Hunter's Academy (Veller) (18 page)

“Let’s see if you’re as good going down hills as you are going up.” Carter challenged as he and Dirk broke into a gallop. Grim was not one to be outdone and quickly fell into pace. Sure enough, He could navigate down hills as easy, if not easier than he could climb them as he pass Dirk in what Kile would have sworn was a free-fall maneuver. Instead of pulling up as most of the riders had done, Grim ran head first straight down the hill, his large platter sized hoofs slamming into the ground. This time Kile kept her eyes open, much to her dismay. They had passed Riders who were, at one time, well ahead of them, as the hill didn’t slow the mountain pony down as it had done the other horses. Even the river, where some of the riders had stopped to water their mounts was not an obstacle. Grim thundered past the cadets, back through the forest, until he broke out into the clearing of the field, only then did he slow down.

-I assume we’re going back to the academy.-

He remarked as he slowed to a steadier, even pace. The fact that the horse wasn’t even winded had surprised Kile who, although she hadn’t been running, was still trying to catch her breath. She recalled the way Latherby had described the Mountain Pony, a mount that can go long distances without the need of food, water, or rest, and the way he navigated the rougher terrain put the other horses to shame. It was no wonder that the Hunters had considered the use of mountain ponies over the standard plains horse. She was kind of glad they didn’t thou, because if they had, Grim wouldn’t be unique.

“No rush.” She said, stroking his side. “We can wait for the others.”

-As you wish-

It was several minutes before Carter did catch up, a few other riders had passed them, but since this wasn’t
a race, at least not that she was aware of, she really didn’t care.

“Okay, I give. If I ever say anything bad about that horse, you have the right to kick me in the ass.” Carter said as he rode up beside
her.

“Agreed.”
She replied.

“Hey you two, this is not a race.” Daniel yelled as he began to close ground, followed by a rather wobbly Alex.

“No one said it was.” Carter remarked.

“Well, you couldn’t tell by the way you two were bolting through the forest. We almost lost Alex twice.”

“I’m okay.”  Alex said as he rode up on Illusion. “I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“He is behaving himself, isn’t he?” Kile asked.

“Actually he’s been pretty good all day. Whatever you said to him must have done the trick.” The smaller cadet laughed. “If only you had the same knack with instructors this year would be a breeze.”

They weren’t the first to arrive back at the academy grounds, but they definitely weren’t the last, and Kile knew, that if she and Grim had wanted to, they could have improved
their time greatly, but she wouldn’t have given up that view for anything.

Master Pike stood in the center of the field, his boot was off and his foot was wrapped in a tight bandage. He appeared more annoyed th
an usual.

“You will take your horses back to the stables, brush them down and water them. After that… class is dismissed.” Master Pike said as they rode past him. Kile knew enough to keep Grim at a safe distance from the horse master, more for Master Pike’s sake th
an for Grim’s.

“Well, it would appear that we now have a hunter that rides a mountain pony.” Latherby called out from the paddock fence that he was sitting on. Kile nudged Grim
towards him.

“I think I understand now, why they wanted to use mountain ponies.”
She remarked when she got closer.

Latherby smiled as he stroked the
pony’s nose. Grim didn’t really care for the attention but he was willing to tolerate it, but for how long she wasn’t sure.

“It’s a shame really.” Latherby replied as he stepped back from Grim. She wondered if he could feel the annoyance of the horse from being touched. “Mountain ponies are a wonderful breed. Strong, durable, it’s a shame what the north folk do with them.”

Grim’s memory of his herd being driven off the edge of the ravine suddenly struck her. In a way she had been there, she had seen it, and it still didn’t make sense.

“Why do they do it sir? Why do they kill so many of the horses, it se
emed… senseless.”

“Well, to you and me it may seem senseless, but to the north folk… well, they have their reasons. You see they don’t only use the breed as beast of burden, they also use them as a food source.”

“They eat them?” Kile exclaimed, the thought of eating such an animal was barbaric, or at least it was to her.

“You have to understand Kile that different cultures have different beliefs, different values. You’ll realize this when you become a hunter, when you see first hand how other people live. Things that you take for granted, or think revolting, may be prized among other community. Don’t be so quick to judge other civilizations based upon your own yardstick, they seldom measure up… or down. I am sure that there are things that we do that can equally be considered strange or uncivilized to other cultures.”

“Yes sir.”

“You better get back to the stables and brush him down… there’s
quite a lot to brush there.”

“Yes sir.”

“And you are going to take full responsibility for this horse?”

“Yes sir.”

Latherby ginned “Good, then I’m sure Luke has some repair work for you to do when you get back to the stables.” He said as he walked off. Somehow she was not comfortable with that grin.

She rode Grim back down to the road and up to the western gates. The guards watched nervously as she passed, she just gave them a slight smile and a wave as
they continued on. It wasn’t until she reached the stables that she realized what Latherby had hinted at. One of the stable doors was hanging on by one hinge as it clung to a splintered wall, the other door had been completely torn off and was now propped up against the side of the building, a large platter sized hole marked the center. Pieces of wood and debris littered the ground around the opening.

“Grim.”

-The door wasn’t open.-

Grim replied in that unapologetic tone that she was starting to get
used to.

“So you walked through
it?”

***~~~***

7

Winter had come sooner than expected as the first snow fell late in the evening and didn’t stop for two days. The academy on the other hand, continued as usual. The training moved from the physical to the academicals as weapons were put on hold until the spring thaw and books were kept well in hand, of which Kile was eternally grateful. It was a lot harder to be injured by a book than it was by a sword, unless Voreing decided to throw it. It was something that he occasionally did when a cadet gave the wrong answer during class, or worse, asked the wrong questions. She had been on the receiving end of a few of those books, but they were easily dodged.

Master Pike wasn’t ready to risk the horses in the snow even if the cadet’s were. His evaluation of the skill level of the class as a hole was less th
an glowing, and had moved their training into the stables and instructed the cadets on the upkeep and care of their mounts.

The cadets in general began to migrate toward the Dining halls during the evening hours to suffer the cold nights in the only warmth that the academy had to offer.
All in all, everything was running about normal, until two days before winter’s feast.

This was the first year that Kile was actually looking forward to the festival, this was also the first year she knew about it in advance, and unfortunately this was also going to be the one that she would always remember.

The morning started like every other morning had started, with the tolling of the bell by Master West. Kile was already up and dressed as she waited in her cell until the last possible moment, not wishing to leave the warmth that Morgan’s floating ball of fire provided for her, but there was no postponing the inevitable. She closed the ball in its metal box, set it on the chest of draws and told Vesper to behave before venturing out into the hall. By this time the dorms were mostly empty, as only a very few determined cadets were willing to brave the cold for the sake of their privacy. She often wondered if Morgan hadn’t handed out more of those floating balls of fire than just the one he had given her.  Seeing the guilty looks on the faces of some of the cadets that emerged from their cells for roll call was a strong indication that he might have.

She pulled her brother’s hat down around her ears, it was either getting smaller, or her head was getting bigger, either way it was the only protection she had from the cold, aside from the winter cloak that was really too threadbare to keep the chill at bay.
She took a deep breath charged out into the snow with half a dozen other cadets that were equally reluctant to brave the winter morning. The cold was a shock to her system as she stood waiting, jumping from one foot to the other in a vain attempt to keep warm. More cadets began to file out from the Dinning halls as they came down the hill and took their place within the field. If nothing else, the shear number of cadets standing around provided some physical warmth as well as shielding her from the winter winds.

The first indication that something was amiss that day was the lack of order. There
were no third year cadets calling out the names, no third year cadets standing beside the gate, ready to close out any stragglers, in fact there was nobody running the morning routine. The cadets stood out there in the toe numbing cold for what seemed like half an hour, before the office door finally opened. Sir Oblum stood in the doorway, looking out over the compound. He stepped out into the snow and walked across the small stretch of ground to reach the fenced in area. His dogs didn’t escort him this time, which was another clear indication that all was not as it should have been. Oblum pushed open the gate and took his place before the cadets, saying nothing as his eyes scanned the group slowly. The always fierce look on his face had been replaced by one of a solemn nature; he suddenly looked very old and very tired.

Master Adams emerged from the office next. He didn’t even look at the cadets, but instead headed toward the notice board and started unrolling parchments, tacking them up one by one. When he was finished he returned to the office door and gave a slight nod to Oblum, who returned the gesture. What ever was going
on was not going to be good.

“We have just received word that as of last month, an organized raid on three western outposts by the
uhyre has resulted in the deaths of two hundred and twelve civilians… and fourteen hunters.” Oblum announced. His once powerful voice sounded as if it was on the verge of breaking. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Greenwater, Grover’s Den, and White Pines… are no more. If you have family or friends in those locations, then you have our condolences and the guild will provide any means at their disposal to help you in this time of tragedy. All the names will be posted upon the notice board. Classes have been canceled until further notice.”

He didn’t wait around to explain or answer questions, not that there
were any questions being asked. The cadets just stood dumfounded in the snow. Two days before the happiest night of the year was not the time to be thinking about the death of so many. Some began to move back toward the Dinning hall, some looked toward the Eastern gate. Fourteen hunters had died; it was a wake up call. If the entry examination hadn’t shown the dangers that a hunter faces, then that cold hard fact did. A hand full made their way to the notice board, Kile was one of them.

The everyday messages such as the chore schedule, the mystic arts appointment, even the lost and found list had been covered up by five large sheets of parchment. Four of them were bone white and bore the name of each civilian in alphabetical order. Groups of them listed with the same last name indicated entire families had been massacred. There was no other information, no details, no ages, of which Kile was grateful. The anonymity of the names was bad
enough; to know if they were children would have been unbearable. The last sheet was a soft green in color and edged in black. Written upon this were the names of all fourteen hunters. Kile found the name she was looking for, and wished she hadn’t. Third from the top, under the names of 'Sanders, Craig' and 'Prain, Peters' was written in a shaky hand the name 'Treeman, Garret K.' The only thing she could think of was that he had promised to be at her graduation.

“Well, there’s fourteen more
openings for us when we graduate.”

Kile turned to see Eric, his greasy black hair framing a smug face, his finger resting upon Tree’s name and the only thing she wanted was to …

“You bitch.” She heard him curse as someone grabbed her from behind and was pulling her back. Master Adams had appeared from nowhere and was pushing cadets aside.

“We are not doing this, not now, not today.”
He yelled although she didn’t know what he was yelling about, all she knew was that Eric was picking himself out of the snow clutching his nose as blood seeped through his fingers.