Aya spoke before her mind was given time to judge the risks.

They had taken on Gryphons with Red Daggers and a few Black Dragons before but never all three in one entity. It was a rare occurrence. The Circuit often approached Hunters of high standing for this sort of Chase; not only did save less experienced lives, the more reliable Hunters often earned their Bounty Masters a bonus of the silver kind. In this light, Aya had no problem asking for the extra compensation.

The Yarcka clapped her heavy hand on the girl’s shoulder plate with a grin, eyes glinting. Serrtin loved a challenge and with a Triple Sign a challenge was a guarantee. All her kind loved such- it was in their blood. To face any and all foot-to-foot on their path to victory was the epitome of Yarcka passion. There was a saying in Demaria ‘as forthcoming as a Yarcka’ for a Yarcka never hid behind lies or skulked in the shadows- no matter their political or moral alignment. They simply did not fear any mortal that walked or crawled in their Realm of Realms.

Bren were different. Much different. But this particular Bren was not afraid. As sappy as it sounded even to her own ears, Aya knew that as long as her friends- her team- were right there with her, she would never back down from any flesh and blood being. Traveling with them had taught her that.

The people and the creatures they fought as Hunters for the Circuit were all varying degrees of evil but they could be hurt, could feel pain and be killed just as the next. They could all be brought to bear punishment for their crimes, every one of them. None were exempt from that, not even the long-lived Elves if the Warrant was plausible to the Circuit. The only beings that truly were exempt were immortal. And the Gods did not have anything at stake here.

The Master looked long and hard at the young dark-maned Bren. She wore a light silver breastplate and shoulder guards- wise given their profession- over a sleeveless robe and black pants. The robe was a dark indigo almost midnight blue in color, split up the sides for ease of movement. Skin pale and even, unmarked by time and hardship, she did not look much like Hunter. Most female Hunters he met were as unpleasant to the eye as the ear. They had to be. Bounty Hunting was a tough business.

But Joln knew firsthand how tough the lass was- had to be. The Bounty Master of the Circuit in Zara Krell had once written to him of the ‘girl with long black hair and her Yarcka companion’ who had brought in two heavy bounties in record time. Bounties that had been tried before to no avail and that by Hunters of renowned experience within the Circuit. Sureshots failed yet they succeeded. They were building quite the reputation for themselves.

“Alright. Ye’ve been cautioned and know the Rules. The Chase must be brought to a Circuit Hold alive. The Client did not specify condition so do what ye must.

“Half pay now, half upon return. The other Circuit Holds will be notified of yer acceptance of this warrant,” he droned on, having said such many a time. But rules were rules within the Circuit and they were to be followed at all times. If the rules were omitted, the Circuit would be no better than a mercenary guild. “Deposit can be made any Hold and pay given therein. Failure to bring in the warranted individual without contacting the Circuit within the standard period of three months will result in the immediate warranting of ye yerself- therefore it is advised to check in every month. New information may come available through the Client. I don’t believe I need to tell ye how the other Hunters feel about deserters.” Through the window, the Bounty Master slid the documents over. “Here’s the warrant assigned to the Hunter- it is official and may help in attaining information. There are no special orders from the Client beyond a quick quiet arrest and that the warranted individual must be brought back
alive. Name-dropping is not permitted in this case. They are a private organization and will remain anonymous. We have been informed the warranted individual will more than likely be alone but the utmost caution should be employed in apprehension. Description and leads are on the warrant. Any questions?”

“Hmm, a bit shady to me.” Serrtin said, commenting on the Client as she took up the papers. “Did they checkout with you?”

“Ye know it’s my job. All I am permitted to say in this case is that they are a private organization that very much wishes to maintain their anonymity but need a small amount of outside help in this situation. They came to the Circuit instead of simply hiring mercenaries because of our reliability and proven record. It is, as ye are aware of, not a Hunters place to know anything beyond what will help them apprehend and subdue the warranted individual or individuals.” He scratched under his knit cap before running a gnarled hand over his single eye. “But I understand the reasons why ye ask. We of the Circuit are, technically, mercenaries when it comes down to it- albeit the top of its class- hiring out to those who can afford our fees by way of contract. But that doesn’t mean we hire out to just anyone or for any cause. As Bounty Master, I must pass judgment on potential Clients to make sure their mission for our Hunters is legitimate and not for an ill or underhanded cause. We must all uphold the virtue of the Circuit in the ways we conduct business under its name.

“A word of advice, though- watch yerselves on this one. We’ve lost Hunters. Good ones.”

Serrtin snorted impertinently, reaching over her right shoulder to touch the hilt of her flamberge. Mostly used by heavily-armored footmen against mounted opponents due to the weapons long blade and two-handed grip, it was perfect for stealing under (or in most cases, through) armor plating and inflicting wounds no ordinary healer could mend, unseating the enemy in the process. Hers was a heavy breed of sword, unwieldable by most Larren swordsman due to its sheer weight and necessary skill level. But to a Yarcka who stood over seven feet in height and towered over most races, it was nothing more unwieldy than a broadsword. “No man can beat a Yarcka. And especially not this one.”

It was the Bounty Master’s turn to snort his opinion though not out of disbelief or mockery. He failed to give further comment less that particular Yarcka attempt to make the Cage’s metal bars all whole lot less secure. He rose from his seat and returned a moment later.

Joln slid over to them through the bars a nondescript bag of woven hemp that made the familiar ‘chink’ of coin. Aya accepted it with a nod.

On their way to the door, passing a solitary Hunter on his way to speak with the Bounty Master, Aya handed the bag to Serrtin in exchange for the warrant papers. With such a large sum it was always wise to have it carried by the largest most intimidating of the team. It helped in avoiding potentially time-consuming nuisances. Plus Aya read better, so the warrants went to her, at least until they met up with Agemeer.

Stepping out into the light of full day, the Bren mage squinted as she unrolled the scroll. It was made of a pliable fibrous material, most likely woven from a type of plant matter. The words were written in the careful precise scrawl of one of the Circuit’s penmen. The picture as well as script was much more detailed than the warrant that had adorned the Wall.

Drawn from the description given by the Client at the time of issuing the contract, Aya was beginning to become quite adept at reading the images for more than face value. Gryphon warrants tended to be the most accurate of any of the symbol warrants because the Chase had somehow offended or acted against an organization. Organizations or those with power tended to afford more coin in dealing with those sorts of affrontments. Often times these Clients had their own artisans construct the caricature of the warrant.

The image on the scroll Aya held in her hands was of a man, age in determinant. Black ink was used instead of charcoal or the cheaper stain, bespeaking the Client (whoever it was) as someone who had money to spare and were not some backwater gathering. They valued accuracy. Though no expert in such crafts, she could recognize and appreciate the grace and style of the penman. A professional no less and not Circuit paid.

So the Bren could deduce that the Client was no ordinary group either but one that could appreciate the Arts even in things like a warrant. Thug-sects were out. The man of the picture was either Elven in heritage or Elven-kin by judge of his high cheekbones, tapering jaw and long pointed ears.

It was not Aya’s job to delve into the hidden meanings behind warrant caricatures but it was difficult not to. Clients who did not want potentially crippling information to leak out to their rivals or the public in general knew they could rely on the Circuit to avoid unnecessary attention. Questions were asked of course but the information was kept to the Bounty Masters and other top personnel, Hunters excluded. It cut down on trouble that way. If the Hunter didn’t know, the Hunter didn’t care- giving in to possible sympathy with the warranted was not something spoken of and missions were completed on time. It was for the best.

Trailing the bulky form of Serrtin, keeping the warrior in the corner of her sight, Aya was surprised to see no name listed in her inspection of the warrant. None at all. “There’s no name…”

“What?” Serrtin asked with a glance back at Aya. The Yarcka fairly parted the crowds of people like a boat through water.

“I said there’s no name listed on the warrant.”

“That’s alright. We’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way- stompin’ around and knockin’ a few heads. And I’m sure our ‘little friend’ will help us out. Let’s get back to Aggy and then head out. One more watered-down shot from this place and I might start my stompin’ a little early.” Serrtin said, eyeing the locals meaningfully when they got in her way.

‘Our little friend’ was Kcrienalpralopar, the Asrai. Purchased at a traveling bizarre scant miles north of the Barrier, she had been close to death. Luckily, due to Agemeer’s wealth of scholarly knowledge her life had been saved and Kcrie joined their team. The Hunters’ luck on missions improved dramatically with her inclusion. As with all her kind, the Asrai possessed a high since of justice and was upright almost to fault. Kcrie’s Binding skills were nothing short of amazing and helped in subduing many a rogue mage. Though quiet and often standoffish, she was very much an intricate part of the team.

Chapter 2

Once outside the town Aya and Serrtin headed south towing Aya’s bay mare that they had retrieved from the local holding pasture for four silver. There was a small outcropping of rocks surrounded by a copse of thin-leaved trees. Here, they would wait.

The Yarcka immediately took up a place on a hefty chunk of stone and began to polish her flamberge dutifully with a scrap of cloth. Aya sat nearby in the soft grass and crossed her ankles before her. Stashing the warrant scroll and the other documents safely under a leg, she folded her hands and bent her head.

Closing her eyes, Aya sought to put aside the current mission and center her mind. She had been taught to use meditation as a way of balancing herself not only as a mage but as a Bren as well. Inwardly she sighed as familiar thoughts came unbidden to her mind. *Grandmother, I know what you would say. My place is in Bren, in school, studying to become a better mage- for myself, for my family and for those who may need my help.
I have tried
, been trying! I remember you telling me so long ago to always follow my heart and this- the life I’ve chosen- is what is right for me. I can use my powers to help people and that is what our Ancestors have always taught us, right Grandmother?

So for now please forgive my errant ways. I promise, someday when I’m ready, I will finish my training and become a mage that will make all our family proud. Until then, I hope to emulate your strength. Help me achieve resolve when I lack conviction, strength when I lack the power and clearness of mind to stay steady in pursuit of what is right. Watch over me as I know you always have been.* Closing her prayer, Aya consciously relaxed all her mind and body. She began her ritual of drawing energy in, focusing it as if she were to cast a spell, then carefully releasing the energy and allowing it to settle as it had been. Like untying a knot of strings, she unwound the fibers and laid them straight before gathering them altogether again in a simple yet tight weaving of power. For a good mage, this exercise would be as easy as breathing and would be like second nature. Not only was it good practice for when one would cast a spell as well as dealing with the backlash of miscasting, it was also a good mental and physical ‘stretch’. It left her feeling vibrant.