The Bowl of Souls: Book 01.5 - Hilt's Pride

  HILT’S PRIDE

  A Bowl of Souls Novella

  By

  Trevor H. Cooley

  The Bowl of Souls Series:

  Book One: EYE of the MOONRAT

  Book Two: MESSENGER of the DARK PROPHET

  Book Three: HUNT of the BANDHAM

  Book Four: The WAR of STARDEON (Upcoming 2013)

  Book Five: MOTHER of the MOONRAT (Upcoming)

  HILT’S PRIDE

  copyright © 2012 Trevor H. Cooley

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover art by: Justin R. Cooley

  Dedication

  To my mother, Nancy Cooley. Thank you for all our late night talks. Thank you for being the one who for much of my life was my only friend and shoulder to cry on. Thank you for always supporting me and building me up. Thank you for being the one who taught me how to be able to laugh at myself, how to be kind to others, and perhaps most importantly for teaching me how to treat a woman.

  Author’s Note

  The events in Hilt’s Pride take place just after Hilt leaves Justan at the Training School part way through Bowl of Souls: Book One. This is a stand alone story and can be read apart from or along with the rest of the series. This story contains no spoilers to the rest of the series, but contains a lot of information that enhances the backgrounds of several characters.

  When I first wrote about the character of Hilt so many years ago I was interested in his character and his history. At the time I intended to bring him back into the series, but he never seemed to fit into the direction the story went. Then nearly two years ago I had the idea to write a short story called Hilt’s Pride and post it on my blog. I wrote the first two pages but never got around to finishing it.

  After finishing book three of the Bowl of Souls, I knew that it would be a while until I could put out the fourth book and I wanted to put out something for my readers in the meantime. I had the idea to put together a series of short stories. Hilt’s Pride was the first one that came to mind.

  I had a vague outline in my head and figured the story would end up being around twenty to thirty pages. But as I started to write, the characters grew. I loved their interaction and humor and the tale of their journey grew in scope. I started telling people it would be sixty pages and before I knew it, I had realized it was going to be the size of a large novella.

  I am very happy with the result and eager to share these characters with you. Please come to the Bowl of Souls Facebook page or message me on Twitter and tell me what you think. I hope you love the story as much as I do. Now to get back to work on book four . . .

  Trevor H. Cooley

  Table of Contents

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  Book Four Preview

  I

  The girl with the golden hair had come to die. It was the only answer that made sense. Hilt glanced back at the woman as the gorc's head hit the ground with a splash of dark blood.

  She stood as if unafraid of the goblinoids that attacked. Her hair gleamed golden in the morning sunlight. Her eyes were fixed on him in curiosity, not in hope of rescue as he would expect.

  Hilt stepped back from the dead creature as the next gorc attacked. He knocked aside its rusty iron blade. Stupid thing. It had to know it was outmatched. He had killed five of its comrades already. Hilt swept the tip of his left sword across its face, taking out an eye. It stumbled back with a howl, clutching at the wound. Hilt glared at the others, giving his swords a menacing twirl.

  The two remaining gorcs grabbed their wounded comrade and retreated around a large nearby boulder, sending angry curses back at Hilt all the way. The fight seemed to be over, but Hilt knew that there were more gorcs nearby watching from the rocks.

  Gorcs were little more than a nuisance to a trained warrior. They were a shade smaller than humans, larger and smarter than a lowly goblin, but smaller and stupider than an orc. Gorcs were in fact born from goblins, but gorcs despised their smaller brethren and formed tribes of their own.

  Hilt didn't care where the creatures came from. They were mere rabble, unfit to stain his blade. He wouldn't have bothered if not for the girl.

  He had first seen her earlier that morning climbing the steep incline of the mountainside alone. She had looked frail and vulnerable winding her way around the enormous boulders that littered the slope. Hilt had seen signs that the area was full of monsters and followed, intending to tell her to turn back. By the time he arrived, the gorcs had surrounded her.

  Now that the immediate danger was over, Hilt turned to speak with her. But she was no longer standing there. The woman had turned back to the task of climbing the mountainside.

  "Wait! Young lady!" Hilt caught up to her in moments. "Young lady, where are you going?"

  "Young lady?"

  She turned around and Hilt saw her up close for the first time. Now that she was out of the sunlight, her hair no longer gleamed golden. It was more of a dirtied blond. Her face was attractive, but weary. Her skin was tanned and wrinkled around piercing blue eyes. Her dress was long sleeved and woolen and quite dirty. This was a woman who spent most of her time outdoors, perhaps working the fields.

  "I am surely no younger than you, swordsman." She turned back to climbing the steep slope. "Now leave me be. There are plenty more monsters for you to slay."

  Hilt stared after her, blinking in disbelief. “Madam, I . . . I was not here to slay monsters. I was on a pressing mission when I saw the beasts surround you. I only followed you up here to keep you from getting killed!”

  “Well you succeeded then. I am not dead.” she said, not looking back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have my own ‘important duty’ to perform.”

  He followed her up the slope a few moments more. “You truly aren’t going to thank me?”

  “I never asked for your help, did I?” She took a few more labored strides up the mountainside, then paused and whirled around, her lips twisted into a scowl. “Just what were you expecting in thanks?”

  “Expecting?” Hilt folded his arms across his chest. What an insolent woman. “When a man saves your life, isn’t thanks customary?”

  “Oh! So you followed me up here seeking a reward? Hmph, you sound like nobility.” She eyed his clothing with suspicion. His garb was finely made but well worn and adjusted for easy movement. He wore leather boots, calf high with woolen breeches, and a white shirt covered by a chainmail vest and a fine overcoat. Sword sheathes hung at either hip and he had a small pack slung over his shoulders. “What did you want, a maiden’s kiss of gratitude? Well I ain’t no maiden!”

  Hilt’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Madam I most definitely did not come seeking a kiss.”

  She misunderstood the look on his face and gasped, one hand raising to her mouth. “A kiss not good enough? You see me, a baseborn woman all alone and think to take advantage? I think not. I may not be a maiden, but I’m not street trash! Go look for your ‘thanks’ elsewhere. I’ll take my chances with the monsters!”

  Hilt’s face went red and he sputtered in outrage as she turned and resumed her climb. “Foul!” he cried finally.

  She snorted and resumed her climb.

  “That was a most- . . .” he strode quickly up the steep slope and passed the woman before turning to face her. “That was a most foul accusation! I climb up here out of my way to save your life and I am rewarded with scowls and disparaging remarks?”

  “There you are expecting rewards again,” she accused, taking a step backward. Her foot caught in her dress and she stumbled. She would have taken a tumble down the slope if
Hilt had not reached out and grasped her arm. She struggled and slapped his arm as he pulled her to her feet. “Unhand me!”

  Hilt made sure she had regained her footing before letting go, then raised both hands and took a step back. “I am sorry for my choice of words. I seek no reward. Truly. I just expected common courtesy is all.”

  Her blue-eyed glare softened only slightly. “Alright then, you have your thanks. Now will you step aside, so I can get where I’m going?”

  “I will not,” Hilt said, arms folded, his voice firm.

  Her fists clenched, but she forced a smile on her face. “Why thank you, kind sir. It was a privilege to be saved by a warrior such as yourself. There, is that better?”

  Even though it was forced, Hilt had to admit her smile was pretty. He shrugged. “A bit better, yes.”

  “Then move it,” she said, the smile still frozen on her face. She took a step forward, but Hilt did not move.

  “I refuse,” he said firmly.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want then?”

  “Your safety,” he replied. “No matter how mean tempered you are, I cannot in good conscience allow you to continue any farther. The way ahead would mean your certain death.”

  “And what makes you so sure?” she asked as her forced smile faded.

  “For one, the gorcs are still watching us from the boulders below. More will likely join them and the only reason they haven’t attacked us again already is the fact that I left six of them dead down there. Secondly, do you see these signs, my lady?” Hilt gestured to a small pile of stones next to her feet. They were white and irregularly shaped, but stacked evenly to form a small pyramid.

  She nodded. “Rocks. What of it?”

  “Look around you,” he said, pointing to his right. Another similar pile of stones stood several yards away and she could see another one even further away. They seemed to be spaced apart evenly. “We crossed over similar signs earlier when we entered the gorc’s territory.”

  She looked down at the piles and back up at him. “So we walked past piles of stones.”

  “You don’t understand. The first signs we passed were made of plain stones set in a circular pattern. They are used to tell goblinoids when they’re at the border of another tribe’s territory. The stones here, however, are stacked in a pyramid shape used by goblinoids to mark areas of danger. In other words, these stone represent a warning to their own tribe members to stay away.”

  “Good,” she said. “That means they won’t follow me up there. I hope you will follow their example.”

  Hilt grit his teeth in frustration. “Why are you so determined to die?”

  “I won’t die. At least I don’t think so,” she admitted, still seeming quite unconcerned. She tried to continue past him, but Hilt grabbed her shoulders with both hands, stopping her. She twisted and tore free from his grasp, nearly stumbling yet again. “Don’t you touch me!”

  “Then tell me.”

  “I will tell you nothing,” she spat.

  “I have half a mind to throw you over my shoulder and carry you down this mountain,” Hilt said, his eyebrows raised at her ferocity.

  “I would fight you the whole way!”

  “You could not stop me. I could knock you unconscious if I had to. I would make sure you did not wake until I could take you to the nearest village and drop you off at an inn.”

  “I would have no choice in that case.” Rage simmered behind her eyes, but she swallowed and gathered herself, then replied with complete calm. “However, if you did so, sir, I would only wait until you were gone and come back anyway.”

  “Be that as it may, I will do exactly as I threatened unless you tell me why you are so determined to ascend this mountain.” Hilt said, jaw fixed in determination. “Tell me, woman, and do it fast because the gorcs are gathering in number.”

  Hilt pointed down the slope behind her. She turned to see that several more gorcs had joined the others and they were no longer bothering to hide. The one with the blinded eye was pointing up at them and snarling at the others. She looked back at Hilt and glared again.

  “I can see that you are determined to continue, but do you really want to be caught and likely eaten by those creatures?” Hilt prodded. “I will make you this concession. Tell me the truth and if your answer is satisfactory, not only will I let you go on, I will go down and slay the beasts just to give you a better chance.”

  She looked at Hilt’s unmoving stance and up at the long climb ahead, then down to the gorcs below. When she looked back at him her expression was resigned. “Fine. Since you must know . . . the prophet told me to come to this mountain and climb to the summit.”

  Hilt blinked, then his eyes narrowed in intensity. “The prophet? Tell me, what did he look like?”

  “Well, he was . . . his face . . .” Her brow wrinkled in confusion and she paused for a moment to search her memories, “I-I don’t know how to describe him, just his presence. He just . . . he just felt right. Like I was safe with him and that he would never lead me wrong.”

  Hilt stared at her for a few seconds before placing his face in his hands, “Oh blast it all. How did he know I would be coming this way? Blast!”

  “Excuse me?” she said, wide eyed at his reaction.

  He put up a conciliatory hand. “Forgive my language. It’s just that he always does this. He makes people a promise and shoves them in my path.” The next time he saw the prophet he would be sure to tell him about it too. Hilt shook his head and sighed. “I suppose my mission will have to be placed on hold.”

  Hilt reached for a leather strip that hung around his neck and pulled a slender tube made of a smooth gray wood out from under his chainmail vest. He lifted it to his lips and blew. There was no audible sound, but he felt it warm against his fingers and knew his message had been received. He nodded and tucked it back under his shirt.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I am telling my companion that I need his assistance.” Hilt said. “He left Reneul before I did, but he has been taking his time. If I had not taken this detour I would have caught up to him by nightfall.”

  “But how-? Why . . .?” Her eyes widened in comprehension. “Wait. No-no. You’re not coming with me.”

  “Oh, yes I am” Hilt said. He turned and strode parallel to the piles of rock that dotted the mountainside. “Come along. It would be best to stay out of the area the gorcs marked. They wouldn’t warn their own people away without good reason.”

  “But-!” She hesitated, then hurried after him. “You didn’t listen. I said ‘You’re not coming with me.’”

  “And yet I am,” Hilt replied. He paused and looked back at her. “You know, since we are to be taking this little journey together, I really should ask your name.”

  “Beth,” she said. “But I still haven’t agreed-.”

  He gave her a deep bow. “Beth, my lady, so nice to meet you. My name is Hilt. And don’t worry, as soon as I get you to the top of this peak, I will take my leave and you will not have to see me again.” He turned and continued along the slope, glad that the first winter snows had not come yet. The slope was steep and footing was hard enough as it was.

  She followed behind him in silence for a while, which suited him just fine. The line of white stone markers eventually curved and turned up the steep slope of the mountainside and Hilt followed it, skirting the edge of the line they marked. The ground was a bit rocky and stubbled with tufts of grass for easy footing, but it was a strenuous hike nonetheless. Hilt fumed that the prophet had stuck him with such an arduous task.

  He kept looking back at the woman to make sure she was holding up. She trudged along right behind him with her skirts held up in bunched fists to keep from entangling herself. Her face was red and she was breathing quite heavily, but to her credit she wasn’t complaining. Luckily there was no sign that the gorcs had followed them.

  They hiked to the top of the incline. The ground leveled off and the path was flat for a while bef
ore the next rise, so Hilt stopped so she could rest. He sat on a large rock and watched her stumble over and plop down on another rock a few feet away. She slumped over and rested her forearms on her knees.

  Hilt eyed her curiously. “So Beth, my lady, the prophet tells you to climb a mountain, and you come wearing that?”

  She gave him an irritated glance. “It’s what I had on at the time.”

  “But where did you come from? There are no villages anywhere nearby and you aren’t wearing a pack or anything. Do you have supplies? Food? Water?”