The Huntress Read online

  Copyright © 2019-20 – Rina S. Mamoon.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be produced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior permission of the publisher or author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author or publisher at the website below.

  Note: This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to those mentioned is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-7771315-0-0

  Author Website: rinasmamoon.ca

  Chapter One

  The Week After

  It was a cold morning as Mara Ashwood wandered across a snowy field. She held a funeral urn close to her chest. Her tattered black cape fluttered in the frigid air. Mara never liked the cold, but she kept going until she spotted a mound. A fresh layer of snow almost hid the grave.

  “Hi Allen,” Mara began. She reached for her mask and pulled it down. Despite her human appearance, she kept the habit of hiding her face. Her light brown eyes drifted to the right, where the ruins of Golden Mountain stood.

  Today was the second of January, 1000ED, the one-week anniversary of the deadly incident. Mara switched her attention back onto the grave. She glanced down at the funeral urn in her hands.

  “James is here with me,” Mara spoke, cradling the urn close to her bosom. She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.”

  She could still see James’ face twisted in pain as Commander White took his life. “His body was taken to the hospital. The doctors had already burned it. At least they were kind enough to let me bury his remains.”

  After placing the urn on the ground, Mara crouched down and pulled the earth away using her hands. She kept going until Allen’s remains became visible. Mara carefully placed the funeral urn beside the box, reuniting the two brothers. A bell tolled while she refilled the grave. The City of Mirahyll was mourning the guardsmen who lost their lives last week. Upon finishing, Mara heard the galloping of horses.

  She rose to her feet and looked back. A wooden carriage pulled by two brown horses drew closer. Within ten feet, the carriage stopped. Three guardsmen poured out. The fourth was a woman with pale skin and short black hair. Her greyish-blue coat decorated in silver plating was familiar. The female guardsman faced Mara with steel green eyes.

  “Mara Ashwood, I presume,” the female guardsman spoke, holding her hands behind her back.

  “Yes,” Mara answered. “Is there a problem?”

  “Chancellor Davis requests your presence.”

  Mara tilted her head to the right. “For a monster contract?”

  “It’s nothing like that. Both chancellors are meeting in Mirahyll to discuss the Faith.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Mara murmured. “The referendum was cast a few days ago.”

  “Correct,” the woman said. “I’m sure you are pleased with the results.”

  Mara furrowed her eyebrows. “And you’re not?”

  The black-haired woman shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m just as relieved to see them gone.” Then, “Allow me to introduce myself.” She held out her hand. “My name is Beatrice, Captain of the Guardsmen. We’ve met before.”

  Mara studied her face. “You led the attack on the Temple of Kallisto. If not for the Guardsmen, Mr. White and I wouldn’t be here.” She shook the captain’s hand. “My name’s Mara Ashwood, the Huntress.”

  “I know who you are,” Beatrice said flatly, “and I know what you are.”

  Mara paused. “You know I’m not human?”

  “I know about the undying. I was a Silver Thorn before Master Harold dismantled the guild.” Then she asked, “Do you remember that day?”

  “Commander White invited the men to join the Holy Blades,” Mara replied. “Were you one of the women he insulted?”

  “Jen and I. Not that it matters anymore…”

  Mara grew silent as a grim look decorated her face.

  Beatrice kept watching her. “To think a woman bested Commander White.”

  “It wasn’t my proudest moment,” Mara grumbled.

  “The right choice is never easy.” Beatrice glanced back at the carriage. “We should return to the city. The chancellors are waiting for us.”

  “Do I have to?” Mara questioned. “The referendum had passed. The people have spoken.”

  “I insist.” The captain gestured to the coach. “There is plenty to discuss.”

  Mara wondered what was going on. She gazed at the grave and sighed. Then she accompanied the guardsmen. Once everyone was inside, the transport began to move. Mara suspected this would be a very long day.

  * * *

  Mara sat beside Beatrice during the ride. The other three guardsmen were across from them. The huntress gazed down at Nightingale, which rested on her lap.

  “Those who fled to Corlin have returned,” Beatrice began.

  “You mean those who conspired to awaken the Dark One?” Mara questioned.

  “We don’t know how many were involved, but they remain a problem.”

  “How?”

  “They claim their religion is under attack due to the referendum.”

  Mara raised an eyebrow. “Yet they worship false gods.”

  Beatrice sighed, “Very few witnesses remain.”

  “Meaning Mr. White and me?” Mara inquired.

  The captain nodded. “Those in a coma died as if they had lost the will to live. And Kallikratés remains prevalent in Corlin and Loris.”

  Mara gazed out the window. “How many returned?”

  “Six hundred in the last four days. They tried to flood the ballots in favour of the Faith. But the people have spoken.”

  Mara gave a wry smile underneath her mask. “As it should.”

  The captain kept her arms folded while looking out the window on her side. “They’ll fight to keep Kallikratés here, and they have the support of Corlin and Loris.”

  “I thought Corlin wanted nothing to do with Ardana,” Mara said.

  “The events of last week has drawn their attention. And they’re likely aware of Ardana seeking an alliance with Thoron.”

  “An envoy was sent?” Mara asked.

  “Yes, after repairing Har’ Yhan’s port. We’ll find out in a few weeks if Thoron accepts.”

  “Could’ve sent me.” Mara planned on travelling to Thoron because the eastern land possessed the one thing that could lift her curse. And she had something they wanted—the soul of Aazalith.

  * * *

  Despite the solemn occasion, there was the odd ruckus upon the snowy streets of Mirahyll. While entering the city, Mara spotted a group of nobles being harassed by those from the lower-class.

  “Away! Away!” A lower-class man threw rotten food at the nobles.

  The upper-class cried out in distress as they took cover.

  Another lower-class man shouted, “We don’t want your kind here!”

  Beatrice could have stepped out and stopped this, yet she did not budge, nor did she order the guardsmen to intervene. “Such squabbles are the norm, considering these people abandoned everyone else to die.”

  “Thought the guardsmen bring law and order?” Mara asked.

  “We’ve much more to focus on, such as dealing with the Blackthorns.” Beatrice gazed at Mara. “I heard you’ve done a number on them.”

  “I did. But what about Theo?”

  “He can’t hide forever.” The captain looked out the window. “We’re almost here.”

  Gazing out the window, Mara saw two people mugging a noblewoman. The thieves had their faces covered with
cloths. The middle-aged woman cried for help, but no one came. The two boors fled with her jewellery and coin purse. The incident made Mara think of Mr. White, hoping he was okay.

  Once the carriage stopped, Beatrice opened the door. “We’re here.”

  The captain was the first to leave, followed by Mara and the guardsmen. As Mara followed Beatrice to the Council Hall, she noticed a familiar old blacksmith. The burly man owned long grey hair, which was tied back. A stringy beard descended to his upper chest while a thick moustache adorned his wrinkled face. He wore a thick cloak over his attire, though she could see the apron he always wore.

  “Talon,” Mara called. “What are you doing here?”

  The blacksmith saw her and waved. “Ah, fancy meeting you here,” Talon greeted gruffly. He glanced at Beatrice. “And with the Captain of the Guardsmen.”

  Beatrice held her hands behind her back. “Hello, Talon.”

  “Greetings to you as well.” He returned his attention to Mara. “I see my services helped you survive.”

  “True,” Mara said, “or I wouldn’t be standing here.”

  The blacksmith’s dark eyes fell onto her sword. “How’s the beauty?”

  Mara unsheathed the sabre from its black and gold sheath, revealing the dark gold and silver blade. “Nightingale has been through a lot, but seems okay.”

  Talon studied the sword. “Hmm, the pommel looks a little warped.”

  “Is it?” Mara took a closer look. She never noticed the flaw, but Talon was right. Aazalith’s essence took a toll on her sword, yet it was the only known flaw.

  “At least I can fix it,” Talon said. “Come by my workshop later.”

  Mara changed the topic while sheathing Nightingale. “Did you find Dad’s diagrams useful?”

  “Been through half the book. If Bear were alive, he would’ve been the only one worthy of being a master blacksmith.”

  “Speaking of which, I hope you took the offer,” Beatrice addressed him.

  Talon frowned at the captain and folded his arms. He grew silent.

  Beatrice took notice and sighed, “Talon…”

  Mara switched her gaze from the blacksmith to the captain. “What’s going on?”

  “The chancellor promised to name me a master blacksmith, if I return,” Talon revealed.

  “You belong here,” Beatrice said. “We need you.”

  “Do you?” Talon questioned. “The city did nothing when those damned Holy Blades destroyed my last workshop. What’s worse? You went back to that crook!”

  Beatrice frowned at him. Mara figured Talon remained sour, although she was surprised to see him here. Talon avoided Mirahyll like the plague since losing his last forge. Now Davis wanted him back because there was no one else in Ardana to forge weapons.

  “They haven’t found Edwin yet?” Mara asked.

  Talon and Beatrice shook their heads in unison.

  “No one has found the weasel yet,” Talon replied, looking at Beatrice.

  The captain held her ground. “If sighted, he’ll be arrested without question.”

  The old blacksmith gazed at Beatrice. “Very well. Find him, and I may change my mind.”

  “You have my word,” the captain reassured.

  Talon nodded, then left the Council Hall. Beatrice remained still for a moment. As soon as the tension lifted, she moved forward while Mara followed.

  “Talon is passionate about his craft,” Beatrice said. “He’s the only blacksmith who gives a damn.”

  “Why didn’t you help him?” Mara asked.

  “We couldn’t.” Beatrice stopped and looked at her sharply. “Keep this between us,” she said quietly. “Davis was a puppet whose strings were pulled by Commander White.”

  “And Kallisto controlled the commander,” Mara added.

  The captain sighed, “We had no power until Kallikratés fell.”

  Mara knew all along. Lady Isabella, the former ruler of Hema, had said similar things about Davis.

  “The chancellor finally stood up to the Faith,” Mara said.

  “He did.” Beatrice turned around. “Come, they’re waiting for us.”

  The captain escorted Mara into the chancellor’s office.

  Walking through the doors, Mara saw a large crowd gathered before her. She recognized Davis, Evan, and some of the aldermen. Davis looked less stressful, having fewer wrinkles on his face. The dark circles underneath his eyes had nearly faded. Fewer grey strands sat in his hair and his beard. He wore a clean black suit.

  Very little had changed with Evan, though he seemed to have more colour than before. The young dark-haired man’s attire consisted of a black suit with some golden trimmings.

  Mara gazed at the aldermen, recognizing Nigel of Ozin and Jonathan of Har’ Yhan. Nigel had been scowling at her since she entered the office. Mara figured the older man remained sour over Ozin’s destruction, but the circumstances were out of hand. She turned her gaze onto another middle-aged man and recognized his dark skin and long greying hair. Elder Ravenclaw was also present. What was he doing here?

  Several people in fancy attire also attended the meeting. They were nobles and members of the Faith. Many of them watched Mara with apprehension.

  “The slayer of gods,” a male follower called her.

  Several guardsmen were at the scene to keep the peace.

  Davis rose to his feet and gazed at Mara. “Greetings, Miss Ashwood.”

  “Likewise, Chancellor Davis.” Mara looked at Evan. “And Interim Chancellor Evan as well.”

  The interim chancellor rose to his feet and gave a bow. Accompanying him were four knights. The huntress returned a similar gesture before switching her attention to Ravenclaw.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Mara addressed the elder.

  “The Stone Mages shall become citizens,” Davis explained, “as part of our integration and reconciliation pact. They’ll be relocated to Haranta Village, to have better access to services. Elder Ravenclaw shall be its alderman.”

  Kallikratés’ followers grumbled to each other.

  “Savages in Ardana?”

  “Unthinkable!”

  Mara wasn’t surprised by their racism. For many years, the followers had thought the Stone Mages as savages and heathens. She also recalled that the Faith had pushed them to the Outer Frontier. To her, it was another reason to banish Kallikratés.

  “Great idea,” she said, “considering they helped save this land.”

  Ravenclaw smiled in response.

  Ozin’s alderman stormed over to them. “What about Ozin Village?”

  Everyone looked at him.

  “We haven’t forgotten the people of Ozin,” Davis addressed him. “Once the area is declared safe, we’ll start rebuilding.”

  “With all due respect, that could take months!” Nigel glared at Mara and Ravenclaw. “Since the Stone Mages have Andel, Haranta should be ours!”

  “The Stone Mages deserve Haranta Village,” Mara said flatly. “Your people are fine where they are.”

  Davis nodded. “Mirahyll has plenty of amenities to accommodate the displaced villagers.”

  Ignoring the chancellor, Nigel glared at Mara through his round glasses. “How dare you?” He pointed at her. “You caused Ozin’s destruction!”

  “I saved your people!” Mara argued. “You executed me for a crime I didn’t commit! And I slew the White Lady for you!”

  Everyone gawked at her, and then Ozin’s alderman.

  “What?” Jonathan questioned. “This is the same woman who saved Har’ Yhan from the Siren. And if not for her, the town would’ve been destroyed by the Dark One!”

  “She also saved my people from the wendigo,” Ravenclaw added.

  Har’ Yhan’s alderman folded his arms. “What about Cerebell?”

  Mara pondered Jonathan’s words. “It’s possible.” She gazed at Ravenclaw. “Cerebell might be more accommodating, and migration would be easier.”

  “What about the darkling sealed within th
e Black Tower?” Davis questioned.

  “Anna is dead,” Mara answered. “I had to save Commander White after he tampered with the seal.”

  The disciples appeared unhappy with her comments about the late commander.

  “So, the city is safe?” Davis asked.

  “Yes,” Mara replied.

  The elder rubbed his chin. “I see,” he said calmly. Ravenclaw gazed at Nigel. “Very well, we shall take Cerebell. The people of Ozin can have Haranta Village.”

  Nigel gawked at Ravenclaw. He should have been thrilled about obtaining Haranta, but he looked unsatisfied. Mara wondered what was going through his head. Glancing at Ravenclaw, she saw how composed and calm he was in comparison. Stone Mages were supposed to be savages and heretics, as well as being uneducated and inferior. However, Ravenclaw’s presence seemed to shatter some of their views.

  Davis gazed at Nigel. “Is this okay with you?”

  Ozin’s alderman snapped out of it, then broke eye contact with Ravenclaw.

  “Yes, it’s fine,” Nigel replied. The frown remained on his face as he returned to his seat.

  Davis cleared his throat. “Onto the next item—the complete dismantling of Kallikratés.”

  Most of the followers shot up to their feet.

  “This is an attack on religion!” shouted one of them.

  Mara rolled her eyes. “The Faith cared only for power. Everyone knows this.”

  The followers glared at her, but she didn’t care.

  Beatrice stepped forward. “We obtained a confession from Vernon. There was no prophecy of the Cursed Herald. Kallikratés plotted to awaken the Dark One, due to their waning status in Ardana.”

  Some gasped as others murmured. Some of the followers, however, were unmoved by the claims.

  “These are lies,” said a nobleman. “Lies spread by the Cursed Herald!”

  Mara remained silent, yet her anger began to build. These people worshipped one of her murderers.

  “Miss Ashwood,” Evan addressed her.

  Mara snapped out of her thoughts and gazed back at him. “Yes?”

  “If Kallikratés conspired to break the seven seals, then Lady Isabella…”

  Mara frowned. “Commander White used me to kill her, just like he did to Heru.”