Kings Hunter

My knife plunges deep into the chest of the king. The look upon his pale face is a mixture of shock, fear and pain. As I bring the knife down, it catches a glint of moonlight through the window until it is covered in dripping gore. The king grunts with pain as I twist the blade towards his heart and I lean in close as he whispers a word that is little more than a dying whimper.

“Why?”

I pull the knife free in a spurt of crimson, wipe it on my sleeve and in the surface I catch the reflection of the woman who killed the king. The king grabs my arm, but the strength is almost gone and he claws limply at me. Again, the king repeats the question as he gasps his last breath.

“Look at my face, you old bastard, and see your killer.”

So the king dies in a pool of blood within his bedchamber. The guards hammer on the door after hearing the screams of pain and I know my time is short. Tucking the blade into my belt, I rush to the window and climb onto the ledge as the door smashes inwards. Pulling my hood up, I wait a moment so I can see the distress of the guards at seeing their beloved king dead before their feet.

But only one man stands in the room, looking directly at me with an expression I was not expecting. I lower my gaze, pulling my hood further over my face to conceal my identity. When Kings Hunter gives you that half smile gaze, you know that he has marked you for death. Not many men scare me, but Kings Hunter is a hard son of a bitch. But Kings Hunter is old now, his unkempt hair streaked with rivers of grey and his face scared and wrinkled. Yet those eyes of blue shine and he marked me. Oh yes, he marked me.

“You had better run, little pup,” Kings Hunter says in a low voice. “You can have a head start, you’ll need it.”

For a moment I am frozen on the ledge, the night wind blowing fiercely around me. Kings Hunter does not make a move, nor does he take his eyes from me. He studies me, taking in my size and shape, looking for whatever weakness he can. I had thought Kings Hunter to be up in the hills, making my chance of escape a certain thing. But he had returned early and suddenly I can see my own death closing fast.

“Your king is dead,” I say, my voice a gruff whisper to make me sound more man than woman. “You have no king to hunt for.”

Kings Hunter takes a step towards me. “Aye, that is true, but I do have a king to avenge.”

I tense, ready to fall back over the ledge and take the leap from ten levels to end it quick. If Kings Hunter caught me, the death would be slow and agonising. But I am cock sure enough of my abilities to think I have a fighting chance. Besides, I had finally fulfilled my destiny and killed the king. I am now free to be what I chose.

I spit on the floor. “I respect you, Kings Hunter, but I will kill you if you come after me.”

Kings Hunter smiles and there is a glint in his eye. “Run, little one. Run until you drop, because I shall not give up until you are dead. But I promise you this: a slow death, worthy of one who would kill a king.”

The challenge set, I reach out and grab the rope tied beneath the ledge. Into the night I drop, letting the rope slide down through my gloved hands, my feet seeking out well remembered foot holds to slow my descent. Taking a glance upwards, I see the face of Kings Hunter peering down. There is a glint of a knife in his hand as he slices through my rope. I am nearly at the foot of the castle when the rope is finally cut and I fall back with my arms flapping around uselessly. The impact on the ground knocks the wind from me and I lay gasping for air. Too many seconds pass and I realise the longer I delay, the more time I give to Kings Hunter. Struggling to my feet, I am relieved to find myself unharmed.

My black horse is waiting nearby and I rush to her, throw myself over and kick her into a gallop away from the castle. My cloak billows out behind me and my heart is beating to the time of the hooves thundering across the hard, frosty ground. My horse shakes her head and dives into the night, urged on faster as I glance behind in fear of Kings Hunter. I guide her towards the forest of Moon where I figure I will have the best chance to evade Kings Hunter. Aye, he knew the forest paths well, but I knew them better.

When I reach the forest, I slow my horse to a gentle trot and duck down under the low hanging branches. It is pitch black, the forest lit by the occasional moon beam that casts white light through gaps in the trees. As I go deeper, I begin to relax and the scale of what I have done causes my head to spin. I drop from the horse and fall to my knees, retching on the forest floor. When I close my eyes, I see the dying king’s face screwed up in pain, asking that one single question:

“Why?”

Did I ask why when my mother was slaughtered by the king? I was a girl of eight and my mother had taken me on a walk into Moon Forest. As she gathered flowers, I had grown bored and run away to hide. As she called out to me, I climbed a tree and spied at her from my hiding place. Then the king rode by, Kings Hunter at his side.
The king approached my mother and Kings Hunter waited beneath the tree I was hiding in.

Something kept me quiet that day, and I wonder now if I had called out if things would be different. But I replay the moment over and over and I see the king talking with my mother who falls to her knees before him. There is a flash of steel and the scream of pain as the king’s sword plunges deep into my mother. Biting my lip, tears fall from my eyes and roll down my face. But I know to keep quiet. My mother’s body goes limp and collapses to the ground in a pool of blood. And the king casually wipes his sword on her pretty blue dress and mounts his horse again. Then they ride away, leaving my mother to the birds.

The king had asked why in his dying breath. Is revenge for my mother a good enough reason? I think it so. I get to my feet and look around at the darkness. My horse is impatient beside me and I realise I should keep moving. Guiding the horse, I hurry through the forest, picking up on hidden signs that told me I was on the correct path. After a while, I slide from my horse and tie her to a nearby tree. There is no sign of Kings Hunter and I relax. It is cold, so I make a small fire and huddle close to it, stretching out my hands for warmth. I stare at my hands and think about the murder I have committed. The old man deserved to die, yet guilt nags at me. Had I not spent the last ten years pushing myself to this very goal? Killing him had been easy, slipping into his bedchamber like a shadow.

Now I had to live with it.

There is the sound of birds flapping through the night and I sit up, tense. The forest has a voice and I can understand the language. It is telling me another stalks the paths towards me and I jump to my feet, kicking the fire out. Cursing under my breath, I realise that I have not covered my tracks. As I jump upon my horse, I see a figure come through the trees. We stare at each other for a moment.

“If you give yourself up now, I promise you a quick death,” Kings Hunter calls.

“Give up, old man,” I say gruffly. Kicking my horse into a gallop, I glance behind to see Kings Hunter mount his own horse. The chase is on and I keep low as I speed through the forest. Changing directions constantly, I manage to lose sight of Kings Hunter and slow to a trot. But I know that he will be on my trail. Jumping from my horse, I slap her rear and she breaks into a run away from me. I turn and head in the opposite direction, hoping Kings Hunter will follow the larger trail of the horse. By the time he realises what I have done, I hope to have vanished successfully into the night.

After a while, I come to a stream that cuts through the trees. I kneel by it and scoop up a handful of water and drink until my thirst is gone. Through the trees I can see the sky has become a lighter shade of blue and the stars have faded away. Dawn was close and realise I have survived the night against Kings Hunter. Getting to my feet, I feel confident that I have escaped the old man. Horseless, I know the journey to the next village would be slow and across the open plains I would be a target. As I think on finding a place to hide out in the forest, there is a snap of a twig behind.

A knife presses against my neck and I tense.

“Why?” Kings Hunter whispers in my ear.

“The king killed my mother in cold blood when I was a little girl. Is that not reason enough?”

Kings Hunter is silent for a moment and the knife presses into my neck. “Aye, that is a reason, but I wonder at the girl who could manage to kill a king.”

I smile to myself beneath my hood. The morning sun begins to shine down through the trees and warms my face. “A king’s daughter?”

Kings Hunter’s knife falls from my neck and he pulls my hood back. With a grunt, he releases me and I stagger away. “Princess Heruna,” he says, his voice hiding his surprise. “You were there the day your father killed your mother?”

I nod. “I was hiding in the tree when you rode in with him and stood by as he killed her in cold blood.”

Kings Hunter’s eyes lower to the floor. “The queen was becoming more popular than the king,” he says. “The kingdom was divided.”

“You are the king’s killer, why did you not kill my mother?”

Kings Hunter looks at me for a long moment, his eyes narrowing. “I had refused to kill the queen.”

“And what about the princess?” I ask. “Will you kill her?”

Kings Hunter snorts. “I vowed to the king that I would protect you.” He turns away from me, but looks over his shoulder. “He was not an evil man, your father; he regretted killing the queen.”

I shrug. “Even good men can do evil deeds.”
Kings Hunter nods, then heads back into the forest. The king is dead by my hand and my mother is avenged. As I walk away, I realise I was free from everything at last. More than that, I knew that I was the only one to ever walk away from Kings Hunter alive.