Chapter Nine

  The Next Turning

  The Winter that would never end was sieging the dark capital of Kal-Dovean in a blizzard with no sign of stopping. The people of Kal-Dovean were used to the winters being just a bit more cruel to them. As those who descended from the first king of winter, and the first man to rise up against the goddesses and bring this frozen fury to the descendants of the first Gailech man and his hundred and forty-four wives, their blood deserved a bit harsher treatment.

  As Edmund made his way through the castle, he was beset on all sides by concerned public servants.

  “The citizens are rioting, they demand more grain,”

  “We’ve already provided them their rations for the month, our farmers know how to till the soil in winter, give them time to pull the grain we need, the people have their rations, I will hear of this no more,” Edmund attempted to dismiss the aide with a wave of his hand.

  “The farmers have tried to pull more wheat from the fields, but this winter is proving more devastating to the soil than winters past, even with their knowledge of growing in the cold their toil still brings nothing, and the allotments we’ve promised the people frankly aren’t in the reserves when the grain dries the people will-,”

  “People will fall in line to their king, and trust him to see their new life in the cold, our grain promises have coddled the people for too long, if they wish for grain, tell them to grow it themselves!” he snapped.

  “My lord?” the aide stopped, his spine straightened, “A city of this size must rely on-”

  “Rely on what? The work of others, rely on help, rely on the Goddesses. No more! Those who can survive, will. For those who can’t, let them riot amongst themselves for scraps, and when they’ve killed each other, let the strong be left to feast on them,” he said, “Consider your position a blessing in winter, if you or any other of your ilk come to me with some idiotic concern you can count yourself in the riot as well,” he said.

  “Yes my lord,” not wanting a place in the coming riot, the aide listened to the king and retreated.

  Edmund knew that if any such riot were to brew, there would be his proud Dark Stalkers there silence the concern of the citizens. He had spent several springs in secret, training those terrible tyrants for the Winter without end that he promised them was all but certain. In the darkest hour, those people prone to riot would find themselves turning to those who stalk the dark. As winter’s bitterness grew, the Dark Stalkers would bring slain bodies of deer and monsters alike, dragging them through the streets as the strongest citizens dove upon them to rip and tear whatever flesh they could find for their families. Edmund had promised a station as Master of the Dark Stalkers to any man in black who could bring the great feast of a Unicorn. Edmund knew that by slaying and serving that great symbol of spring on a platter to the people, he could finally show those horned beasts for what they were, mere symbols, just lies. Unicorns were thought a myth by most, and rumored to be immortal by the few of Kal-Dovean that still believed in them. Unicorns were said to be the last creation of the Goddesses. The last argument they made for why men in their foolish beginnings should enslave themselves to worship. They created a creature so beautiful, so flawless, a creature that could heal any wound, give any blessing, “Lies,” Edmund said to himself as he had a passing thought of that creature, that's all it was, just another damn animal, just another meal that people who provided for themselves could feast upon. This world was man’s, no longer the Goddesses even if it ever was.

  Edmund came to the lowest chamber of the castle, there four Dark Stalkers stood at attention, always watching, they each put a fist to their chest and bowed to the King of Night.

  Edmund said nothing to his men as he entered the room. Inside there were another four Dark Stalkers, who also stood at attention, and who also saluted, standing equally distant around a great black ebony chest. Edmund approached it and knelt, “Leave me alone,” he said, as the Dark Stalkers nodded and left their king to open the chest.

  His Dark stalkers had been more than obedient since the slaying of the Sun blood, well most of the Sun blood. Edmund had seen in his visions, been told by the voice that a mere drop of that damned Goddess serving blood remained. The foolish amongst his Dark Stalker would tell him that the Sun King was dead, his daughters were dead, the Winter Hunter Order was in ruin, and there is no one left to bring the sun back to this world. They foolishly told him that he had won, saying that even if there was but a drop of Sun Blood left in the world, it could never threaten the demented dream of a world without spring. And to that, Edmund offered them a glass of water, a glass brought by melting the early snow of winter, pure and life-giving water, proof winter could provide a boon in all its perceived horribleness. He would say, “This is a pure glass of water, if you were to drink from it, you would live, you would thrive, and it would give you the strength you need to continue living in this world,” then he pulled out a small vial. It was an old poison, a Dark Stalker concoction that give their useless steel weapons something of value when hunting the monsters that seemed to be immune to man's greatest creation, “But if I were to provide, one single drop,” he dabbed one single drop of the poison into the glass, “One single drop,” he slid the glass forward, “Would you still drink it?” he asked, brave as they were, not a single Dark Stalker would take up his offer, and the ones who spoke of one drop of sun blood not being a threat were silenced.

  Alone in the room, Edmund opened the chest, inside lay the last gift of the Goddesses, the last of their works. The Anchor. Edmund felt a feeling of disgust seeing this old relic. He pulled it out and held it up. A useless glass orb, at least it looked like glass. When Edmund spiked it to the ground, as he had many times, he didn’t even put a dent in it. He drew his steel sword and screamed as he threw his arm down, as he had many times, trying to shatter it to no avail.

  “You failed,” the Voice of Winter spoke in his ear, Edmund looked down at his bandaged palm, that wound on his hand that wouldn’t heal. That was his conduit to the voice, he bled for the Voice and made claim to the great vision the Voice promised him when he made his oath against the spring and against the Goddesses that brought it.

  “Not yet,” Edmund said, “Not yet, the Hunters are dead, the Sun Blood down to a drop. The spring has yet to come and this is the Coldest winter since the first,” he said.

  “You failed!” the Voice screamed in his ear as a cold gust of winter blew so hard across Kal-Dovean they even penetrated to this deepest room in the fortress of the King of Night.

  “How do I destroy this thing,” Edmund looked from his scar to the Anchor.

  “The Sun Blood must die,” the voice said.

  “I know,” Edmund said, looking back to his wound, speaking to it, speaking to the Voice, “I could find her once, I can send more, more after her, give me the power I need,” he begged.

  “My creators protect her,” the Voice said.

  “Goddesses have no power in this world, not during winter, not this winter,” Edmund said.

  “The Hunters must fall,”

  “My Stalkers have killed the Order, save for their last. He is one man, one man we’ve already killed, we can kill him again,” Edmund thought of the vision he had a Hunter dead, then risen back to life by one of those damn Unicorns, taking it as steed back to that bitch born of the sun.

  “If you are the bringer of the new world, bring it yourself,” the Voice said.

  “How, tell me, damn you!” Edmund hissed, “We’re after the same thing, You know I’m not one for the aid of a deity, you knew that when you came to me, as much as I despise your kind and your ways of manipulating man's world, I see fit to work with you, I’m helping you, now damn you help me,” he commanded with the authority that could only be carried by the King of Night.

  “Bring the Sun Blood, kill her with your own hands, put your hands on her throat, choke the sun from this world with your own might, that is how you bring the winter,” it said.

  “Very well, my cause is just, one girl being killed is nothing compared to the world I will build once we are free of the Goddesses, I will let your will loose, I will let you make your claim to this land so long as you promise that once you have what you wish, once you have your winter without end, you let the men who are capable thrive in it,” he said.

  “Mortal concerns, mean nothing,” the Voice had this kind of uncaring tone to it, as if it cared not what this one single man was trying to build, only wanting the world free from their creators and not caring what that failed creation of man would do with the husk of land left over after it was done.

  “Maybe not to you, the voice in my head, you damn monster, know that once I finish what I need to do, our truce is done. If you try to play for this world I will be more than ready to raise an army against you just as I do now against the Goddesses. There is to be no force that controls this world other than us, none other than man,” he said.

  “Your terms are… acceptable,” the voice said, casually agreeing to the demands of this petty mortal.

  “My terms are demanded,” Edmund said, “No salvation above or below, only man, only strength will rule this world, I will carve from the ice a land where man is free of any responsibilities of worship, of the Goddesses or of you, only then can we be free, free of the machinations you and your supposed creators. Know that the men your actions make will bow to no one,” Edmund said.

  “Except you?” the Voice said, sounding almost as if he was smiling.

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  “Someone must lead, this is a time of change, and great change requires a great hand, I will not demand they kneel to me, that's not the world I’m building. If they kneel to me, it will be out of respect and not fear of some divine punishment. I will never punish the people who follow me. I’ve wounded myself time and again to try to give them the world they need. If they would just follow me, realize there is no solace, not from the Goddesses, and definitely not from you, I will show them a better way, a way where a man makes his own warmth, for a man only deserves as much warmth as he can make for himself. I agree with your terms, Voice, I agree that uncaring from you outweighs any potential blessing the Goddesses say they will give us, so go on, don’t care about us, don’t benefit us, go on and let our lives be harder, I invite it,” he said, looking up not even knowing if the sky was where this voice baiting him was located.

  “Very well, kill the Sun blood, make your world,” the voice said.

  Edmund shook his head and threw the voice from his ears. He sheathed his sword, and put the Anchor back in its chest, locking it and leaving the small chamber, ready to address his Dark Stalkers.

  “Prepare a Parliament of owls, send one to every city, the Family Gailech, the King of Night, seeks to bring the turning, and wishes to have the Sun Blood’s attendance, the Giran family’s last scion wherever they are. Send a message of peace, a message of tradition, use the traditional seal that one family sends the other when it comes time for the turning,” he said.

  “My lord, the Sun Blood-”

  “The Sun Blood will come to any opportunity to turn winter to spring, they will come, and when they do, a season will end, and there will be a new beginning,” Edmund said.

  “My lord, the last turning was attacked, where can we safely meet, if the shadows come again and kill not just the Sun Blood but you, the seasons themselves will be in chaos,” one of the younger Dark Stalker soldiers said. He was new to the order and didn’t have the knowledge of the destiny Edmund promised the more inducted of his order.

  “I told you, a season will end, I must see the Sun Blood, and all will know that a season has ended, and a new world is beginning,” Edmund took a deep breath, “Do as I command, ready yourselves for the greatest battle we will ever see.”

  Chapter Ten

  Induction

  Halfway to the mountains, as the sky darkened and the great white crescent moon rose above them, Cailean pulled the boys to the side of the road and set up a small fire.

  “Isn’t this dangerous?” Luris said, “What if a creature comes?” he asked as the other two boys took the time to get off their feet and rest as Cailean took some dry kindling from his saddlebag. “You boys ever start a fire?” Cailean asked as he took flint and steel from his pocket.

  “All the time,” Hurlorn said, “No Dad, we had to start our own fires,” he smiled.

  “Good, then we’ve already passed the first lesson,” Cailean said, blowing gently on the few sparks that hit his kindling and began to spark a fire.

  “Fire repels the monsters, that’s why it's harder to light in winter,” Cailean tended to the fire and it slowly began to grow into a blaze. “I’ve already been through this section of woods twice in my journey this season, we’re not in Ursaling territory, they’re usually deeper in the thickets, I’ve seen no tracks or droppings of Knife Wolves, no graves nearby,” with his fire secured, Cailean rose and approached a tree on the side of the road, “Who knows what kind of tree this is?” he asked.

  “Dogwood,” Dewman said, using the knowledge he learned one spring when the boys worked as hands for a lumberman.

  “Woodscrapers live in Elms and another breed of them in oak, they're bigger and more tightly packed so they can move through their roots, we’re safe here,” Cailean said, impressing the impressionable boys with his vast knowledge of monsters. He approached the fire again, and put another log on it, “The fire helps as well. Warmth is a repellent to monsters, that's why it's so hard to strike fire in winter,” he said, taking a knee and warming himself.

  Hurlorn joined the Hunt Master by the fire, “Master Hunter-”

  “Just call me Cailean,” he said, eyes staring at the fire, “I hope this doesn’t make you rethink your decision to join, but I’ve been a master for just a week's worth of time, just took my rites, had no intention of ever earning this rank. I’ve fallen into it. The Spring needed me, so I heeded her call,” he said, then laughed.

  “Cailean,” Dewman said, taking a seat on his other side, “How many winters have you served?” he asked.

  “I studied for three years before I took the oath as a hunter, but truth told, this is my first Winter under the rights, and it’s been a mighty challenging one,” he said.

  “Your first winter, but you’re a Hunt Master, I thought a Hunt Master had to have years of experience, I thought you looked young, but you wear an Ursaling Coat. Only the greatest Hunters have a trophy like that,” he said, warming himself along with his brothers.

  “I have earned this coat, Slayed an Ursaling matriarch with my own sword,” Cailean took a deep breath and stayed staring at the fire.

  “What was it like,” Luris asked, “I can’t think of anything I’d like to see less than a charging Ursailng, they’re as big as three men, with more teeth than anything in the woods, how do you fight something like that with just a sword and shield,” he asked, rubbing his hands together as the four hunters warmed themselves by the fire.

  “That’s what you’re going to learn. Don’t worry, I won't go throwing you in front of one, not until you're ready at least,” Cailean said.

  “How will we know if we’re ready?” Dewman asked.

  “You’ll just know,” Cailean said, “I thought I wasn’t ready, but,” Cailean lifted the Ursaling hood over his head, “Apparently I was,” he said.

  “How long till we say our oaths, become true hunters?” Hurlorn got comfortable, ready to hear all the words of wisdom the mighty Winter Hunter could imbue on them.

  “Being a hunter is more than the oath,” Cailean said, “The Oath is a tool, words we hold to ourselves to aid us in our mission, the oath can give you strength not unlike a vigor or a good night's sleep, you become a hunter true when you survive your first encounter, mine was a wood scraper,” he said.

  “Wood Scrapers, the things that live in trees, did you kill it?” he asked.

  “No, I didn’t, I dodged away from it, and a brother took its claw to the throat, and he died in my arms,” Cailean said, “My first master, he had me say the oath, had me remember what I had promised the world when I took up the sword, I am a Winter Hunter,” Cailean said.

  “I am the first line against the terrible cold,” Hurlorn said, every young boy with dreams of glory in his heart knew those sacred words.

  “I fight for those with nothing, and those with even less,” Dewman added.

  “Against threats so old, threats without names,” Luris said

  The four said the last line in unison as the fire popped and crackled between them, “Be those threats one or a thousand,”

  “I will see the spring is found,” Cailean finished, then looked up at the boys, “Consider yourselves inducted, no backing out now,” he said.

  “When will we meet the other Hunters, surely you fight in a pack, and you said we’ll be meeting the druids?” Luris said, his warming hands wringing on his pants.

  “You are the other Hunters,” Cailean said.

  “What do you mean? Master?” Dewman said.

  “There is a great darkness this winter, those who stalk the dark, have you ever heard of them, that other order who’ve hid themselves behind cloak and shadow?” Cailean asked.

  “Those who stalk the dark, no, no they’re a legend, they’re an old wives tale,” Luris said.

  “Oh, the Dark Stalkers are all too real, my first kill was a Dark Stalker, not a monster but a man, and man can be the most dangerous threat in a winter as cold as this,” Cailean said. “Dark Stalkers have returned, and they’re hunting hunters, hunting us, they’ve gone throughout this land and have been picking us off,” he looked up at the boys, “Know that you may find yourselves fighting a Dark Stalker, and they are deadlier than any monster you could ever hope to face,” he said, “This is a winter they’ve been preparing generations for, they think this a winter without end, they seek a world where the Goddesses kiss of spring never graces our skin again,” Cailean looked up, “A moon that never sets, and a sun that never rises, they think our time is over, think that the people should forsake our Goddesses, and turn to those who stalk the dark,” Cailean took his short sword out and pushed one of the logs on the fire, sending a bevy of sparks up in the air, “Our order has been reduced to the four of us, and maybe a scant few survivors wherever they are,” he said.

  “Winter without end, you didn’t tell us that-” Luris spoke up, but Cailean cut him off.

  “If you wouldn’t have signed up under those conditions, you wouldn’t be a true hunter,” Cailean shot the young boy a look, “I didn’t ask to be plunged into this winter, none of us did, but I did ask to be a Hunter, to have the honor of joining this order, that’s why I couldn’t tell you, now you know what’s at stake,” Cailean said, “From talking to people I realized that the news hadn’t made it to your village yet,” Cailean sheathed his sword, “King Giran is dead,” Cailean said, “I was witness to the turning, I saw the Sun King and his daughters butchered by living shadows, Winter is making a play this season, they tried to wring the sun blood from this world so that the seasons could never turn again,” he said.

  “No Sun King, but without him how-” This time Dewman was cut off by the Hunt Master.

  “The Sun Blood is but a trickle, Giran had a spare daughter, a maiden of the sun unknown to the darkness,” Cailean smiled, “A beautiful princess of warmth and love, I protected her, took her to safety in the severed mountains. As we warm ourselves here, she is studying the ways of turning. Studying so that when this horrible war of winter is over, she can take the mantle of the spring and bring back the warmth of the Goddesses she descends from,” Cailean said.

  “So she’s with the Druids, she’s safe?” Luris asked.

  “She’s with the Druid, one left as far as I know,” Cailean said.

  “The Druids are supposed to be an order as important as the Winter Hunters, you’re telling us there's just one Druid in all the land?” Dewman asked.

  “Far as I know,” Cailean repeated, “The master Druid will be able to teach you much, when you meet him, listen to him, follow him, respect him,” Cailean said, then smiled, “He may seem like a crazy old man when you first meet him, but he is wiser then he lets on,” Cailean said.

  “So, no Hunters, and one Druid,” Hurlorn nodded, “I’m up for it, I’ll follow you into any battle Huntmaster,” he put a hand on Cailean’s shoulder.

  “I’m in too. If we’re to be hunters, I know I fight with my brothers,” Dewman added, the two then looked to Luris.

  Luris gulped, and nodded, “We’re going to be Winter Hunters, we all made promises back in town, we have to see it through,” he said.

  “Good to know,” Cailean said, “Take your rest tonight, I’ll be alert for monsters,” he said.

  “You’re not going to sleep?” Luris asked.

  “Not going to sleep, but Meditate,” Cailean said, “Meditation is one of the things you’ll learn as you begin your journey as hunters. It’s something I plan to teach you, a Winter Hunter can find a full night's sleep in just half a rest in Meditation, but be warned, when you meditate you can see things,” Cailean looked back to the fire. He saw the red coals at the center of the flames, red that resembled the shade of that conniving lady who had asked so much of him in his time as a Hunter.

  “What kind of things?” Hurlorn asked. Of the three boys, he had seemed the most eager to learn the ways of the Winter Hunters and most excited at the idea of becoming a great hero of legend.

  Cailean took a deep breath, “What do you boys know of a Goddess called the Red Lady?” he asked.

  “Red Lady, I’ve heard of her,” Luris said, “There's a saying, may the Red Lady take you, I’ve heard traders say it to each other before one goes on a long journey, or when one screws another on a deal,” he said.

  “The Red Lady is, complicated,” Cailean said, “She is the Goddess of war, and we are in a war,” Cailean looked up for the fire and into the eyes of the three boys, “Winter Hunters are the Red Lady’s chosen champions, it was said that it was with her guidance that our Order was first founded and trained,” he said.

  “So we fight for the Red Lady, will she guide us?” Hurlorn asked.

  “She guides us in spirit, but pray you never see her before your time,” Cailean shook his head, “To see the Red Lady burdens you with a debt,” he took a deep breath, remembering his conversations with that blood-red-haired Goddess.

  “Before our time?” Dewman asked.

  “Before you get killed by a creature,” Cailean sat up, and leaned in closer to the fire, his eyes locked on the core of burning wood, “When a Winter Hunter dies, he is visited by the Red Lady. In repayment for his services to the cause of Spring, in the next life A winter Hunter lays with the Red Lady and calls her his woman,” he said, “Pray you don’t see her before that happens,” he said.