Following Our Quarry 

"There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter." 

- Ernest Hemingway 

Jordan surveyed the scene, his brow so deeply furrowed that he appeared to be scowling. 

He barked down at one of the rangers who was busy picking carefully through the carnage, "What tale do these tracks tell?" 

"It's difficult to make sense of it, my Lord!" the ranger, a tall, fair-haired Poan from the western steppe, called back. 

"The beasts were drawn to something. That much I'm certain of, but what happened to them is another matter. I have never seen anything like this before." 

He suspected witchcraft or some form of divine retribution. There was no other way to explain it. How else were the wounds so clean? Heads and limbs hacked off. Body parts piled up everywhere. Yet there was no blood. At least, nowhere near as much as would be expected. 

He picked up a stray leg, part of a great jackal from the patterning of its hide, and examined the wound. He was surprised to find that the flesh was cauterized. He had seen that sort of thing before when surgeons of the Poan legion were amputating limbs from wounded soldiers, but there was always some blood and it never looked as clean as this. 

He spotted a trail of blood and moved to examine it. At last! Here was a tale he could read. He scanned the scene, his trained eye quickly making sense of the tracks. He spotted a leather satchel as well as the remains of a human leg and shouted out. "My Lord. You should see this!" 

"What is it?" Jordan asked as he trotted his horse over to the ranger. 

"Grave news I'm afraid." The Ranger responded, looking up at Jordan. He held up the satchel and pointed at the leg. 

Jordan nodded. His face betrayed no emotion. 

"Which of my foolish sons does that leg belong to?" Jordan asked. "And where is the rest of him?" 

"My Lord, it is impossible to tell, but I can tell you that we should follow these horse tracks." The ranger replied, pointing at a very clear set of tracks. 

They were unmistakable amidst the turmoil, easily an inch deeper than any other track. The horse that made them was far heavier than any other creature on the plain. 

"I think that whatever created these tracks is responsible for this ungodly mess." He said before recounting as much of the tale as he could discern, indicating the various bodies to emphasize key points in the drama that had played out here. 

“It’s strange, my liege.” The ranger said, scratching his head. “It appears as though the beast that did this took both of your sons. If I’m reading this right, it looks like it fought to defend the owner of this leg. I guess its Denmark’s. It then took him away, heading towards the Skyforge.” 

"We must tread carefully, Sire." He warned. "Whatever took your sons was able to do this single-handedly and against cavers too. I fear there is dark sorcery at work here." 

"Spare me your superstitious opinions Ranger." Jordan retorted. “What about Sweden? What do the tracks say?” 

“If I am reading the tracks right, Sweden came here on foot.” The Ranger continued, “It looks like he found the leg but was attacked by three cavers. I have identified two caver corpses but the third appears to have escaped unharmed.” 

“Sweden survived a caver attack?” Jordan was incredulous. 

“No. Well, maybe he did. It looks like whatever took Denmark came back and took Sweden too. It probably saved his life because Sweden was definitely being chased by the cavers” 

The Ranger rubbed his chin as he contemplated the deep tracks disappearing into the distant haze of fire and light. Why would it be taking them towards the Skyforge? 

"Men! Mount up!" 

Jordan’s order snapped him out of his reverie. 

“My Lord, if we travel much further North we risk the Withering.” The Ranger said. 

He was not really concerned; he had been much further North before and had a good handle on where the danger zone was. However, he had an ulterior motive and was actively trying to keep Jordan and his entourage within a designated area. 

“I am aware of the risks, Ranger,” Jordan replied curtly. “The small matter of my lineage takes precedence.” 

With that, he drove his spurs into the flanks of his steed and galloped off on the trail of the mystery horse. 

"Perhaps I should have mentioned that the other caver was still following our quarry." The ranger said under his breath as he turned to watch Jordan go, a sly grin crossing his face. 

As the other rangers galloped after their Lord, he turned and scanned the horizon to his right. He spotted the flutter of a red flag on the crest of a hill and smiled. The trap was set.

Chapter 15

Art  by Daniel Sheldon https://www.facebook.com/speednperspective