Taste of the Hunt Read online

  Taste Of The Hunt

  Matt Mememaro

  For Daniel

  Contents

  Map

  1. A Name

  2. The Black Shards

  3. Stone Cold

  4. The Arena

  5. Underbelly

  6. Reunion

  7. Theft

  8. Scars of Barros

  9. A Debt of Blood

  10. The Labyrinth

  11. Death Match

  12. Reiner

  13. Escape From The Arena

  14. Ambush on the High Road

  15. Arrival

  16. A Dark Place

  17. The Huntrey

  18. Enemies and Mysteries

  19. Forthcomings

  20. Transformations

  21. Deer Stalking

  22. First Hunt

  23. First Kill

  24. Two Lovers Cross

  25. The Pairing

  26. The Blood Ceremony

  27. Return To Rhorn

  28. Memories of a Past War

  29. Breach in the Nest

  30. Fall

  31. Aftermath

  32. New Refuge

  33. New Prey

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Matt Mememaro

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in this work come wholly from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  ©Matt Mememaro 2018

  This book is copyright. All rights reserved.

  Apart for fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without the written permission of the author. Extract may be used for the purpose of reviews.

  Created with Vellum

  1

  A Name

  Lois Behan looked over Barros Toldar’s shoulder as he guided his horse, Azurus, into a narrow rocky valley. Crows circled overhead, searching for a place to land. The barren landscape and the hot sun in this dry part of southern Renor made a perfect home for the Blood Brotherhood, a group of notorious assassins renowned for the vicious methods they used when carrying out assignments.

  In the middle of the valley, hidden amongst rocks and bare trees, lay a stone pillar with the black cape and red dagger ensign of the Brotherhood emblazoned upon it. Barros slowed Azurus to a halt before dismounting, walking silently around the pillar, his footsteps echoing off the flat white stones laid in a circle around it.

  “They know we’re here,” Barros said.

  “Where are they?” Lois asked. She drew the two-handed broadsword she carried on her back from its sheath.

  “Put that away, you’re going to join them, not kill them,” Barros said.

  There was a hiss before a loud grinding sound, gears turning on each other. The staircase opened up before their eyes, descending into the darkness that awaited below.

  “Of course, they’re underground,” Barros said. “Come on girl, the sooner you’re down there the sooner you can begin training.”

  Before Barros could utter another word, the assassins began to appear, stepping up from the stairs, fanning out around the Hunter and the young warrior. A total of twelve assassins made their presence known, yet Barros knew many more lay below. Each of the killers wore a black cloak, completed with a deep cowl that kept their faces well concealed. Lois spotted a tunic with blood red trim underneath the cloak, each with a different pattern.

  “What do you want, Hunter?” the tallest assassin asked. His voice sounded like it echoed in the cave below them.

  “Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?” Barros asked. His hand slid to his sword’s hilt. The blade would be out of its sheath in the blink of an eye.

  “I would be Brother Marco,” the assassin said. “And I ask you again, Hunter. What business do you have here? Not many know where we live.”

  “I’m one of the few that do,” Barros said. “I bring you a student, to learn in your ways. She was trained by one of the finest swordsmen in Taagras.”

  “She is but a girl, one that would only serve to warm my bed. She would have no place but in my bed if she was to join us. An unproven girl has no other place amongst us,” Marco said.

  “What do you mean I’d only serve in your bed?” Lois asked. Her nostrils flared and she dismounted from Azurus’ broad back. “Malvrok trained me at his Fortress! I beat every fucking man that I faced while I was training!”

  “Malvrok the Exile? We received word only yesterday that the Fortress he had built was burned to the ground a week ago. I assume you’re one of his warrior protégés? We were under the impression that nobody escaped Councilor Graytooth. He sent two of our own to take down Malvrok once and they never returned. So you tell me why we should take a bitch that was trained by him!” Marco drew a one handed crossbow, pointing it at Lois.

  “You don’t want to do that, assassin,” Barros said. “If you pull that trigger everyone here and everyone below ground will die. My friend and I will be the only ones to walk away. Put the gun down and train her in your ways. That’s all I ask.”

  “What do I get out of such a transaction? I have a body slave as it is.” Marco paused to push the crossbow back under his cloak.

  “You’ll get the best assassin you’ve ever had,” Lois said, drawing her sword that Barros had returned to her on their journey. “I’ll be worth more than anyone else in your fucking brotherhood. I lost my home and I lost my family, I have nothing to lose.”

  “People with nothing to lose act rashly and lose the only thing they have left.” Marco drew a wickedly thin long sword that was perfect for punching through mail armor. “Their life.”

  “Lois, this isn’t what I had planned,” Barros said.

  “I’ve got it, Hunter, there’s no need for you to interfere,” Lois said. She brought her sword across in front of her body in a guard position.

  “Have it your way.” Barros shrugged and returned to Azurus’ side, his hand still hovering over his blade.

  “Afraid you’re going to lose to a girl, assassin?” Lois said. “You’re hesitant to attack me. Is that fear?”

  “I merely assess the situation before making the kill,” Marco said.

  “As do I!” Lois ran forward with her sword raised.

  Marco ducked backwards, throwing his own blade up to make the parry. The two pieces of steel bashed together, bringing the two combatants face to face. Or at least face to mask. Underneath Marco’s hood was a vicious mask, decorated in red and black, the faint lines depicting a wolf’s angry mouth where Marco’s should have been.

  Lois strained against the brute force Marco applied against her, desperate in an attempt to shove the masked man away. The assassin let out a snarl, shoving Lois back, swiping low with his blade as she retreated.

  “You fight well, youngling, yet your strength betrays you. There is fight in you. Don’t think you’ll ever defeat me, however,” Marco said.

  “I beat the best there was at the Fortress, and several of them overpowered me more so than you did. Don’t be surprised if I leave here with your head,” Lois said.

  “Arrogance will be your downfall,” the masked assassin said.

  Lois raised her blade, aiming for a diagonal cut that was blocked by Marco. She spun, aiming lower this time, the sharp steel sliding past Marco’s edge. He let out a groan as the metal parted his flesh, the wound forcing him to drop to one knee. Without hesitation, Lois darted around behind him, grabbing the assassin by the head, holding her sword close to his neck.

  “My arrogance would be my downfall? You are the one on your knees
before me,” she said. “Now all I have to do is run my sword across your throat and be done with it. There won’t be a thing anyone can do to save you.”

  “I think you’ll find there is,” Marco said. With a single motion his elbow connected into Lois’ thigh driving her down. He grabbed her head and flipped her over his shoulder, planting the young warrior onto the white stones with a thud. The assassin rose slowly, his sword fresh in hand as he laughed again. “Your arrogance defeated you. Never give a man the chance to redeem himself where he faltered.”

  “Do I get to join your brotherhood or not?” Lois asked. “I marked you.”

  “So you did,” Marco said looking down at his leg. “No recruit here has done such a thing on our first bout.” He then turned to face the assassins around him. “Do we train her in our arts, or should we kill her and her Hunter?”

  There was a low mummer amongst the assassins of the Brotherhood as they stared at Lois from behind their masks. Several seconds passed before one stepped out from the circle. “Regardless of her being trained by Malvrok or not, the girl has skill and we should take her.”

  Marco closed his eyes for a moment and thought. “Very well. What was your name girl?”

  “Lois,” she said.

  “Welcome to the Blood Brotherhood,” Marco said.

  “My job here is done.” The Hunter turned his back and mounted Azurus.

  “When will I see you again, Barros?” Lois asked as the Hunter turned his back.

  “When you need to. For now, the Brotherhood is your life and your only purpose within Taagras. Also, Marco, if she dies between now and when I need her, your Brotherhood will fall at my feet and none of you will be left alive. Am I understood?” Barros asked.

  “Of course, Hunter. I will treat her as if she was my own child,” Marco said.

  “Good, have her ready for me when I return.” There was no other sound from Barros save for the clatter of Azurus’ hooves as he set off down into the valley. The assassins watched the Hunter leave their home.

  “Brothers, return to your stations and continue with the drills. Brother Blackwing, I will require your assistance for the initiation this evening,” Marco said.

  “Of course, Marco,” an assassin said. He vanished down into the cavern a moment later.

  “Lois, if you would kindly follow us, we will begin training at once.” Marco gestured to the gaping hole before them with his hand.

  The new recruit looked at her new master once, trying to gauge the kind of man that hid underneath the mask. Without question she followed the other assassins down into their lair. Expecting darkness and a blade waiting for her, Lois was greeted by warm fires and lavish rugs spread throughout the large cave. Pickaxes lay rested on the rock walls showing that the cave was clearly manmade.

  One by one the assassins began removing their hoods and masks to reveal. Lois didn’t know what to expect. They were still human, yet she thought of beasts from nightmares. They stood silent, in a vigil, dressed in their red armor looked at the returning party, staring at the new arrival. She moved out of the way as Marco pushed her forwards. The apparent leader of the Brotherhood removed his mask to reveal a man in his mid-twenties, bearing a striking resemblance to Abner with much shorter hair.

  His green eyes saw deep into her soul as he saw her in truth for the first time. Lois admired his messy short brown hair, yet the rest of the man she had just fought remained a mystery. He was strong, there was no doubt, but Lois felt there was something more to him than his ignorant demeanor on the surface.

  “I hope you like it down here,” he said. “You’ll be living here until the Hunter comes for you again, if he ever does.”

  “Barros will return, I am sure of it,” Lois said.

  Marco laughed softly. “There is nothing to be sure of in this world, little one. All you will ever know are lies and deceptions. Our masks for instant, you saw the mouth of an angry wolf on mine, did you not? That was an illusion nothing more. Our strength however, that was no illusion. You are strong, Lois and for that we need to name you.”

  “I already have a name,” Lois said.

  “Again, only an illusion,” Marco said. “When you are a part of the Blood Brotherhood, each and every deception that was in your past life dies. The only things that are real down here are your body and your sword. What should we name our newest recruit, my brethren?”

  All around him, the men and few women that Marco called his kin began to shout out names, none that held any meaning to Lois.

  “Lois Behan is the name I will use,” she said at Marco over the sound of the crowd.

  The assassin paused briefly before calling for silence. He looked down at Lois, towering over her by several inches. “I see the emblem of a red eagle on your armor there, little one, yet you are not yet an eagle, are you? You are yet but a little bird, still struggling to fly by itself. From now on you will be known as Redjay.”

  “A good name!” one assassin at the back called out.

  “Thank you, Brother Garrish, now if you will excuse me, I wish to retire with our newest member, and properly induct her into the Brotherhood. Redjay, follow me.”

  Marco led the newly named Redjay through the cave, checking over his shoulder to ensure he hadn’t lost her. After walking for several hundred meters through the main tunnel, Marco slowed, turning into a room. He waited until Lois crossed the threshold before closing the door behind her.

  “What are doing in here?” Lois folded her arms across her chest.

  “This is the first stage of your initiation,” Marco said crossing the room and opening red velvet blinds to reveal a large, soft bed.

  One piece at a time the assassin began to remove his garb, first placing his sword by the bed. Once his other weapons had been removed, Marco tugged his hood over his head, removing the cloak and tunic. Lois watched on, her eyes tracing every line on Marco’s well-muscled and tattooed back. Along his spine was an inked sword that ran from between his shoulder blades to the small of his back.

  The tattoo seemed to move with the light, transfixing Lois even more. It wasn’t until Marco turned around that she found her mouth hanging open. In nothing more than his breeches, the assassin cut more of an imposing figure as he sat on the bed, hands placed on either side of his legs as he looked expectantly at Lois.

  “To pass this initiation you have to prove to me that you are a woman, Redjay. I know underneath that armor you have the body of a woman. I can see your breasts, and I saw the way you looked at me the moment I took off my mask. Remove your armor, prove to me that you can seduce a man and make him believe that he is yours, right before you push the dagger into his skull.”

  2

  The Black Shards

  The camp was alive with activity, dozens of fires burning, lighting the tents of the two thousand men in an orange shroud. Noise came from around each of the campfires; men gathered engaging in betting games before the battle tomorrow. Around one fire, Abner Toldar looked on at two men seated at a roughly carved wooden table, cards in their hands both grinning at each other.

  “I bet you’ve got all Lords, Jack,” the filthy black bearded solider said with a huge toothless grin.

  “Not a chance, Harper,” said the blonde, much better kept Officer.

  “Reveal your cards then,” Harper said, placing his three cards on the table.

  The dozen men gathered around the table peered anxiously over Harper’s shoulder to see what he revealed. A hush of anticipation washed over them as Harper presented two Queens and a Councilor. Jack looked down at his hand, before looking up at the man opposite him.

  “All Lords hey?” Jack asked. He let out a sharp laugh. “Looks like I have two Councilors and a Queen. I’ll have your tent, Harper.”

  “That’s farkin’ bull shit, that’s what that is!” Harper said standing from the table pushing it back into the Officer.

  “Back off, Harper!” Jack said. He rose from his seat. He held a finger out in the face of the man.
r />   Abner looked back and forth between the two men, placing his hand gently on his sword, waiting for one of them to take matters too far. In a camp like this were betting was rife; it wouldn’t take long for this incident out of hand.

  “Or fucking what? You’ll rob me of my life as well? I’ll rip you in fucking half!” Harper picked up the table, spilling drink and the cards all over the dirt. Jack darted backwards, drawing a dagger he kept in a sheath on the small of his back.

  “Stand down!” Jack said. “As an Officer of the Black Shards I order you to stand down or you will be discharged!”

  “Say the fucking words before I tear your throat out!”

  “Don’t move, Harper,” Abner said. He stepped forward with his sword in his hand.

  “Ah, fresh blood, typical you take the side of the Officer,” Harper said. “That’s a pretty sword; do you even know how to use it?”

  “I’ve killed several men with it,” Abner said. “Now let me take control here. I’m going to win back your tent and whatever else Jack has taken from you.”

  “You’re a boy,” Harper said.

  “And you’re a man that just lost everything he owns save for what he is wearing. Jack, deal me in. If I win I get everything that Harper has just lost,” Abner said. “Take a seat, Harper. This won’t take long.”

  “What do I win if you should lose?” Jack asked. He watched Abner like a hawk as he sat down. “You’re new here and hold nothing of value.”