Hunter's War (Legend of the Wild Hunter Book 4) (69 page)

“I’ve come to accept it, yes.”

“We don’t know much about them, I’m afraid. About the only thing we could say for sure, is that they were here. Ever since Erin Silvia, told me about your… feral episodes, I have spent my time trying to find out as much about the Orceen as I could, but there is very little information. Most of it was lost with the Alva. They had a closer relationship with the Orceen than we did.”

“Then what have you found out. You
did
find something out… didn’t you?”

“As a matter of fact, I did, at least I think I did. You see, the Maligar wasn’t simply a means of controlling animals, it was meant for much more than that. It was a merging of mind, body and soul, a form of meditation, if you will. It was the highest level of consciousness the Orceen could achieve with the natural world. And, from that connection, they took away… something, but they also left something behind.”

“What did they take away and what did they leave behind?”

“I’m afraid only the Orceen knew for certain. Not even the Alva, who learned so much from them, could make that connection. There were some scattered texts about them inheriting traits from animals they connected with, whether that refers to the Maligar, I simply don’t know. As to what they left behind…”

“Their sanity,” Kile added.

“I doubt it.” Morgan replied.

“Is that it?” she asked.

“Well, there were a few other bits and pieces I was able to pull together.” Morgan said, finally returning to his seat. “There was quite a bit that just didn’t make sense, I just assumed most of it was symbolic. Worlds beyond worlds, realms beyond realms, a collective consciousness and even something about a world tree, but as I said, most of it was just symbolic.”

World tree? Worlds beyond words? Was that where she was, in a world beyond a world? The idea of actually being somewhere and not being somewhere was a bit too much to handle at the moment.

“So, I’m losing myself to this… Maligar. Is that what you are trying to say?”

“But that’s just it, you shouldn’t be.” Morgan replied, leaning back in his chair. He sighed and shook his head. “There is just no way of telling until we understand what the Maligar is, and, more importantly, what it is doing to you.”

“And how do we do that?” she asked.

“We perform a few experiments.”

“Experiments? What kind of experiments?”

Kile wasn’t sure she liked the idea of deliberately poking the Maligar to gauge its reaction. She had come too close to losing herself, what if she wasn’t able to find her way back.

“I can assure you, the experiments will be safe,” Morgan said, clearly seeing the concern on her face.

“How can you be so sure?” she asked. “You haven’t seen what effect it has on me.”

“We will take every precaution to assure your safety, as well as my own.” Morgan replied. “We can conduct the experiments in the Tower. With the other mystics, we can pretty much keep any destruction to a minimum.”

Wonderful, that was the last place she wanted to go back to.

“Why would you do this for me?” she asked.

Morgan shrugged. “For a number of reasons. First off, there’s the search for knowledge. You may hold a key to our understanding of the natural world we would never be able to find anywhere else, not to mention a better understanding of the Orceen race. Then, of course, you are still my student. As long as you are a Hunter and I am a Mystic, we have that bond. But, I suppose, when it comes down to it, I have grown rather fond of you, child.”

Well, that wasn’t what she expected.

“So, when do we start?”

 

 

 

 

***~~~***

 

 

 

30

 

 

Getting started right away was not much of an option. There were several obstacles which needed to be dealt with first. Morgan still needed to get permission from the department heads, although he really didn’t think that was going to be a problem. Emara was coming into her own and was taking on more responsibilities at the Tower, something Kile found hard to believe. She hadn’t earned her Grand Magus title yet, but many of the mystics had started deferring to her judgment. She had already expressed an interest in helping Kile in any way she could, which only made things more awkward. But, Kile had her own issues to sort out. For starters, she was still in the employment of the King’s Command, and would have to answer for her little excursion into the wastelands without permission. That they were successful and even managed to prevent a second front to the war, should go in her favor, assuming those kinds of things add up. She would also have to speak with Master Latherby, or Colonel Barshed, to request a leave of absence, but she didn’t think that was going to be a problem. Wasn’t it Master Latherby who suggested she seek out the mystics?

Fortunately, she didn’t have to go all the way back to Forthbar, or even to Azintar to speak to him, since he was on his way to Windfoil, or at least Colonel Barshed was.

The truth was, she was in no hurry to go anywhere. Windfoil offered her a moment of peace where she could collect her thoughts. It was a quiet, simple place, or it would be if it wasn’t for the servants. She had nothing against the servants personally, but ever since she “woke up” they haven’t given her a moment’s peace. If it wasn’t the nonay coming into her room every three minutes trying to bathe her, clothe her, do her hair or paint her face, it was the cook trying to feed her everything in the kitchen, or the Hall boy watching her every movement. The worst offender was a man by the name of Cenfus, who had been appointed her personal assistant. He seemed a pleasant enough man if he didn’t keep rolling his eyes or clicking his tongue every time she did something he deemed to be too common. The way she walked, the way she talked, the way she dressed was never proper for a young lady. He wouldn’t even let her go to the stables to visit the horses or sit with the dogs in the kennel. When she found Windfoil’s library, he would comment about the books she wanted to read, calling them inappropriate. If he wanted to read the romance novels, he was more than welcome to do so, she found them rather boring and unrealistic.

After two days of Cunfus’s constant scrutiny, she was at her wit’s end and spent most of her time trying to avoid him. That’s how she found her way into the gardens. With winter coming down from the mountains, the gardens weren’t their festive, colorful self, and most of the guests at Windfoil avoided them for the warmer rooms inside the keep. That was fine with her because it meant more space for her to spread out.

She had managed to sneak out of her room with a warm blanket, two guard dogs and a stack of books she secretly removed from the library. She was curled up with the two dogs on the blanket, and halfway through a book on the political structure of the Balaa Empire when she caught the scent of roses, old parchment and just a hint of jasmine soap.

She closed her book and acknowledge defeat.

“Morning Roland,” she called out.

“He said you would be here.”

He carefully made his way through the overgrown brush, the same brush she thought would keep visitors at bay. She was glad to see he wasn’t dressed in his finery. Not only did she feel uncomfortably underdressed when they were seen together, she would hate to be responsible for any tear he suffered on a loose branch. One of his outfits was probably worth more than she would earn in a year, working as a Hunter.

“Who said I would be here?” she asked when he finally untangled himself.

He dusted off his pants and picked a few dead leaves from his shirt. If he was this fussy walking through his own garden, she couldn’t imagine how he would act in the wild. “Alex said I would be able to find you in either the stables, the kennels or the hardest to reach area of my garden.”

“Remind me to thank him for his help,” Kile said as she set the book aside.

“You were missing when I got up this morning.”

“I felt like being alone for a while.”

“You didn’t even let Cenfus know where you were going.”

“He wouldn’t approve. He doesn’t seem to approve of anything I do.”

“He’s only looking out for you.”

“I’ve been looking out for myself all my life, I don’t need his help,” Kile replied as she got to her feet. “Besides, I don’t think he likes me much.”

“Did you or did you not threaten to stab him in the hand with a butter knife the other day?”

“No.” Kile replied. “It was a fork. And it definitely wasn’t going to be in his hand.”

“I rest my case.”

“He tried to shoo Vesper out of the room. Nobody touches my friends.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” he said as he reached down for the discarded book. He casually opened it and flipped through the pages. “You know, we do have more interesting books than these.”

“Yes, the romance novels,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously. “Funny thing to find in the King’s personal library. Quite a large selection too.”

Roland laughed. “I wasn’t referring to those,” he said. “Those were my mother’s, she was an avid reader. No, I was thinking of some of the more….”

“What? Proper books?”

He shrugged. “It’s not every day you see a young lady reading books on politics and war.”

“If there’s one thing I learned over the last year, it’s that I know very little about those subjects,” she replied. “You remember my first visit to Windfoil? I didn’t even know who you were. It was never important back in Riverport.”

“And it is now?”

“I just don’t like being left in the dark.”

“So, what do you want to know?” he asked.

Kile grinned. “Don’t even get me started,” she replied.

“Well, how about this. You walk with me in the garden and I’ll get you up to date on what’s happening in the political arena,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Only if I can lead the way,” she replied. “You’ll only get lost.”

She led him through the clearing and around the hill, where the foliage wasn’t so dense. Once they were back on the trail, they walked side by side.

“So, what’s happening on the western front?” she asked.

“Well, so much for small talk,” he replied.

“You said you would get me up to date, and I haven’t heard any news from the front.”

“Well, the truth is, it’s been relatively quiet. The valrik appeared to have withdrawn from the border for now, but we are keeping vigilant. They tried this before. I think it may be only a matter of time before they regroup and hit us again.”

“I don’t know about that,” Kile replied. “From what I’ve seen, the valrik don’t want any part of this war. I don’t think they’re as bad as what we’ve been led to believe.”

“I wish that were so, but what of the massacre at Grover’s Den?”

“Why do you bring that up?”

“You knew somebody who died there, didn’t you?”

“I’d rather not talk about that.”

“Fair enough, but, can you really say the valrik didn’t want the war after what they did there. And what about Coopervill? You knew people there too.”

“Yes, I knew people in Coopervill, but that was the work of the Valgar.”

“And the valrik fought right alongside them.”

“Only because they were forced to,” she argued.

“And who’s to say they won’t be forced again. My brother is still out there and he wants this war. I don’t know why, but he does, and he’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants. He’s always been like that,” Roland said, turning to face her. “Look, I know you want this war to end. So do I. And while I have big plans for the future, the safety of my kingdom must come first.”

“I know,” she replied. “It just… seems so pointless.”

“What war doesn’t?” he asked with a shrug. “Look, I shouldn’t be telling you military secrets and all, but there is a plan in the works which may see this war come to a definitive end, as soon as next spring.”

“What do you mean?”

“We now have reason to believe, the Alva once possessed a great artifact which could reclaim the wastelands and put an end to the Uhyre threat, once and for all.”

“Reclaim the wastelands?”

“The wastelands were once a great forest where the Alva lived. Until the Uhyre came. They brought with them a blight which corrupted the lands, killing off everything. It turned all the land into the desert we now have. The Alva was forced to flee, but they always swore they would return to heal their homeland. They tried living among the Aruvians, but our cultures were too different, and it wasn’t long before they departed from our shores, looking for a solution. Their races suffered greatly at sea, and their numbers have diminished, but, as you know, a few have actually returned, and they know of this artifact.”

“The Alva ambassadors in Forthbar,” Kile exclaimed.

“Exactly. They have come, seeking our help. They feel that if we can help them reclaim this artifact, and bring it to the wastelands. It will restore it to its original form and in the process, drive the Uhyre back to the mountains.”

“Do you trust them?” she asked.

“I don’t know about trust. There are a few details to the story which run counter to what I was taught as a child, but who’s to say what version of history is the truth. I’ve assigned a few scholars to look into the validity of the Alva’s tale. They’ve informed me, there might be something to it after all. If there is even a slight chance it will work, then I think it’s worth a try. Don’t you?”

“It seems a little unbelievable.”

“Says the woman who speaks with animals.”

Kile laughed. “I suppose if it does bring an end to the war...”

“It will, one way or another there will be an end.”

“But will things ever go back to the way they were?”

“Not everything,” Roland replied. “Some things will never be the same, and maybe that’s not all bad.”

“Maybe.”

They walked in silence for a while and Kile thought about what Roland just told her. It was the new version of the wasteland’s history, which nagged at her the most. It seems every race was blaming another race for the creation of the desert if it suited their own agendas. The vir blamed the Alva, the Alva blamed the vir, and now they were both blaming the Uhyre. Where did the truth actually lie? Umingoth had hinted the destruction was brought on by something the Alva were experimenting with, and if anyone would know, he would, but how much could you trust a dragon? And, if it was true, what were the Alva experimenting with? What could turn a thriving forest into a dead wasteland?

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