Silver the Hunter
by
Jennifer Leigh Crandall

Marta and Deena ghosted along behind Kiya. They had been avoiding the road and sticking to the trees for two days now. Ever since she had heard of a band of manhunters with an old gray bearded captive, Kiya had been on their trail.

"There are more than a score of them there are," the old woman had said, in answer to Kiya's question. "That way they went, but they are not moving fast. The old one slows them down, he does. There is a great reward for that old man so one of them said."
"Describe the old man to me," said Kiya with a voice as cold as death. "Big he was," replied the woman. "Must be quite a fighter. They have plenty of injured."
"Does he yet live?" asked Kiya.
"He was still alive when they passed this way," answered the woman, "but it is no matter, the priests will burn him anyway." Her last words were spoken to empty space as Kiya was already on the run with Marta and Deena trying desperately to keep her in sight.
Eventually she slowed so they could catch up with her. "Who is that captive Kiya?" panted Marta as they reached the tall woman. "My father," answered Kiya and picked up the pace again. That had been three days ago. Now they were within reach of their quarry and were keeping to the trees. They would have to wait until dark before trying
a rescue as three women were no match for a score or more swordsmen. Not even with Kiya to lead them. Kiya held up her hand for silence and Deena heard a familiar sound. The sound of a lash as it strikes a human body, then a scream of pain and wild laughter. They could see the men in the clearing now. It was the captive who was laughing. Deena recognized him, but Marta had never seen such a man before. His shirt had been torn from him and he was bare to the waist. Marta had never seen so much muscle on one
single man. He was built like a mountain with shoulders wider than an ox. His arms were as thick as trees and he looked like a young man except for the gray hair and beard. Chains hung from his wrists and the was a length of chain with an iron ball on the end attached to his right leg. A man lay near him nursing the lash marks on his face. It was
easy to see what had happened. The captive had yanked one of his
captors into the path of the lash. Throwing back his head he laughed
again. "Hold him fast," barked one of the men. "Curse you hold him fast I
say." The men seized the captive's wrists again and the man with the
lash drew back his arm. As the lash snapped forward the big man moved. Marta gasped at what happened. No man could be that fast or that strong. With a wrenching twist of his body the man jerked his captors off their feet as he turned to meet the lash. A snap of his head and he caught the lash in his teeth. Heaving his big body backward he jerked the lashman toward him. A huge leg swept forward and the chain with the iron ball snapped toward the lashman. The man's head exploded as the iron ball connected. The
huge man laughed again.
"Bring the nets," roared the leader, "bring up the nets."
"Aye, bring up the nets," roared the big captive. "Bring your nets you snivelling cowards. Here I stand, bound in chains and still there is not a man among you with the courage to face me. Come and play my children. Come face the son of the One Eyed God in battle if you have the courage." He was swinging the chains attached to his wrists like a
scythe and had cleared a path around himself. The nets were quickly thrown over him and he was born to the ground. Then the wolf howled. Marta's heart froze in her chest as Kiya let out that howl. She stared wide eyed as a series of barks and whines came from Kiya's
throat. "What in the name of all that's holy was that?" asked one of the men. All had their swords out and were looking nervously about for signs of
danger. The wolf howled again then was silent. The captive laughed again as he was hauled to his feet. "That was the sound of your death knell," he laughed. "Did you not
recognise the song of the Death Angel? See tomorrow's sun with cold eyes, you will." The men faced the forest, but there was no sound. No bird sang, no squirrel chattered, no insect chirped. The forest was as silent as stone.
"Build up a fire," barked the leader, "post guards. We will camp here for the night." As he spoke a man mounted his horse. "Where the nine hells do you think you are going?" Bawled the leader. "You heard him," said the man from the back of his horse. "That was
the Death Angel's call. If Kiya is near then so is that thrice damned giant who travels with her. Inarr of the Long Arm they call him. I have seen them in battle and I will not wait here to be butchered in my sleep." He kicked his horse into a run and galloped away.
"It was a wolf howl," shouted the leader after the departing man, "nothing more." The captive laughed again. A few more men made moves toward their horses, but were stopped by the leader. "There is safety in numbers. Stay here you fools." Reluctantly they began to set up camp. The captive settled down and went to sleep.
"Is he really sleeping?" asked Marta. "He never sleeps," replied a grim faced Kiya. "Come, let's give them a chance to settle down and get careless." She slipped away from the clearing and settled down under a tree. "Is that really your father?" asked Marts. "My adopted father," said Kiya softly with a faraway look in her eyes. "That is Silver the Hunter. Rest now, we will attack just before dawn."

Deep in the night a wolf yapped once nearby. The sleeping men did not stir, but the captive was instantly awake. He did not move as he did not want to disturb any of the men by rattling his chains. Silver slowly began to gather his strength for the coming battle. Even though he had battered them up a bit, there were nearly twenty men in camp who
could still wield a sword. He hoped that Kiya had some of the folk with her. Oh well, even if she didn't, the manhunters were still in a lot of trouble. Silver grinned in anticipation.
In the gray light of the false dawn they came. There was a sound like the rustling of a breeze in the high branches, but there was no wind. Three shadows slipped through the sleeping bodies. They set themselves between Silver and the forest. Suddenly Kiya appeared at Silver's side. A flash of a dagger and the netting that held him parted. As
quietly as he could Silver rose to his feet. He was not quiet enough.
"To arms, to arms," shouted a voice almost at his side. Silver's arm snapped out and there was the crunch of chain against flesh followed by a howl of pain. Silver grabbed the fallen man and hurled him across the camp where he fell with another scream. In the darkness men stabbed at the source of the noise with their swords. There was a lot of
screaming and cursing. Throughout the camp, confusion reigned supreme. The crouching shadows stabbed with their daggers and there were more howls of pain as men fought each other as well as the enemy in their midst. As soon as they stabbed out Marta and Deena retreated into the trees. Kiya's battle cry rang out and she began to cut a path for
herself and Silver. Her flashing daggers and lashing boots soon helped clear that path. Old Silver's flailing chains claimed two more victims before they made the relative safety of the trees.
Once at the trees, Silver scooped up the iron ball so he could run faster. He fled straight into the forest while Kiya and her companions held back, picking off the few foolhardy souls who followed them into the trees. At length they broke off the battle and caught up with
Silver. He was sitting under a tree with a big grin on his face. The day was just dawning. He looked like a gray ghost to Marta. Kiya threw herself into his arms with tears in her eyes.
"Old Wolf, you will be the death of me yet," she said as she gave him
a rib cracking hug. "Easy girl," he grunted as he kissed the top of her head fondly, "they
bruised me up a bit back there. Let me get out of these chains now and we can talk. Marta sucked in her breath as she saw him twist open a link and the chains fell away from his wrists. Another twist and his legs were free of fetters. He shook off the feeling of the chains and gathered Kiya into those huge arms. "How came you to my rescue?" he
asked softly.
"We heard a tale of a score of manhunters trying to take one old man captive," she grinned at him. "When they spoke of how badly battered the manhunters were, I knew it had to be you. There were not more that thirty, how did they take you anyway? Are you getting soft?" Kiya yelped and leaped away as he pinched her bottom.
"They took me for a fool," he said in a voice as cold as death, "but they will pay for their deeds this past week. By all the thundering gods of war I swear they will pay."
"Tell us all of it," said Kiya, "leave nothing out." "I see you found your way north," said Silver nodding to Deena.
"I did and all was as you said it would be," she answered. "I did not get a chance to thank you though."
"You have thanked me well enough this night kinswoman," Silver answered in a soft voice. "And you as well," he said meeting Marta's eyes for the first time. "Silver the Hunter I am called." "I am called Marta," she answered. "Enough of the flirting," said Kiya slapping his shoulder. "Tell us how they caught you and why you seek revenge." Silver's eyes went hard again as he spoke. "I was taking my time leaving a village. I was in disguise as an old cripple." "Everybody in the nine realms knows that old cripple is Silver the Hunter," grinned Kiya. He ignored her and continued with his story. "I heard a child scream and I ran toward the sound. It was a girl screaming as though she were being tortured. She was. I rounded a bend in the road and saw five men tearing the clothes from a girl child. She could not have seen more than ten summers. I attacked them. About three paces from the men the first net fell over me. The rage took me then but with the net tangling me up, they eventually got the better of me and put me in chains. Then they slapped me awake again and forced me to watch as they raped the child again and again. They threw her broken body into the bushes and forced me to run with that ball and chain. I was dragged more than I ran. The rest you know." "We will hunt with you," said Kiya. Silver just nodded in agreement. There was no point arguing with Kiya when she had that look in her eye.
"Tonight then," he said softly and settled down to sleep. Kiya sat the first watch while the others slept. Each woman took a turn on watch as the day wore on. As darkness came Silver arose and stretched. "Are we ready then?" he asked. Silver had been right, the manhunters had not fled, but instead had tried to track their quarry. They were not really that hard to find. As the manhunters settled down for the night there was a sound like a
dry branch breaking. Suddenly a man's body was hurled from the trees into the fire scattering it everywhere. There was a commotion as the fire was put back together and the body dragged from it. It was one of the guards, his neck was broken. No sooner was everything resettled than another body was launched into the fire. It was the second
guard. He had been stabbed through the heart. The men fled from the firelight into the darkness and shelter of the trees. That was a mistake. The forest was filled with the screams of the dying and wounded. No man was a match for Silver the Hunter in the darkness.
"To me, to me," bawled the leader. Eventually he gather what was left of his troop to him. They spent the night back to back with drawn swords. The night was still as a tomb. At dawn they realized the horses were gone. They marched all day until nearly dark before they found a rock face to camp against. It would be impossible to sneak up on them here. They made camp and posted guards. Just as they were settling down for the night a wolf howled nearby. It was answered by another and another and another. They were surrounded by wolves. Then Silver's laugh rang out from the darkness.
"What was her name?" he called to the camp.
"Whose name?" shouted the leader. "What the nine hells are you raving about you savage?"
"The girl your men raped and killed," came Silver's booming reply.
"What was her name, do you know?" "Why would I care?" snarled the leader.
"Because the man who names her will live," answered Silver as he suddenly appeared at the edge of the fire light. His dagger flashed and a man fell screaming. Silver was gone into the darkness before anyone could react.
As the men faced where Silver had been one man felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to set eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her great mane of auburn hair was swept over her shoulders and he was looking into those deep blue eyes. Her dagger was at his throat. Beckoning him to follow her she backed into the darkness. He followed,
not daring to make a sound.

"Is this the one?" asked Kiya as she delivered her captive to Silver. A huge paw grabbed the man's face and turned it to the pale light of the moon. "It is him," was the soft answer. "You would not beat a man caught in a net, neither would you rape a child. Why?"
"I do not know why, I just could not," answered the youth, "it is unworthy."
"How came you to be in the company of such unworthy fellows?" asked Silver. Kiya grinned at the tone of Silver's voice.
"I thought it better than starving," replied the youth, "I was wrong." "Mia."
"What?"
"Mia, the girl's name was Mia," said the man. "Her mother screamed the
name as the child was taken away."
"Then you shall live for now," answered Silver. "When you awaken, return to the village where the child was taken. Tell the tale of her captors. They will all see this full moon with cold eyes." "When I awaken?" asked the youth in a puzzled tone. A fist crashed against his jaw and he slumped to the ground. Kiya rubbed her knuckles.

"When you awaken," she said softly. She yapped like a mother wolf and Deena and Marta appeared beside her. "Do we rest?" she asked Silver. "Rest," he said, "I will take the first watch. We will harry them again tomorrow then finish them during the night. As the three women slept, he faded into the night. A few moments later he reappeared at
his post.
"Well?" asked Kiya from where she lay. "Three," he answered. She grinned and this time she went to sleep. Silver let them sleep through the night. At dawn they attacked. Four ghosts swept through the camp, stabbing as they went and fled into the gathering light of dawn. When the confusion in the camp died down, there were only ten men left alive. Three more did not survive the day as they were hauled into the trees never to be seen by their companions again. Again the men built up a large fire and stayed well within its light.
They did not intend to sleep this night. They would not see the dawn. In the darkest part of the night, the leader threw another stick on the embers. As the flame leapt high, he saw a beautiful woman smiling at him from across the fire. Her arm snapped forward and a dagger was sticking out of his chest. He sank to the ground without a sound. Another man screamed as a thrown dagger took him in the neck. Another man fell to a thrown dagger, then there was a wild scream of battle rage.
With that scream, Silver the Hunter charged the camp. He was swinging a length of chain about him and men fell away from him in terror. It was no use as Kiya was there to reap those who escaped the big hunter. The sounds of battle rang through the night for a time then all was silent. Silver the Hunter stood amid the carnage like an icon to the
god of war. He was spattered with gore and blood from head to foot. Kiya was the same.
"We'll build up the fire," said Marta.
"There was no need to harm the child," said Silver. "They had taken me prisoner. This lot are unworthy of the fire. Leave them for the ravens." He turned and walked away. The others joined him. "Where will you go now?" asked Kiya.
"There was one who escaped on horseback," Silver answered. "He was the
first to harm the child. He will not escape me."
"Want company?" she asked.
"I would love to hunt with you again my love, but you have a family and
Inarr will be frantic by now. You go home and I will finish up this affair and join you there."
"Promise?" she said softly.
"Word of honour," he smiled.
"Take care Old Wolf," she said as she hugged him good-bye.
"Always," he called back as he loped down the trail, limping slightly on his left leg. Kiya and her companion turned toward home.

Jennifer Leigh Crandall's Bio:

Jennifer Leigh Crandall is a practicing Reiki Master who lives, works,
and plays in St. John's Newfoundland. Jennifer has penned several
fantasy novels and is now seeking a literary agent for these works. She
also loves to get e-mail at jlcrandall@hotmail.com.