Chapter Twenty

  Maiden of the Sun

  Cailean took the lead, the boys following him keeping a tight circle around Gwen as the streets of the city seemed to be devoid of bustling and goings on a town the size of Mythis should have. Even though it was winter, a city this large should be thriving with trade, but all citizens were holed up in their homes. Fearful so long as the Prince of Night and his soldiers of the dark were here. As they made their way through the city they passed a few of those Dark Stalkers. Men glared at them, seemingly positioned in the most strategic allies and backpasses one could navigate the city through. They rested their hands on the hilts of steel swords mounted to their belts. Their skin was pale, hair dark, slicked back resembling how the Prince of Night styled his own hair.

  “I really don’t like this, the hairs on my neck are standing,” Luris said, looking to the Huntmaster.

  “I doubt it, but let's at least see if he’ll give us a chance for the turning,” Cailean said.

  “Where should we meet,” Dewman said, clinging to the bow hanging over his shoulder.

  “I think there,” Hurlorn said as the three turned a corner on the road and saw a great bonfire burning at the center of the city square.

  “This is where my family was killed,” Gwen said, stepping up to stay less than a pace behind her guardian Cailean.

  In front of the great bonfire, glowing that same kind of orange that the dusk sky had as the sun was setting early. There stood a squad of four dark stalkers, all resting hands on hilts of steel blades, and in the center was the Prince of Night. He had made his return to Mythis well known it seemed. At his feet was a great oak chest with two locks, one of steel and one of bronze.

  “Is that the anchor?” Gwen asked.

  “We can only hope,” Cailean said, he turned to the boys and gave them a nod and a look, trying to help them keep up their resolve. Cailean approached the great stage. In this army of Dark Stalkers, he had three Winter Hunters behind him, hardly an order by comparison. Behind the last vestiges of the Winter Hunter order was the Maiden of the sun, the last born to carry the great glowing blood of the Goddess’s blessing.

  “Hail, Winter Hunters,” Edmund said, looking down from the stage upon the group of fools who had led the object of his offense right to him. He stepped forward, a hand rested on his steel sword, “I am Edmund Gailech, the descendant of the first King of Winter, inheritor of the night, and just and due ruler over the people of this land so long as the moon outpaces the sun,” he gave Cailean a nod, recognizing the Hunt Master he had thought he already killed.

  “I am Cailean, and I am a Winter Hunter,” Cailean said, stepping to the first step on the stage, “The people have suffered winter enough, the time has come for the turning of seasons, for the Goddesses will be known, and for the people of this city and all the land to feel their blessing again,” Cailean said.

  Edmund lifted his free hand and snapped his fingers. Two Dark Stalkers took the keys provided to them, one of steel and one of bronze, and unlocked the chest, revealing the dimly glowing sphere inside, the Anchor, the lynchpin of the Goddesses' influence in this world.

  Cailean walked up to the stage, standing tall against the Prince of Night, “Your rule has come to an end, as it will always come to an end, you are here to steward the people back to the rule of the Sun Blood, back to the spring, correct?” he asked.

  “I am here to see the turning of the season,” Edmund said. He looked over Cailean’s shoulder, past the trio of winter hunters that were brought here. His eyes met with Gwen's, and while he was carrying a liar's smile, Gwen could see there was nothing more than pure hatred in his eyes as he looked upon the one thing standing in the way of his great quest to sever this world from deity. He turned back to Cailean, “So I take it this is the Winter Hunter order? Is this the proud force of might that says it can protect the good people of this land from the horrors of winter?” a cocky grin came across his lips. A scant four men were all that stood between himself, and wrapping his hands around that accursed sun-kissed maiden’s neck. Killing four men would be child’s play for the army of darkness he had brought to this city.

  “It is,” Cailean said, stepping forward, getting within striking range of the Prince of Night. The two met eyes, the Prince of Night and the Hunt Master. “I’ve only been to one turning, and the ceremonies were interrupted, right after your father took the anchor. Can I trust nothing like that is going to happen?” Cailean asked, he also had his hand rested on his blade, the Bronze longsword hanging off the left side of his belt. For a moment Cailean thought about drawing his blades and taking the first hit he could get to try to end the tyranny of the Prince of Night. His eyes darted to the four Dark Stalkers behind Edmund, all with hands on their blades. If Edmund was as well trained as a Dark Stalker, he would probably draw his sword just as fast, block the blow, and the Winter Hunters would be slaughtered in quick work this close together.

  Edmund turned to Gwen, and that false smile still on his face grew, “Maiden of the Sun, cousin,” he smiled, “You honor us with your presence, may we see the last turning,” he said as the anchor was brought to him and placed in his hand, “As the Steward though this season of cold, I offer you the anchor of the world, the show that man has paid his debt to the Goddesses, and once again deserves their blessing,” he said, holding the orb in one hand. “Come, oh maiden of the sun,” he held the orb out, “Take my duty from me, relieve me of this bowing I give the Goddesses,” he said.

  Gwen took a step forward, and the three Winter Hunters stayed around her. She took a deep breath, and a line of steam came from her mouth, “I accept your gift, cousin,” she said as she held her hand out.

  “With this, the turning ends,” Edmund took a calculated move. It was said that the pomp and ceremony men would dance around with had no bearing on the turning of spring to winter or winter to spring, he put his hand forward and placed the Anchor in Gwendolyn’s hand.

  “So that’s it then,” he said, reluctantly taking his hand off the Anchor. “You have it now, you have the spring, you can bring the spring if you are capable,” he smiled. The Voice had told him that this ceremony would be no great boon, the turning happened by the will of the Goddesses, and with the Sun Blood decimated it would not have the kind of effect on this world they would have before.

  “We welcome your attempt, maiden of the sun,” the Four Dark Stalkers behind Edmund drew their blades, “But as you have the Anchor, and the air is still cold, and the sun is still setting, the spring is not coming, you haven’t stopped this, this world is still vicious and brutal, you haven’t won,” he said, taking a step back.

  In response Cailean drew his long sword, Hurlorn drew his pair of axes and Dewmen threw his bow off his shoulder. Cailean shoved Gwen back as she held tight to the anchor, she landed in Luris’s arms and he drew his blade up as a wild Dark Stalker lusted for the little sun-kissed girl. Luris spun, throwing Gwen to safety as he threw up his shield arm, blocking the Dark Stalker’s stab. With the Stalker thrown back by the force of Luris’s block, Luris slashed his blade. He caught the Dark Stalker in the gut, ripping through his stomach and staining the stage with blood.

  “Hold together,” Cailean said, jumping back and forming a wall with the other Hunters around Gwen. She held tight to the Anchor as the Dark Stalkers descended on them. The four entered a great melee, slashes, blocks, and stabs. Cailean used his blade to push one of the attackers to the ground and tried to even their odds by drawing his short sword and slashing it at the Dark Stalker’s neck falling him as the circle of hunters continued to fall back.

  Edmund didn’t move from the stage, he just watched. He had trained his soldiers, he knew that a scant four men would be nothing compared to the might of those who stalked the dark. The time for heroes was over, it was high time they cemented that by wiping out the Winter Hunter order once and for all.

  As the Winter Hunters stayed locked together, Hurlorn felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand, and he turned from the fight and brought his axes up together to form a shield as an arrow soared toward him, shattering on impact, though its steel tip left a dent int he bronze of his weapon.

  “They have archers,” he called out.

  “Split up, stay wide, I’ll protect Gwen,” Cailean said, sheathing his short sword and grabbing Gwen’s hand, pulling her away as a bevy of steel-tipped arrows fell upon them. He pulled on Gwen’s hand and with his senses acting in this moment of peak danger he slashed at the air with his longsword, cutting a steel arrow out of the air as he pulled Gwen to an ally way.

  “There are too many of them, I have the Anchor, damn it this should be enough,” Gwen put both her hands on the sphere and tried to use everything she had spent a month learning trying to bring the spring from it.

  “You heard what Edmund said, the Goddesses care not about our petty traditions, if we’re going to bring the spring back we need more than some totem, we need a victory,” Cailean held his swords up, “We have to kill the Prince of the Night, show the Goddesses that man will still fight for the world they want to give us,” he said.

  “You’re going to go out there, against an army, you and three boys against a legion of killers,” Gwen shook her head.

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  “Remember what you’ve learned, we’re Winter Hunters,” Cailean said, “Remember your oath,” he turned to Gwen, “We can win this,” Cailean said, “Goddess help us, Red Lady watching us, we can stop them here, I’m going to kill Edmund and rend the Voice from this world,” Cailean said, “Stay behind me, I am your shield and nothing will stop me,” Cailean turned to the war before him, “Have at me, Red Lady,” he said under his breath.

  The boys jumped back and spread to other positions of defense. Arrows reigned down from the air around them. Most hit the ground, some were blocked, and some were able to come dangerously close to a killing blow. Shields and dodges the boys made were able to abate the cold that would come should the Order fall today.

  The boys found an ally bereft of windows and snipe points.

  “So now would be a good time for any of us to say they saw the Red Lady, wouldn’t it,” Luris said, heart most likely pounding harder than the blacksmith hammer that crafted the bronze blade he held in his left hand.

  Dewman knocked an arrow. “You two get out there and take them in melee, while you’re scraping I’ll aim for the roofs and try to take down their support,” he said.

  “We’ve killed monsters together, you saw how vicious they were, a man can’t come close to that. If we can beat a monster, we can beat them,” Hurlorn said, getting his axes ready to enter the melee, he looked back to his brothers and smiled, “Let the Red Lady have at us,” he grinned as he ran out, weaving to left and right, drawing arrows that couldn’t touch him as he rushed to a Dark Stalker and used every bit of the small training he hand to weave his weapons to dodge and block blows before embedding his axe in the Stalker’s head, killing one of the many and maybe increasing their odds of victory by just enough.

  Dark Stalkers began to emerge from every back ally and from behind every building, rushing them with Steel Swords drawn and blood in their eyes. Hurlorn, remembering his training, took a position at a narrow ally with his back to a dead end, incapable of being flanked, and would funnel his opponents to no more than two at a time. Cailean had run the boys through practice in two-on-one conflicts, doing so knowing that the Dark Stalkers would outnumber them if a confrontation were to come against that force of night. “Come on, good luck stalking the dark when we bring the light of spring,” Hurlorn said, taking a defensive position, one Axe up, the other crossed with it. A Stalker lunged at him and, remembering the fight against the Argler Buck, Hurlon anticipated and dodged. He whipped his axe up and slashed the stalker along the back. Hurlorn laughed, after fighting monsters, humans were nothing. Man was so much weaker than a monster. Had a Ursaling taken a wound like that it would have shaken it off without a care, instead the Dark Stalker fell and began to write on the ground. Hurlorn turned and kept his weapons up. Another stalker, another wild strike. It was then Hurlorn realized the weakness of these men, as he caught the blow in the arc of his axe and slammed it to the ground as he swung his other hand and brought the broad side of his blade along their throat, gashing it open. These Dark Stalkers had great armor, and those high-quality weapons of steel, but they lacked training. They didn’t fight monsters and they certainly didn’t fight men. They wore great trappings and had spent the winter merely intimidating enemies, intimidating them enough to avoid a real fight or any real danger. Hurlorn doubted if any of these Stalkers had even had the honor of going on a hunt.

  Another stalker, another wild swing Hurlorn was able to dodge, weave to the side, bury his axe in the Stalker’s side, and rip it out in a trail of blood, falling another. Two more came for him, and with both arms outstretched he caught one’s blade and caught another under the ribs. Hurlorn didn’t know what was going through him, his training had proven useful but there was something more. Perhaps it was the Red Lady smiling on him, giving him her blessing to enter this war. He entered Melee with a Stalker, his arms feeling as though they moved on their own as he blocked a reign of blows, his arm and the weapon he was holding feeling as they moved on their own. He grabbed the sword with one axe and brought the other up to trap it between his weapons he slammed it down and swung his left hand up to embed in the chin of the Dark Stalker.

  More were coming, but Hurlorn stayed resilient, “Your darkness is over, the spring will come!” he said, charging into battle as an arrow came sailing through the air and caught a Stalker attacking at Hurlorn’s flank in the eye. Hurlorn looked over his shoulder and saw Dewman, bow off his shoulder already pulling another bronze-tipped arrow out to knock and ready for a loose.

  Out of nowhere, Luris leaped and with his shield up blocked a steel arrow headed right for Dewman, “They have archers on roofs fall back,” Luris called out, keeping his shield up as his eyes scanned over the roofs. He spotted at least five archers.

  Dewman went to draw again but had to dodge as an arrow came right for him. Luris Charged forward keeping his shield up to guard from the bevy of arrows as Luris tried to draw fire. In the next bevy, he caught three on his shield, steel-tipped arrows embedded in his wooden shield.

  Dewman tried to take aim at one of the roof-mounted snipers, but just before he loosed his arrow, one shot came for him, and he had to dodge behind one of the buildings, his shoot was crooked and he had wasted an arrow he couldn’t afford to lose. He reached for another one. If he loosed an arrow, it would need to make contact. He had to get rid of those archers, Dewman and Luris may have been able to hold their own against the men on the ground, but an arrow could get a killing shot without them even seeing it.

  “Steel up, focus, remember your training,” Dweman said to himself. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to focus. “Five archers, they’re high up but they're uncovered. Dewan swallowed his nerve and opened his eyes. Snow had started to fall, gently wafting to the ground, Dewman looked, and it appeared as if the snow wasn’t falling, but just hovering in mid-air. Wafting in the winds rather than falling straight to the ground. Cailean had told him about this during their first hunt, to be able to feel winter, to close your mind away from all things and become one with the hunt. Dewman was hunting tonight, and his prey was not a monster, but a man. He reached over his shoulder for another arrow, “Feel the winter, become one with it,” as time slowed down around him, he remembered the location of each Stalker archer and calculated the various threats they posed and the ranges they could reach. Three were too far away to worry about, once he exposed himself there would only be two within range. He had to close that range, he fully drew his arrow and focused. His heartbeat slowed, and he let his instincts take over. He emerged from behind the building and without even looking and training his shot he loosed an arrow. It sailed through the air and caught one of the Stalker Archers in mid-knock. Dewman didn’t even look to see if he hit his target, he knew he did. As the flakes fell around him he knocked another arrow in a fluid motion, letting his next shot fly and picking off another sniper just as he let his arrow fly, knocking his shot out of target as it struck nothing but ground next to Luris.

  As Hurlorn continued to channel the Ravager style his way up the city’s main road, taking two, sometimes even three Stalkers at a time. Luris found himself in combat with a Steel Great Sword. It reigned blows on him and Luris favored his shield, feeling rocked with every blow it gave him.

  “Your time ends, embrace the winter!” the Stalker said as he tried to find his great steel sword an opening in Luris’s expert defensive plays. The young Hunter spun on his ankle, his shield sliding up the blade as he came around and acted on pure instinct, finding his opening and ramming his bronze short sword in the Stalker’s back. The Stalker felt a shooting pain go through him, and dropped his blade, falling to his knees.

  Hurlorn came up and congratulated Luris, “Nice one, still more though,” he said, getting his axes in a defensive position as he stood back to back with his brother.

  “Where’s the Master?” Luris asked, “We have to bring the Spring back, he needs to keep her safe, how many of them are there?” Luris asked.

  “One less now, we got to keep up,” Hurlorn said as an arrow flew through the air, breezing right past them and catching another Stalker in the eye as Dewman approached them, knocking another arrow like he was a man possessed.

  “To your left!” Dewman said as Luris turned and raised his shield, taking another arrow in it as Hurlorn stayed behind him.

  Dewman loosed his arrow, sending it sailing through the air and picking off another Dark Stalker sniper. “We’re winning,” Dewman said, “Keep the pressure on,” like a man possessed he knocked another arrow, and with inhuman accuracy, as if his arrow was guided by the Red Lady herself, he took out another archer, “One shooter left, I’ll try to take him out, but watch out for him,” Dewman said drawing another arrow and turning around like he knew what was coming before he even saw it, and shooting another charging Dark Stalker before he could even get close to the three.

  “Keep hitting them, I saw Cailean go into the magistrate's building, as many of them are here, he’s fighting just as many in there,” Dewman drew another arrow and picked off another rushing and violent Stalker. “The Master is going for the Prince of Night, we may end this winter here and now,” Dewman said, “I’ll find the snipers, you two keep taking care of their ground game,” he said, knocking another arrow and running back.

  “Sounds like a plan,” Hurlorn said, looking over his shoulder to Luris, “Keep your shield up, you’re good with it,” he smiled.

  “Are we going to die?” Luris asked.

  “If we do, it will be glorious, and it will be for the spring,” Hurlorn said, “For Fiona,” Hurlorn nodded, thinking about that girl he so badly wanted to marry if he found a way out of this great conflict, “Have at me Red Lady!” he shouted running to another Dark Stalker wielding dual short swords. Two weapons against two weapons. He blocked, faked, and dodged, outplaying the Stalker and entering a fierce melee with him.

  Luris kept his shield up, looking for an opponent, he came across a Dark Stalker with a long spear with a deadly steel tip at the end of it, “You want a go, let's go,” Luris said, his training flashed in his head, he held his shield up, remembered that he was good with a shield. He charged toward the Dark Stalker, who charged as well. He caught the side of the tip with his shield and knocked the spear up. He spun and tried to make a swing with his sword, but was blocked by the staff of the spear. This Stalker seemed to be more trained with his weapon. With his spear up, the Stalker brought it straight down and tried to slice the Winter Hunter. Luris turned, brought his shield up and the shaft slid along his block.

  “He speaks to the Voice, he frees us from the Goddesses,” the Dark stalker said, whipping the tail end of his spear up to try and strike Luris in the jaw as the Winter Hunter leaped back. Luris took a defensive stance, and readied himself for another blow, “You can’t stop the spring any more than man can stop winter,” Luris said, trying to dodge and make another strike that was blocked. “You follow a failure,” Luris began to take the lead in the duel, reigning blows and forcing his opponent to take the defensive position.

  “For the spring!” Luris shouted, bringing all his resolve and will into his blade as he made a desperate strike for his enemy’s opening. His sword was blocked by the but of the spear, but the Stalker left his neck open, and with a wave of his arm, Luris brought the sharpened edge of his shield up and sliced it along the stalker’s neck, ripping it open and pushing him back as the blood drained from his wound. The stalker dropped his spear and brought his hands to his neck and Luris made a killing stab into the Stalker’s side, tackling him to the ground, “I am a Winter Hunter,” he said, “I fight against threats so old,” he pulled his blade out and raised it ready to make another strike “Threats without names,” he gave the Stalker another stab, “I fight for those with nothing and those with even less,” He ripped his sword through the Dark Stalker, “Be those threats one or a thousand, I will see the Spring is found!”