Story the Third

  The Huntsman’s Revenge

  Present

  The man strode into the Inn and Tavern like he owned the place. He was known as the Green Hunter, a notorious bounty hunter and occasional thief. He was in a good mood tonight, as he and his motley group of thugs had just taken in a large bounty, and he planned to splurge his new gold in the oldest wine and the yummiest food for him and his thugs.

  “Hey, Dave.” Hunter tossed some silvestras to the bartender. “Get us your finest food and drink. We caught ourselves a big one earlier.”

  Dave hurried to the back of the Inn and Tavern, and Hunter turned to his thugs, who had come in behind him, to give his customary end-of-hunt pep talk. “Alright, great job everyone. Next time, surround him a little faster and make tough faces to intimidate him.” Hunter paused. “And Coulson, don’t make that face. It looks like you’re having a seizure.”

  One of the thugs had been practicing his “tough face,” and at that, he scowled sheepishly. (Thugs never smile – they only scowl.)

  Just then, Hunter heard someone clomping down the stairs of the Inn and Tavern. He turned around to see who would dare to interrupt the Green Hunter’s end-of-hunt pep talk. It was a girl, maybe 18 years old or so. She stomped all the way down the stairs and started to walk toward the door when she saw Hunter and his thugs, and stopped in her tracks. “The Green Hunter,” the girl squeaked.

  So she knows who I am – good, Hunter thought. He decided to scare her a bit, to teach her to stay away from thugs. “Well, well. Look what we have here.” Hunter stepped menacingly toward the girl. “Little missy must’ve lost her way home, eh?”

  A man rushed down the stairs. “Leave her alone, Hunter,” he warned.

  Oh great, here’s the knight in shining armor. Hunter rolled his eyes inwardly. Here to protect his love. Blah blah blah blah. He should have known I only answer to Green Hunter. Time to teach him a lesson…

  “Boys?” Hunter said smoothly, and his thugs surrounded the girl and the man. He made a mental note to commend their surrounding later. “No one tells me what to do,” Hunter stated, then punched the man in the face, not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough that it would hurt for a few days.

  As soon as the man hit the ground, soldiers came out of their hiding places and surrounded Hunter and his thugs. Hunter had to admit, the soldiers were super stealthy; even he hadn’t known they were there.

  “Who dares to punch King Hugh, ruler of all Samyia?” asked one of the soldiers.

  All of the thugs pointed at Hunter. So much for loyalty, he thought.

  “King Hugh” stood up. “Looks like we have a reason to finally put you in prison. Hunter, you are under arrest for assaulting the king.”

  The soldiers tied Hunter up, and he didn’t fight it. He knew he was outnumbered and outmaneuvered.

  As the prison carriage drove away, Hunter stared out the back window at the Inn and Tavern. Be careful, Hugh, he warned him silently. One day, my thugs will break me out, and I will have my revenge.

  Past – 20 years earlier

  Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Carlos. He was 10 years old and lived with his father in a cabin in the woods. His mother had died several years ago from a sickness. (I heard it was a sickness similar to Typhoid.) Carlos’ father was a kindhearted man who helped every traveler in need, and for that, Carlos adored him. (Who wouldn’t?)

  Carlos’ father was a woodsman. Whenever he and Carlos needed food, he took his bow and arrows, donned his dark green camouflaged cloak, and went out into the woods. Sometimes he let Carlos come along, and he promised to make Carlos a cloak of his own.

  Whenever Carlos wasn’t helping his father, he was usually in their cabin, pretending to be one of the heroes his father read books to him about. His favorite book was titled, “Stories of Samyia.” He planned to live in the forest and fight bandits when he was older. He wanted to be able to keep the forest safe and help anyone in need, just like his father did every day.

  On Carlos’ 12th birthday, his father finally gave him his own camouflaged cloak. His father said that it was time he learned the secrets of the trade. Soon Carlos was as good as his father, and then he was even better. His father said he had never seen a hunter with as much natural skill as Carlos.

  As the years went by, more and more travelers stopped by, until the cabin became an outpost for anyone going anywhere, and there was usually at least one traveler per day. Sometimes there would be ruffians, but Carlos’ father always greeted them kindly, and in turn, the ruffians respected him. (Or at least they didn’t trash the cabin.)

  With so many people visiting and eating their food, Carlos was hunting almost constantly. Most of the time, he was gone from sunup to sundown. Carlos was happy with being able to help so many people, but he worried that some of the ruffians would one day cause trouble. His father brushed away his fears, saying that the ruffians had been well-behaved so far. (Or as well-behaved as a ruffian can be.)

  Then one day, it happened. Carlos was 16 years old. He was hunting in the woods when he heard a scream. He rushed back to the cabin as fast as he could, but he was too late. His father was dead. Carlos followed some suspicious tracks into the woods and quickly caught up with some ruffians.

  “Why did we even attack him?” one was saying. “He didn’t even have anything worth stealing, just an old green cloak.”

  Carlos didn’t need to hear anymore. He leaped out of cover behind the ruffians and managed to take down two of them with his bow, but the third ruffian was too fast and hit Carlos with a stout tree branch before he could notch another arrow to his bow.

  As everything faded to black, the last ruffian bent over Carlos, revealing a star-shaped birthmark on his cheek. “You can run, but you can’t hide,” Carlos rasped, “not from me.” Then the ruffian was gone and Carlos succumbed to the blackness.

  Present

  Prison was boring.

  Hunter had already been there for a few months and did not like it so far. He had hoped there would at least be some fistfights, but he was separated from the other prisoners. The only human interaction he had was when someone stopped by to give him food and empty the pot he called a toilet. Of course, even then, the door to his tiny cell remained closed, and a tiny gate at the foot of his door opened instead, allowing the guard to quickly take out his pot and give him a plate of food.

  Hunter’s only entertainment was plotting the ways he would take his revenge upon King Hugh. His ideas involved throwing Hugh in a pit until he pleaded for mercy, throwing that girl in a pit until Hugh pleaded for mercy, or throwing them *both* in a pit until Hugh pleaded for mercy. (His ideas all involved a bunch of pits and Hugh pleading for mercy.)

  Sometimes, Hunter would press his ear to the floor of the cell, desperately hoping to hear the sound of pickaxes working away at the stone, or he’s put his water cup on the floor to see if the water would tremble from the vibrations of mining.

  At last, Hunter had to admit that it seemed like his thugs had abandoned him to prison. And after all I’ve done for them, too! Hunter grumbled to himself. If one of them were in prison, I’d get him out.

  Hunter ended up using some of his boot stash silvestras to bribe one of the guards into getting him some paper, and he spent the days folding and unfolding paper cranes. (Though he did manage to bribe a guard into teaching him more origami figures.) But one can only do origami for so long, and soon Hunter was desperate to get out of prison.

  When his next meal came, Hunter kept his spoon. (Forks and knives were not allowed.) Of course, one of the guards asked him what happened to the spoon, and Hunter just pointed to his pot and shrugged. The guard did not go to the trouble to even glance in the pot, so the spoon remained safe under his bed. For the next part of his plan, he used the handle of his spoon to start scraping out a tunnel behind his bed. Every time a guard tried to check on him, Hunter wailed and yelled like he was going crazy, and the guards quickly left him alone.

  At first, the stone was as hard as…well, rock, but after months and months of digging, Hunter broke through the rock layer and breached a plaster-like substance. It seemed that the prison had budget issues, and had to fill in between the walls with the cheapest material they could find. Mining out this material was super easy, barely an inconvenience, and Hunter quickly excavated a hole big enough for him to curl up in.

  Sometimes, Hunter would put his water cup on the floor while he worked on his tunnel, just so he could imagine that the ripples were caused by someone mining in to rescue him. Maybe I am going crazy, Hunter admitted to himself. I think prison has addled my mind.

  One day, Hunter took a break from mining and watched the water in his cup tremble. Someone’s coming to save me, he thought, almost sleepily. It’s too bad it’s rippling because of my mining. Then he started. Wait, I’m not mining right now!

  Hunter put his ear to the floor and heard a faint hammering sound. He wanted to whoop with joy. Someone was coming to save him!

  Past – 14 years earlier

  When Carlos awoke, it was almost evening. He didn’t want to get lost in the woods in the dark, so he immediately set off for home. He was so exhausted when he got there that he got in bed without even taking off his shoes. (Evidently, being unconscious is not restful.)

  In the morning, Carlos packed up his things. He took as much food as he could fit in his pack, his bow and arrows, and his father’s dark green cloak. Carlos’ cloak had grown too small for him about a year ago, but his father’s was the perfect size. Carlos’ only plan was to somehow track down the ruffian with the star-shaped birthmark and make him pay for what he did to Carlos’ father. He wasn’t sure how he would do this, but figured the ruffian would be pretty recognizable and hard to forget.

  And so, Carlos set off on his mission. He visited every town, talked little, and gave no name. He always kept his hood up, so no one really saw his face. He often helped those who were less fortunate, but those stories were drowned out by the more exciting stories of a mysterious, stealthy bounty hunter. Everyone referred to him as The Green-Cloaked Bounty Hunter, or, more simply, The Green Hunter.

  As two years went by with not even a peep of a ruffian with a star-shaped birthmark, Carlos decided to become an actual bounty hunter. His hunting skills proved quite useful for tracking down people who didn’t want to be found, so useful, in fact, that he was eventually hand-picked by an infamous bounty hunter a few months later. Apparently, the bounty hunter was supposed to track down another bounty hunter, but the man had evaded the best of his trackers. Hence where Carlos came in. Today was the day when he was to meet the trackers and thugs he would be working with.

  When he got to the meeting place, Carlos was surprised to see that one of the thugs was a girl dressed in camouflaged armor. “Whatcha looking at?” the girl demanded.

  “Just surprised to see a girl doing a man’s job,” Carlos replied smoothly.

  “When times get tough, you gotta do what you gotta do. And don’t think you can boss me around just ‘cause I’m a girl, you little squirt.”

  “Point taken.” Little squirt? Seriously? I’m like one year younger than her!

  “Name’s Laura. What’s yours?”

  Carlos had to think about that one for a little bit. Did he want to go with his real name, or the one that had been bestowed upon him? He made his choice. “Folks call me the Green Hunter, but you can just call me Hunter.”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Present

  Hunter listened excitedly as someone mined into the prison. Every now and then, he would stomp on the floor in the pattern that he and his thugs used to guide rescuers to their cells. He made sure to continue scaring the guards away by acting crazy.

  After a week or two of mining, it sounded as if Hunter’s rescuers were just on the other side of his wall – and then the mining stopped. Curious, Hunter took his spoon to the back of his half-finished tunnel. He dug toward where he last heard the mining, and broke into a much larger tunnel, interrupting a very heated conversation and causing the only two miners around to freeze up in shock.

  “Hello there,” Hunter said with a smile. “Looking for me?”

  One of the miners ran down the tunnel – probably to talk to whoever was in charge – and the other miner stood there awkwardly, watching Hunter out of the corner of his eye. Very soon, the first miner came back and told Hunter that their leader was ready to see him.

  Hunter followed the miners down the long and winding tunnel until the three of them broke out into a small canyon, and Hunter winced at the sudden light. As they walked through what seemed like a camp carved into the canyon walls, he was surprised to see that he didn’t recognize any of the thugs that milled around, and his own group of thugs was nowhere in sight. If my thugs aren’t the ones who are rescuing me, then who is?

  The miners took him into the deepest cave, where a medium-sized white tent had been set up. The trio ducked inside, and Hunter was shocked to see the person who sat behind the only table in the tent, head held high with authority.

  “Laura?! What are you doing here?” Hunter looked at his former friend, who was still using her trademark camouflage armor. She hadn’t changed a bit in the 12 years since he last saw her. Then he grew suspicious. “You’re not here to recruit me again, are you? You know I will never work with you ever again – not after last time.”

  Laura sighed and rested her arms on the table in front of her, leaning forward in her chair. “Yes, I’m here to recruit you once more.” She held up a hand to interrupt his objections. “I know you’d rather not work with me and my bounty hunters, but you can either help us get our mark, and then we can go our separate ways, or we can put you back where we found you and leave you to rot in jail for the rest of your life.”

  “I guess I should at least hear you out, then,” Hunter grumbled.

  “I think you won’t mind going after our latest mark. He’s only a few months old, but-“

  “You want me to go after a baby?!” Hunter interjected.

  “Let me finish. He’s only a few months old, but he has maximum security, especially after we tried to get him and failed. We need you to sneak into his house and kidnap him for us.”

  “Sounds easy enough. What’s the catch? What’s so important about this baby?”

  “He’s just the crown prince of Samyia. The son of King Hugh, actually.”

  “Oh really?” A grin slowly spread across Hunter’s face. “Then count me in.”

  Past – 12 years earlier

  Carlos stood surrounded by a group of thugs. He had already helped them track their mark to a seemingly abandoned house, and now it was his job to sneak in and tie up the rogue bounty hunter while he slept. Carlos knew he had to be the sneakiest he’d ever been to pull it off.

  He pulled his dark green cloak tight around him, grabbed a loop of rope, and crept quietly toward the house. Carlos checked the windows cautiously and was rewarded with a glance of someone sprawled out on a bed, snoring so loudly, Carlos could hear it through the window.

  He quickly checked to make sure no one else was in the house, then proceeded with his task. First, he oiled the hinges of the door so they wouldn’t squeak, then opened the door slowly. The house was almost pitch-black, but Carlos was able to make his way to the sleeping bounty hunter.

  Using the light from a nearby window, Carlos tied up the bounty hunter, slowly, cautiously, and quietly, just like the thugs had taught him to. Carlos tied the bounty hunter’s hands together, then tied his feet together, giving him enough slack to walk, but not enough to run. An extra length of rope served as a lead, connected to the rope that bound the bounty hunter’s hands together.

  When the bounty hunter was thoroughly secured, Carlos woke him up.

  The bounty hunter blinked awake slowly. He saw what had happened in his sleep, and his eyes widened in fear. “Please don’t do this to me,” he begged Carlos. “Let me go, please! You can tell them that I ran away or something. Just please don’t take me to them!”

  Carlos shook his head. “You have to pay for your crimes. Come along now.” He led the bounty hunter out of the house, with the bounty hunter whimpering the whole way.

  “Good job, Hunter.” Laura took the rope that acted as a lead and nodded to the thugs. The thugs took out containers full of some sort of murky liquid and started pouring it on the house. Once all the liquid was poured, one of the thugs took out flint and steel and brushed some sparks onto the house, which caught fire easily and was soon blazing.

  The bounty hunter fell to his knees. “Please, have mercy on me!”

  “You will not find mercy from me, not anyone else,” stated Laura. “This is what happens to those who reject Maddox. Hopefully, you will make better choices in the future.” When Laura was done speaking, one of the thugs hit the bounty hunter on the head with a club, knocking him unconscious. Carlos winced, remembering how he had been hit on the head at age 16.

  “Was all that really necessary to take him back for whoever is paying for the mark?” Carlos asked Laura.

  “Oh, we’re not taking him back. We were paid to burn his house down and leave him tied up out here. If he can untie himself, then he has earned his freedom.”

  Carlos frowned. “That’s not what I was told.”

  “We…stretched the truth a little. We knew you were too soft to handle it.”

  “Better a soft heart than one made of stone.”

  “Do you want your share or not?”

  “I will have no part in this.”

  “Kinda late for that.” Laura shrugged. “More for us, I guess.”

  Carlos didn’t say anything, just turned to leave. But before he did, he couldn’t resist adding, “And by the way, I will never work with you again. Never.”

  Present

  Hunter stood once more surrounded by thugs, gazing at a house. He felt as if he was repeating that fateful moment, 12 years ago. “I’ll never work with you again.” Guess I couldn’t keep that promise, he thought ruefully. It’s just like last time, albeit with a much bigger house and ten times the number of guards. Though ten times zero is still zero.

  Laura moved next to Hunter. “You’ve got a plan to deal with any guards, right?”

  Hunter held up his new walking stick. “Just the good old bash ‘n’ run. Once I take out the guards, I’ll let you guys in, and you guys will keep watch while I get the baby.”

  Laura tilted her head. “You’ve come a long way, Hunter. Twelve years ago, you wouldn’t even burn a house down with no one in it, and now you’re planning to kidnap an innocent baby. What happened to your soft heart?”

  “Hearts can harden over time. With my profession, it was kind of necessary. I was na?ve back then, but I’ve grown up.”

  Hunter wasn’t sure, but he thought Laura said under her breath, “I kinda miss your soft heart,” but he might’ve been mistaken.

  “Sounds like we’re ready, then.” Laura made some hand signals, and her thugs found spots to hide in the brush around the castle. “Good luck, Hunter.”

  Hunter snuck quietly up to the moat surrounding Hugh’s castle and swam across. He took out his grappling hook and threw it over the top of the wall. As usual, it stuck first try, and Hunter climbed up the wall quickly, walking stick in a holster on his back. One guard came to investigate the sounds made by the grappling hook getting thrown over the wall, but a bonk on the head made quick work of him. Hunter went down a flight of stairs and unlocked the sally-port, a small door in the wall, allowing the thugs to sneak in.

  The thugs set up a perimeter around the nursery, and Hunter went inside to find the baby. He almost ran into several guards, but each time he was able to slip into a different room or corridor and avoid them. He didn’t want to alert the guards to the fact that something was amiss by knocking 1 or 2 of them out and having another guard discover them.

  Finally, Hunter found the baby’s bedroom. He snuck in and found the baby lying in a cradle, fast asleep. Something about watching a baby sleep re-awoke Hunter’s compassion and empathy and took him back to the time when he dreamed of being a hero. I’m far from a hero now, he thought bitterly.

  Maybe not as far as you think, said a little voice in his head. You can be a hero right now.

  I have to stick to the mission, argued Hunter.

  But think of what will happen to the child if you separate him from his parents. Who knows what those thugs will do with him?

  Hunter felt himself softening and fought harder. But they’ll put me back in prison! I can’t live like that!

  This little one’s fate will be worse than prison: He will be a puppet king, forever forced to do the bidding of others. What would your father want you to do?

  Oh, alright – fine! Just stop bothering me. Hunter left the baby’s bedroom and went up to the first guard he saw. “You need to sound the alarm,” he said. “Bounty hunters are trying to kidnap the crown prince.”

  “Okay – Hey, wait a minute-” By the time the guard drew his sword, Hunter was already gone. As he fled the castle, he could hear shouts and people running. Now I just have to get out without getting caught. He climbed up the steps of the wall and dove into the moat. He could hear arrows hitting the water all around him, but thankfully it was too dark for the archers to aim well. At last, Hunter reached the safety of the woods, but the thugs were waiting for him.

  “Well, well, well, look what we have here.” Laura crossed her arms. “Thanks to you, we lost half of the thugs, and don’t even have the mark to show for it. I hope you’re ready to explain this to Maddox.”

  Several thugs grabbed ropes and went after Hunter. He fought the best he could, but he was outnumbered. They trussed him up like a turkey and tied him onto the back of Laura’s horse.

  After a day of traveling in this fashion, Hunter was tired of being bumped, jostled, and fed like a baby. The thugs didn’t risk untying him for a single moment. He was relieved when the entourage of horses slowed to a stop in a sheltered grove, and he was finally untied.

  Hunter was mid-stretch when a voice said, “What is the meaning of this?” Hunter turned around and gasped. In the middle of the grove was a hill, and on this hill a man was sitting regally on a throne made of branches woven together. But that was not what made Hunter gasp, for on the man’s cheek was a star-shaped birthmark. Hunter was lost for words.

  “Hunter botched the operation,” answered Laura. “We lost half our thugs thanks to this pig.” She slapped Hunter up the backside of his head.

  “That’s unlucky for him.” The man noticed Hunter staring at him intently. “What? Why are you staring at me like that? Do I have something on my face?” The man brushed off his face to make sure it was clean.

  “You,” Hunter hissed, eyes narrowed. “I’ve been looking for you for fourteen years. I’ve come to make you pay.”

  “Ha ha ha. Very funny. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Does this cloak look familiar? Or does the name Carlos ring a bell?” The man looked perplexed. “Fourteen years ago, you and two of your lackeys came to my house and killed my father. I chased you down and killed your two thugs in return, but it wasn’t enough to pay you back for what you did.”

  The man scratched his chin. “I honestly don’t remember any of this.”

  Hunter raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You don’t remember me saying, ‘You can run, but you can’t hide. Not from me’?”

  The man laughed maniacally. “Of course I remember! I was just messing with you!” He went deathly still. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish you never crossed Maddox.” He added, “Maddox is me, by the way. I just said it in third person to add drama. I propose a duel.”

  “A duel?”

  “Yes. A duel. I just said that. A fight to the death, to see which of us is better, and to give you a chance at revenge. Since I proposed the duel, you get to choose the weapon.”

  “Uh – staffs, I guess?” Luckily, Hunter still had his trusty walking stick.

  “Interesting choice.” Maddox pulled out a walking stick of his own, which was expertly sanded and was tipped with iron on both ends. Not wasting any time, Maddox flew at Hunter, and Hunter barely had time to put up his stick to block the blow. He instantly realized how much stronger Maddox was. If he wanted to win this duel, he would have to be smart about it.

  As they traded blows back and forth, Hunter learned to avoid Maddox’s blows in such a way that Maddox expended lots of energy, while Hunter used the minimum amount of energy needed.

  It seemed as if Maddox was winning, as he was getting loads more hits off than Hunter. Just as it seemed Maddox would win, Hunter began to batter away, hammering relentlessly. Since Maddox was already tired, it wasn’t long before Hunter batted away his staff and held him at stick-point.

  Maddox closed his eyes to wait for Hunter to deal the final blow, but when it didn’t come, he opened his eyes to see Hunter step backward. “I don’t need to kill you to take my revenge. Living with the knowledge that I beat you in a duel should be punishment enough.”

  Hunter’s short speech was met with a slow clap from Maddox. “I can see you’re a man of honor and integrity,” he said. “Good thing I’m not.” Maddox reached into his pocket, and Hunter barely had enough time to jump to the side before he stuck at Hunter with a dagger. The dagger was supposed to go into Hunter’s chest, but his dodge was enough for it to miss. Hunter thought he was completely clear of the dagger’s path, but then he felt a searing pain in his side. The pain made him feel faint, and his legs buckled, slamming him into the ground.

  Maddox lifted his head, and in the silence, everyone heard the stamp of horses’ hooves.

  “It’s King Hugh’s guards!” cried one of the sentries. “They’ve come to arrest us!”

  “Drat! How could they find us here?” Maddox turned to his defeated foe. “Have fun, Hunter. I wonder if they’ll execute you for attempting to kidnap the heir to the throne?” And with that, Maddox vaulted onto his horse and rode out of the clearing, his followers just behind him.

  As Hunter lay on the ground, bleeding out, one hand held over his wound in an attempt to block the flow of blood, listening to horses gallop, some leaving, and some arriving, he could only hope that somehow it was all worth it.

  Worth it to betray his allies.

  Worth it to break the code of the bounty hunter.

  Worth it to leave his old life behind.

  Worth it to save the son of his enemy.

  And, perhaps, worth it to give up his life.