Chapter Two

The rabbit felt something hit it in the chest and it fell to the side. It flinched as it died; kicking its back legs in a useless effort to escape whatever misfortune had befallen it. As it stared, its last moments were not of a past life, or of dreams had. It simply wondered what had happened, then slept for the final time.

Kanderil, the Hunter, lifted the corpse to his belt a few moments later and tied it in place with slow precision. The leather thongs were tricky in his thick fingers, but he made no mistake before his supper was secure. Rising to his feet, he looked across the glade. No more rabbits just yet, but they would return as they always did.

Retrieving the arrow, which had passed clear through his mark, he returned to his spot behind a thick cluster of foliage. This would be a good place to set up camp for the night: Little wind, and barely fifty yards from a stream. He could hear the flowing water, mixed with occasional bird song from overhead. There was a faint scent of lavender, also. The ground was dry and the sky was clear. Yes, this would do fine.

Barely ten minutes had passed before another rabbit hopped into view. It was sniffing the air, its eyes wild as it scented the blood of the previous kill. It didn't matter to Kanderil, who had positioned himself downwind of the glade. The fright merely made for an easier target. In one smooth motion he lifted the arrow to the string, aimed the bow, and fired. The rabbit started as soon as it heard the sound of the release, but by then it was too late. The arrow lodged in its hips, pinning it to the ground. It scrabbled frantically for a short while as its assailant moved towards it, then fell still.

Kanderil knelt, lifting his catch and pushing the arrow through it. The rabbit twitched one last time as he did. Kanderil began to tie the corpse beside the first when he heard a snap behind him. Something was moving through the trees, and it wasn't being very careful.

He remained kneeling on the floor. The arrow, sticky against his fingers, was brought to the bow lying on the ground beside him. He waited.

A few moments later, three men appeared. They walked into the clearing, fanning out to keep a clear distance between them. Not complete amateurs then, Kanderil thought as he looked over his shoulder.

All three had swords drawn.

"Afternoon!" called the man in the centre. His voice was cheerful, matching the bright weather. He wore leather gear in black and browns, the jerkin over his chest covering a loose fitting white shirt which billowed around his arms.

"You wear good clothes for a cutthroat," Kanderil replied. His voice was deep and rich, matching instead the trees around them.

The man laughed. "Now, why would you say that?"

"Because they are well made. Also, you advance on a man alone in the woods in greater numbers and with your weapons in hand. I doubt you have come to help me catch rabbits."

The cut throat bowed to him. "We are in the presence of a tactical genius, it seems," he said.

"Hardly. A young girl could spot you were not here to make friends. In future I would recommend a little less haste to arm yourselves if you want the element of surprise."

"Duly noted. Still, it makes the job easier. Hand over your purse and tell us where your horse is tied, and we can all be on our way."

"I have no purse, and I have no horse."

"Odd. I suppose you walked this far out of town."

"Aye, I did. While I was, I saw you three coming. When you gallop across open terrain, it draws attention."

"Maybe he thinks he can pay us off in advice," said the man to the right, whose mouth was pulled up in a permanent sneer by a dreadful scar climbing up his cheek.

The main speaker nodded. "Either way, the advice isn't bad. We'll take it under consideration... Along with your money." He eyed Kanderil, a little of the humour dropping from his features.

Kanderil stood with his bow ready. Two of the three men took a step back.

"You're... a large one," said the man on the left. "Can't say I ever saw a man your size, not even in the ring."

Ignoring the comment Kanderil fixed his gaze on the centre man. "What is your name, lad."

"Not the kind of information I share with my customers."

"Then give me something to call you for now."

"Hawk." The name didn't fit him, but Kanderil nodded his acceptance.

"Then, Hawk. Here is one more tip. Walk away. Find someone else. I do not care who, but do so if you want to live this day."

"You think you can best three armed men with one arrow?" Hawk's smile returned for a moment as he flexed his fingers around the hilt of his sword.

"I do not need to. However it turns out between me and your two friends, you will not share the spoils." He nodded down to the bow in his hands, giving a gentle tug on the notched arrow.

The three men exchanged glances. Hawk dipped his head for a moment, before looking to the sky. His grin was broad, lighting up his handsome features well. "Ah, but it is a good day for it!"

"Is it good enough?"

Hawk sighed. "That's a tough question, but neither can I risk losing face in front of these two bastards. I'd never hear the end of it."

Kanderil contemplated this for a moment. "Here, then." He unfastened the buckle of his poacher's belt and drew it clear from his waist. Then he tossed the belt across the clearing, the rabbits flailing behind like windsocks. They landed within three feet of the man on the left, who took another step back.

"Rabbits?" Hawk asked, his voice bemused.

"You can keep the belt."

"You pay for your life with this?"

"No, lad. I pay for yours."

Hawk met Kanderil's eyes, but not for long. He nodded to his companion on his right, who picked up the belt with a mutter under his breath. They looked to each other one final time before departing without another word.

Kanderil waited for another half-hour before turning his attention back to his hunt.

They did not return.

Whoever opened the door tried to do so with care, but it was a bad effort. The latch caught and the hinge creaked. Sarene lifted her head, rising to lie back on her elbows. The figure moved inside slowly, turning to close the door with the same misguided delicacy. They paused for a moment, resting one hand against the door frame, then turned to move towards a roll of bedding in the far corner of the home.

Sarene frowned. Jared was moving like he was drunk. The aroma which accompanied him supported the notion.

Her brother knelt to pull out the bedding roll. He wobbled a little, requiring a hand to steady himself against the floor. Jared took a few moments to gather himself before grasping the bedding in both hands. Flicking it out with one rough motion, the bedding offered muffled applause as it flared open.

The other end of the roll ricocheted against a mug sitting atop the dining table, which dropped from the table and clattered against the floor.

"Sorry, sorry," Jared whispered. Sarene could see him holding out his hands in a gesture of apology to the rest of his family, more than one of which were now stirring in their beds. She would have laughed had she not found the display so... Well, so...

Disappointing.

A few minutes later Jared was snoring on his bedding, not having bothered to find a blanket. Sarene went back to staring at the ceiling, something which she was becoming rather good at.

Later that morning, Sarene was sitting on an overturned bucket watching Taylei pin up sheets to dry. Taylei was often the one doing laundry, but she seemed to enjoy it. Sarene remembered her once mentioning that she found the hanging and gathering of the house linen to be 'relaxing'. She personally couldn't see the connection.

"He's been drunk almost every night he's been here," Taylei was saying around the clothes peg held between her teeth. "He usually makes it back before the rest of us get to bed, but even then I can tell."

Sarene nodded, turning her head towards the path leading up to their house. The day was slightly overcast for the first time in almost three weeks, but there once again seemed to be little chance of rain.

Someone was walking up the path towards them. At this distance, Sarene couldn't work out who it was, but they were definitely female.

"I mean, maybe they don't let him drink in the army. Maybe he just wants to have fun, y'know?" Taylei took the peg in her hand, clipping it into place over a bundle of blanket. "Wish he'd tell us, though. It's odd how he just disappears. He never used to."