Chapter Eleven

  He Who Lurks in the Woods

  “We need to make it to Altinbren by moon rise, come on, just a bit further,”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever walked this far in my life,” Gwen said, shifting in her wolf-skin jacket, trying to keep up.

  “Wait!” Cailean put his hand up and reached to slowly draw out his bronze sword.

  “What is it, did you hear something?” Gwen rushed to Cailean’s side.

  “Shh, let me focus,” he said. Gwen ducked against him, as he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. A Wood Scraper? No, the rustling came too far from the tree trunks. Ursaling? No, it would have charged us by now. It was a bit too early in the winter for them to be out, but there was the possibility that there were some spi-

  “Ahh!” Gwen cried out and tried to grab onto Cailean’s waist as she was yanked by her ankle to the ground. Cailean lunged and tried to grab her. Holding her hand in his and pulling against a thick stretch of web clinging to her ankle.

  “Hang on!” Cailean called out, swinging the sword in his other hand to try and slash at the webbing. Gwen’s hand slipped from his and she screamed as she was dragged through the trees, clawing at the ground as she was ripped across the dead leaves and mess of mud and snow covering the forest floor.

  Cailean chased her, looking up and seeing the eight glossy eyes of a Spider Folk. Leaping through the air he dove between Gwen and the beast and hacked again and the messy web clinging to her boot. The Spider reared back on its hind legs and lunged, poison fangs bearing towards Cailean as he raised his shield to intercept them. The Spider’s mandibles wrapped around the shield and bucked Cailean left to right as Gwen turned over and tried to shift away, the remnant of the webbing sticking her boot to the ground as she tried to shake it free. She dug her hands into the snow-laden mud and pushed herself up.

  “Behind you!” she cried out as Cailean brought his shield up to block another lunge of the beast, as yet another spider emerged from the ground just as Cailean wildly swung his sword to hack at its arm. The bronze blade broke the limb at the joint and a sickly blue bile leaked from it as the first spider knocked him to the ground.

  “Run back to the path!” Cailean commanded as the spider jumped and pinned him to the ground he held his shield up to defend himself from the baring, twitching fangs. The dirt and leaves continue to gather around her sticky foot and continued to weigh her down. To her left she saw another Spider Folk jumping towards her. She dove to the left and landed face first in the ground, rolling over to try and get away as Cailean turned his sword to the side and began stabbing over and over through the rough black carapace of the giant arachnid. The blue viscous blood spilled on his armor as he reared his leg up to kick the thrashing beast off his chest.

  Gwen struggled to her feet, grabbing a loose branch on the ground just to have something to swing against the eight-legged, eight-eyed, monster skittering towards her. It reared its fangs and spit a soggy blob of webbing toward her, clocking her in the side and knocking her over next to a tree. She fought to pull herself back up, but the blob had affixed her in place. She struggled her arms out of her wolf skin jacket so she could escape the webbing of the monster.

  Cailean rushed to her side and stood between her in the monster. It leaped through the and Cailean swung his shield arm to bring the bronze-plated edge of his shield to the monster’s throat, embedding it between the creature's head and body. The weight of the monster pushed him down to the ground and he tried to spin on the ball of his foot to land on top of the thrashing creature. In a quick, and quite honestly, exemplary show of swordsmanship flipped his sword hilt in his hand to angle his blade and embed it between its fangs, forcing through the monster’s throat and out the back of its skull, embedding it in the wet ground beneath them.

  “Cailean, behind you,” Gwen fell back pushing against the ground to back away as Cailean tried to force his sword tip from the damp earth. He raised his shield to protect himself just as the monster reared its legs back to leap again on top of him. Cailean closed his eyes and braced himself for the impact of the giant monster. Just then, a gray flash came across the air between them. A great bronze longsword swung over Cailean and in a fluid motion, the Spider Folk lost its two front legs and its head. The gray-cloaked figure turned and with one arm swigging its longsword, sliced another Spider that Cailean would have never noticed trying to sneak up against his flank.

  The grey hooded figure lifted his sword with one hand, and in that same Winter Hunter trained movement, executed a hilt flip and jammed his blade behind himself ripping into the head of the last Spider Folk that had emerged from the woods to attack them.

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  Cailean knew immediately he had to respect the skill of swordsmanship he was witness to. And only one arm, this gray-cloaked figure didn’t even have the sense of mind to arm himself with a shield for protection. So confident in one hand and one sword. Cailean turned and pushed himself up to run to Gwen’s side. He took her hand in his and pulled her up off the ground. Together, they turned to the figure in gray.

  “That sword, it’s bronze,” Cailean said, his heart still thumping and his breath still rough from the battle. The Gray cloaked figure held his sword and Cailean could make out the ancient inscriptions along the bronze blue-blood-stained blade. One arm was still concealed under his cloak as he lifted his sword hand to his hood and pulled it off. A long mat of graying hair flowed down past his neck. The figure turned and Cailean could see that his lack of shield and use of only one arm was not a choice, under the cloak Cailean could see that this man was disabled, missing a limb, not that that stopped him from being any less deadly in battle. He turned to the two, a graying beard resting on a full jaw under old and tired brown eyes. The figure raised his blade and pointed its tip right to Cailean.

  “Hail, young Winter Hunter,” he said, his voice gravely and carrying an air of respect and gravitas. He sheathed his sword and straightened his shoulders, he stood a head and then some over Cailean and Gwen, and his body was broad, his shoulders seemed twice the length of Cailean’s if they were but an inch bigger, his presence commanded respect, admiration, and just a hint of fear that any Winter Hunter would be proud to exude, “How many seasons?” the grey-clad man asked the young Winter Hunter.

  “First,” Cailean said, taking a step between Gwen and the imposing man in the gray cloak, “It’s my first winter,” he gulped, trying to stand just as proud and strong as his senior brother.

  He smiled, “Your blade work is serviceable,” he gave Cailean a once over, “Look as though you paid attention in training, look as though you know your way around that shield too,” he took a deep breath, “Didn’t seem like your first encounter, are you sure you’re a first season, son?” he asked.

  “Yes sir,” Cailean looked down, “My first season, and my first encounter where I got a killing blow,” Cailean sighed and a small stream of steam came from his mouth. “That sword, those runes, it’s Druid Smithed bronze, isn’t it?” Cailean said, “Only the most seasoned of hunters would have a blade like that,” he looked to the man’s side, “And your arm,” Cailean said.

  “What’s going on,” Gwen asked, “Who is this?” she reached to grip Cailean’s arm as she stood behind him, feeling safe with her Winter Hunter, but still feeling a bit intimidated by this great one-armed warrior before them.

  “Aye boy, you know who I am don’t you?” he asked, “Tell the little sun-kissed girl,” he smiled.

  “I know, but I don’t believe it, even seeing you with my eyes, even knowing there's no possibility you could be anyone else, I,” Cailean stammered, “I still don’t believe it,” Cailean sheathed his sword.

  “Who are you!” Gwen, her heart still thumping, and her hand still clinging to Cailean’s sleeve as she cowered behind him.

  “He’s is the Dawn’s Sword, the Druid’s Blade, the King of Hunters, the greatest of all of us, the Hunter of legend, the Arm of the Morning, The Sun Chosen Slayer, the thing that monsters fear, the reason they fear the sun, You’re Lord Duncan Hightower, aren’t you?”

  “Wait, he’s real?” Gwen said, stunned, her jaw dropping as she let go of Cailean’s sleeve, “I thought he was just a legend, a story.”

  His smile pursed into a further, larger curl, and he let out a low laugh, “You forgot the Giant Slayer, I can tell you that was the hardest moniker I earned,”

  “He’s supposed to be seven feet tall,” Gwen said, still stunned being face to face with this legend.

  “Six foot and a half, I see my reputation precedes me,” He approached Gwen, took his one hand, and ran it through her hair, “Yes I can see it, she’s Sun Blood all right,” he smiled, getting a blush from the young girl.

  “So tell me, what’s a first-year Winter Hunter doing with a girl of the Sun Blood on his arm?” he asked, giving Cailean another once over.

  “The turning, in Mythis, it was attacked, the Winter is rising this year, I even had to kill a Dark Stalker, the Winter wants this girl dead, I’m not going to let that happen,” he said, trying to keep his shoulder’s up and stand tall against this legend.

  “Dark Stalker, so the rumors are true, the Sun King is dead and the Voice of Winter is making its move, always worried it would come to this,” he turned and went to one of the dead Spider Folk and grabbed its arm, dragging it along, “Follow me, young Winter Hunter, little sun-kissed girl, we’ve much to talk about,” he said, dragging the spider.

  “Sir, Lord Hightower,” Cailean tried to figure out how he should address him, “We need you, you’re right, the Winter is making its move, just as you said, how do we stop it?” he asked.

  “Duncan Hightower,” Gwen sighed, “How can you tell, that I’m sun-kissed as you say, that I have the blood,” she followed the two men, with every step trying to wipe the webbing from her foot.

  “I fought for the Sun King in my time as a Hunter, I recognize his eyes, and I recognize the little girl he confessed to fathering, I saw you when you were just up to my knee, you probably don’t remember, so many winters ago,” he smiled.

  “Lord Hightower-” Cailean had so much he wanted to ask him.

  “Not a Lord anymore, not a hunter anymore,” he said, cutting Cailean off, “Just an old cripple with one arm trying to survive another damn winter,” a forlorn look came across his face, “Come, young Winter Hunter, we’ve much to discuss,” he said dragging the heavy Spider corpse across the ground.

  “Why are you taking that?” Gwen asked, “To make some weapon, use its poison?” she asked, following Cailean.

  “You want dinner, don’t you? A spider doesn’t have much meat, but it’s good for you, good for your blood,” he looked to Cailean, “Can put some hair on a young man’s chest,” he smiled.

  “We’re not going to actually eat that, are we?” Gwen hissed to Cailean.

  Cailean just shrugged and had a look on his face that said they should probably listen to him.