Sample Chapters From:
Gifted Hunter
An Ilvenworld Novella
by
Nicholas A. Rose
Copyright
2012
***
Chapter 1
Journey to the Mainland
The ferry
crossed the mila or so of choppy green-brown water that lay between Taura's
quayside and the narrow channel leading out to sea with surprising speed. Sallis ti Ath found a quiet corner of the
deck to stand and watch, well clear of the oarsmen.
He had spent two
days enjoying and ogling the sights of Re Taura's capital city, waiting for the
ferry to the mainland. Two days to
Calcan, unless they ran into any storms, then he must travel overland to Marka,
the city everybody called the Jewel of the World.
The tide had
begun to ebb and the expanse of water ahead gave the deceptive appearance of
great width. But the channel was narrow
here, marked by brightly-colored floating bladders. Rocky flats protruded far into the gap and
lurked beneath the water at high tide, waiting to wreck the foolhardy or
ignorant. A castle atop its own small
island loomed far above, its turrets dominating the passage leading to the
harbor.
Bells rang out
from within the castle, urgent sounds of emergency. There must have been something in his stance,
because another passenger smiled at him.
"They test
those bells every week," said the man.
"The Mametain's son is an inventive sort and likes to
experiment. Nobody knows exactly what
he's up to, but they say he had the bells installed, just in case."
"In case of
what?" asked Sallis.
"Precisely." The man smiled again. "That's what we'd like to know. But at least Castle Beren's far enough from
Taura for us to be safe."
"I
see." The wind freshened as the
ferry left the shelter of the land and Sallis pulled his brown cloak tight
around his shoulders. Those shoulders
had broadened as Sallis the boy matured into Sallis the man. He had grown tall too, and not just for his
age.
"Going to
Calcan, or headed further abroad?"
asked the stranger.
Sallis had been
warned to guard his tongue. "For
now, Calcan."
"Me too. My family's in Calcan, so I ought to spend
some time there. I'm from Re Taura
though. Sounds like you're from one of
the outer islands."
Sallis blinked
and watched the sudden bustle as sailors readied the sails. As the ferry cleared the channel, the crew
hauled on ropes and the sails filled.
The wind freshened further and oars were no longer needed. As cream-colored canvas filled the gaps
between the masts, the ferry heeled and gathered speed.
"From Re
Annan," Sallis eventually replied.
"Not enough
work? Or just want to see the
world?"
Sallis
smiled. "Both," he replied.
***
Sallis had spent
most of the past four years working on his father's farm. Elvallon still visited and remained friendly,
but a definite edge had crept into their relationship. It took Sallis a couple of years to realize
that his old tutor was wary. His return
visits to Leynx grew less and less frequent.
That was a
shame, because Lyssan always gave him a ready welcome, but it was rare for her
to accompany Elvallon when he traveled north.
Sallis used his
talents whenever possible, catching those who liked to steal other people's
sheep, or those prisoners the Guard managed to lose. He had never worked out if the Guard suffered
from incompetence or carelessness. He
had certainly amassed gold of his own, but Hayland always said the best work
would be found on the mainland. And the
most rewarding.
"But who
will help with everything?"
demanded Sallis. Now his sisters
were married, his parents would have the farm to themselves when he left.
"We'll cope
as we always have," replied Hayland.
"Neighbors and friends. And
we can still call on Barten and his family when needed."
Sallis thinned
his lips. "When I can afford it,
I'll send you sylphs," he promised.
"They can help. And if you
have male and female sylphs, perhaps that'll be another way to make
money."
Hayland waved a
dismissive hand. "We'll make the
farm smaller," he announced.
"Fewer mouths means we need less money."
Sallis
smiled. "I'll send you the
sylphs," he promised. "They're
probably cheaper on the mainland than here."
"More
common, certainly," replied Hayland.
***
The number of
sylphs on Re Taura opened Sallis's eyes.
He had always imagined sylphs to be the preserve of the wealthy, but
seeing so many about their errands, he now realized most people here must have
them as servants. He had not bothered to
learn their cost. Once he'd paid his
ferry fare, he had enough spare coin for a horse after he arrived in
Calcan. Get established first; buy
sylphs for his father's farm later.
Sallis now
stared at the sylph hovering beside the steersman. He had no idea exactly what a ship's sylph
was for, but she appeared to be a
valued member of the crew. She even wore
the same: canvas trousers, white shirt and a blue serge jacket with wooden
buttons.
Elvallon had
left Sallis's education concerning sylphs to Lyssan, the only sylph Sallis knew
well. Lyssan claimed to be a proper
sylph and never hid her vague contempt for infertiles, shaking her head
whenever he referred to one as "she".
"Not
she," she always said, shaking her head.
"I am a she. They are
neuters who cannot breed. What use are
they?"
From what Sallis
had seen in the past two days, infertiles filled lots of uses, and dashed about
their tasks with an efficient air. Most
servants he had seen running errands were infertiles, and that included the
ship's sylph he now watched at her duty.
She stood with
feet planted apart, earpoints slanted forward and twitching in excited
curiosity, and her silvery eyes glowed with pleasure. More sylphs stood beside their owners, all
with wilted earpoints and all, Sallis suddenly noticed, looking landwards.
"Bring much
food with you?" asked Sallis's new
friend, looking hopeful.
"No,"
replied Sallis. "I paid for my
meals with my ferry fare."
"Ah." The other man nodded and looked disappointed
at the same time. "Probably
sensible."
Sallis thought
so too, and his attention returned to the ship's sylph.
There was little
difference between her and the others.
Skin and hair color the same, earpoints and vertically slit
pupils... Shorter than Lyssan and
certainly not as developed, but she clearly belonged to the same species.
As Re Taura grew
smaller and smaller, and the unbroken horizon ahead widened, Sallis noticed the
other sylphs vanish below one by one. An
infertile began it, and before long the only one left on the upper deck
belonged to the ship.
"Why have
they gone?" he wondered aloud.
"That's sylphs
for you," said his friend, overhearing.
"They don't like being at sea."
Sallis nodded
towards the ship's wheel. "Doesn't
bother her."
"She's
probably used to it."
Pushing the
strangeness of sylphs out of his thoughts, Sallis leaned on the rail, stared
into the green water and dreamed of Calcan.
Chapter 2
Calcan
Calcan's harbor
lay a good five milas from the city.
Sallis was surprised a city could stand on the sea, or even develop as a
city, and not have its own harbor.
Instead, Calcan used the harbors of two satellite towns: one no more
than a glorified fishing village, the other a trading port.
Sallis had no
spare money - as far as he knew - so he walked the five milas to the city,
following a paved road gradually rising uphill.
He strapped his sword to his back, so it could not tangle in his legs
and used his quarterstaff as a walking stick.
Calcan stood on a cliff, so only had walls on three sides. The gates leading into the city were
impressive enough, flanked by two round towers and easily wide enough for four
carts to pass abreast.
The streets
bustled with the same industry Sallis had come to expect after his visit to
Taura. Easily twice the size of Taura,
Sallis hoped his awe of Calcan did not show too obviously. From what he saw, anything and everything
could be bought here, from cloth and clothes, to armor and weapons.
He found three
places selling horses and wandered between them to compare prices, until he
found one suitable.
The animal
watched him approach and tossed his head in greeting. Brown all over, except for a white blaze on
his nose, Sallis admired him from a distance.
He reached forward with a hand and gently patted the creature, who
nuzzled him back.
"Has he got
a name?" asked Sallis, as the
proprietor joined him.
"Glyder." The proprietor sniffed. "Second hand, six years old, just
re-shod."
Sallis let
Glyder investigate his hand and took careful note of the animal's teeth as he
peeled his lips back, expecting something edible. Finding nothing, Glyder gave Sallis a
reproachful look.
"Take a
good look, young sir; you'll find this animal is a bargain."
"That
depends how much he is." Sallis
smiled. Strong legs. Deep chest.
Good teeth. Even
temperament. No sign of disease.
"One crown
sir, that is his price." The
proprietor smiled.
"For one
gold crown, I expect the tack to be included," replied Sallis. "And directions for Marka."
The haggling
eventually accounted for most of the time Sallis spent in Calcan. One horse and his tack heavier, but one gold
crown and fifteen coppers lighter, Sallis wasted no more time and left the
city.
For the first
time since leaving Re Annan, Sallis felt blessedly alone.
Everything went
well for two days. Nothing drastic went
wrong on day three, but Sallis's riding skills had faded somewhat. Glyder proved a delight to ride, but that did
not protect Sallis from saddle sores.
Getting up on
the third day and it felt as though he had been visited by a sadist with
stinging nettles. Sallis felt agony just
standing upright. Despite that, they
must eat. He looked after Glyder first,
suspecting his soreness was more the fault of the saddle than the horse.
After that
wasted day, Sallis forced himself to ride, though Glyder got his hooves checked
for stones rather more regularly than normal, and grooming lasted twice as long
for a couple of days.
By the end of
the first week, Sallis had almost forgotten about saddle sores. Four days since he turned inland, four days
without seeing the sea. Only now did he
realize how a continent felt so different from an island. Sea-smell pervaded everything on Re Annan and now, with the smell absent, he missed
it.
Pining for that
smell could be a form of homesickness, but he looked forward eagerly to the
adventures waiting for him.
Sallis wanted to
take no chances. He rode with his
quarterstaff strapped beside him and his sword hung from the pommel. Calcan controlled lands allegedly safe and
stable, but he knew people everywhere were not always friendly towards
strangers.
As he rode
further west, things began to change.
Seeing
borderstones on both sides of the road, Sallis paused to consult his map. Unless he had a really poor sense of
direction, Calcan's lands were about to fall behind and everything in front of
him belonged to Marka. He had the road
to himself, without even a trading caravan in sight.
He wondered if
men gave this road another name once he passed the stones. According to his map, Alderra was a huge
prefecture, and according to the few he had spoken to along the way, almost
completely independent of Marka, but ruled by a family with no wish to break
away completely.
About a mila
after the borderstones, the paving ended.
Ruts and puddles marked the road's route, with shards of old paving scattered
about, but Sallis saw more neglect than care.
No soldiers
patrolled here.
People had a
more watchful and suspicious air about them.
The few caravans he passed had merchant guards, who all looked at him
carefully. Aggressive looks outnumbered
neutral looks, and no friendly faces were seen anywhere. Most unlike the way people treated each other
on Re Annan.
Farmers took one
look at his sword and staff before closing their doors against him. Sallis spent more and more nights sleeping
under the stars or in a hedge.
He eventually
passed from Alderra, his map informing him that the road hugged the border
between Selim and Eman until he reached Outer Marka. Here, Sallis met his first patrol of soldiers
since leaving Calcan's lands.
And these were a
lot less polite.
The patrol had
five men, which included the junior officer in charge. Paving had reappeared now Sallis neared
Marka, but the soldiers were dusty from their ride. They surrounded Sallis, forcing him to stop,
and eyed his weapons suspiciously.
The men boasted
two days' stubble, while Sallis managed some fluff on his chin and upper lip.
"Where you
headed, boy?" demanded the rider
with a thin line of cloth around the rim of his helmet.
"Marka,"
replied Sallis. He eyed the cloth,
knowing it must denote rank, but not what rank.
"Er, Captain."
"Squadman,"
replied the other man, his dark-blue eyes showing no hint of humor.
"Sorry." Sallis took a breath. "I'm going to Marka, Squadman."
"A good ten
days yet," said the squadman.
"Not much between there and here.
What are you doing for food?"
Sallis
blinked. The soldier's words...
insinuated, and out here their word outweighed his.
"I
forage," he replied.
"Poach and
steal you mean."
Sallis's
dark-brown eyes hardened.
"No,"
he replied, "I mean forage. Coming
from a farm, I know the difference."
"With that
accent, from a farm far away." The
squadman's gaze flickered quickly to Sallis's sword. "Much call for farmers with swords
there?"
"It might
be needed where I'm going."
"Joining
the Guard?"
Sallis shook his
head. "I want to be a bounty
hunter."
The men
laughed. Sallis tried to ignore them,
but at his age all such insults were personal.
Despite the urge to teach these men a lesson, he gritted his teeth and
said nothing.
"What's
your name, boy?"
"Sallis ti
Ath."
The squadman
shook his head. "From one of the
islands then. Never knew things were so
bad that way." He leaned forward
and lowered his voice. "Some advice
for you, Sallis ti Ath. If you can use
that sword, join the Guard."
Abruptly, he
straightened and raised his voice.
"Nothing for us here, lads," he announced. His blue eyes were cold again. "On your way, Sallis ti Ath." He touched a hand to his helmet, then led his
men onwards.
Sallis watched
them go before deciding to press on.
What waited for him in Marka?
Perhaps the city might not be such a good idea after all.
Was he doing the
right thing?
Chapter 3
Marka
When Sallis
crested the pass between the last hills and saw Marka for the first time,
spring had turned to summer. Even in the
pass, he was grateful for his early start and, coming from a more temperate
climate, he dreaded how hot it would be in the city. In common with every other traveler, the
pyramid and not the city caught his attention.
Made from black
material glistening in the strengthening sunlight, the pyramid rose up and up,
its base covering an area greater than even the city. Still early, wisps of cloud clung to its
upper reaches and a ruby light-crystal glittered at its apex.
Sallis closed
his mouth. How could the hands of men
manage to build such things? Most said
the pyramid dated from the first, lost civilization, but a few whispered that
the Father Himself raised the artifact from the ground, long before men came to
the ilvenworld.
Beyond the city,
forests clung to hillsides, bare in places where areas had been cleared for the
timber Marka needed. Paler green patches
showed where young trees grew, replacing those taken some time before. Like on Re Annan, people did not clear trees
without replanting. Such foolishness
would quickly lose the forests forever.
Looking down at
his destination, Sallis smiled to himself and touched Glyder's flanks with his
heels. That pyramid would take some
getting used to; at certain times of day its shadow probably engulfed the city
built beside it.
Riding slowly
towards the gates, he hoped Marka would provide what he wanted. A few people left the city, but most passing
through the gates were farmers heading in.
Those with carts had ground to a halt, waiting their turn to enter
Marka.
A guardsman
walked along the queue. "Just you
and that horse?" he demanded of
Sallis.
Sallis nodded in
reply.
"Ride down
the right side," commanded the guardsman.
"Enter through the right hand gate, but give way to anybody leaving
the city."
Sallis nodded in
reply and dropped out of the queue to ride slowly towards the gates, aware that
some people watched his every move.
Brown cloak and
disheveled appearance aside, he was clearly an outlander. Most people here boasted dark-blue eyes, a
few blue-gray. Sallis had dark
eyes. He avoided speaking with
people. They would not appreciate him
reaching the city while they waited outside in a line.
He soon realized
sylphs outnumbered humans here, too.
They walked alongside farmers' carts, or rode in the back; some carried
sunshades to protect their mistresses' skin.
Several gave him more than a cursory glance, their eyes widening.
Sallis knew why,
though he doubted the sylphs understood what caused their sudden feeling of
unease.
All sylphs could
sense the Gift, and none enjoyed having it used near them. Of course, Sallis was not using his abilities
right now, but a minority could sense even a practitioner's potential and
disliked being close to a Gifted human.
Sallis suspected the sylphs now staring at him belonged to that
minority.
Finally reaching
the gate, the short, fat guard took one look at his sword and waved him to one
side.
"Secure
your animal and dismount," he said, brown eyes glittering. "Over there, please."
As Sallis tied
Glyder's reins to a post, a taller, thinner guard left the gatehouse, holding a
sheet of paper pinned to a wooden board.
Sallis waited.
The newcomer had
the dark-blue eyes so common here and medium-brown hair. He regarded Sallis with a mixture of
curiosity and distaste.
"An
outsider," he said.
"Yes,"
replied Sallis. He jerked his head
towards the gate. "So's your
companion."
A smile ghosted
across the uniformed man's face.
"Where are you from?"
"Re
Annan."
The guard noted
the answer. "Name?"
"Sallis ti
Ath."
The guard nodded
as he wrote. "That fits your
accent."
"Why would
I lie?"
The guard looked
up from the paper and his eyes hardened.
"You'd be surprised," he replied, "how many people do
lie."
Sallis shrugged.
"Why have
you come to Marka?" continued the
guard, glancing at the sword. "And
do you know how to use that?"
"I've come
to be a bounty hunter," replied Sallis.
The guard
groaned. "Not another
one." His expression was certainly
unfriendly now. "Look boy, the
Guard might not have enjoyed much success of late, but we have enough bounty
hunters here."
"What do
you mean?" Sallis was cautious.
"If I fart
in my sleep there are at least half a dozen bounty hunters in earshot. Marka's crawling with 'em and more come in
every day. The only consolation is that
they have even less success than us."
Sallis narrowed
his eyes. "You have a problem that
needs sorting?" he asked. "I have references-"
"Nothing we
can't sort for ourselves," interrupted the guard. "We're more concerned with justice than
bounty, unlike you hunters. Now, do you
know how to use that sword?"
"I'm not
bad," replied Sallis. He hefted the
staff. "But I'm better with
this."
"How old
are you?"
"Fifteen."
The guard eyed
him up and down. "Had you down as
older," he grunted. "No
matter, fifteen's old enough to join the Guard."
"I'm here
to be a bounty hunter," insisted Sallis.
The guardsman
ignored him. "You come back here an
hour after noon and we'll put you through your paces."
"I'm not
here to join the Guard," protested Sallis.
"I'm here to-"
"An hour
after noon," insisted the guard.
"You come here and ask for me or Oston." He nodded towards the fat guard. "That's Oston. Or you can ask for me. I'm Crallin.
You can leave your gear and horse here and look around the city till
then."
"But I must
see to Glyder," protested Sallis.
"He's come a long way."
Crallin
smiled. "Don't worry, we'll look
after your horse. We've got stablers
here as well."
"But-"
"An hour
after noon." Crallin turned away.
Chapter 4
The Testing
As commanded -
for one thing he wanted Glyder back - Sallis turned up at the gatehouse exactly
one hour after noon. Two fresh guards
stood at the gate, but Crallin and Oston, now wearing leather armor instead of
their uniform, waited.
An older,
gray-haired man stood with them. His
hands grasped Sallis's sword and quarterstaff.
"This is
Lieutenant Vayburn," said Crallin.
Vayburn inclined
his head to Sallis, taking him in from head to toe. Finally, he flourished the sword. "This is a good weapon," he
growled. "Where did you get
it?"
"It was
made at home," replied Sallis.
"A gift from my father."
Vayburn's gray
eyebrows lifted. "Made on Re
Annan? I doubt that." He hefted the sword and turned his wrists a
few times before slamming it back in its scabbard. "This sword is Re Taura work, or I've
never seen it." He threw the
scabbarded sword at Sallis, who snatched it out of the air without thinking.
"Possible." Sallis shrugged. "There is a lot of trade between the
islands."
"This
however," continued Vayburn, the sword forgotten, "is a farmer's
weapon." He hefted the quarterstaff
and twirled it. "Man who knows how
to use this can take two swordsmen out at once."
"I learned
to use that long before I saw a sword," said Sallis.
Oston and
Crallin exchanged a look as they strapped swordbelts around their waists.
"What
now?" asked Sallis. "Where's my horse and the rest of my
kit?"
"All safe,
I assure you," said Vayburn.
"Your horse has enjoyed a large meal and what I suspect is the best
rubdown of his life since you entered it.
And now, we will discover how good you are with those weapons."
"Why?" Sallis was suspicious. "I already said I'm not interested in
joining the Guard. I have come here
to-"
"We know:
be a bounty hunter," interrupted Vayburn.
"I want to see how good you are with your weapons. You show you haven't got a clue what you're
about and I'll put you in the guard for a couple of years until you do. Then you can make up your own mind."
"I already
have," said Sallis.
"Right,
we've chatted long enough," said Vayburn, ignoring the comment.
Oston and
Crallin took up station alongside Sallis and escorted him back out through the
gates. Sallis feared they intended to
abandon him outside the city, but they did not go far, only to a grassy area,
overlooked by the walls. Expecting a
show, a couple of guards lounged up there, watching.
Oston went to
one side and removed his leather jerkin.
Sallis changed his mind about the man.
He wasn't fat at all, but squat.
Muscle thickened his arms and chest, and Sallis knew he faced a powerful
man.
"You can
take your cloak and tunic off if you want," said Vayburn. "No point in sweating to death in this
heat."
"I doubt
you get the chance to strip down in real life," said Sallis.
Vayburn's
dark-blue eyes hardened. "You'll
need full movement here," he said.
"We just want to see what you can do."
Sallis
reluctantly removed his cloak and tunic.
His arms were not that well muscled, though he was pretty hefty for his
age. His height made him look even
slimmer.
Drawing his
sword, he threw the scabbard aside and came to stance as he had been taught.
Oston didn't
wait, but launched straight into an attack.
Sallis turned first and second thrusts aside easily and whacked the
short guard across his bottom with the flat as he passed.
Oston growled
and returned to the attack. Rage flashed
in his dark eyes as Sallis easily turned all the attacks aside. He didn't even need to try.
Vayburn clapped
his hands. "Excellent!"
Oston looked at
Sallis in disgust as they parted.
Crallin came in
next and, while he avoided Sallis's blade, he made no more progress than Oston
had managed. Crallin had a quite
different style of fighting, colder and more clinical in his movements.
"Good!" Vayburn nodded in approval. "Sure you don't want to join the Guard,
Sallis? You're better than I'd hoped. Maybe the next Blade Grandmaster? Not had one of those since Olista left us for
the Senate."
Sallis
rested. "Not interested in the
Guard," he said.
"Of course
not." Vayburn smiled. "Let's see you with the staff. Crallin, Oston; both together please."
Crallin looked
surprised. "Sir, two on one in
these circumstances is not right! We
don't know how good the boy is."
Vayburn shook
his head. "You try and kill him
with those swords." He turned to
Sallis. "Reckon you're up to
it?"
Sallis whirled
the staff. "If it stops you banging
on about the Guard, then I'm ready," he replied.
Vayburn
laughed. "All right you two:
kill."
As expected,
Oston came in straight away, while Crallin watched for weak points. But neither man had a chance.
Sallis twirled
his ostwood staff. It moved in a blur
and almost broke Oston's wrist as it met his blade. The guardsmen watching from above laughed and
cheered. Oston cursed and gave his hand
a violent shake while Crallin angled in.
Sallis pivoted
and tapped Crallin's elbow. The second
guard dropped his sword.
"Come on
you two!" roared Vayburn. "Stop faffing about and kill him!"
Again, Sallis
suspected that Oston's temper had frayed, but both guards circled around so, no
matter how Sallis turned, one man stayed in front and one behind.
There was only
one way to deal with this.
Sallis opened
himself to the Gift. Oston moved as if
through water, while Crallin angled ever so slowly around. Despite the impression that time had slowed,
Sallis knew that he moved faster through it.
He must end this fight.
The two men had
been commanded to kill him, so Sallis must hurt his opponents enough to stop
them. Turn. He cracked Crallin's head so the man went
down in a heap. Turn.
Now he faced
Oston.
The squat man's
eyes widened - or rather were still widening - when Sallis cracked the already
bruised wrist again. Oston clutched the
injured joint and screamed in agony.
Sallis released
the Gift.
Vayburn's mouth
was still dropping open and even the men on the walls above stood silent.
"How in
'Ranva's name did you do that?"
demanded the lieutenant, during a pause in Oston's screaming.
Sallis
shrugged. "Practice," he
said. He turned to the two injured
guardsmen. "I would offer healing,
but my talents lie in other directions."
Vayburn stepped
forward. "Talents? Healing?
You're Gifted!"
Sallis
smiled. "Satisfied I know how to
use my weapons now?"
Vayburn nodded. "I am that. You could rise very quickly in the
Guard," he said. "Bounty
hunters have a very hand-to-mouth existence in this city. But the Guard offers regular pay and square
meals." The older man looked
hopeful.
Sallis shook his
head. "I've come to be a bounty
hunter. There is one thing you can do
for me."
Vayburn waited
and watched a groaning Crallin climb to his feet. Oston stared malevolently at Sallis, but his
screaming had finally ended. He clutched
his shattered wrist.
Sallis's
attention focused on Vayburn. "I'd
like you to tell me why there are already so many bounty hunters in the
city."
Chapter 5
Sandev
While Vayburn
arranged a healer for his two injured guardsmen, Sallis checked on Glyder. His pack leaned in one corner, the tack stacked
beside it. The horse looked happy enough
in a stall and shook his head in greeting.
Sallis entered the stall and nodded in approval. Glyder's brown coat shone and someone had
plaited part of his mane.
Sallis checked
on the animal's hooves, which stablehands sometimes overlooked on other
people's horses, but all four had been well scraped. The straw looked fresh and unsoiled.
Sallis patted
the horse's long nose affectionately.
"Told you
we'd look after him," said Vayburn from the stall door.
"How are
your men?" asked Sallis. "No hard feelings I hope?"
Vayburn
laughed. "They're bitter as a
spring apple," he replied, "but their injuries are better now."
Sallis looked
over his shoulder. "Your healer is
Gifted."
Vayburn
nodded. "Indeed. Her name is Sandev and she wants to meet
you."
The name tickled
something in Sallis's memory, but he couldn't pull it free. "All right," he said, "but I
still want an answer to my question."
"Sure you
do; I haven't forgotten." Vayburn
drew breath.
"And no, I
don't want to join the Guard," said Sallis, before the man spoke again.
"Didn't
know the Gifted were mind-readers," grumbled the lieutenant.
"Some
people are just very predictable," replied Sallis.
Vayburn shook
his head. "You are a find. Such a waste, such a shame."
"I'm here
to be a bounty hunter," insisted Sallis.
"And to be the best bounty hunter.
But why are so many already here?"
Vaynor
sighed. "There have been a string
of thefts from homes of the wealthy.
With every successful theft, the reward money goes up and more hunters
stream into the city. Whoever the thief
is, he's very good."
"Why aren't
bounty hunters welcome?"
Vayburn's
dark-blue eyes looked troubled.
"Because they are more interested in bounty than justice. Several 'suspects' have been brought to us,
and not all were treated as they ought to have been."
"I'm
interested in justice," said Sallis.
"A hunter must have the right man, else he'll never receive his
bounty."
Vayburn nodded
and looked hopeful again. "We need
young men like-"
"The
answer's still no."
The older man
subsided.
"Has the
thief left anything behind during his thefts?" Sallis brought the conversation back to
thieves.
"Only a
corpse at his last job."
"He has
turned murderer?"
Vayburn
nodded. "One of the Senators,
Jarron Lebstan. Must have disturbed him
during the theft. Had to have been him
of course, the city's in an uproar. What
was a simple theft is now murder.
Instead of hard labor, the thief faces death."
"What does
he steal?"
If Vayburn was
surprised at the calm demeanor of the very young man, he showed no sign. "Money, jewelry. We think he melts the gold and silver to sell
on with any gemstones."
"So the
original piece can't be traced," murmured Sallis.
Vayburn
laughed. "Sounds to me as though
you're already practiced at bounty hunting."
Sallis smiled
back. "At long last, people ask the
right questions. I caught my first
criminal before I even knew I could do this.
I have four years experience already."
The older man
looked doubtful.
Sallis finished
petting Glyder. "Right, we'd better
not keep this healer of yours waiting."
"Oh, she's
not our usual healer," said Vayburn.
"She's far too important for that."
"Why does
she want to meet me then?"
"Perhaps
you are more famous than you realize.
Come, I'll take you to her now."
***
Vayburn led
Sallis to an office furnished with a couple of chairs and a small table. A woman that must be Sandev occupied one
chair and beside her stood a female sylph.
Sandev did not
appear very much older than Sallis. Her
eyes shone like sapphires and her light-brown hair framed a rather girlish
face. She wore a simple dress with a
plain leather belt at the waist.
But he could
almost smell the Gift emanating from her.
Girlish or not, he faced a very powerful practitioner. One whose Gift had developed over time. This woman was no youngster, despite
appearances.
"So you are
Sallis ti Ath," she said.
"I am. You must be Sandev." A glance over his shoulder showed that
Vayburn had not stayed. "He wants
me to join the Guard."
Sandev
smiled. "Probably wise
counsel."
Sallis glanced
at the sylph, and wondered what was different about her. She wore a gray work smock and a brown
leather collar - Lyssan was the only sylph he had ever seen without a collar -
and held herself in the servile stance common to all domestic sylphs. Then he saw the difference: a glance at her
earpoints showed a wisp of silvery hair growing from the tip.
"I've come
here to be a bounty hunter," he insisted.
Sandev's smile
broadened, but the sylph glared at him.
"The boy is
impolite, anya," she said.
"He knows
his own mind, Geyn," replied Sandev, peaceably. "Not everybody is frightened of
me."
The sylph
subsided, but carried on glaring at Sallis.
"Elvallon
spoke highly of you," continued Sandev.
Sallis
shrugged. "He abandoned me,"
he replied. "Frightened of my
talents, I suppose." His dark gaze
bored into Geyn. "But his sylph
remains polite."
Sandev smiled
and even Geyn's earpoints twitched as their owner suppressed laughter.
"You may as
well take a seat." Sandev indicated
the empty chair beside her. "Geyn,
will you chase up the alovak, please?"
The sylph
inclined her head and left the room.
"I hope you
will excuse her," said Sandev.
"She's getting old and grows more forthright every day. Hard to believe she is the same shy girl from
forty and more years ago."
Sallis
smiled. "Of course. She clearly adores you."
"Elvallon
told me of your... talents," murmured Sandev. "I've never heard of Healing being used
to kill before."
Sallis blinked
and looked wary. "Not something I
expected either."
"I
know." Sandev sounded
sympathetic. "I've already come
across most of your talents before. But
that one's new." Her sapphire eyes
looked anything but naive now.
"I've
killed nobody," protested Sallis.
"And got no intention of it either."
"Noble
sentiments." Sandev nodded. "Until your life is at risk. And if you persist in this ambition of bounty
hunting, it will be at risk. Hunters make plenty of enemies, who make a
point of catching up with them at a later date."
"I can use
a sword and staff," said Sallis.
Sandev smiled
again. "And I've seen the result of
that, too. You broke poor Oston's wrist;
it proved very difficult to heal."
Sallis
shrugged. "Vayburn told them to try
and kill me."
"He would
have stopped them."
"I didn't
know that."
"Exactly. And that will be the same when you are
threatened. You will have no idea how
far your enemy will go. Will he kill, or
merely inconvenience?" Sandev
stared directly into his eyes. "You
used the Gift while fighting Crallin and Oston, you will use it to help you
whenever you are attacked."
"Yes."
"And one
day, you will use that... other... part of your talent to kill."
Sallis looked
away. "Only in defense of my
life," he muttered.
Sandev abruptly
sat back. "Good. Ah!
Here is our alovak."
Geyn returned
carrying a wooden platter bearing mugs and the all-important alovak can. Sandev changed the subject.
"Have you
given any thought where you are sleeping tonight?" she asked.
Sallis
understood why the subject had changed.
Sylphs were uncomfortable with the Gift at best and rapidly made
themselves scarce when the subject came up.
But Geyn must be at least used to the feel of the Gifted.
"Not yet,
I've been busy fending off attempts to recruit me into the Guard."
"I know
someone who will look after you. For a
fee."
"It usually
is for a fee." Sallis
grimaced. "And my horse?"
"She has
stables too." Sandev smiled. "But first, I would like to hear about
your successes tracking down criminals."
Sallis sniffed
at his alovak before taking the first sip.
He glanced at Geyn, who stood beside her mistress, and drew breath.
***
