Hunter's War (Legend of the Wild Hunter Book 4) (32 page)

She was completely soaked as she struggled to climb out of the trough. Daniel tried to help, but he was laughing just as hard as the pony.

-There, now you don’t have to worry about getting wet.-

“This was not what I had in mind,” Kile shouted. She shook herself out, much like a dog would after a similar soaking. Her hair was now sticking out all over the place. What would Alisa say if she could see her now?

-You look cleaner.-

Grim remarked.

“You know, there’s a glue factory in Callor, and I think they’re looking for donations.”

-Kile look funny-

Vesper laughed from his perch on the mountain pony’s head and she suddenly saw herself through the yarrows eyes. She had to laugh.

“Do I even have to ask?”

Folkstaff was standing in the yard, alongside Captain Jax, Lord Bollen and a few of the Lord’s men. This was not the audience she would have liked.

“Sorry, sir,” She said, standing at attention. “I was just trying to… clean up, sir.”

“Of course,” Folkstaff replied with a shrug.

Jax laughed. “Funny, Master Folkstaff, you don’t appear to be too surprised.” He said. “Is this typical behavior?”

“For her, yes,” Folkstaff replied.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Kile asked.

“That was quite a show you and your horse put on back there.” Lord Bollen remarked, stepping forward. He was dressed in a more fitting outfit, something which better represented his station. Gone were the trappings of war and in their place he wore silk and lace. His new attire made him appear less formidable. His hands were clasped behind his back as he slowly walked around the mountain pony, looking him over. Kile kept an eye on Grim and hoped the pony didn’t get one of his wicked ideas.

Lord Bollen suddenly, but cautiously, stepped back. “It’s a mountain pony, isn’t it?” he asked. From his reaction it was clear, he knew exactly what a mountain pony was and what a mountain pony was likely to do, if annoyed.

“Yes, sir,” Kile replied.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone actually riding one of these,” he said, looking to his men for conformation.

“It’s not very common, my Lord,” one of the soldiers replied. “They tend to be too wild.”

“I see,” Lord Bollen nodded. He turned back to Kile. “How is it that you managed to tame such a beast?” he asked.

Grim didn’t take kindly to being called a beast, or to the assumption he could be tamed. He made a sudden move toward Lord Bollen, who didn’t see it, since his back was to the pony. Kile quickly jumped between them.

“What was that, sir?” She asked.

“Tame him, how did you tame him?” Lord Bollen asked again.

“Well… I didn’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We have come to accept, your Lordship, that Hunter Veller didn’t so much as tame the mountain pony, as she has… teamed up with it,” Folkstaff remarked.

Jax laughed. “That, I can believe.”

Kile glared at the Captain.

“And what is this curiosity?” Lord Bollen asked, pointing to Vesper. “I do not believe it is common for a rat to ride on the head of a mountain pony.”

“I believe it is a yarrow, my Lord.” The soldier added.

Finally, someone who can distinguish between a yarrow and a rat.

“I’d be careful with that one, my Lord.” Jax added. “He can be quite dangerous.”

“Can he now?” Lord Bollen laughed. “He doesn’t appear very dangerous.”

“I can assure you, my Lord, his looks are deceiving. I personally witnessed him take out an entire platoon of valrik as well as a rampaging Minotaur single handedly.”

“If I didn’t know you better Captain, I would say you have been dipping into the mead.” Lord Bollen replied.

“I can assure you, sir, it is true.” Jax said, stepping forward. “It was this very yarrow which dropped the kastelya and sealed the mainway of Moran.”

“So Captain, you are saying that this… yarrow… is responsible for the destruction of my outpost.”

“Your outpost?” Kile laughed “If it was your outpost, why didn’t I see you on the wall?”

“I think that’s quite enough, Hunter Veller!” Folkstaff said. He turned to Lord Bollen. “My apologies, your Lordship, she is rather young and a bit outspoken.”

Jax snorted “A bit.”

“No, please, Master Folkstaff,” Lord Bollen laughed. “It is refreshing to hear someone actually speak their mind and not be silenced by formalities. I fear most of my subjects would not tell me my britches were on fire for fear of offending me.”

“You have nothing to fear there my Lord,” Jax added. “She has no problem offending people.”

Kile shot the Captain another look.

“Splendid.” Lord Bollen replied, heading back to his men. “She shall ride in front with me tomorrow and I shall listen to all she has to say, that is, after she finishes cleaning up. I’ll send the nonay to help you get ready”

“What? Ride where?”

Master Folkstaff stayed behind while Lord Bollen disappeared around the side of the stables, followed closely by his men and Captain Jax. Kile was expecting to get a long lecture from her survival instructor, but the big man just shook his head and sighed.

“He has taken a liking to you, although I do not know why,” he remarked.

“Lord Bollen has always been one of the people.” Daniel replied. “He was never one to throw his rank around.”

“Still, you should show him at least some courtesy.”

“Where exactly am I riding to?” Kile asked.

“Forthbar,” Folkstaff replied. “Commander Barshed is on his way there to speak with the King’s representative. They will want to know about the siege of Moran and what, if anything, you learned in Denal.”

“I’m afraid, we didn’t learn much, it was a wasted trip in more ways than one,” she replied.

Folkstaff looked at her. “I wouldn’t say wasted.”

“But then why did all those men of Perha Squad have to die when a single Hunter could have gathered the information without setting off an entire war.”

“You didn’t actually set off a war, Kile. The valrik would have come to Moran whether Perha Squad entered Denal or not. Besides, had you not come here when you did, the outcome might have been quite different.”

“Still, if feels like those men died for nothing,” she replied.

“Well, the truth of the matter is, Sergeant Wargner had no authority to enter Coopervill.”

“Then why did he?” Daniel asked.

“We don’t know.” Folkstaff replied. “We’ve spoken with Corporal Duffy as well as the other members of Perha Squad who arrived in Forthbar, but they haven’t given us any clues. According to the Corporal, Wargner felt he could end the war if he retook Coopervill.”

“But that’s ridiculous.”

“Not to Sergeant Wargner.” Kile replied.

“So, why didn’t they just send in a Hunter?” Daniel asked.

“The thing is, the situation last year did not do the reputation of the Hunters any good. The military no longer trusts us and feels, if we cannot handle our own affairs, how effective can we be?”

“So, it’s true, what Drain said. He may not have stopped us, but he did cripple us,” Kile added.

“It’s worse than that,” Folkstaff replied. “There is talk the Hunter’s Guild has outlived its usefulness. The people no longer need us, the military no longer wants us and the crown, well… the crown had very little use for us to start with.”

“That can’t be true,” Daniel said. “The Hunters have done a lot of good.”

“That’s just it, son. They have… in the past. Now there’s no longer a place for us, not the way we are, anyway. We have to change or we have to die.”

“What about this?” Daniel asked, opening his arm to encompass the outpost. “The Hunters did this. We prevented the valrik from getting into Callor. That has to count for something.”

“It does count,” Folkstaff replied. “This may be our biggest triumph.”

“Or our last crowning achievement,” Kile added.

***~~~***

18

They came for her in the night. Four nonays armed with hairbrushes and soap. True to his word, Lord Bollen sent them to prepare Kile for the morning ride to Forthbar. She was escorted from the stables, where she spent the night, to the bathing facilities which were located within the remains of the old pub.

It was no longer the place where she enjoyed her last good cup of tea while sitting beside the fire, waiting for the valrik to make their decision. That was over a week ago, and so much has happened since then. For starters, she never did get the name of the herb which the cooks used to brew that tea.

The place was stripped clean of the original furniture. Most of which went to reinforce the barricades along the Cliff Road. All that remained were a few chairs and a single table. It just so happened to be the same table where Perha Squad sat, when she informed them they had just taken over the outpost. There were only four members of the original twenty three left in Moran. They will be leaving the outpost with her tomorrow, when she rode with Lord Bollen and his men.

The nonays set the place up as a bath house. Portable tubs were brought all the way from Norfrom and arranged in neat little rows long both walls. Several of these tubs were in use and the men were far from modest with their bathing. Kile felt the need to divert her eyes while the nonays led her to the back of the room. A wall of bed sheets provided a bit of privacy. One of the nonay, the grumpiest looking one, stood guard while the other three led her through.

This was where the bar once stood, she realized, when she stepped behind the curtain. The bar and all its contents were cleaned out along with the rest of the furniture. All that remained was a bare shelf along the back wall.

The tub looked more like a cot, with a low center, although, it held quite a bit of water. It was a simple wooden frame and a canvas sack.

“Please disrobe, miss,” one of the nonays said while she sorted through a bag which sat against the wall.

Kile looked at the other two women who were watching her.

“I can bathe by myself, thank you.”

“Lord Bollen wishes you to be presentable upon your departure from Moran,” the nonays replied.

Kile was a bit hesitant. In her mind, bathing was not a spectator sport, but she was really looking forward to the bath. The last one she took was back at base camp Riley, and that was over a month ago. Caving in to her desire for comfort, she slowly disrobed. Stepping into the tub, she found the water surprising warm and soothing. This may not be too bad, she thought, but that was before the nonays moved in.

One of the women began opening an assortment of bottles, and adding the contents to the bath water. It was a combination of flowery smells. Jasmine, alyssum, gardenia, rose, lilacs, any one of these, in small doses, wouldn’t have bothered her. It might have actually been pleasant. But blend them all together, and it was an assault on her senses.

The second nonay pulled out a long wooden handled brush, which looked as if it belonged on the battlefield, not in the bathhouse. She proceeded to scrub Kile’s skin raw, using a lavender-scented soap. But it was the third nonay, armed with her hairbrush and comb, who Kile feared the most. Kneeling behind her, she pulled back Kile’s head and began raking the comb through her hair, as if she was dethatching a lawn. Kile was sure, after the woman was done, she would never have to comb her hair again. She wouldn’t have any left.

The bath continued for several hours, at least, that’s the way it felt. Only when they were sure there wasn’t an inch of skin left on her body, or a hair left on her head, did they allow her to get out of the tub. The second nonay, the one who insisted on adding every flower from the garden to the bathwater, retrieved a tightly wrapped bundle from the bag and began to untie it.

It was then Kile realized the danger she was in. It was a trap, it had to be. A well thought out trap. She was unarmed and defenseless. With no weapon, no clothes, and no one to save her, she couldn’t escape. She was facing her worst nightmare. The nonay turned and held up a long, pink, frilly, dress.

“What the hell is that?” she shouted.

“His Lordship sent this for you to wear,” the nonay replied innocently.

“I am not wearing that.”

“But his Lordship…”

“If his Lordship likes it so much, then he can wear it.” Kile said, backing toward the curtain.

“Commander, is there a problem?” someone yelled from the other side.

Wonderful, Kile thought, Sergeant Tullner. What was he doing here?

Now she really was trapped. She couldn’t run, and she couldn’t stay.

“Commander, are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine Tullner, just… stay where you are,” she shouted.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, whatever you do, don’t come in.”

There was no getting out of this one, Kile thought. She would have to fall back to her survival training. Master Folkstaff warned them about the desire for comfort. She would have to wear the dress, because there was nothing else to wear.

Tullner paced the bathhouse floor, just outside the curtain. The grumpy looking nonay wasn’t going to let him pass, even if he wanted to. He had seen valrik less determined, and less frightening than this woman. If only Lord Bollen had sent them to the outpost earlier, they could have easily routed the valrik, armed only with hairbrushes.

The curtain was suddenly pulled aside and Tullner turned to see a young woman standing before him. She was wearing a long pink dress, which reached the floor, and her hair was tied up in a tight bun. Her lips were a dark shade of red and there was a touch of color in her cheeks. She was out of place in the ruins of the bathhouse and would have been more at home in the palaces of Azintar. This was not the same Hunter he traveled with over the past month. This was not the Hunter, who battled saladogs armed only with a long knife. This was not the Hunter, who charged a mountain pony through enemy lines.

She gracefully stepped forward.

“Commander, you…”

“Say one word Tullner. One word and I’ll bust you down to private before you can take your next breath,” she snapped at him. “Now, find me a pair of pants.”