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by Joe
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1936995
An unlikely conscience of a man who thought he had it all.
The Huntsman


        Word count= 1960


        “Greeting friends”, the scarlet robed stranger said as he stepped closer to the warmth of the fire.

        The half dozen men and women huddled around the small fire turned, all in surprise; two of them jumping to their feet, swords pulled free of scabbards.

        “You’ve no need to fear me. I’m an adventurer not unlike you.”

        The two mercenary’s relaxed at his words. The newcomer pulled back his cowl to revealing a ruggedly handsome face. As the robed man sat down by the fire, the other two men also sat, but did not sheath their weapons. The newcomer smiled as if at some private joke.

        “Tell us, traveler, what do you seek?” asked the leader of this nomadic group.

        “It is not what I seek, but who has sent me, for I am a huntsman.”

        “A huntsman driven by another; how rare indeed,” one said.

        “Please sir won’t you tell us …” he trailed off as the stranger looked at him, again with that slight smile of his, but only the two mercenaries found that it did not put them at ease.

        “You wish to hear my tale, don’t you? It seems one of the ancients has cursed me to repeating it every night, so be it. I will begin with my former name. I am Shadows-pawn.”

        Everyone shuffled about and the two mercenaries raised their weapons. They had all heard of Shadows-pawn. The mere sound of his name struck fear in the stoutest of men. His reputation as a skilled and merciless warrior was admired and feared, his cunning legendary.

        The leader swallowed hard, “That explains how you managed to get past our guards. When did you turn your path?”

        The huntsman fingered a simple disk shaped metal pendant hung about his neck, “I was educated by one wiser than myself. This was my lesson.”

        Shadows-pawn walked to the gates of the noble district, and the guards greeted him at the entrance. Reaching into a pocket he presented the token that allowed him passage and to carry weapons. He had paid quite a bit of money and called in several favors for that token. The guards, recognizing him from past encounters, let him pass without a word. Only one other time did he come this way in the light of day. It was on business with the Imperial Mages just like today. No sane man stood in the way of his or her wishes. Here where actual assassinations were almost as common as political ones, his services were called upon often. He had never failed to fill a contract. Shadows-pawn walked to the towers of Char and Tannor. Everyone in town knew the two wizards were the real power of the kingdom, controlling the hierarchy as if mere puppets. They were said to be the two most powerful arch-mages in the land and together they were unstoppable. Shadows-pawn came to a halt in the center of the magical circle inscribe on the paving stones between the towers. He found himself in an instant inside a luxuriously decorated room.

        “Welcome Shadows-pawn, do join Me.” a sweet voice said from behind an elaborate curtain. She wore only a thin veil of silken material across her body. She was breathtaking, but Shadows-pawn kept his eyes on her face. Char had killed men for less serious offenses.

        “You summoned me.”

        “Tannor will join us in a moment. Can I offer you anything; Ale, brandy, Elven wine perhaps?”

        “Water would be fine, thank you.”

        A decanter appeared on the table next to him along with a chilled crystal goblet.

        “Don’t you ever allow yourself to enjoy life?”

        “I have seen too many men and women die because they allow themselves to enjoy. I have taken advantage of that character flaw often enough.”

        “Do you still like to watch your victims die? Some find that disturbing you know.”

        “In my line of work it is better to trust one’s own eyes than those of another.”

        “Do you like what your eyes see now."

        “As much as I appreciate the offer Lady Char I must decline."

        “Of course. It is all business."

        A figure materialized next to her.

        “Ah, Tannor joins us.” He then leand over and kissed her. As they greeted one another Shadows-pawn poured water into his goblet.

        “We have a problem,” said Tannor after a moment.

        Shadows-pawn preferred speaking with Tannor rather than Char. There was less distractions and Tannor got to the point faster than Char.

        “We have a rival,” he said.

        Shadows-pawn stifled a chuckle at the statement, these two, once advasaries, had only known defeat at the hands of each other. They realized the futility of the battles and overcame their differences to join forces. Together they had routed armies, slain dragons, and sunk islands. Shadows-pawn couldn’t believe that anyone would dare oppose them.

        “Who might this rival be?”

        “We don’t know. This is why we are contracting you.”

        “You want me to be a spy?”

        “Don’t be a fool Shadows-pawn, we tried our magic before we contacted you, but even our most powerful spells failed. We cannot see him or look inside his home.”

        “So what would you like me to do?”

        “Find out everything you can about him then remove him.”

        “If this mage possesses the ability to resist your combined magic, this will not be easy.”

        “Of course not,” Char said with a purr in her voice gently pushing back her golden hair, “That’s why we hired the best.”

        Always nice to be called the best by someone. Shadows-pawn thought. “My fee won’t be small.”

        “Think of your fee than multiply it by ten,” Tannor said. "Do whatever needs to be done."

        “We shall speak again when it is finished.” Char said as they disappeared.

        Shadows-pawn felt the warm glow of the day and walked away from the towers smiling. While it was good to be working he just might retire after this job. Wasting no time he moved towards the address they gave him. He was surprised it was in the poor section of town. He made his way through the crowded marketplace noticing a significant number of people congregating on one corner. There he saw a seated figure; wearing tattered gloves and dressed in a torn-up dirty brown robe that partially covered the face. Shadows-pawn was about to dismiss this as just another fortune teller when this man pointed at him, beckoning him closer all the while digging in a leather satchel. The mysterious figure took a necklace from around his own neck and shoved it to Shadows-pawn. Ashamed of pandering to such superstition Shadows-pawn turned, with the necklace still in his gloved hand, and hurried away. Ten minutes later he arrived at the location. The place was outside the city walls and was no more than a shack. He couldn’t believe that such a poorly built hovel would house a mage of such magnitude to worry Char and Tannor. Still, this is where they told him to go. Shadows-pawn looked around for a good vantage point and settled in; a spot just opposite the shack would do. It was well concealed and had ample cover. The day dragged on and there was little activity in the street. With nothing else to occupy him shadows-pawn dreamed about how he would spend the coin and wondered where he might retire. Then shadows-pawn jerked in surprise. The robed fortune teller from the market stood in the middle of the street facing him. He was out of sight, but as he looked the Vagabond mage beckoned me to follow. Shadows-pawn got to his feet and crossed the street to the opened door. If he got out of this alive he would at least have reconnaissance for another opportunity.

        “Welcome” a man said. it was coming from the kitchen and he rounded the corner carrying a tray with a jug and two bowls. He was an elf but not. He had certain features, yet others were missing.

        “Who are you?” asked Shadows-pawn.

        “Care for a drink? I have travelled far to meet you. I was expecting you after our meeting.”

        “The man poured a bluish juice into the bowls and offered one to Shadows-pawn.

        “How do you know me?”

        “I know you as well as I know myself. I recognized you by your soul. You are with the guild of assassins in Oberron, selling your services to whoever will pay. Your name, or the one you took, is spoken only with praise by your peers; with terror by the common folk.”

        “You still haven’t answered my question. Who are you?”

        “I have no name now, but Mystic-mage will do.”

        “I have heard this name.” Shadows-pawn said in a slightly raised voice. “Fool the mage you speak of is dead.”

        “The only one dead is you Shadows-pawn. You have no friends, no family, and nothing else. You have made nothing of your life you are simply a tool.”

        “Worthless sentiment, I make a good living for myself.”

        “What are you looking for when you look into the eyes of your victims, Empty One?”

        Holding eye contact the Mystic mage challenged him to find the answer. He sat silent as he contemplated the answer. The silence lasted a long time, but the minute Shadows-pawn broke eye contact he knew he was beaten.

        “Why should I believe any of this? After all you are a powerful wizard.”

        “Those two who wish death upon me,” the Mystic-mage pointed towards the towers, “are fools. They know the cost of everything but not the value. In their arrogance they believe strength is everything. All I do is reflect their magic back on them, it takes the lightest touch. They refuse to acknowledge that they could be defeated by one weaker than them.”

        “Thank you for telling me that.”

        Shadows-pawn moved toward the mage, but he stepped aside with easy. He held up a hand as he moved to a better position.

        “Wait.” He said. “Allow me a moment more before you end my life.”

        Shadows-pawn waited for the mage to continue.

        “I look at you now and realize my quest has not been in vain. It is time to save another and as I said my journey has been long. It is time for it to end.”

        Shadows-pawn gripped his dagger and made to stab at the mystic-mage.

        “You have failed mage; I am the best at what I do. Let the thought of your failure follow you to the grave.”

        With that said Shadows-pawn struck hard at the mages abdomen. With unexpected strength the mage held his arm steady inches away from fabric.

        “Have I failed? Have I really? Look into my eyes, maybe you will finally see that thing you don’t even know you’re looking for.”

        "Abruptly he pulled the dagger from my hands and discarded it. He looked deep into my eyes and…”

        “And what?” one of the mercenaries asked.

        “What did you see?” asked another.

        The men and women listened hoping to catch any whisper of an answer.

        “He was right you know,” Shadows-pawn continued.

        “About what,” someone asked.

        “Everything, the moment he looked into my eyes I was..., I saw everything for what it was, But worst of all I saw no fear in him, no hate, only understanding, forgiveness, mercy, and compassion. In spite of my skill, my wealth, or my reputation I was worthless.”

        “This is what I seek now, hearty adventurers. I seek atonement for the all the crimes you have committed. I seek that which you have destroyed in the name of greed.”

        An upsurge of activity followed as they realized what his words meant. Dagger, crossbows, and swords came up to bare upon him, but it was too late. Several where already dead; judged and executed.
© Copyright 2013 Joe (mysticmage1 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1936995-The-Huntsman