“One stray that perhaps bolted from a cargo ship and ended up here in the woods is hardly worth my while enduring hours of sweat, mud, and rain.”
Talac leaned closer to his companion, ensuring his voice was low. “That was the baby of the litter. There were eight more carcasses in the wagon I observed arriving here this evening, only to disappear into the depths of the mystery fortification across the way.”
“Interesting, that at least explains how Gloomenthrall is able to keep his people fed and dangle dowries in front of desperate fortune seeking gentlemen. But I could just as easily stay behind tomorrow in the… relative warmth of the Keep and subtly question the ladies and servants.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to do both during the coming days, but it doesn’t seem like there are many opportunities to ride with the Beast of Gloomenthrall.”
“Honestly Talac, sometimes I question if you took too many hits to the head during training as a youngster. You’ve seen him now in this hall, he walks on two legs, has a head. Clearly the Beast is nothing but a mere man. A mortal, like you and I. Yet you insist upon pursuing the subject further. I suspect boredom is what motivates you this time. Get a hobby, I say. Or a warm willing woman. Not here though… I fear you’d be forcibly wed before the sweat of passion dried on your skin if you were to choose that option.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed how closely we’re being watched. That’s another reason to go on the hunt. In all that chaos it will prove fertile ground for the two of us to ferret out more information from our fellow hunters. You say he’s a mortal man. But those pilgrims on the road spoke of the Beast as part saviour, part judge and jury. And you witnessed the faceoff, just what leash does his Lordship hold on the Beast? To me it looked like the restrictions chafed. If something happens to Gloomenthrall and he has no male heir, what will a freed Beast do?”
“I’m supposed to care? Gloomenthrall is a long way from Pallene. What occurs in this backwards wilderness will be no concern of mine.”
“No?” Talac smirked. “So, when the supply of skins to make your favourite coats run out, will you just brush it off? And as you get older, what about your heart, and other more… treasured parts of your anatomy? Without the aid of the vital ingredient, all those elixirs the doctors prescribe are going to prove less than invigorating.”
“I hate you sometimes. And I know Raschion will despise you when it comes time to clean the mud, sweat, and probable blood from my hunting clothes once we’re done with this ridiculous quest of yours.”
Talac looked around at the all but suddenly empty great hall. His Lordship had retired for the evening. And his latest wife was still recovering from childbirth. The gentleman suitors had disappeared off to find their beds. Whilst the ladies had been escorted upstairs to their chambers under the watchful gaze of their more elderly relatives. Leaving only a few servants behind to clear away the mess and right the hall in readiness for tomorrow morning.
Slapping Brandth on the back, Talac motioned him to start for the stairs. “Best we seek some rest, my friend. Come tomorrow, we ride with the Beast of Gloomenthrall.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen you this excited in years. What is it about the Beast that has you so enthralled?”
“Just a feeling. I’ve always enjoyed unravelling mysteries and my gut is telling me that this one will prove…” He meant to say interesting, but his mouth had other plans. “… life-changing.”
“Ah, your famous, never been wrong gut, huh? I have a six inch scar across my back thanks to your gut. How could uncovering the mysteries entrenched in this dank pile of stones surrounded by nothing but endless woods, hills, and bottomless caves have any impact upon you or I?”
“I don’t know. But my gut is telling me that it’s vitally important we delve further into the secrets of Gloomenthrall.”
“Please, I think your ego just wants to match your skills against the revered Beast.”
Talac couldn’t hide his grin. Yes, that’s exactly what he yearned for, a challenge. The circumstances of his birth had meant he’d had to work harder and train longer than any other to earn his position and the respect of his men. On his travels with Brandth, Talac acted the stealthy spy. Fought off bandits. Actively sought out and vanquished any potential threat to the Vallas Realm’s peace and prosperity. All in the name of the King.
Just once, right here, right now, Talac intended to do something for himself. Unmask the Beast. Uncover all the secrets surrounding the legend. And most importantly of all, discover why his gut was insisting that if he failed in his endeavours here, he would rue it until the day he died.
Crud, it seems this place was insidious, the gloom sinking into his thoughts and turning them fancifully dark and foreboding. Enough. Talac wanted nothing more than to seek out that lumpy sofa Brandth was insisting he sleep upon, dawn could not come soon enough.
Following Brandth into their shared room, Talac paused, stepping back out into the shadow infested long dark corridor. Looking first one way, then the other. The heavy floral scents giving them away. If he didn’t do something about it now, they would be in for a long night of young ladies knocking at their door, wishing to have a private and heartfelt chat with Brandth, with a view to getting ahead of their competition.
Issuing a low growl before snapping his teeth loudly, Talac scowled menacingly in both directions. “Trust me, Ladies. My bite is much, much worse than my bark, and I guard the door this night.”
Brandth laughed under his breath as Talac entered the room. “Perhaps this mysterious Beast is in need of a good and loyal guard dog.”
“My loyalty is to the King.” Talac growled, heading for the sofa.
Brandth chose to make no response as he began shedding all his hidden weapons and changing for bed. Talac had been the one to mention his instincts were firing. He’d even said his encounters here would potentially prove life-changing. For too long his friend had been stuck in a rut, but it appeared that would soon be a thing of the past.
Hhmmm, suddenly Brandth was a little more invested in this Beast, and helping his good friend expose all of Gloomenthrall’s secrets.
Gods help him, tomorrow, at the crack of dawn, they would hunt with the Beast of Gloomenthrall. Brandth prayed it didn’t turn out to be half as nightmarish an experience as it sounded. But he didn’t hold out much hope, making a mental note to ask Raschion to pack him an additional flask of mead. Brandth’s own gut instincts warning him he was going to need it.
Chapter Three
Alia raced up the stairwell, her bare feet slapping the stone stairs hard, an unwanted breeze surging up and under her only covering, a cotton blanket. Her hair was still wet, making the material cling to her clammily. Ugh. Yes, having a bathhouse located next to the stables was a stellar idea, more so on warmer nights than this though. Pity she couldn’t have lingered in the bath. But by the time she’d finished brushing down Dominio, her horse, the moon was dipping low in the sky. And all she wanted was to seek out her bed and rest her sore and weary bones.
Happily, she didn’t bump into anyone as she rounded the last bend, sprinting for her room. It had been a long night. Actually, it had been a long eight days of hunting. Keymoats were dumb creatures, but swift of foot and when spooked, had a tendency to either try to ram you with their impressive horns, scramble to the nearest high ground, or disappear into the depths of a dank cave.
Even with several of their group sprayed in musk extracted from a female keymoat, it had been a mad undignified scrabble to corner and slay nine of the creatures. One short of their goal.
