~ Closing In ~
“I am curious, Trezt, how a hunter becomes the hunted.” Stefano leaned back and drew slowly from his pipe, his dark eyes locked on the older kindred before him. He had been questioning members of the Orswelt community for three nights and was not feeling at all close to a resolution. “Was this a hunt gone wrong or something less dramatic?” Opposite the small camp-style fire from him the man looked poised and calm. Too calm, in Stefano’s mind, for talking to his Prince.
Trezt chuckled. “I find great humor as I look back at that time now, my Prince. I was a member of the Dark Ridge clan, ferocious group of hunters dating back … well, as far back as any can remember.”
“I am familiar with the name. Please, continue.”
“I had received my fourth notch when I was only 32. But time marches on for day-walkers. One look at me will tell you I was not young when I was brought across.” When Stefano made no comment, he continued. “Then came the day I had worked against; I was no longer to be allowed in the hunt. I had ‘become aged’ in their words.” He shrugged. “I was furious. Their best hunter, removed because of age alone? My abilities were as sharp as ever. So, I found the best way to repay.”
“You became kindred.” Stefano drew slowly on his pipe. “Before going further, please explain ‘the fourth notch’.”
“Most clans have a wooden insignia, carried as a luck piece. When a lad starts hunting, he cuts a small notch in the bottom edge. The second notch is added when he brings at least two to an end within one night. The third indicates five kills.”
“And the fourth?”
The death of a wolven chief.”
“Did you then go for your revenge?”
I did consider such. Started out to do so one night but changed my mind. Only a fool rushes into the center of the storm. I knew too many of the clan, their abilities, their conquests. It was more prudent to step back from it all.”
“Most illuminating. Thank you, Trezt. That is all.”
The older kindred stood then bowed. “I thank you for your time, Lord Prince. I hope you can find solace knowing that everyone here wishes you Fate-speed in discovering the truth in this matter.”
Except for the killer Stefano thought as he stretched his legs before him.
“My lord, my lord, my lord, Lord Prince. Will you speak with me next? Are you ready to hear from me?”
The prince grimaced as the trelulant approached. Good natured and kind, without exception, they are kindred who did not adjust to the shift and entered the night crazed. It should have been the bearer’s responsibility to manage any trelulant they created, but Gyson’s sire was never found. Many thought them gifted in sight; Stefano had never considered it. But if there’s a chance her muddled mind did see something, it is best to at least try to speak with her. I suppose.
“Come, lass. Let us speak. Your time is now.”
The woman hopped over to sit, stand, and then sit again. Stefano calculated she was, at most, in her twenties when taken.
“I saw it all, Lord Prince. I always see everything. You can’t hide from the fire, no you can’t, you can’t. It sees everything and it tells me. It tells me because I have the sight. In my mind not my eyes, eyes cannot see what the mind knows.”
Stefano listened politely, occasionally nodding his head. “It is good to be able to speak to one who knows. Please, Gyson, tell me what you have seen.”
“I saw them both, Lord Prince. I did, you know. Saw them both.”
“The visitors? You saw the ones who were killed?” He winced as the trelulant screamed.
“Nah! Yahyahnah. No no no. The killers. It was them I saw. Both together. Separate in the light but only one in shadows.”
“One did not stay?”
“Oh they stayed. They stayed, Lord Prince. They had to. Because they walked into each other and then only one was there but that one was both don’t you see it was them becoming one that made me look at them else I might never have seen but I did see. I did. I did.”
“And did you recognize them?”
“Oh, they were from our Ors, yes they were, they were. But not together. Only separate.”
“And what did they do – when they were together?”
“They killed the others, Lord Prince Prince Prince. They hunted their friends… no, not friends. Afraid of the light so never friends. But they killed them.”
“Do you know who they are? When they are not together?”
“Who’s to know my Lord Lord? If I knew they would only take me next but I did not look at them when it was two because they would kill me they would. I only looked at them together. They did not fit well but they did strangely they did.”
“Where were you when you saw…” Stefano was not given the chance to finish asking her as an arrow sliced the air and entered Gyson’s side. Her eyes opened wide then she fell forward into the fire. Stefano leapt to his feet and quickly pulled her free, beating off any flames with his overcoat. He then stood full and began scanning the surrounding area – only to be greeted with empty shadows.
The elder Kerl was the first to arrive at the fire, followed quickly by three others who remained quiet as the elder spoke to Stefano.
“I saw her fall, Lord Prince. You were quick to pull her free from the flames, but I see, alas, it was over for her already.”
Angry eyes settled on the man. “The shot was sure, sir...”
“Kerl, my Lord. I am second elder to Ysdred who met you when you arrived. In fact, she comes now,” he pointed in the direction of the approaching woman.
“Ysdred, who would have cause to extinguish Gyson?” Stefano’s voice rang with his usual authority.
“None I know of, Lord Prince. Gyson is … was … a trial for many, if not all – but her heart was one of the sweetest in Orswelt.”
“She was vocal about having seen the ones responsible for the earlier killings.”
“Ones, my Lord? There are more than one?”
“Gyson claimed there were two.” Stefano stopped short of the “two becoming one” reference as it was only beginning to make sense to him.
“A dark time for us all, then,” stated Kerl.
“Most dark,” replied Stefano as he bent over the body. “But even a candle burning in the darkness can give truth to shadow.” He pulled the offending arrow from Gyson and stood, examining it carefully.
“My Lord?” Ysdred asked as she held out her hand for the arrow.
“When I am done examining it, you may have it.”
“Of course, Lord Prince.” The woman backed away slightly and waited, her eyes never leaving the arrow in Stefano’s hands.
Stefano sighed and shook his head, sadly handing the weapon to the woman elder. He then looked to both Ysdred and Kerl. “No one is to retire this night until you have spoken to any and all who knew Gyson. If they spoke to her but once, you shall question them fully.”
“Yes, Lord Prince,” they responded in unison.
“Lord Prince, can we move to a different fire to talk?” Another woman approached, somewhat older than Gyson, but far more sensual in poise and speech.
“Of course. It would be best to give the elders time to search for dear Gyson’s killer. I can check with them later. For now, let us walk to the next fire east.”
As they walked, Stefano cleaned out his now-spent pipe and began filling it fresh. “As I remember you are Chalance?”
“Yes, my Lord Prince. It is gracious of you to remember. But I must ask, why aren’t you helping the elders right now? I mean, another kindred extinguished and all, even if it was just a trelulant.”
Stefano’s gave a brief glint of anger over the ‘just a trelulant’ comment, but kept quiet. He glanced toward the others then turned back. “They will be ready for me soon, but I should be able to finish my talk with you. Gives them time to discover what they can so together we can decide how to proceed. Now then.” He sat on a log and gestured towards a stable looking wooden stool that would likel
y be more comfortable. Interestingly, Chalance picked another log on which to perch. Stefano began preparing a fresh pipe. “I notice you carry a single arrow quivered. Why only one?”
“It is the arrow I used to win this season’s competitions. I carry it as a good luck emblem I suppose, though it does improve my night to have it near.” She reached over her shoulder and presented it lying on both her open palms. “I am very pleased with it.”
The prince turned it delicately in his fingers. “Fine work, though it seems a bit rough.”
“Purposely, Lord Prince. I believe the barbs give it more character.”
Stefano gently handed the arrow back in the same manner it had been presented. “This and the previous two seasons, I hear. I am told you are the most adept woman in the region using the bow. Possibly the best kindred.”
Pride flashed in Chalance’s eyes. “Nothing possible about it. I am the best this region holds. Not pride mind you, just what it is.”
“Indeed? There is Trezt, after all.”
Chalance turned and spat. “Ha. That one is lucky he can clean himself without someone needing to assist. He is more waste than not; I could easily break his bow.” Her eyes flashed with anger, preceded by a look Stefano didn’t quite catch.
There is more there, she hides something I might be able… blast, the elders are signaling for me. Stefano stood and smiled. “Might I see it?”
Almost too quickly the arrow was removed from its quiver and handed to the prince. “I carve them myself, Lord Prince. It is an art I learned from my mother, also a great one with the bow.”
He tenderly handed the prize back to its owner. “Thank you, Chalance, for your time and openness. We may speak again, but for now I must attend to the matter of Gyson.”
She also stood. “My thanks, Lord Prince. I am pleased I could answer to you and hope that I haven’t placed too much disparity upon myself.” She giggled, though it sounded empty and forced.
Stefano nodded his head and walked over to where the elders were gathered. They talked at great lengths to explain why that other than information about the arrow, they had nothing new to give him. Stefano arched a brow when the arrow was mentioned.
“What was odd about it?”
A diminutive man stepped forward, looking timid yet when he spoke his voice carried authority and confidence. “Detzr, Lord Prince. Not so much odd, my Lord Prince, only that it is akin to the arrows used on the two visitors. Same type of handwork, same size and weight.”
“Let me see it again, Detzr.”
The kindred handed Stefano the weapon used on Gyson. He scrutinized it carefully, noticing the delicate burrs along the shaft then handed it back. “Make sure this is kept safe with the other two. The two wooden emblems found on the visitors – I trust they are also set aside.”
“Yes my Lord Prince. Arrows and emblems and now this arrow shall join them.” He paused, looking very uncomfortable. “We would not pressure you, Lord Prince, but we were wondering if you knew how much longer…”
“I will give you word later this night.”
“Thank you, Lord Prince.”
With that, everyone dispersed. After his own feeding, Stefano could be found walking the streets of Orswelt slowly, pipe in hand, a trail of smoke feathers following him. He mentally reviewed what he had learned in the prior three nights. A wooden arrow through the heart. Both men shot while well within the borders of the region. The arrows push the idea of hunters being involved, as does the hit being dead center of the heart. A tricky shot at best, but from the side more so. Though that was the clearest path beyond the rib cage. But I cannot fathom having hunters here unnoticed. And Trezt was once a member of a hunter community – but that is prior to his coming into the night, which is decades gone. I struggle accepting that he would still have ties to anyone there.
He turned to follow the gradual rise up Focus Hill, the highest point in the area that the locals used as an overlook. From here light most of the houses looked like stars or stationary fireflies and as he climbed more would fade in. Spectacular view from here, much more dramatic than the lights around a camp. Not as warm though. I do wish the other travelers had any information on the two that were extinguished other than their names. How do five kindred travel any real distance only knowing the names of their fellow travelers.? Yet I felt no deceit or cunning from any of them.
Stefano paused a moment before cresting the hill and looked out across the region that was Orswelt, before continuing up the slope. The arrows … well crafted, and yet not true hunter technique. Too many abrasions, even as tiny as they are,, still not something a hunter of any noble clan would permit. Yet a good likeness of Chalance’s prize piece. As he reached the summit, a small breeze whispered across the land, teasing his hair and puffing at his cloak. Chalance, on the other hand, is also an excellent marksman. It would not be out of the question for her to have the ability for a side shot to the heart. The accuracy of the kill is flawless. And it is no secret there is no love wasted between Chalance and Trezt. Is one casting suspicion on the other? There must be something more. Someone had a reason to select those targets. I need to find the commonality. It has to be there somewhere. Then it is just a matter of ferreting the guilty individual into view. Yet there is still the matter of the hunter clan emblems, leads one to believe they were once hunters. Or carried them as trophies from kills. He looked at his hands as he stopped to clear his finished pipe. Slowly a smile crept over his face and he looked up and over the top of the buildings below. Of course, there is the possibility… He laughed to himself before turning to head back down the hill.
The remainder of the night found Stefano returning to the remaining three visitors to Orswelt. He repeated his sorrow at their loss and promised quick resolution. Finally he stopped at Deztr’s cottage as the horizon showed signs of waking, giving the kindred orders that might keep all the elders awake a while longer.
“Have everyone feed promptly tomorrow eve then gather at your overlook. I shall pronounce judgement at that time.”
“Yes, my Lord Prince. It shall be done.”