Hunter's Beginning (Veller) (23 page)

“If I wanted to do chores I would have stayed at home.” Timmy commented. Tree just smiled and pointed to the eastern gate. It was clear what he meant, if you wanted to stay home you can
simply go home, no one was forcing you to stay.

“Is there another kitchen?” Alex asked.

“No, not that I’m aware of.” Tree replied a bit confused.

“Well
… what happens in the winter? Surely they don’t expect you to walk that distance in the snow, what do you do then?”

“You walk in snow.”

“Well that’s stupid, why put the kitchen all the way out here?”

“For the simple fact of
fire. If the kitchen suddenly went up in flames, they don’t want it to take out the entire building.” Tree replied with a shrug.

“Have you ever had a fire here?”

“As a matter of fact there was, during my second year here.”

“In the kitchen?”

“No, in one of the classrooms, come on, there is still much to see.” Tree said as he led them to the main building.

“So how do we know what chores we have?” Daniel asked.

“Oh, you’ll know. There’s a board outside of Oblum office that has the list of chores and the cadet that are assigned to them for that week, and you had better be where you are supposed to be when you’re supposed to be there.”

“How do they choose chores?”

“It's a really involved process, you see they have to evaluate your strengths and weakness, your general ability and knowledge, take into consideration your height, weight and hair color, what part of the country you came from, whether you eat your bread buttered side up or down. Then they will painstakingly separate which cadets are suited for which assignments, then there’s the entire process of setting up time schedules and workloads, it's really quite complicated.”

“Really?” Alex asked in awe.

“No of course not, they pick your name at random and you’re assigned whatever chores are left.”

“We can’t pick our own?”

“Not for first or second years. Survive until your third year and then you can choose which assignments you want, although there are a few exceptions. I know this one guy, he came from a family of bakers, straight from the main streets of Littenbeck, man he could cook, put all these guys to shame.”

“So he worked in the kitchen?”

“Maintenance and cleaning.” Tree said as he stopped in front of a huge set of oak doors strapped with wrought iron hinges. He turned to face the group, standing tall and clasping his hands behind his back as Oblum had addressed them last night.

“Behind these doors is the true academy. It is here you will learn the essential of becoming a
Hunter, you will learn to read and write as well, arithmetic, logistics, strategy, history, culture and everything else that you will need to know when you are out on your own in the wild trying to survive. Unfortunately the majority of it is as boring as sin.”

Tree pushed the doors open as they entered the main building and stood in the grand hall of the academy. It was a vast room, two stories high with a vaulted ceiling supported by massive stone pillars. There was a wide staircase that ran opposite the door ending
up on a landing then branches off into opposite directions. The walls were lined with the portraits of men and shelves of curiosities as well as an assortment of banners and weapons all proudly displayed.

“This is the history of the
Hunters.” Tree said with an encompassing sweep of his arms. “Everything here has a story to tell, every picture is a Hunter who has achieved greatness or has died in the service of the guild. Every sword, every banner, every item in this room is a part of the history, and now it’s a part of your history. By the time you leave this academy, you will have learned the names and deeds of every Hunter here.”

The boys spread out through the gallery as Kile came up behind Tree.

“And how many do you actually remember?” She asked.

“Not many.” Tree replied with a grin.

“I thought you said we’d learn the names and deeds of all the Hunter’s here.” Carter replied. Of course Carter would want to know all the facts as he stared in awe at the paintings. Kile figured the boy had already staked a claim to a wall where his own portrait would hang.

“I did, but I didn’t say you’d remember them. There are probably only two people at this academy that can tell you the story behind everything here, Master Voreing, the history, culture and political instructor, and Master
Latherby, but… you’ll have to get him on a good day.”

“Why do we have to know
all this stuff anyway?” Murphy asked. There was almost a look of distaste on his face at the thought of having to learn anything that didn’t involve physical violence. “I mean culture, how is that going to help us fight valrik.”

“Answer me this kid” Tree said as he walked up to Murphy and looked him in the eye. “What are the three rules
of dining at the king's table, the three things you have to do so that you don’t insult the king?”

Murphy was completely caught
off guard by the pop quiz as he looked from side to side to see if he could get any help from his fellow cadets. He was so desperate that he even looked to Kile for the help, but she didn’t know the answer, not that she would have told him if she did know, she enjoyed the fact that Murphy was being put on the spot.

“Um… I don’t know.” He finally confessed.

“If you break even one of those rules, the last thing you’ll see is your headless body from the inside of a basket, and that’s only assuming that when the headman chops off your head, it falls face side up.”

Murphy nodded slowly as he backed away from
Tree.

“There aren’t any such rules, are there?” Kile asked when she knew that Murphy was out of earshot.

“I don’t know, there might be.” Tree replied.

“Who’s this guy?” Carter called out from across the gallery, it was clear that he was interested in a large portrait of an even larger man decked out in armor standing on the edge of a
battlefield.

“That, I know him. That’s Quaineess Nyn, the slayer of Gator the Ash Creator.” Tree called out. He walked over to where Carter was standing.

As much as Kile liked Tree, she couldn’t help but wonder how much he really knew about Quaineess Nyn, and whether a Hunter with that name actually existed. She decided to take her own tour around the artifacts as the boys discussed the slaying of Gater, or whatever its name was. It would be interesting to see if it kept the same name by the end of the story.

The pictures of the
Hunters didn’t inspire much hope for her future, they were all large, imposing figures that looked down at her from on high, filling new cadets with unreasonable expectation, become a Hunter and grow three sizes in three years, at least that was a size a year. It all seemed to borderline on the ridiculous. The pictures were nothing more than unobtainable ideals to stroke the egos of the Hunter’s guild, and she doubted if any of the past Hunters looked anything like what their pictures depicted. The weapons were no better as some of the swords looked too large to even lift, let alone wield in combat. It was kind of discouraging as she moved from one exhibit to the next until she arrives at a more modest painting. The man in the portrait was tall, lean and struck a rather dashing pose. She had to reach over the table to wipe the plaque in order to read the name. If cadets were actually responsible for cleaning, they weren’t doing a very good job.

“Doesn’t look anything like me, does it?”

Kile turned around quickly, almost knocking over a few of the artifacts on the table as she stared up at the Guild Master. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her, but then she wasn’t really paying much attention to anything around her but the exhibits, she wasn’t even aware that Tree and the boys were no longer in the main gallery.

“Master Latherby.” She managed to squeak out as she set one of the displays upright.

“Oh, enough with the Master stuff.” He replied, still looking up at the painting. “I never understood why, or even when that started. In my time it would have just been Mathew… in fact it still is.”

Kile wasn’t sure if the man was talking to her, or his picture. Now that she saw the two together, there was a resemblance, but the picture was definitely more flattering.

“Rather imposing, aren’t they?” He said looking around the room.

“Yes sir.”

“Don’t exactly see a place in here for you, do you?”

The question kind of hit her hard as that was what she was thinking, would her portrait ever hang in this gallery.
She wasn’t sure whether the question was directed to her, or at her, it was hard to tell whether he was encouraging her or trying to convince her that there was just no place for her at the academy.

“I haven’t given it much thought sir.” She lied.

“Sure you have, every cadet that walks through those doors thinks about it. Will my picture be here? Will my deeds be remembered? Will I inspire Hunters that come after me? It’s kind of what we all wonder. Will I make a difference; do I actually fit in here?”

He didn’t expect her to answer, but they were the questions that she had often asked herself. He turned to look at her, and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes that she could not explain.

“Follow me Kile, I want to show you something.” Mathew said as he started off across the gallery.

“I should really be with my group Sir.” She protested, but it didn’t stop her from following him.

“I wouldn’t worry about Gerald, although he can turn a good tale, I do love listening to his stories sometimes. You should hear the one he tells about me.” Mathew remarked as he stopped at one of the side doors and produced a key from his inside pocket. He unlocked the door, pushed it open and then stepped aside. It was clear that he wanted Kile to enter first.

She looked through the door, into the darkness, but couldn’t make out anything beyond. It wouldn’t do to disobey the head of the guild
she thought as she nervously entered the room. Mathew followed her in, and then closed the door behind them. There was a moment of complete darkness before the entire room lit up, and Kile was looking at another, yet smaller, gallery. There were only three displays here, but the differences were dramatic. The pictures didn’t depict the larger than life, godlike beings of muscular masculinity, in fact, they weren’t men at all.

“Were these women
Hunters?” She asked as she moved from one painting to the next.

“There were a few, in fact, back in the early days there were just as many female
Hunters as there were men. I’m not sure when it actually changed, when the guild thought that women were no longer able to handle the training, it just sort of happened. It was gradual at first but over the years it became a mainstay. No one actually said women couldn’t be Hunters; it was just something that was accepted.

“There was a time they wanted me to get rid of these, but I couldn’t.” Mathew added, there was almost a longing in his voice as he talked about the past, looking at each of the pictures one at a time as if remembering them, not so much their stories, but the actual person behind the portrait.

“At one time they were displayed within the main gallery, not any more. You think you have so much time, but before you know it, they’re all gone.”

“Do you know
their names sir?” Kile asked. There wasn’t anything written on the bottoms of the pictures as there had been in the larger gallery, or maybe they had just been removed.

“I should, I am the head of the guild after all.” He smiled, but it was a forced smile. He walked up to the first picture that depicted a young slim girl with long black hair dressed all in white, standing between two marble pillars. She couldn’t have been more
than eighteen or nineteen.

“This was
Alisa Isa, the martyr of Baala, she brought an end to the conflicts within the empire of Baala, at a high cost. She had single handedly undermined the confidence the people had in their king by showing them that there was a better way to live. She led a protest condemning the royal family’s actions against its own people. When they finally came for her she refused to fight and went willingly. Her death was the final straw that ended the king’s reign. She was a gentle peaceful woman; nobody ever thought she would amount to much as a Hunter.”

“Now this one is Catherine Y’lew.” Mathew said, pointing at the painting of a woman with fiery red hair holding a sword up to a thunder cloud”. She was like Isa in many ways, but not so much in others. She was a courageous, strong woman with a stubborn streak a mile wide.
She fought the ogre champion Grydusk in single combat during the Mud wars debates. Fought him to a standstill and earned the right to sign the treaty that ended the war.”

It was the last painting that had moved Kile the most. That of a young woman with golden blond hair dressed in a simple brown leather tunic and slacks. She had two swords strapped to her back and was wearing the same high leather boots that Kile had seen Luke wearing in the stables. She was sitting on a rock among the trees in a forest with a small fawn by her side. There was a peace about her, a calmness that Kile felt, just by looking into the young maiden’s eyes. There was something about those
eyes, something familiar and yet so foreign. She had such an ageless beauty that the artist had managed to capture, and yet how could the painting truly do her justice.

“I see you have been captured by the young Huntress.”

“Who was she?” Kile asked, never turning away from the painting’s eyes.

“
Risa Ta’re.” He whispered.

That name was not of Aruian origin as she repeated it over and over in her head.

Mathew picked up a long box that had been sitting beside the picture, and brushed off the years of dust that settled upon. He opened it and placed it in front of Kile.

Inside were two thin swords, unlike anything
she had ever seen. Each blade was etched with writing she could not read, each leather strapped grip had been worn down to the handle through use. Kile look from the painting to the swords and back again. She could identify the hilts as those the Risa wore strapped to her back.

The swords, the name, those eyes, could she be?

“Was she…”

“Was she what?” Mathews asked.

Kile looked at the woman again; there was something different about her, something ageless.

“Was she an
… elf?”

The Guild Master laughed.

“An elf… well… I suppose she was in a way.”

“Do you know much about her?”

Mathew closed the box and placed it back to rest on the shelf where it had sat for countless years. “That is a story best left for another time.” He replied as the lights in the room went out. The door opened and Kile was forced to pull herself away from the paintings that she could no longer see.

“You had
better catch up with your classmates.” Mathew said as he closed and locked the door. “They will be in the weapons room just down the hall, third door to the left.”

“Thank you sir, for showing me that.” She replied.

She was just about to leave when Mathew stopped her. Kile turned around as the Guild Master held the key out to her.

“Take it.” He said when it was clear she didn’t know what he wanted her to do with it. “It only
seems fitting that the only female cadet should have access to the female part of the gallery... so to speak.”

“But sir
… are you sure?”

“I have seen her so many times that I can remember her image
simply by closing my eyes. I think she deserves someone else to look upon her.”

Kile didn’t have to ask who he was refereeing to.

“Thank you.” She said as she took the key from his hand.

“Go, before
Gerald starts to wonder where you got off to… and Kile, try not to believe everything Treeman has to say, he has a tendency to… exaggerate.” Mathew grinned.

She slipped the key into her pocket and started toward the hallway leading to the weapons room. She turned one more time to thank Master Latherby, but he was nowhere to be seen. As quietly as he had entered, he was gone.

She walked down the hall that Master Latherby had indicated and counted off the doors. It didn’t take her long to find the weapons room, since it was the only door that was open and she could hear laughter from inside. She walked in to see Alex straining under the weight of a huge two handed sword that was longer than he was tall.

“I know I can do this.” He grunted lifting the sword out before him, his arms extended. To his credit he did manage to get it waist high before dropping it back to the floor, although he nearly had to bend over backwards to do it.

“Ah, she returns.” Tree commented when he saw Kile standing in the doorway.

“Sorry Tree, Master Latherby…”

“Say no more.” Tree grinned as he took the sword from Alex with one hand and effortlessly placed it back on the rack. “I don’t suppose you would like to try.”

She wasn’t sure what it was she was
supposed to try, but it was probably something to do with lifting a sword and she really wasn’t all that interested, besides, she had kept them waiting long enough.

“Well, come on, there’s still lots to see.” Tree said as he ushered them out of the room. Carter was the only one that was reluctant to leave, but with Tree coming up behind him, he really didn’t have much of a choice.

“Where were you, what happened?” Daniel asked as he pulled Kile aside. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no problem.” She assured him, “I’ll tell you later.”

They followed after Tree who was pointing out the individual rooms and tell them what they would be learning in each one. Most of the words he was spouting off had no meaning for Kile, but she figured she would find out soon enough. It wasn’t until he ran out of doors that he ran out of words, and the only door left was the one that led out back.

Behind the academy was a path
leading across an open field to where three rather large round buildings with thatched peaked roofs sat, some distance away from the main hall.