his—neither reproachful nor
teasing—there was something in his words that shook Leila. “I can’t very well change
my way of life at this stage of the game,” she continued. “I’ve got too much blood
on my hands.”
“It comes off if you wash them.”
“Why would you say something like that? You trying to put me out of work?”
The young man made his way to the door. “The next time you see me,” he said, “you’d
better forget the small talk and just start shooting. I won’t hold back either.”
“That’s just fine by me,” she replied. There was a grieving hue in Leila’s eyes.
“Your brothers wouldn’t make much of a stink over losing one little sister,” the shadowy
figure said as it faded into the sunlight. “Any girl who cries out for her mother
as she lays dying isn’t cut out for Hunting.”
And then the youth was gone. Like a shadow melting in the sun.
After he left, his words continued to ring in Leila’s ears.
The girl’s eyes bored into the closed door, and something in them blurred softly.
Just as she was going for the door, a thin hand caught hold of her sleeve.
“Grove?!”
“Leila . . . you’re not gonna listen . . . to what that guy said, are you?” The voice
from under the blankets sounded furtive and twitching. “You wouldn’t listen to that
guy . . .go off and leave me and the others . . . now would you, Leila? Don’t you
forget about . . . you-know-what . . . ”
“Quit it!”
The scrawny hand Leila tried to shake off held her entirely too tenaciously.
“Don’t you ever forget that, Leila,” Groveck rasped. “You belong to all of us . .
. ”
—
III
—
The shadowy figures of Kyle and Borgoff clung like geckos to the rocky face overlooking
the village of the Barbarois. The mountain, which was insurmountable to the average
traveler, hadn’t served as much of a deterrent against this pair.
Sprawled on a flat rock and inspecting the village through electronic binoculars,
Kyle raised his head and said to Borgoff, “Damn it, the carriage and whatever’s in
it went into the forest, but they ain’t come out. You think maybe they’ve already
slipped back out the same way they got in?”
“Don’t know.” Borgoff shook his head. “And it’s not like we can just waltz up and
ask them, now can we?”
Kyle fell into silence. Somehow they’d managed to climb partway up the mountain without
being detected, but even this pair of crafty devils were hesitant to sneak into the
village. In fact, their Hunter instincts told them it’d be dangerous to get any closer
in broad daylight.
Even though Barbarois seemed like a run-of-the-mill hidden village, with no sign of
watchtowers or lookouts, the fact was that in the nondescript shade of the rocks and
groves there lurked those with sight as keen as swords.
Conversing only with their eyes, the brothers decided to sneak in by night, when the
watch would slacken.
The Marcus brothers knew that the Noble who owned the carriage had called on this
village hoping to retain some guards. If possible, the brothers wanted to finish him
before he could do so, but, now that it’d gone this far, that was no longer an option.
The two brothers weren’t at all confident they could slip into this mob of freaks—who
were their equals or perhaps even their superiors in battle—and accomplish their aims.
Under the circumstances, there was no choice but to wait for the carriage to come
out, but they had misgivings about that, too. They couldn’t imagine how the carriage
had possibly been brought into the village, and the prospects of it slipping out unseen
were extremely good. They wouldn’t know it had left until it was gone.
If only they knew the Noble’s destination they could at least head him off, but they
didn’t even know their prey’s name. At the rate things are going, we’ll never land that bounty —the Marcus brothers grew impatient at that
teasing—there was something in his words that shook Leila. “I can’t very well change
my way of life at this stage of the game,” she continued. “I’ve got too much blood
on my hands.”
“It comes off if you wash them.”
“Why would you say something like that? You trying to put me out of work?”
The young man made his way to the door. “The next time you see me,” he said, “you’d
better forget the small talk and just start shooting. I won’t hold back either.”
“That’s just fine by me,” she replied. There was a grieving hue in Leila’s eyes.
“Your brothers wouldn’t make much of a stink over losing one little sister,” the shadowy
figure said as it faded into the sunlight. “Any girl who cries out for her mother
as she lays dying isn’t cut out for Hunting.”
And then the youth was gone. Like a shadow melting in the sun.
After he left, his words continued to ring in Leila’s ears.
The girl’s eyes bored into the closed door, and something in them blurred softly.
Just as she was going for the door, a thin hand caught hold of her sleeve.
“Grove?!”
“Leila . . . you’re not gonna listen . . . to what that guy said, are you?” The voice
from under the blankets sounded furtive and twitching. “You wouldn’t listen to that
guy . . .go off and leave me and the others . . . now would you, Leila? Don’t you
forget about . . . you-know-what . . . ”
“Quit it!”
The scrawny hand Leila tried to shake off held her entirely too tenaciously.
“Don’t you ever forget that, Leila,” Groveck rasped. “You belong to all of us . .
. ”
—
III
—
The shadowy figures of Kyle and Borgoff clung like geckos to the rocky face overlooking
the village of the Barbarois. The mountain, which was insurmountable to the average
traveler, hadn’t served as much of a deterrent against this pair.
Sprawled on a flat rock and inspecting the village through electronic binoculars,
Kyle raised his head and said to Borgoff, “Damn it, the carriage and whatever’s in
it went into the forest, but they ain’t come out. You think maybe they’ve already
slipped back out the same way they got in?”
“Don’t know.” Borgoff shook his head. “And it’s not like we can just waltz up and
ask them, now can we?”
Kyle fell into silence. Somehow they’d managed to climb partway up the mountain without
being detected, but even this pair of crafty devils were hesitant to sneak into the
village. In fact, their Hunter instincts told them it’d be dangerous to get any closer
in broad daylight.
Even though Barbarois seemed like a run-of-the-mill hidden village, with no sign of
watchtowers or lookouts, the fact was that in the nondescript shade of the rocks and
groves there lurked those with sight as keen as swords.
Conversing only with their eyes, the brothers decided to sneak in by night, when the
watch would slacken.
The Marcus brothers knew that the Noble who owned the carriage had called on this
village hoping to retain some guards. If possible, the brothers wanted to finish him
before he could do so, but, now that it’d gone this far, that was no longer an option.
The two brothers weren’t at all confident they could slip into this mob of freaks—who
were their equals or perhaps even their superiors in battle—and accomplish their aims.
Under the circumstances, there was no choice but to wait for the carriage to come
out, but they had misgivings about that, too. They couldn’t imagine how the carriage
had possibly been brought into the village, and the prospects of it slipping out unseen
were extremely good. They wouldn’t know it had left until it was gone.
If only they knew the Noble’s destination they could at least head him off, but they
didn’t even know their prey’s name. At the rate things are going, we’ll never land that bounty —the Marcus brothers grew impatient at that
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