Arran faced the tall recruit calmly, waiting for his opponent to make the first move. Although the odds were in his favor, it would not do to be reckless — he still knew far too little about the Hunters to move without thinking.
Moreover, even if his opponent was just a recruit, this was a chance to finally see a Hunter in action. And that was an opportunity he could not waste.
The young man, however, seemed to mistake Arran's caution for fear, and a confident grin appeared on his face.
"I bet you wish you hadn't interrupted me," he said, readying his sword. "But it's too late to back down now."
Without any further words, the young man attacked, launching a flurry of sword strikes at Arran. There was no restraint in the attack — in an instant, his full skill was on display, and he used every shred of strength he had with each furious strike.
Arran accepted the attacks, parrying them without countering. And as the tall recruit continued to rain down blows on him, he retreated several paces, giving his opponent the chance to show the full extent of his skill.
Yet after just a few moments, a frown appeared on Arran's face.
The youth was weak and slow, and his technique was riddled with flaws. While a hint of a more profound foundation could be seen in his swordplay, there was too little of it to be useful for Arran.
The recruit, however, appeared to think he was winning the fight. Seeing Arran retreat, his smile grew broader, as if he was certain the battle was all but won.
"A good effort," he said, "for an outsider. But I think it's time we finish this."
Arran couldn't agree more.
The youth barely had the skill to match a middling novice in the House of Swords. Fighting an opponent like this was a waste of time. It would teach him absolutely nothing about the Hunters.
With a casual blow of his sword, he slapped the recruit's blade aside, the young man's parry no match for Arran's strength. And even as the recruit's eyes went wide with shock, Arran's fist slammed into the side of his head.
The young man collapsed instantly, his limp body dropping to the ground like a sack of grain. The blow shouldn't be enough to kill him — or so Arran hoped — but he definitely wouldn't be getting up again any time soon.
His opponent defeated, Arran turned his eyes to the other recruit. The arrogant young man had been useless, but perhaps there would be something he could learn from the other one.
He raised an eyebrow as he got a better look at the slender recruit, because as he now saw, this was no man. Rather, it was a young woman, barely out of girlhood. And although she had a shaved head and a figure without any curves to speak of, her tanned face was unmistakably female.
Yet while Arran gazed at her with mild surprise, the look she gave in return was one of utter shock.
"You're not a recruit!" she said, her dark eyes wide with astonishment.
"I am not," he replied calmly. There was no point in pretending — he knew too little about the Hunters to pass for one. "What's your name?"
"Negin," she said, still too shocked to consider whether she should be answering questions. Yet as she looked at Arran, her shocked expression slowly turned to one of suspicion. "Are you a mage?"
"Do I look like a mage?" Arran smiled wryly, then shook his head. "I'm just looking for some treasure. After that, I intend to join the Hunters."
It was a gamble, but he thought it was the best chance he had. He couldn't pass for a Hunter, and he had no confidence that threats or torture would get him the answers he needed.
But with a fresh recruit, deception might just work. And if it didn't, he could always try a different approach.
"You… you want to join the Imperium?" She looked at him with a puzzled expression that still contained more than a little suspicion. "You don't work for the mages?"
"If I did, do you think you'd still be alive?" Arran asked calmly. "But what's this Imperium you speak of?"
"Hunters… that's what outsiders call us," she replied. "We are soldiers of the Darian Imperium." Despite the situation, she spoke the last words with pride in her voice.
Arran glanced at the tall recruit, whose limp body still lay strewn across the rocky ground. "Didn't he call you an outsider?"
"He's scum," she said sharply. "My parents were borderlanders, but I'm every bit as Darian as he is. No matter what they say." As she spoke, a frown came over her face — as if she realized she'd already said too much. "Why do you want to join the Imperium?"
"I killed a few mages," Arran said. He shrugged, then continued, "More than a few, truth be told. If I join the Hunters — the Imperium — I figure they'll have a hard time finding me."
The girl gave him a curious look. Although it was clear that she was still suspicious, there was something else as well — interest, Arran thought.
"You said you're here to find treasure," she said in a thoughtful tone. "You're looking for a weapon?"
"I am," Arran lied. It was an obvious explanation — on a battlefield where thousands had fallen, there would be no shortage of lost weapons.
"Then I'll help you," the girl said. "But only if you help me find one, too."
Arran frowned. He hadn't expected it to be this easy. But then, from the girl's expression, he thought there was more to it than a simple desire to have a decent weapon.
"Having a good weapon won't make you any better at using it," he said, hoping to provoke her into revealing more.
She gave him a wry smile. "It will," she replied. "You'll understand once you join the Imperium — if you decide to join the army. It's not easy to get the means to grow strong. But if I return with a starmetal blade…" She didn't finish the sentence, but a hopeful light remained in her eyes.
"But why would I need your help?" Arran asked. "I've seen you fight…"
He left the rest unspoken. There was no need to offend the girl too much — just enough to get her to talk.
Of course, in truth, he had no intention of rejecting her offer. In just a few minutes, she'd already revealed things about the Hunters he hadn't known before, and he was certain that he'd learn a great deal more if he spent some days with her.
"There are others here," she replied. "Not just recruits, but Rangers as well. And if they find an outsider in this place…" She shook her head. "They'll kill you in an instant. But with my help, you can pass for a recruit."
A small smile formed on Arran's lips, and he gave the girl a nod. "We have a deal, then."
Naturally, he didn't trust her in the slightest. But what he did trust was the desire on her face at the mention of a starmetal weapon. It was clear that she was desperate to gain such a treasure, and it was equally clear was that she had no confidence in finding one herself.
Arran cast a look at the unconscious recruit. "What about him?"
The girl hesitated, but only for a moment. "If you dig a hole, I'll take his belongings. His clothes should fit you, more or less." She looked at the youth, then frowned uneasily. "I've never killed anyone before. Could you…"
It was not the answer Arran had expected, but he did not object. This was no time to be sentimental. Breaking the young man's neck was a simple matter, and digging a hole only took him a few minutes.
A quarter-hour later, Arran was dressed in the tall recruit's thick linen clothes. They didn't fit him particularly well — the arms and legs were too long, and the chest too narrow — but for the time being, they would do.
"What if someone finds out he's missing?" he asked. He didn't worry about anyone finding the young man — the grave was shallow, but he'd surreptitiously put several wards on it that would make it almost impossible to find.
"They'll assume he died," the girl replied, her expression only slightly uneasy. "It's not uncommon for recruits to die during training — many go too far into the battleground and never return, while others take the opportunity to rid themselves of enemies."
Arran nodded in response. "Anything else we need to take care of?"
"Several things," the girl said. "But we should travel farther, first. There will be too many people this far from the battleground. Follow me, I know where to go."
Arran faced the tall recruit calmly, waiting for his opponent to make the first move. Although the odds were in his favor, it would not do to be reckless — he still knew far too little about the Hunters to move without thinking.
Moreover, even if his opponent was just a recruit, this was a chance to finally see a Hunter in action. And that was an opportunity he could not waste.
The young man, however, seemed to mistake Arran's caution for fear, and a confident grin appeared on his face.
"I bet you wish you hadn't interrupted me," he said, readying his sword. "But it's too late to back down now."
Without any further words, the young man attacked, launching a flurry of sword strikes at Arran. There was no restraint in the attack — in an instant, his full skill was on display, and he used every shred of strength he had with each furious strike.
Arran accepted the attacks, parrying them without countering. And as the tall recruit continued to rain down blows on him, he retreated several paces, giving his opponent the chance to show the full extent of his skill.
Yet after just a few moments, a frown appeared on Arran's face.
The youth was weak and slow, and his technique was riddled with flaws. While a hint of a more profound foundation could be seen in his swordplay, there was too little of it to be useful for Arran.
The recruit, however, appeared to think he was winning the fight. Seeing Arran retreat, his smile grew broader, as if he was certain the battle was all but won.
"A good effort," he said, "for an outsider. But I think it's time we finish this."
Arran couldn't agree more.
The youth barely had the skill to match a middling novice in the House of Swords. Fighting an opponent like this was a waste of time. It would teach him absolutely nothing about the Hunters.
With a casual blow of his sword, he slapped the recruit's blade aside, the young man's parry no match for Arran's strength. And even as the recruit's eyes went wide with shock, Arran's fist slammed into the side of his head.
The young man collapsed instantly, his limp body dropping to the ground like a sack of grain. The blow shouldn't be enough to kill him — or so Arran hoped — but he definitely wouldn't be getting up again any time soon.
His opponent defeated, Arran turned his eyes to the other recruit. The arrogant young man had been useless, but perhaps there would be something he could learn from the other one.
He raised an eyebrow as he got a better look at the slender recruit, because as he now saw, this was no man. Rather, it was a young woman, barely out of girlhood. And although she had a shaved head and a figure without any curves to speak of, her tanned face was unmistakably female.
Yet while Arran gazed at her with mild surprise, the look she gave in return was one of utter shock.
"You're not a recruit!" she said, her dark eyes wide with astonishment.
"I am not," he replied calmly. There was no point in pretending — he knew too little about the Hunters to pass for one. "What's your name?"
"Negin," she said, still too shocked to consider whether she should be answering questions. Yet as she looked at Arran, her shocked expression slowly turned to one of suspicion. "Are you a mage?"
"Do I look like a mage?" Arran smiled wryly, then shook his head. "I'm just looking for some treasure. After that, I intend to join the Hunters."
It was a gamble, but he thought it was the best chance he had. He couldn't pass for a Hunter, and he had no confidence that threats or torture would get him the answers he needed.
But with a fresh recruit, deception might just work. And if it didn't, he could always try a different approach.
"You… you want to join the Imperium?" She looked at him with a puzzled expression that still contained more than a little suspicion. "You don't work for the mages?"
"If I did, do you think you'd still be alive?" Arran asked calmly. "But what's this Imperium you speak of?"
"Hunters… that's what outsiders call us," she replied. "We are soldiers of the Darian Imperium." Despite the situation, she spoke the last words with pride in her voice.
Arran glanced at the tall recruit, whose limp body still lay strewn across the rocky ground. "Didn't he call you an outsider?"
"He's scum," she said sharply. "My parents were borderlanders, but I'm every bit as Darian as he is. No matter what they say." As she spoke, a frown came over her face — as if she realized she'd already said too much. "Why do you want to join the Imperium?"
"I killed a few mages," Arran said. He shrugged, then continued, "More than a few, truth be told. If I join the Hunters — the Imperium — I figure they'll have a hard time finding me."
The girl gave him a curious look. Although it was clear that she was still suspicious, there was something else as well — interest, Arran thought.
"You said you're here to find treasure," she said in a thoughtful tone. "You're looking for a weapon?"
"I am," Arran lied. It was an obvious explanation — on a battlefield where thousands had fallen, there would be no shortage of lost weapons.
"Then I'll help you," the girl said. "But only if you help me find one, too."
Arran frowned. He hadn't expected it to be this easy. But then, from the girl's expression, he thought there was more to it than a simple desire to have a decent weapon.
"Having a good weapon won't make you any better at using it," he said, hoping to provoke her into revealing more.
She gave him a wry smile. "It will," she replied. "You'll understand once you join the Imperium — if you decide to join the army. It's not easy to get the means to grow strong. But if I return with a starmetal blade…" She didn't finish the sentence, but a hopeful light remained in her eyes.
"But why would I need your help?" Arran asked. "I've seen you fight…"
He left the rest unspoken. There was no need to offend the girl too much — just enough to get her to talk.
Of course, in truth, he had no intention of rejecting her offer. In just a few minutes, she'd already revealed things about the Hunters he hadn't known before, and he was certain that he'd learn a great deal more if he spent some days with her.
"There are others here," she replied. "Not just recruits, but Rangers as well. And if they find an outsider in this place…" She shook her head. "They'll kill you in an instant. But with my help, you can pass for a recruit."
A small smile formed on Arran's lips, and he gave the girl a nod. "We have a deal, then."
Naturally, he didn't trust her in the slightest. But what he did trust was the desire on her face at the mention of a starmetal weapon. It was clear that she was desperate to gain such a treasure, and it was equally clear was that she had no confidence in finding one herself.
Arran cast a look at the unconscious recruit. "What about him?"
The girl hesitated, but only for a moment. "If you dig a hole, I'll take his belongings. His clothes should fit you, more or less." She looked at the youth, then frowned uneasily. "I've never killed anyone before. Could you…"
It was not the answer Arran had expected, but he did not object. This was no time to be sentimental. Breaking the young man's neck was a simple matter, and digging a hole only took him a few minutes.
A quarter-hour later, Arran was dressed in the tall recruit's thick linen clothes. They didn't fit him particularly well — the arms and legs were too long, and the chest too narrow — but for the time being, they would do.
"What if someone finds out he's missing?" he asked. He didn't worry about anyone finding the young man — the grave was shallow, but he'd surreptitiously put several wards on it that would make it almost impossible to find.
"They'll assume he died," the girl replied, her expression only slightly uneasy. "It's not uncommon for recruits to die during training — many go too far into the battleground and never return, while others take the opportunity to rid themselves of enemies."
Arran nodded in response. "Anything else we need to take care of?"
"Several things," the girl said. "But we should travel farther, first. There will be too many people this far from the battleground. Follow me, I know where to go."
