Hunters - Rallying the Troops. Chp 2.

Rallying the Troops

Under Construction

Sunset came surprisingly quickly, so it seemed as Barros prepared the flare. It was a simple design that was highly flammable and could be launched far into the air. How it caught Hunters attention, Barros did not know, but he didn’t care as when he saw one, he went straight to it.
The crimson sun was still not completely set but now would be the best time to call the other Hunters.

Slowly rising out of his underground cave, crossbow and eyes scanning from left to right and back again, Barros crouched low and struck his flint on the flare. It immediately began to spark and splutter as he pointed it skyward. As he leapt backwards the flare shot up several hundred metres in the air. It exploded and droplets of vampire blood fell back to earth. Now he understood why Hunters were called to the flares.

Opening the door to the windmill and quickly closing it, Barros sprinted up the stairs to the abandoned balcony. Here he would have a decent view of everyone approaching and could easily shoot if he identified a Vampire. Rhorn was likely to have dozens of them swarming throughout the city; Sophia would be rallying them to her banner tonight.

‘At any promise of blood, the bastards would show and Sophia would promise them with mine’ thought Barros. Hunters were the only beings that could turn a Vampire into a nightmare. Full of regret, Barros turned back to his full size crossbow that was pointed towards the now extinct flare.

After waiting in the growing darkness for nearly an hour a horse could be heard galloping towards the windmill. Several minutes of tense waiting pasted and the horse and rider came into view, however only as a shadow. The rider climbed down from his large horse and strode over to the flare to examine it. Lighting a torch, Barros threw it down towards the ground and in the red of the fire, the man came into view.
The man had greying neck length hair that ran down his face like a silvery mane covering it almost as effectively as Barros’s cowl. In the firelight Barros could see the scowl he wore that was marred by several scars running from his nose to his chin.

He was clearly a Hunter as the man drew a smaller crossbow with the ‘z’ shape underneath the main shaft. This was where the magazine was entered and enabled Hunters to drop handfuls of Vampires rapidly. He was an experienced Hunter much like Barros and his eyes immediately moved to the shadow that was on the windmill.

‘I see your crossbow, tell me who you are’, shouted Barros towards the scarred man.

‘Piero Raldfast of the West Anacore Huntrey. Head of the West Anacore Huntrey’, he called back up, demanding some sort of respect. Barros gave him none.

‘No shit, I’ve heard of you. But what the hell are you doing down here. I thought Heads gave themselves tasks that are closer to home’.

‘Yes well lad, I chose this task aye, chasing down some big hotshot Countess. Apparently she married and had a baby to a Hunter, do you know anything about that? But as you flared I suppose I should help you out’.

‘Yeah come up. We’ll see if anyone else shows up. But I hate to tell you, I was that Hunter that married the Countess’.

The old Hunter shook his head and quickly ascended the windmill as he cursed about incompetent Hunters and how anyone else could have seen through the disguise of a Countess. When he walked onto the balcony, Piero fell silent and drew up his full size crossbow like Barros had done. They stood in silence constantly scanning from the city all the way to the foot of the windmill. Half an hour passed and Piero had begun to relax when he saw a flame burst over the city walls.

Not any sooner that the first had died down a second had erupted. Then a third. Shouts and screams now carried from the city to the windmill on the gentle night breeze.

‘Looks and sounds like one of our lot is having some fun’, said Barros.

‘Indeed, and he appears to be coming this way’, replied Piero.

Sure enough the Hunter was moving southward through the city at a rather rapid pace. The flame and screams were getting much closer as the minutes past. Barros and Piero tightened the strings on their crossbows. A man with a torch ran out of the city gates with a trail of flame behind him. He wore a grey and green overcoat and carried a crossbow and held his sword in his other hand. The man was fast, he probably had been given speed at the blood ritual. His pursuers were falling behind rapidly, some were Vampires and some weren’t.

Finishing off the remaining Vampires the man sprinted into the trees beyond the field in order to lose the people following him. He emerged several minutes later and he ran towards the windmill. Barros threw another torch towards the ground in order to see his face.

He was a young man, probably just younger than Barros. He had a fresh face with a small goatee growing. His Hunter gear had been cut at the sleeves and he wore a half cape instead of the full one that Barros and Piero wore. The only Hunters that wore this casual came from Renor but they were usually more lethal and less friendly then others. This man was tall and well muscled and he carried himself with ease. His nose was short, maybe broken and he had steel coloured eyes.

‘I see your from Renor, friend’, called out Piero.

‘That I am Corian’, he shouted back.

‘You know who you’re talking to lad?’ said Barros. ‘Piero Raldfast this guy is. Head of West Anacore Huntrey’.

The man didn’t show any surprise but his eyes flicked back to Piero immediately. He began walking towards the windmill when Barros fired a bolt towards him which struck the ground a foot in front of him.

‘Wait up laddie, you haven’t told us who you are yet. Don’t think you’ll come any closer’.

‘If you must know, the name’s Grayson Yold. Third son and only remaining of Lord Tobias Yold’, he said in a proud voice.

Barros whistled but Piero still wasn’t satisfied. He clearly didn’t trust anyone from Renor, however Tobias Yold had become one of his friends over the years.

‘Name your father’s first kill. What rank and where. What weapon he used’.

‘My father travelled to the Renor Arena, he killed a Count by the name of Corde Winston with his bare hands. Better then what you do Piero’, said Grayson smiling.

Piero growled at Grayson and told him to come up. They’d wait until dawn to see if anymore Hunters arrived. The hours crept past and one Hunter remained on watch at all times. The other two slept, tucked in the relative shelter of the windmill. Barros stayed awake for some time watching the Renori Hunter. He did all that he had to do, and for that Barros commended him. After a while he was sure he’d grow to like the man as he rolled over in his cloak and fell asleep.

Dawn had risen without anything arising in the night like Barros expected they would. ‘Better being prepared then being surprised’, as he thought bitterly of surprises that Sophia could have install for him. He had half expected an army to rise during the middle of the night and come charging at the windmill were the Hunters had been camped.

Cooking a breakfast over a small fire the three decided it would be best to go look around the city, trying to spot any possible new recruits that Sophia had bought in during the last night. The Hunters split up at the gate and would meet at the city square at sundown. Then the real hunting would begin. The market place would be the ideal place to search for Vampires, if there were any about.

It was a dangerous job, but it had to be done if they were to succeed. A dagger or claw could emerge in their backs at any time, but the Hunters were prepared. They spread out, enough not to be seen together in the same place, but close enough to draw one of their hip crossbows and shoot at a potential assassin.

Pausing just inside the city gate, taking a deep breath Piero smelt the air. He looked disgusted but kept inhaling with his eyes closed. Grabbing his hip crossbow, he blindly fired into the air before opening his eyes. The other Hunters followed its arc as it raced over the buildings. A flame leapt over the tallest then retreated as quickly as it had appeared.

‘There is at least two dozen in the city’, said Piero informingly as he opened his eyes. ‘I just shot one, so best case scenario; we have twenty three to go’.

‘What a relief’, replied Grayson grinning. ‘I’ll have one spare bolt left in my quiver when we are done then. Maybe more if I feel like sharing’.
Piero pointed at Grayson accusingly boring his eyes into him. ‘That cockiness is what gets you killed boy. You only have one life, so don’t lose it’.

Spreading out roughly fifty meters apart the Hunters kept their hands close to their swords and crossbows. Venturing into the growing crowd in the marketplace the Hunters occasionally lost sight of each other. Exotic smells, sounds and sights such as gigantic fruits from the Galasos Islands drew the eyes of any other man. The Hunters were disciplined and kept their eyes peeled for any threat.
Scanning for unusual activity or people who had ring fingers longer than their middle fingers was a difficult task in a city that housed several thousand people who all seemed to be out shopping at the same time.

Barros saw a man approaching Grayson quickly barging through the crowd forcing aside families and single travellers. Without thinking, Barros’s crossbow was called to his hand. He pointed it to where the man would be in several seconds hoping for a clear shot.

He fired and the hiss – twang of the crossbow was heard by nobody. The bolt now released from its iron and wood prison leapt across the space of the marketplace in a second. It skimmed over people’s heads like a larger and more dangerous dragonfly as they cried out in alarm. Reaching its intended angle, the bolt dropped into the man’s shoulder.

He yelled and dropped onto the cobblestone thoroughfare. Grayson spun around and immediately, his eyes spotted the dying man. Piero dashed over drawing his knife as to end the threat. The man’s eyes widened as he was surrounded by the Hunters.

‘Please’, he gasped through blood now slowly exiting from his slightly open mouth. ‘I’m here not to harm you but to warn you’.

Raising his left arm to the rooftops weakly he pointed. ‘She comes’, he said as he died.

The Hunters turned at looked at the mark he had pointed to. Standing on the edge of the market square was Sophia dressed in a long flowing midnight blue robe that protected her from the sun. The crowd around her were clearly Vampires. They wove through the other townsfolk stabbing at random, making the streets fill with blood.

‘Well, looks like the shit’s hit the roof now’, said Grayson.

Barros couldn’t help smiling as he drew his sword. It was going to get messy.