The Bowl of Souls: Book 01.5 - Hilt's Pride Page 6
Yntri nodded and clicked at Hilt in agreement.
“Look, you two,” Hilt said. “I was not going to my doom. I was just checking things out. I wanted to see it.”
“And how did that go?”
“It was . . . large,” Hilt said.
“Could you have killed it?” she asked, hands on hips.
“Well . . . likely not, but we will never know, will we? You took that opportunity away!”
“It was for your own good!” Beth said. “Why on earth were you so determined to face that thing?”
Hilt clenched his jaw. “It was a matter of-.”
“Pride?” she scoffed. “More like a matter of stupidity.”
“Yes, pride!” Hilt shouted. He raised his right fist and shook his rune at her. “I was named nearly twenty years ago! Twenty years since I received the highest honor a warrior can get. It took immense focus and drive to reach those heights, but what then? Where does a driven man go once he’s reached the top? Tell me! Where?”
Her jaw hung open in surprise at the intensity of his reaction and she stammered as she tried to find an answer. Yntri clicked a few times and placed a calming hand on Hilt’s arm, but the warrior shook him off.
“I’ll tell you where,” he said. “Once you have reached the peak, there is no direction to go but down.”
Beth swallowed. “N-now if you’re at the top there’s no reason you have to go anywhere . . . is there?”
Hilt laughed, but there was no humor in his voice. “Yes, I suppose I could stand still, poised on my peak, trying to maintain myself. That’s what people expect a named warrior to do. And don’t get me wrong, for many years I have been content to do so, but lately more and more I get that itch, that need to achieve something again. The monsters of legend are one of the few challenges still out there, one of the few ways I can still improve.
“I already slew one of them.” He jerked a thumb at Yntri. “It was the day Yntri and I met. A nightbeast had been haunting one of the villages in Malaroo down by the Jharro grove.”
Yntri’s brow furrowed. He clicked at Hilt with a scolding tone, jabbing a finger in his direction.
“Yes, I know.” Hilt shook his head with a snort. “He tried to warn me off back then too. Yntri likes to tell me my pride is going to kill me some day. I disagree. I think it’s what keeps me alive. I was unhappy for a long time before that battle. But when I killed that nightbeast things changed. The Roo-tan welcomed me in. Their leader took my council and started opening up their borders to Dremaldria. That fight changed their country and my life for the better.”
His explanation didn’t get the response he had hoped for. Beth’s look of surprise had turned into a scowl. “So that’s what this pride of yours is? A need for fame and glory? You reach the top and that’s not good enough for you? You need to keep waving and shouting, ‘Look at me! I’m Sir Hilt and I killed stuff, so I’m still the greatest!’”
“Stuff?” Now it was Hilt’s turn to stammer. “Y-you think this is about fame? You think that if I had killed that behemoth, word of my victory would spread? You think bards would travel around singing about it? How? No one knows it’s here!”
“Oh, and you wouldn’t tell anyone about it? Sure.” Beth rolled her eyes. “Who needs a bard when you can sing your own praises?”
“Had you ever heard of me before today, Beth?” When she didn’t answer right away, Hilt nodded in satisfaction. “You don’t know a fraction of the things I’ve done. No one does. I don’t seek out the praise of others. Praise comes on its own sometimes when you do good works, but that’s not why I do what I do. This is my pride. It’s about me.”
“All about you?” Beth’s scowl hadn’t faded. “So you’re admitting that you’re selfish. You go around pretending to want to help, but when it comes down to it, you’ll put your stupid pride above everyone else.”
Hilts face went red with indignation, but Beth didn’t back down. Yntri clicked and whistled soothingly and took a step between them in an attempt to calm things down, but they just ignored the elf, glaring around him.
Hilt’s fists shook. “It’s . . . You . . . You’re just determined to antagonize me, aren’t you?”
Beth threw up her hands. “What’s going to happen next time, hmm? If we get near the top of this mountain and we need your help, but the world’s largest squirrel runs by, are you going to leave us and run off chasing it? Huh, mister selfish?”
They leaned in close, eyes locked, matching each other glare for glare for several seconds, Yntri stuck uncomfortably between them. Then Hilt’s lips twitched. Beth’s glare faltered. Both of them burst into laughter.
Yntri watched their mirth, confusion etched on his wrinkled face. He scratched his head and clicked a wary question.
“Yes! Yes, Yntri, I suppose we are crazy. ” Hilt laughed some more. He shook his head at Beth. “World’s largest squirrel? Really?”
“It’s what popped into my mind at the time,” Beth said, holding her bruised sides and wincing. “I know it doesn’t sound very dangerous, but the picture I had of it in my mind had really sharp teeth.”
As the laughter died down, Hilt shook his head. “Beth and Yntri . . . you were both right. I have two missions ahead of me and I put both of them in jeopardy by chasing after the behemoth. That was indeed . . . selfish of me and inexcusable behavior. I am very sorry.”
Beth looked quite surprised that he had admitted it. “I forgive you. And I-I apologize for antagonizing you . . . and for almost blowing all of us up.”
Hilt gave her a sincere bow. “I am most grateful for your forgiveness and I accept your sincere apology. What about you, Yntri? Do you forgive us?”
The elf shrugged and clicked a few times, then turned and hiked on, talking back to Hilt over his shoulder.
“Yntri says it is getting late.” The sun had indeed nearly reached the horizon. Clouds at the edges of the skyline had begun to turn a pink hue. “We should find a good place to stop for the night. Can you climb a bit further?”
Beth nodded, though she looked exhausted. Hilt didn’t blame her for being tired. It was hard to believe that their climb had just begun that morning. They had been through a lot in that short period of time.
They followed Yntri up the slope in silence for a while. Hilt kept an eye on the woman, making sure she was holding up alright. Beth’s movements were a bit labored as she trudged on. He wondered if her fall had done more than just bruised her. Despite obvious discomfort, Beth didn’t complain.
When she did speak again, her look was introspective. “Hilt . . . when you were in the cave . . .”
“Yes?” he said.
Her head was down and her voice hesitant as she added, “The beast. What did it look like?”
Hilt noted the fear in her posture and replied, “A nightmare. You don’t want to know.”
She nodded, then asked a few seconds later, “Do you think that the fire killed it?”
Yntri, who was just a few yards ahead of them laughed and clicked back at her.
“He says that if fire killed it the behemoth wouldn’t be a legend,” Hilt translated. “He’s right. Troll behemoths heal too quickly even for fire. Perhaps if one was starved and then you set it on fire . . .”
She eyed him with suspicion. “You are thinking about strategies in case you decide to come back and face it later, aren’t you?”
Hilt chuckled. “Already you know me so well. But don’t worry. I will see you to the top of this mountain. Then I have another mission to finish before I can even think of coming back.”
That didn’t seem to make her feel better. She folded her arms. “I really had hoped I’d killed it.”
“If it is any consolation, that inferno doubtless caused the deaths of hundreds of trolls that were growing from its side. They hung from its back like bunches of grapes.” She grimaced and he added, “Come to think of it, you probably killed the population of rodents that it was feeding off in there. It’s too large to leave that cave a
nd without a food source, it may starve to death. So oddly enough, your fire may kill the beast after all. Imagine that! Beth, killer of legends!”
A slight smile reached her lips at that thought and she straightened up a bit, but Yntri shook his head and clicked again.
“Oh,” Hilt said as the elf continued on.
“What was it?” she asked.
“Evidently the rodents weren’t its only food source. Yntri says that there is another entrance to the cave on further down the mountain.” Yntri clicked some more. “Ah, more like a shaft, really. There is a tribe of orcs living there that worship the thing. Evidently they’ve been sacrificing to it. Yntri saw them throw a deer down the shaft on the way up here. It wasn’t until he reached the cave mouth that he realized what they were feeding.”
Beth slumped again. “Well good for you then, Sir Hilt. There is still a chance for you to exercise your pride in the future.”
Hilt forced himself not to respond. He had argued enough with the woman for one day. He didn’t understand why she was so quick to anger, but he couldn’t help but respect her fortitude. It suddenly struck him how brave of her it had been to climb to the top of the ridge and stand before the behemoth’s cave to call him out. She had been so shaken by her fear of trolls and yet had stood there with fire stick in hand, determined to save his life.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you Beth for coming after me. I know it wasn’t an easy thing to do.”
Her eye brows rose in surprise and she gave him a tired smile. “How was I going to reach the top without you?”
Yntri called out to them and pointed.
“What is it?” Hilt looked over at him and nodded. “Well it seems he’s found us a place to camp for the evening.”
The elf had found a stand of trees that were butted up against a jutting rock shelf. The location provided a shelter from wind and a place where they could build a small cookfire that wouldn’t be easily seen. In addition, there were no signs of trolls or other monsters nearby that could provide a threat.
To Hilt’s surprise, someone had used this spot to camp before and not long ago. There was a small ring of blackened soil under the overhanging rock where someone had built a fire and the area had been swept mostly clear of pine needles. Gorcs and orcs tended to leave their camping spots in disarray, so it was likely the previous occupant had been a human.
It wasn’t a heavily wooded area, but he and Beth were able to go around to several nearby tree clusters and break off dead limbs and sticks, gathering dry wood for the cookfire. Hilt was getting hungry enough that even the thought of eating viper sounded good.
“So Hilt,” Beth said, her arms full of sticks and branches. “You haven’t told me why you and Yntri were out here in Renuel. Malaroo is quite a journey from here.”
“Oh, well Xedrion Bin Leeths, the current leader of the Roo-tan, wanted someone to talk his daughter into coming home. It was time for Yntri’s yearly pilgrimage and it had been years since I had seen the academy, so we agreed to go.” Hilt explained. “As you can see, we are returning empty handed.”
“Really? A Roo-tan princess refused to come home and you just let her?”
Hilt laughed. “If you had met her you wouldn’t be surprised. Her name is Jhonate and she’s even more stubborn than you, if you can believe a woman like that exists. But she’s not a princess in the way you would think. She’s not an heir to the Roo-tan or anything. However, she is one of her father’s favorites and she wasn’t supposed to have left the country.”
Beth shook her head. “What was she doing in Reneul then?”
“Ah, well it is partially my fault to tell the truth. Her father had just opened up trade with Dremaldria and I was regaling the children with stories of the Battle Academy. I bragged that it was the greatest warrior school in the known lands and I told Xedrion that his people could benefit by having a relationship with the academy. He agreed that it would be a good idea and the next day Jhonate disappeared. He received a note from her a week later saying that she was traveling to the academy as his representative.”
“He must have been furious,” Beth said in amusement.
“Extremely,” Hilt said. “He sent two trackers after her but they failed to bring her back. It was quite an embarrassing situation for him and his opponents in the kingdom got a good laugh out of it. Several months later, he received a letter from the academy thanking him for sending his envoy and saying that they had accepted her for entrance into the school and included a glowing review from Faldon the Fierce himself, praising her prowess.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Really? She got in that quickly?”
“Evidently she came to the gates of the school, gave them my name as reference, and presented herself as an official envoy of the Roo-tan sent to study at the academy. Usually applicants of the academy have to take training school for a year, but due to her diplomatic status and battle prowess they let her in right away. Xedrion was angry, but he couldn’t help but be proud of her accomplishment and his hands were tied since the academy had been so gracious. So he put up with it. But after a year went by, he changed his mind. He figured that he had left her there long enough to show the academy respect, so he sent us to retrieve her.”
They returned to the campsite with all the wood they could carry. Yntri wasn’t there and Hilt figured the elf had gone hunting. The sun had disappeared beyond the horizon and light was quickly fading so he got a fire started with his fire stick. They huddled around the small fire and enjoyed the warmth as they waited for Yntri’s return.
“So what happened when you got to Reneul?” Beth asked. “I mean, obviously the girl refused to return home, but why?”
“Jhonate was always an impetuous child much like Xedrion himself had been. It was one of the reasons he doted on her. But in Malaroo, no matter how much she excelled, she was always seen by the people as the least of her siblings and she found that unacceptable. At the academy, however, your order of birth doesn’t matter. Every student there is given all the respect they earn and that fits perfect with her sensibilities. She was happy there and Xedrion knew it. So when we left, he sent us with some heavy . . . incentives.”
“What was going to convince her?” Beth leaned in close to him as they talked and Hilt could tell she was getting cold. He took off his overcoat and slid it across her shoulders.
“Xedrion understood her reasons for leaving and had come up with a way to raise her esteem among her peers. I told you about Yntri’s bow earlier, how it is made of living Jharro wood. Well Jhonate already had one Jharro weapon, all the good warriors among her people have one. However Xedrion asked Yntri to make her another one. That is a rare honor among their people. Only Xedrion’s own elite force has two Jharro weapons and only her eldest brother was good enough to be counted among those elite.
“So Yntri made her a Jharro bow and her father included a golden dragon hair bowstring, a priceless prize in and of itself. If Jhonate returned to her people with two Jharro weapons, the golden bowstring, and the training of the Battle Academy she would have all the respect she could ever want. Yntri was going to present the weapon to her himself and I came along to smooth things over with the academy and make sure that there were no hard feelings left behind. I was authorized to set up a warrior exchange program where the top students from the school would be allowed to come and train with the Roo-tan for a while, Xedrion had even agreed to open his kingdom to academy contracts.”
“And she refused all that?” Beth asked in amazement, clutching his coat close around her.
“Well, things didn’t go as planned. You see, she had been doing so well that Faldon the Fierce had offered her a one year contract, paying her to train his son, who was struggling to pass the tests necessary to enter the academy. She was all but ready to return with us, however the Roo-tan take contracts very seriously. Her year was almost up when we arrived and we decided to wait for her to complete it.
“But then she took Yntri to check out
her student, who was struggling with the bow. He’s the other person Yntri met this year with talent like yours. The boy was just too stubborn to listen to his archery instructor. This is when things went wrong. The bow that Yntri had brought intending to give it to Jhonate, bonded to her student instead. And when a Jharro weapon bonds to someone it is permanent.”
“Oh my,” Beth said.
“It wasn’t supposed to be possible,” Hilt said as he fed a few more sticks to the fire. “There is usually a whole ceremony involved. Before a warrior is given a weapon, he spends a night sleeping in the boughs of the host tree before it gives up the wood. Jhonate had already done so as a child, but her student had never seen a Jharro tree.
“Yhtri thinks it was because he spent so much time in contact with Jhonate’s weapon. Since both came from the same tree, it recognized him. Regardless, we could no longer use it as an incentive to bring her home. Yntri gave Jhonate permission to give it to her student and she gave it to him on his birthday, golden string and all.