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“Okay now we’re all pretty sure the character in this story is the same person that’s in our new color webcomic but we’re not sure sure yet. This is called the Plot Against the Vicereine, and it’s a preview from the upcoming third book in the Ajan Warriors Series called Call of the Huntress. Here’s Part One, Part Two, Part Three, and Part Four.”

“I hope she’s nice to us, too.”

Fury of the Venom Legion Page One Color Print only in the LadyStar Gift Shop!

Plot Against the Vicereine Part One

Ruthless designs are being drawn against a Gacenar noble by a deadly band of vicious assassins. Who are they and why do they plot against the Vicereine? Can she escape their evil plan?

Plot Against the Vicereine Part Two

Who is the Vicereine Reina and why does she confront the merchants of Prince Branven Square? What power does she possess?

Plot Against the Vicereine Part Three

The maimed assassin Kenesh, the Scaled One, seeks a weapon to use against the Vicereine, and recruits a henchman. The stage is set.

Plot Against the Vicereine Part Four

The Scaled One waits in the shadows for a chance to steal the Vicereine’s chains, but even his poisoned blade may not be enough to defeat a Scribe Arcanist.

he Vicereine picked her way down the gentle slope of the gully step by step. She stopped near where Cici had fallen and very slowly began to crouch down. Using her staff for support, she allowed her hands to slide down the smooth twisted wood bit by bit. She winced and groaned in pain several times before coming to rest on her knees. She sat hunched over for a moment as if exhausted, clutching her staff to the side of her head. Her cowl hung down, covering her face. A few locks of white hair were visible along her back and along the edge of the cowl. Cici tried again to stop crying, but her ankle was very swollen by now, and her shoe was beginning to hurt her foot.

After a few moments, Reina finally placed the staff flat on the ground next to her. Cici felt a hand under her own and turned her head. She gasped as she saw a grayish slender hand with jewel-encrusted rings on all four fingers reach down and take her by the wrist. Cici sniffled and looked up. The woman seemed to be busy concentrating on something.

“Do not pull against the tree trunk.” Reina said.

Cici sniffled again. She didn’t know what to think. She was sure the robed woman was really mean, but now she sounded different. Reina looked at Cici’s dirt-streaked and astonished face. The woman’s gold-colored eyes made Cici feel better.

“I am not your enemy,” Reina said. “Sit up.”

Cici realized she wasn’t really stuck. She was just snagged on the tree and had been pulling in the wrong direction. She stopped pushing against the ground and gradually crawled sideways far enough that she could push herself up. The moment she tried to move her foot, however, she was rewarded with a stab of pain from her ankle. Cici cried out and pulled her foot up to her hands.

“Will you help me cast a healing spell?” Reina asked. Cici looked down through the blur of tears at her right foot. Her ankle was swollen and the skin around it was darker. She sniffled and looked up at Reina, then nodded.

“Sit up slowly this time,” Reina said. “Place your foot flat against the Earth. Gently.” Cici gingerly pushed herself up with one hand as Reina reached over and retrieved the Chronicler’s Lantern lying sideways on the ground. The robed woman placed the shining gold lantern upright next to her staff. The light from the lantern illuminated the side of the gully nicely. By now Cici was sitting up and rubbing her face with her hand, only succeeding in adding another layer of dirt.

“I am called Reina. What is your name?”

“I’m Cici. How come you wear so many rings?” Cici asked quietly, pointing at Reina’s hand while still rubbing her nose. Then she sniffled again.

“Because I like to collect beautiful things,” Reina replied, impressed by Cici’s inquisitiveness. “Do you like this ring, Cecilia?” she asked. Cici nodded, eyes wide. Reina indicated a heavy gold ring on her right hand set with a nearly transparent delicately faceted blue stone and decorated with a dozen smaller white gems.

“This ring is called the Soaring Chime. It was given to me long ago by a scribe named Giho skilled in the arts of gemcutting. He lives on an island in a place called the Princesses Crowns far away in the eastern sea. There are men there who dig deep into the mountains to find raw stones such as this one. The scribe spends years cutting and shaping them into Chimes. Chime stones can make sounds with magical properties.”

“What’s magical properties?” Cici asked, enthralled.

“It means this stone can ring, and the sound from it can heal your ankle,” Reina replied. “Will you help me make the Soaring Chime ring?”

“Can I?” Cici asked.

“Look carefully at the stone,” Reina said, offering her hand so Cici could see. “Do you see the upper edge? Where the tiny symbol is carved into the gold?”

Cici looked carefully and saw that the edge of the setting just above the oval-shaped sky-blue stone had a tiny symbol carved into the polished gold. If Reina hadn’t mentioned it, Cici would never have noticed it.

“All you must do is tap that symbol with your finger as if you are trying to make a bell ring,” Reina said. “Then, listen for the sound.”

Cici peered at the stone and the tiny symbol, then slowly reached up with her hand and held her finger over the ring for a moment. Then she flicked her hand, tapping the edge of the ring with her finger as if testing something she had been told was very hot.

A very soft and faint glow appeared in the center of the stone and Cici began to hear the sounds of chimes and bells all around her. First one, then a second. They began to play cascades of three tones, then five. Then ten. It sounded like someone drawing a stick along a series of bells, each one larger than the one before it, making a luxurious sound like the playing of all the strings of a harp from smallest to largest.

Cici looked at her foot and was startled by the greenish swirl of energy around her ankle. She saw a pale blue glow along the outer edge of her hand where she had been cut, and a silver shower of sparkling energy around the bruise on her knee. Her ankle felt much better. The music was so beautiful that Cici didn’t want it to end. All of her wounds and bruises were healed, and the music faded peacefully along with the glow of the Soaring Chime.

“It’s magic just like my lantern! Are you a warrior like me?” Cici asked. Reina’s expression changed.

“I am all that remains,” Reina replied.

LadyStar™ Call of the Huntress is Copyright © 2007 2008 Heavy Cat Multimedia Ltd. All Rights Reserved

“You’ll never believe it!”

“Tell me it’s going to be our first webnovel update in months.”

“Really Shannon-sama?!”

“We’re going to have an exclusive preview from the third book in the Ajan Warriors Series tomorrow.”

“Yay! See you tomorrow everyone! I can’t wait!”

The Ajan Warrior of the Night

“Well now we know why Miss Shannon had that big silly grin on her face a couple days ago. She’s got herself a brand new warrior page!”

“Ooh, it’s got everything! Let’s see, there’s Kishi and her ring, and her cape and arrows and it’s even got three different kinds of earrings!”

“It is a pretty nice page, huh?”

“Okay ladies, me and hunter girl over here have got our warrior stuff together. Let’s get with it! Where’s your new pages?! We’ve got four to go!”

“Oh my goodness”

“Heheee.. Ooh, if you wanna read one of the stories from Shannon-sama’s book when she’s the Huntress and fights monsters with her magical cat named Kishi, you should go see the Call of the Huntress page, ’cause we gots lots of neat stories! Have fun minna!”

“Su– sugoi…”

“That’s the ring. That’s the ring we found in the jewelry box in Jessica’s attic.”

“It’s made of sapphires.”

“Miss Shannon picked it up. I wonder if we’ll be finding that ring again soon?”

“My ring?”

“Okay, Hayashi and me fixed the Call of the Huntress page, and we got all of the links linked and the pages where they’re supposed to be.”

“Goody, ’cause I wanna read more about Shannon-sama and her big magical kitty cat named Kishi. There’s six previews now, huh?”

“Yes, and they’re all linked from the Call of the Huntress Preview Page. The four-part Plot Against the Vicereine Story is linked together as well, so you can read all four parts in sequence.”

“Sweet.”

LadyStar™ Call of the Huntress is Copyright © 2007 Heavy Cat Multimedia Ltd. All Rights Reserved

Shannon looked around. Some of the plants had grown rather close to the water on the opposite side of the narrow brook. One of the plants looked odd and Shannon couldn’t quite figure out why. She continued looking at it, trying to sort the leaves from the branches. It was a very dense plant, and the leaves were larger than most of the other plants, so it was hard to tell which leaf was which.

What she noticed, however, was the long light brown strings that seemed to run around and around the branches. It looked almost as if they were hanging there. Then Shannon realized they were. She stood up and stepped over the shallow water to get a closer look. Strung through the outer edge of the shrub’s branches were two long light brown cords that looked very much like they were made of the same kind of leather as her scabbard. Shannon picked them up. The two pieces were about the width of a shoelace, but at least twice as thick.

I wonder where these could have come from? Shannon thought. She looked back and forth, wondering if someone had perhaps dropped them or they snagged the plant as they passed. Then Shannon started scouting along the ground around the banks of the nearby brook, thinking perhaps whomever had lost these cords had perhaps dropped other items. After a few moments, however, Shannon had found nothing, so she carried them back to where she had been sitting.

As she sat examining the two laces, she glanced at the scabbard she had set down by the edge of the water. She picked it up and took a closer look at it. Sure enough, the scabbard and laces seemed to be made of almost exactly the same material. I knew it, Shannon thought. Maybe the scabbard and laces went together somehow?

Shannon examined the scabbard closely. There were twin sets of two notches cut into one side of the flat leather, but they were far too small to thread the laces through. Shannon exhaled impatiently and dropped her hands to her lap, still holding the laces and scabbard. What are these for? Why don’t they go together?

“You are going to be in such trouble when the farmer finds out you raided his apples,” a voice said from behind Shannon. She quickly turned to look. A boy about her age was leaning against one of the ash trees near the brook, staring off in another direction. He was dressed in ragged canvas pants and a dingy-looking light-colored long-sleeve shirt. He was tossing a small dark-colored coin of some kind with one hand. He turned his head to look at her and raised an eyebrow.

“Shouldn’t you be about your chores, princess?” he said with a smirk.

Shannon sat agape. At least a dozen different emotions collided in her mind, shouting for attention. The majority were various degrees of annoyance, anger, frustration, embarassment and apprehension. About all Shannon could manage was one sputtering response.

“I’m not a princess!”

“Whatever you say,” the boy replied, turning back to staring into the forest. His shock of brown hair was combed only in the most liberal sense of the word. Not that it seemed to concern him in the slightest.

“I could put in a good word for you with the farmer, but I’ll have to ask for a favor, you know,” he said.

“Why you..” Shannon got to her feet and clenched her fists. The boy turned and put his hands out to try and calm Shannon down.

“Hey, hey, don’t mean no harm, princess. I’m just on the lookout for a few coins so I can buy my breakfast all honest-like. Don’t want the merchants to think I’m a shady type.”

“Do I look like I have any coins? Why would I be picking apples if I had coins to buy them with you stupid, raggedy-looking doofus! And if I did have any coins the last person I’d give them to would be you. And stop calling me princess. I’m a high school student and I’m a squad leader in band!” Shannon almost shouted.

“And you’ve got a bit of a temper, haven’t you?” the boy winked. Shannon frowned, mouth open. She was rapidly becoming too angry for speech. She clenched her eyes shut.

“Ooooh!” she exclaimed in a frustrated tone, then whirled around and plopped back down on her spot by the brook.

The boy observed Shannon sitting with her back turned for a few moments, then put his hands in his pockets and sauntered over near where she was sitting.

“Where’d ya get that knife?” he asked.

“I found it,” Shannon snapped, then folded her arms with emphasis.

“Bet it’d sell for a tidy sum,” he persisted.

“It’s not for sale,” Shannon replied. “It’s mine.”

“Well, you said you found it. Could belong to someone else,” the boy said, rocking back and forth on his heels and looking out over the water.

“They don’t want to sell it either,” Shannon said. The boy chuckled.

“How do you know they don’t want to sell it?” he asked with an amused tone.

“Because I just do,” Shannon frowned stubbornly.

“Do you always get what you want?” the boy asked.

“Yes,” Shannon said with a note of finality.

“And you say you’re not a princess,” the boy teased. Shannon looked up with an astonished expression. The boy’s blue eyes made him look curious about her more than anything else.

“Ran away from home myself last harvest.” He smiled and nodded his head in an upstream direction. “There’s an abandoned barn on the opposite side of that stand of maple if the night breeze gets too cold for you. Watch out for the farmer though. He’s a mean one.”

The boy picked his way down the bank towards a large rock in the stream, then expertly hopped across to the opposite bank. Moments later he disappeared into the trees again.

Shannon sat with an expression of total incredulity on her face. Just who did he think he was?

“Hey everyone. We’ve had quite a few updates for the third book in our series, Call of the Huntress, so I thought it would be a good idea to make a list of what we’ve previewed so far.”

“That’s a great idea Shannon-sama!”

“Thanks, Hoshi! Okay, our first preview was By the Light of the Stars which is the story of the Warrior of the Night battling reptile-like monsters called Carcs.”

“Yucky. I don’t like monsters.”

“The second update was a four-part series called the Plot Against the Vicereine, about a noble in Aventar who gets attacked by evil assassins. Here’s Part One, Part Two, Part Three, and Part Four.”

“The Vicereine seems like she’s real strong. I hope we don’t have to fight her.”

“Yeah, but she gave that little boy a silver coin even though the price of the flower was a lot less. I think that was really nice.”

“Yeah! That was nice, huh? I wonder what a cruss ring is though.”

“So how come you decided to do a preview roundup today?”

“Guess.”

“Ooh! You’re gonna have another preview?! Realeeeee?”

“Check back later today everyone! A brand new exclusive preview from Book Three of our series Call of the Huntress, right here. See ya then!”

“Don’t miss the new preview! Ja minna!”

LadyStar™ Call of the Huntress is Copyright © 2007 Heavy Cat Multimedia Ltd. All Rights Reserved
Read Part One
Read Part Two
Read Part Three

Reina picked her way down the wooden stairs outside the Inn. It was approaching late evening, but the bustle of the marketplace continued by the light of dozens of lanterns, torches and the occasional roasting fire. The boy she had encountered before dinner was still waiting outside expectantly.

“A lily for the madam? A lily for the madam?” the boy said enthusiastically. Reina stopped and looked down at him. He seemed completely undaunted by her dark robes or cowl. He was filthy, but had managed to wash some of the accumulated grime from his face.

Orphaned, no home, and selling stolen lilies, Reina concluded without speaking. A guard pushed past two large inebriated stablehands and waved his hands at the boy, who cowered.

“That will be your last warning!” the guard shouted, then froze at the sight of the Vicereine. The officer lowered his hands almost in a gesture of surrender. Reina stood regally and looked the guard over once, fixing on his boots. She picked up her staff as an old woman might pick up a broom, reached out with its tip and tapped his right boot a few times as if testing a loose floorboard.

“The Captain will be most unhappy to find his men wearing second-hand boots,” Reina said, tilting her head sarcastically as if trying to get a better look at a confusing object. “I’ve heard tales of boots that look exactly like a Square Guard’s for sale in the curio shop.”

“Handsome replicas, madam,” the guard replied, then swallowed nervously. Reina looked up. One corner of the guard’s mouth rose sheepishly.

“Indeed,” Reina said, drawing the word out. The guard could not see her raised eyebrow.

“What is your price for this lily?” Reina turned back to the boy and indicated the flower at one edge of his wooden box.

“Three cruss rings,” the boy replied, his voice shaky as he glanced at the guard.

“Three? My boy, this lily.” Reina leaned down and pointed with emphasis. “This light-colored lily right here was but two rings before dinner. Have lilies become so rare between appetizer and dessert that I should pay another ring?” The boy hesitated. Reina held her jaw tightly. Finally the boy inhaled sharply.

“The price is three cruss rings for one lily,” he said as fast and as bravely as he could.

The Vicereine stood back up straight and reached across her waist with the opposite hand for her coin purse.

“You’re an honest bargainer,” Reina stated flatly. Then she presented the boy with a bright silver monarch. The boy’s eyes widened as he watched. The priceless rings on each of the Vicereine’s slender fingers gleamed in the light of the Inn’s lanterns. She carefully placed the coin in his flower box, then leaned close and spoke quietly.

“Do not spend this precious coin, but keep it for a worthy day. Perhaps on that day honesty such as yours will return to the streets of Aventar.”

The boy looked up and nodded as he handed Reina her flower. She carefully took it, stood up straight and nodded. The boy smiled and Reina turned to the guard.

“I look forward to that day, officer. Don’t you?” Reina asked as she slowly carried her flower up the slight incline of the marketplace street. The guard’s expression changed to that of someone caught stealing something of little value, then he glanced down at his right boot.

Kenesh dared not move. He had almost become the shadow that concealed him. He could hear the tapping sound of the Vicereine’s staff and the sound of her robes dragging on the stony ground as she slowly passed an empty flax cart a few blocks east of the marketplace. A massive smooth-bladed knife dripped with lethal poison at his side. The streets of the east square were dimly lit, and the flat aroma of a cooling potter’s kiln hung damply in the air of the narrow alley Reina approached.

Reina slowly came into view and Kenesh took immediate note of the twin iron chains around her waist. They were the rare and unique badge of station of the scribe arcanists, and if Kenesh could make off with them…

“Donation for the food, er, for the poor, my lady?” a small wiry man stammered, rattling a cup with one hand and pretending not to be able to see as he wandered across the Vicereine’s path. Reina stopped and inhaled as she prepared a reply, then her instincts shouted “danger.”

Kenesh Drun struck with both speed and savagery. He reached around Reina’s head with his right hand, and his heavy metal claw raked across the Vicereine’s cowl. It was an attack meant to blind his victim and expose them to his blade. But Reina did not turn, nor did she appear affected by the slashing of four razor sharp hooks across her face. Having no time to change strategies, Kenesh drove his knife into Reina’s back. He failed to notice the subtle change in the consistency of her robes until a grotesque snapping sound jarred his single-minded focus. A screaming lightning bolt of pain shot up his left arm as he lost his balance, stumbling to his left. The two pieces of his poisoned knife clattered to the ground as he fell.

Nako howled his best attempt at a battle cry and attacked frontally, holding his much smaller knife over his head, blade down. Reina reached out with her off-hand and caught Nako’s arm at the wrist as he drove his knife down towards her chest. Reina turned slightly to one side and twisted her grip. The turn pulled Nako off balance and very nearly broke both bones in his wrist. His knife fell out of his hand as Reina threw him to one side. Nako crashed face-first into the far brick wall, knocking crates to the ground and scattering the tin plates stacked on them.

By now Kenesh was back on his feet. He hesitated for a moment in alarm, realizing the darkness splashed across his left hand was not blood, but his poison. Before he had even a moment to be grateful for the protection of his gloves, Reina turned. Her entire body seemed to radiate an immensely powerful energy even as it absorbed what little light remained in the alley. Kenesh felt the blood in his spine turn to ice as the Vicereine’s narrow eyes became visible from under her cowl, slowly brightening to the enraged color of glowing blood.

She began to speak, but her words seemed to be alternately miles away and right next to Kenesh’s ears. Her many voices formed an ocean of shadows beneath them and the alleyway began to warp and shift around the darkening figure he faced.

Whispers from another place reached into his mind. They spoke of cold and friendless places, where pain flowed across the ground like a spiderweb of tiny rivers. They pried into his consciousness muttering foulness he could have scarcely imagined in his most craven avarice. Kenesh felt his throat tighten and he scrambled to escape, but his body refused to obey his one overwhelmed attempt at a rational thought.

Hidden corners of his being began to drip with shadow, and slowly began to strangle the light from his vision. He had to get away.

A high pitched night-piercing screech tore through the air as Kenesh ran over the gate bridge towards the swamp. Something horrid pursued him. He could run all the way to the edge of the swamps, but he knew he would never get away. Never. Yet still he ran, even as his hair turned white and fell from his head, taking the skin off his skull with it. He put his hands up to his face and screamed forever.

Nako wheezed and reached up with both hands to pull at Reina’s grip as she lifted him off the ground by the throat. His face bulged in pain as Reina held her twisted staff to one side and spoke words of such power that each syllable threatened to weaken the stonework of the nearby buildings. Nako’s skin began to darken and still the Vicereine tightened her grip. Her voice lowered to a whisper as Nako’s eyes fell back into his head and his hands fell limply to his sides.

Reina contemptuously threw the rotting skeletal remains of the defeated assassin against the wall, shattering the brittle bones into dozens of pieces, each of which continued to decay as she turned back to Kenesh, whose ghostly face remained frozen as the screams continued to echo through his rapidly deteriorating mind.

She took a step forward and stopped. Kenesh seemed to notice suddenly and scrabbled backwards. He was unarmed and there was nowhere to run. Reina picked up the broken blade of Kenesh’s knife from the stony floor of the alleyway, then continued approaching him as she examined it. Kenesh pushed back, his shoulders scraping the brick wall as he got to his feet. Reina stopped inches away, her hands covered in the poison from the blade. Her slender hands seemed to heal themselves just as quickly as the poison ate through the skin of her bluish fingers.

Kenesh knew better than to say a word. Reina leaned close and spoke evenly through gritted teeth. Kenesh held his breath, looking down at the shadow obscuring all but her chin.

“I was inventing poisons four hundred years before your grandfather learned to walk,” Reina spat the last word contemptuously as she turned away, dropping the useless piece of the knife on the ground.

“Do you know what it feels like to have a part of your body die while still attached to living flesh?” the Vicereine asked, stopping in the center of the alley.

Suddenly Kenesh felt as if every nerve was being drained through the sole of his left boot. He collapsed instantly as a cold, burrowing agony pierced the entire left side of his body. He looked down, eyes wide, and wailed until he nearly felt the inside of his throat burst. What was left of his left foot was nothing more than a putrified weight attached to a limb so infected that the very thought of moving it made his nerves boil over with pain. The Vicereine waited patiently for Kenesh’s howling to subside.

“Now you know.”

Kenesh panted as he failed to regain his balance. He leaned against the brick wall, a cruel cold sweat tormenting his parched tongue with a salty tang.

“Who sent you?” Reina asked. Kenesh did not answer. He could scarcely breathe.

“Answer me, or the agony that is now infecting every limb of your being will see two harvests before death releases you from it.” The Vicereine stood resolute, still seeming to dim the nearby lights with her mere presence. Kenesh stirred, preparing to draw a breath with which he might have managed a cough.

“The Merchants Guild?” Reina answered for him. “What plan did you hatch with those overfed hyenas? Did you expect to waylay me with your robber’s club like some baker of bread, and have me leaning against the alley semi-conscious while you fumble with your shriekbat venom and help yourself to my coinpurse?” Reina looked up at a nearby streetlamp. “Pity. I was in a fine mood before all this, too. I had a nice meal this evening. They served me cornbread.” She glanced back to Kenesh. “I like cornbread, don’t you?”

Kenesh sputtered and inhaled reflexively. Reina waited for a moment, then asked.

“Do you wish to be free of this curse?”

Kenesh attempted to nod his head, but instead his shoulders convulsed. His breathing was becoming slightly stronger.

“You will return to whichever of those fattened vermin sent you and inform them that the Vicereine sends her regards.” Reina lowered her voice to a menacing tone. “You will also inform them the blood of the next assassin sent after me will be used to dye my boots.” Reina turned to leave.

“You have one hour,” she said.

Kenesh’s next cough rattled alarmingly and with immense effort he slowly sat up and rasped a response.

“But it is two days ride.” Kenesh coughed the last words.

Reina stopped and slowly crouched to the alley floor to retrieve her light-colored lily. Then she continued along her original route.

“You have one hour.”

LadyStar™ Call of the Huntress is Copyright © 2007 Heavy Cat Multimedia Ltd. All Rights Reserved
Read Part One
Read Part Two

“You’re a fool. Gold monarchs are the coin of the Branven Merchants.” The small, wiry man twitched annoyingly as he dealt the next hand. “No man is desperate enough to face that problem.”

“You’re a bigger fool if you think I’m going to fall for card tricks after only two flagons,” Kenesh replied, throwing his cards down on the table. “We play corners to edges or I’ll take my business to Yicho. At least in the swamps I can get in a spot of fishing.” Nako shook his head as he shuffled the greasy cards. His face continued to twitch. Kenesh picked up a properly dealt hand and frowned at what he saw.

“What’s your plan?” the dealer chuckled as he opened a cheap bottle. “Wait in a dark alley for a scribe arcanist? She is called Vicereine as far north as Kulnas.” Kenesh became more and more agitated. “There are none in Aventar who even lived when such title was last granted!” The dealer almost shouted. Kenesh slammed his cards down on the table.

“This is my notched blade, Nako. One opportunity to make a career.” Kenesh hissed. “And a fortune to encrust it in jewels.”

“If you see five gold monarchs I’ll sell you the palace for them,” Nako replied. Then he shook his head. “More likely you’ll end up worse than dead.”

“Find me something foul that will finish the job quickly then,” Kenesh reclined. “Perhaps there will be a reward for you as well.”

Nako’s twitching only intensified. He sniffled and itched his right ear, then shook his head as he stood up.

“Going to get us both turned into wretched things that haunt the night,” he muttered, walking past a bloodstained curtain into a darkened alcove. Kenesh picked up Nako’s cards and saw he was still cheating, but had only changed techniques.

“Perhaps I’ll remove a few of your fingers so you’ll not pollute the world with any more of these infernal card tricks of yours!” Kenesh shouted into the back. A dusty wind caused the stained tarp at the front door of the small shack to twist and flap as flakes of dried grime littered the mutilated mat underneath it.

“Since I expect what’s in this bottle to kill you and your horse before you reach the marketplace, I’ll take my payment in advance,” Nako said, as he placed a bright metallic bottle in front of Kenesh and backed away.

“What is it?” Kenesh asked.

“It’s a contact poison made from the eye fluids of shriekbats. Oil your gloves and for the sake of all the swampwater in Gacenar, don’t get any on you,” Nako replied. “You’ll be dead before you feel it.”

“Weapons?” Kenesh squinted his pale eye.

“It will stick to any blade for months,” Nako replied. “You’ll have to burn it off, and don’t stand by the fire either.”

Kenesh picked up the bottle and hefted it. The fluid was much heavier than water, and seemed to be very thick. Kenesh felt it move very slowly from one side of the bottle to the other. It was a disorienting feeling. He put the bottle back down.

“Want to double your payment?” Kenesh asked, looking sideways at Nako, who licked his lips and twitched in response.

To be continued . . .

LadyStar™ Call of the Huntress is Copyright © 2007 Heavy Cat Multimedia Ltd. All Rights Reserved

LadyStar™ Call of the Huntress is Copyright © 2007 Heavy Cat Multimedia Ltd. All Rights Reserved
Read Part One

“Madam, are there any limits to your complaints?”

“That depends,” Reina replied. “Are there any limits to your prices?” The Vicereine’s expression was harsh and unyielding. She brandished a single pear in her right hand. “For the cost of this pear, I could outfit a cotillion in finery to shame an avaricious man and have enough left over to stock my cabinets with ofolesk tea to last until the festival.”

The merchant snorted through his overgrown moustache and beard.

“From where do you think these coins spring?” Reina asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She looked up from the versk purse she held with her opposite hand as it dangled from her iron waistchains. Her cowl concealed most of a beautiful face, but failed to conceal the gloomy color of her skin.

“From where do you think this fruit springs?” the merchant countered. “I have labored day and night to bring…”

“From the looks of you I’d have guessed you would need an hour’s nap after the walk from the road to the orchards,” Reina interrupted, tightening her grip on the tall, gnarled staff she rested against. The merchant frowned.

“I’ll see your coins, madam, and your mangy fowl in a…”

“Take care your next words, proprietor,” Reina interrupted again and boldly stepped closer to the merchant. She thumped the headpiece of her staff, a jawless skull, against his chest twice.

“I speak while others simply live with the pain the likes of you inflict upon them each time they venture out their hovels for a scrap of food.” Even concealed by her cowl, the merchant could see the Vicereine’s visage darken slightly.

“Count yourself fortunate I have chosen to continue this conversation rather than consider alternative responses to your. . . discourteous service,” she said slowly.

The merchant swallowed and leaned back slightly. The Vicereine was not a tall woman, but hers was still an alarming presence for anyone who occupied the marketplace in Prince Branven Square. Her dark and dusty robes rasped against the wooden floor as she slowly made her way back to the pear barrel and carefully replaced the piece of fruit. Gold and silver rings gleamed on all four fingers of her left hand.

“Nothing for me today,” she said wistfully. The tiny black owl that sat on her shoulder ruffled its feathers as Reina turned to leave. The twin cast iron chains around her waist made a dull metallic sound as she reached the porch of the small storefront, marking every other step with the soft tap of her staff against the floor.

“Perhaps I will consider a sale!” the merchant offered hastily, regretting the words the moment he spoke them. He craned his neck. Greedily and silently he waited, beckoning a cordial response from the robed woman. His knuckles where white and trembled slightly as he gripped a shake broom with both hands.

“The next mother that passes this way shall have a silver monarch’s ration with your compliments,” Reina said evenly, turning her head slightly in the direction of the large merchant. She spoke her next words very slowly.

“And tomorrow shall be a fine day.”

The merchant’s pupils dilated, and he stumbled back, dimly recognizing the words of a curse. Reina slowly climbed down the wooden steps of the porch. The merchant dove behind his scales and counter, fumbling with small pieces of wood, trying to find a generous combination of numbers to display over his bucket of pears.

“A fine day indeed,” Reina said as she fed a piece of dried plum to her owl. She hesitated a moment in the bright sun of midday, then turned towards the spice shop. Even the guards kept a healthy distance as she made her way up the street.

To be continued . . .

LadyStar™ Call of the Huntress is Copyright © 2007 Heavy Cat Multimedia Ltd. All Rights Reserved

LadyStar™ Call of the Huntress is Copyright © 2007 Heavy Cat Multimedia Ltd. All Rights Reserved

The hollow sound of a fist against rotted wood caused a small flight of sickly birds to scatter from the dead branches of a nearby tree. Unlike many of the others who hurried through the darker sections of Escator, the unarmed man wore no cloak and no cowl, but the right half of his face was covered with a thick dark gray cloth wrapped much like a bandage. A small portal in the door opened, revealing an unpleasant expression.

“I have an appointment,” the man said.

“This is not a hospital,” the gaunt-faced doorman replied. The man simply waited. Realizing his challenge had been unsuccessful, the doorman snapped the portal shut and opened the door.

“Who are you here to see?” the doorman asked impatiently as the man walked inside, causing the doorman’s candle to flicker as he strode past.

“The doctor,” the man replied, turning to face the doorman squarely. Even in the candlelight, the doorman could see the grotesque texture of the man’s face only partially concealed by the gray cloth. He had obviously been horribly burned. The doorman glanced up and winced. The man seemed to be completely unable to focus his remaining eye.

“We have no medicine for your affliction, sir,” the doorman’s voice sounded noticeably tense.

“And I have asked for none,” the man replied. “Please inform the doctor of my arrival.” The doorman turned his head slightly to one side with an expression of distrust, then began walking towards the parlor. He glanced down, noticing the hilt of a very expensive looking dagger sheathed along the man’s boot, but decided to favor self-preservation over heroics.

A minute later, the man stood with his back turned, appearing to be examining an obviously forged painting, but actually watching the entry in a nearby mirror. He observed the reflection of a matronly woman walk slowly into the front room from the parlor.

“Kenesh Drun,” the woman said. “Welcome to Gacenar.”

Kenesh carefully examined the woman’s reflection, then, having verified her identity, turned to face her.

“Thea, it is agreeable to see you once again,” Kenesh replied. Thea squinted slightly, then a rueful grin crossed her taut face. She wore a simple black gown decorated with an enormous brooch encrusted with exquisite jewelwork.

“Won’t you join us?” Thea asked, inviting Kenesh to accompany her into the parlor. Kenesh obliged, but instinctively kept a distance and followed one step behind Thea’s pace. The distinguished-looking woman walked with a steady purpose. Her gray and white hair was pulled up by a circlet of pearls around a sharp coil at the top. In her hands she carried a pair of spectacles.

Kenesh took immediate account of the dining room as they entered. Three exits. Four people. One at the entry. He concluded those at the table would present no challenge. Both were dressed as merchants. Drunk merchants with poor taste, Kenesh mused. To most people the woman at the entry would have appeared to be nothing more than an overdressed merchant from the same guild as the others. She faked a sip of her drink as Kenesh passed and he noticed her posture shift subtly to favor her right shoulder. Her being armed complicated matters slightly.

But only slightly.

“May I present Kenesh Drun,” Thea said non-chalantly, taking her seat at the head of the table opposite the entry. Once situated, she placed the spectacles on the table next to her place setting and looked up.

“Please,” Thea said, indicating an open place at the table for Kenesh.

“I’ll stand,” Kenesh replied.

“Please take a seat,” Thea said, her expression hardening slightly, but noticeably. Kenesh hesitated, glancing down and to his left to indicate the woman by the entry. Finally he pulled a chair from one side of the table and sat down slowly, every muscle in his body tense enough to split firewood. Thea noticed he had chosen a vantage point near two exits from which he could observe all four other people in the room. Nothing in her expression betrayed how impressed she already was with his progress.

“You are known as the Scaled One,” one of the men at the table offered after a few moments of silence. Kenesh did not reply.

“An appropriate nomenclature,” Thea replied. “Our problem is formidable.”

“What is your knowledge of healing magic?” the merchant persisted.

“Look at me,” Kenesh replied without looking. The merchant’s face fell slightly, and he swallowed, realizing the absurdity of the question as he looked at the glassy, off-center gaze. He nervously took a sip of his tea, managing to get the cup all the way back into the saucer before it rattled too much. Kenesh glanced at the merchant then back at Thea.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have hired a scribe?”

“We have made inquiries,” Thea replied with a slight tone of contempt. “There are no scribes with knowledge of the Vicereine’s curses. Those who didn’t flee at the very mention of her name claim her powers are beyond their understanding,” Thea replied.

Kenesh glanced across the table. Sweat glistened on the forehead of one of the merchants.

“I’ll pass,” Kenesh said. The woman at the door straightened, as if insulted. Thea smiled with some apparent effort.

“One hundred monarchs of pure gold for the Vicereine’s chains,” Thea said.

“I avoid arcanists, Thea. I live longer that way,” Kenesh said.

“Two hundred,” Thea said, her smile widening slightly. Kenesh looked at the nearest of the two merchants. Discussions of such large amounts of gold seemed to be quite uncomfortable for them, at least gold paid to someone else. Kenesh guessed Thea was playing with their chips.

“Five thousand,” Kenesh said coolly. One of the merchants sputtered while attempting to sip his tea and the cup slipped. A moment later the china shattered against the wooden floor. A glint of reflected light caught Kenesh’s eye from the narrow staircase opposite the dining room entrance. Fortunately for him, under the table a balanced blade already rested in his right hand.

The guard’s hand froze against the wall with a sickly wet thud and his weapon clattered down the last few wooden steps. He shrieked as the sharpness of the dagger blade impaling his hand registered. The guard was immobilized. Kenesh took his seat again very slowly as he carefully observed the guard’s attempts to free himself. The guard tried again to dislodge the dagger from the wall, and he howled as his failure was rewarded with a barrage of roaring pain.

“Silence,” Thea said quietly. The guard’s voice quieted instantly. Kenesh noticed the woman at the entrance had used the distraction to move a step closer to him. Time was growing short. The guard finally managed to work the dagger free of the doorjamb and he scuttled away back up the narrow staircase.

“Plus the cost of the dagger,” Kenesh added.

For the first time in the negotiations, Thea glanced away from Kenesh at the two merchants.

“Done,” she said, glancing back. The face of the sputtering merchant drained of its color and he gave up on his attempts to clean the tea from his shirt. The merchants’ defeated stares were gratifying for Kenesh, at least momentarily.

“The Vicereine Reina travels the streets of Prince Braver’s Square openly and brazenly, haggling with our guildsmen and spreading filth,” one of them finally managed. Kenesh did not acknowledge the statement.

The woman crept closer.

“The gold,” Kenesh said, watching Thea’s face carefully. She gestured slightly with her chin and Kenesh looked down. A golden monarch weighing at least four ounces rested in the cup at his place setting. Kenesh retrieved it quickly and took a moment to examine it.

“How will we know you have succeeded?” the other merchant asked. A serrated knife slid from under the woman’s sleeve and dropped into her right palm, and she twisted her fingers to grip its hilt. One more step was all she needed.

“You’ll still be alive,” Kenesh replied, tossing the coin across the table. Everyone watched it tumble through the air. One of the merchants caught it clumsily against his chest with both hands. The woman turned and drove her knife in a powerfully wicked viper-quick attack.

The back of Kenesh’s empty chair splintered slightly as the knife’s heavy blade punctured it.

Thea closed her eyes and exhaled silently, then took a sip of her tea.

To be continued…

LadyStar™ Call of the Huntress is Copyright © 2007 Heavy Cat Multimedia Ltd. All Rights Reserved

LadyStar™ Call of the Huntress is Copyright © 2006 Heavy Cat Multimedia Ltd. All Rights Reserved

A preview from Call of the Huntress, Book Three in the Ajan Warriors series.

“Behold, traveler. Many have sought to conquer the shadows of nightfall, but there is one who moves swiftest through the starlight. She is called sister by creatures great and small, and when the snow-chilled howl marks the hour of the feral hunt, even the wolfpack pauses to consider her strength.”

“She is the Starlight Huntress, unseen enemy of evil, and the with the Banner of the Night she carries honor before her into battle.”

“Here is one tale of her mighty deeds…”

Ceshia trembled at the inhuman sounds coming from the nearby campsite. She hoped she was well hidden enough they wouldn’t find her, but she was afraid for her father. She couldn’t hear him fighting any more. She couldn’t hear him at all. What if he’s hurt? she thought. What do I do? She huddled deeper into her hiding place among the thorny undergrowth of the forest near the banks of the river. She hoped the carcs would go away soon.

Not far away, four large reptilian humanoids were busy ransacking the campsite. They were powerfully built creatures, with mottled brownish green skin, black eyes and two rows of small teeth similar to a crocodile’s. They stood up to seven feet in height and had very muscular tails from three to four feet in length. Their four-fingered claw-like hands made quick work of the boxes containing the camp’s supplies.

Lying on the ground at the edge of the site next to a large empty wagon was a large man. He appeared to be in great pain, groaning as he rolled back and forth on the ground. A large infected-looking contusion and wound on his left leg was beginning to swell. His torn leggings were stained with a dark purplish substance around the wound. The carcs ignored him as they continued sifting through the camp supplies, searching for anything of value.

The largest of the four monsters wore a black sash across its shoulder, and at least attempted to “lead” what would have looked to anyone else like complete chaos. One of the carcs ripped open a large sealed container and reached inside. He pulled a hunk of cooked meat out of the container and took a bite out of it, then turned and grinned at his companions, growling in satisfaction. A second carc was busy drinking some kind of dark-colored liquid from a flask, spilling most of it in the process. The other two were busy shoving each other as they fought over which would smash open the next container.

She reached up with two fingers and brushed her hair back from the right side of her face. It was not an extraordinary gesture for a girl. In fact it should have been downright unremarkable.

That is if the gesture were not so slow it took almost ten seconds to complete.

She exhaled so slowly that her breath remained almost invisible even in the near-freezing temperature of the forest. She lifted her right hand to shoulder level and very very slowly rubbed her thumb and index finger together. She wore a versk glove on her right hand cinched at the wrist with a mirror-like obsidian link. She exhaled again and reached over her right shoulder, placing her thumb and forefinger on the fletched end of the sleek black shaft of an arrow. The muscles in her forearm and wrist tensed very slightly, then relaxed. Millimeter by millimeter, she began to draw the arrow from the quiver on her back.

Meanwhile, all four carcs had tired of opening boxes one by one and so had joined together to topple the entire stack of supplies at once. After several failed attempts, the four of them finally began pushing in the same direction and the boxes began to slide off balance. A moment after the top two boxes tumbled over, the entire stack tipped and crashed to the ground, scattering supplies, tools, cooking utensils and wood in all directions.

The girl heard the crash from the campsite and used the moment to re-estimate distance and direction as she steadily threaded her bowstring with her right hand. The arrow nocked with a very faint snap and she twisted her left hand around the grip, hefting the weight of the dangerous-looking obsidian weapon with a loose arm. She exhaled again and began to raise the bow to bring her arrow level. The six-foot height of the bow rose menacingly above the girl’s stance and very slowly began to flex as she began her pull.

The carc leader, distracted by something metallic in one of the boxes was busy throwing items in the air as he sifted through the other items. Finally he stood up straight, holding two bronze-colored cups, one in each hand. He bellowed in triumph, then laughed grotesquely at the other three, waving the cups in the air.

Had the monster in that instant turned around and peered some 75 yards in the distance, he might have seen the barbed and polished four-inch razor-sharp arrowhead just above the girl’s steady slender gloved left hand holding her bow’s grip. If he had looked more closely, he might have noticed her holding the enormous bow’s pull next to her face with her other gloved hand.

If he had looked even more closely, he would have seen his own reflection in the intense stare of her right eye.

A moment passed.

The arrow tore silently through the night…

Less than 30 seconds later, only one of the four carcs had managed to escape the camp. As it careened in a headlong panic through the marsh towards their raft beached along the river, its dull mind tried to process what it had just seen and heard. It all began with a blood-freezing battle cry that echoed all around them…

The Huntress threw her head back and sounded the attack. “CREEEEEHEEEEE!!” Every sound in the forest stopped instantly. Three carcs snapped their gazes in three different directions at the sudden sound, but only one noticed their leader was slowly falling forward. The monster hit the ground and shattered into dozens of pieces of broken stone at the exact moment the arrow in its back became obvious. The bronze-colored cups tumbled across the ground as a screaming furious whirlwind of claws and fangs descended upon the monsters from above.

One of the carcs fled immediately, drawing the animal’s attention. One lightning-fast swipe knocked the creature off balance. As the carc stumbled out of the camp, the cougar lunged, soaring fifteen feet before it brought its opponent down in a cloud of claw, tail and fang. The frenzy ended abruptly, leaving another broken, petrified monster where it had fallen. As quickly as it had appeared, the cougar disappeared into the marsh.

She ran into the camp from the southeast, confronting the two remaining carcs and carrying the huge black bow across her back. Her face was painted in wide streaks of red, black and brown, and her long, thick hair was strung in brown laces studded with what appeared to be an animal’s teeth.

The carcs hesitated when they shouldn’t have, and the girl instantly seized the advantage, moving with fantastic speed. She reached across her body with one hand and ripped what appeared to be a tattered mass of brown seaweed from around her waist just as the carcs began to react. One tried to close distance clumsily, drawing and then dropping a dagger on the ground. Distracted by its lost weapon, the creature had scarcely enough time to try and dodge sideways before the girl swung the net in one tight circle and released it.

The weapon reached for the carc’s face as if it were alive, and the girl spun away holding one line of the weapon. The monster put its hands up reflexively to try and shield its face. She yanked the line and the net tightened, instantly clamping the monster’s arm to the side of its head. The creature’s shriek was muffled and it stumbled back, tripping over the fire and falling hard against the ground. It rolled back and forth, blinded by the coarse loops of the net covering its face. Moments later, it stopped moving and its skin slowly faded to the dark gray color of stone.

The girl advanced on the remaining carc, silhouetted by the light of the fire. A gust of wind caught her hair and the remaining monster shivered in fear.

“Who are you?” it shouted in its best approximation of human language.

“Your enemy,” she replied evenly, then, still advancing, she vanished, leaving only the flames.

Scarcely ten yards from the raft and escape, the panicked fleeing carc encountered the smoldering blue eyes of a midnight cougar in a dark thicket of damp marsh growth.

The battle ended on the bank of the river.

Ceshia had believed she was so well hidden that nobody would ever find her. The sudden appearance of the older girl’s gloved hand frightened her at first, but when she saw the Warrior’s smiling face and sharp, strong gaze, her fear subsided.

“What’s your father’s name?” the Warrior of the Night asked Ceshia as they hurried back to the camp

“Bensar,” she replied as they reached the campsite. At the sight of him, she ran, collapsing to her knees next to her father. The man was still lying on the ground next to the wagon. His breathing was labored and he was no longer moving as much.

“What’s wrong with him?” Ceshia pleaded.

The Huntress picked up a large roll of heavy canvas material from the wreckage strewn around the camp as she followed the girl. She pushed his shoulders up and put the roll underneath so he could sit up. The Warrior of the Night walked around next to him and knelt down.

“Bensar? Bensar?” The Warrior of the Night tried to get the man’s attention. “I need you to listen to me,
okay?” The Huntress looked down as she pulled open a small versk satchel, took out two items, hammered one of them several times with the other until it broke into several pieces, then looked back up. Bensar trembled as he tried to keep his eyes focused. His face appeared drawn and the color was beginning to drain from his skin.

“Just concentrate on my eyes,” the Huntress said, pointing with two spread fingers at her own eyes. Bensar’s gaze finally settled on the Warrior of the Night’s red, black and brown-streaked face.

“You’ve been poisoned by carcs,” she said as she looked down, pushed her hair back over her shoulder and gathered the broken pieces together on the ground and continued hammering the small pile. “It’s a serpent venom, and it is very fast-acting. We only have a few minutes before it starts affecting your breathing.” Ceshia was already beginning to cry, despairing that anything could be done to help her father. Her eyes were pleading as she watched the Huntress work.

“Here’s what I need you to do, Bensar,” she said as she held up a small dark piece of what looked like a dead plant. Ceshia just stared at the Huntress and her plant with a confused look. The huge bow across the Warrior of the Night’s back made her look as if she were ten feet tall.

“This is a raw helico root, okay? What I need you to do is put this between your back teeth and bite down on it. Now it’s going to burn your mouth and your face around your mouth, and you’re going to want to do nothing else in the world but spit this out, but don’t. This is a very powerful anti-toxin and it will slow the poison until I can brew some tea to counteract it. Do you understand?” Bensar nodded stiffly, exhaling and inhaling as if trying to ignore great pain. He closed his eyes and opened them again, and it took a few moments for his vision to focus on the Warrior of the Night’s face again.

Bensar opened his mouth with great effort and the Warrior of the Night placed the root on his lower teeth. Bensar bit down reflexively and a light green-colored froth immediately bubbled up and began to leak from the sides of his mouth. Bensar groaned as if in pain and clenched his fists as the skin around his mouth started to darken slightly to a pale green color. The Warrior of the Night turned her attention to Bensar’s daughter.

“Your turn,” the Huntress said, then made three sharp hissing sounds that sounded like “ssrick! ssrick! ssrick!” A huge jet black cougar bounded out of the overgrowth at the north end of the camp, ran past the fire and up to where Bensar was laying, stopping next to the Night Warrior.

“What’s your name?” the Warrior of the Night asked.

“Ceshia,” the girl replied with a terrified expression. She looked back and forth apprehensively as the warrior spoke.

“Okay Ceshia, here is an empty flask. I need you to go to the river.” The Huntress stood up and inhaled sharply through her nose, then turned to face south, her long hair swaying back and forth as she looked in both directions.

“There are no animals nearby, but Kishi will go with you anyway. I’ll remain here and guard your father.” She handed the flask to the girl.

“I need you to fill this flask with current water, okay? That means you’ll have to walk out on the rocks far enough so that the water you get is moving, not stagnant like the water next to the shore, understand? I need it to brew this tea.” The Huntress nodded at Ceshia, who nodded back. The Warrior’s eyes looked so strong. Her gaze gave the girl a feeling of courage.

Ceshia held the flask with both hands and looked into the marshy undergrowth outside the glen. Somewhere far in the distance, she thought, was the river, but she’d never gone that far without her father. She took a few tentative steps away from the camp and looked back. Her father was still lying against their supplies and the Warrior of the Night stood smiling at her. Her gaze was just as strong as before.

“You’ll be fine.”

Ceshia continued into the marsh with Kishi smoothly padding along almost silently next to her. Every few steps, the big cat would look very quickly from side to side, then continue. She couldn’t even hear him breathing. After a few moments, they reached an open area in the marsh, and she could just hear the sound of the river ahead. The murky water reflected the stars in the sky, and the girl could see them sparkling through the openings in the thin fronds and leaves of the marsh plants. Finally they pushed past the last few leaves and arrived at the bank of the river.

Ceshia looked across the almost black water. She could see the trees on the opposite bank silhouetted against the grayish night sky and the light of the almost full moon. Kishi sat down and looked at the girl expectantly, his tail moving slowly back and forth. Even sitting, Kishi was taller than she was. She opened the flask and started looking for the river’s current.

Meanwhile, back in the camp, Bensar was considerably stronger than before. The color had started to return to his face and his breathing had become slower and steadier. His face around his mouth was stained a dull green and appeared to also be covered with a painful rash.

The Warrior of the Night was sitting next to the fire, busy trying to clean the inside of a kettle using a bottle of fruit juice she had found in Bensar’s supplies. It wasn’t going well, but she pressed ahead.

“Fruit juice flavored helico tea?” she muttered, glancing over at Bensar. “It’ll have to do.” Then the Warrior looked up and called out in the direction of the river. “No, no, this way. You turned the wrong way.” She heard a rustling sound and a minute later, Kishi and Ceshia emerged from the undergrowth. The girl had an astonished look on her face.

“How did you know we were there?” she asked incredulously. The Warrior of the Night smiled, turning back to her kettle.

“I knew Kishi was there,” the Huntress replied. The girl walked up to the Warrior of the Night and handed her the flask.

Kishi crashed into the Night Warrior’s shoulder with his head, rubbing one of his ears against her arm. Then he literally collapsed into a relaxed position lying on his side next to the fire. He immediately began cleaning his right paw, licking the leaves and mud off very slowly.

“We always know where the other is,” the Huntress said, watching Kishi. She turned back to the girl. “It is something only those who have run with the feral hunt can fully understand.”

“I want to understand,” Ceshia said. “I want to learn everything you know.” The Huntress smiled and leaned towards the girl, looking her squarely in the eye.

“The hunter’s way is to always be a good friend to animals. You must never be cruel or mistreat any animal, no matter how small,” the Huntress said. Ceshia listened carefully.

“You must respect animals of all kinds. Always respect wild animals and their wilderness. Never never approach a wild animal. Always take good care of your pets because they depend on you. This is our way.” The girl nodded.

“If this is your way, you are already one of us,” the Huntress said with a serious look. Ceshia nodded.

A few minutes later, the scent of helico tea permeated the camp. It had an aroma similar to burning hickory wood, but far stronger. Bensar was sitting up now and was wide awake, holding an enormous wooden mug filled with the pungent brew. His daughter sat at his side watching him slowly sip the tea, watching for any sign he was still in any danger.

“I want to thank you for your help,” Bensar spoke with some effort in a raspy voice, then coughed.

“Carcs are a constant menace near the river,” the Huntress replied, replacing her satchel and net around her waist. “Their raiding parties travel by raft. It is best not to wander after dusk.”

“My wife will be certain to remind me of that when we return home. I doubt we’ll be allowed out of the house for a while,” Bensar said, then chuckled, which caused him to cough some more. Ceshia jumped up from her place next to the fire and ran into the Night Warrior’s arms.

“Thank you for saving my daddy,” she said.

“You’re welcome, Ceshia,” the Warrior of the Night smiled. “You’re a brave girl. I’m glad to have met you and your father.” The Huntress rose to her feet and drew the huge longbow over her shoulder from her back with a heavy gloved hand.

“Farewell, Bensar and Ceshia,” the Huntress said, then turned and began to walk towards the river, carrying the bow in her hand. Just as she emerged from the shadows of the trees, the girl and her father jumped in surprise as the Warrior of the Night vanished.

Ceshia stood up and ran to the edge of the camp, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Kishi, but he also had disappeared. She looked up and saw the moon high among the stars.

“I’ll always be kind to animals,” Ceshia whispered.

“Always.”

By the Light of the Stars is part of a new series on the Magical and Mysterious World of LadyStar, where the legends of the Ajan Warriors will be retold, and their battles recounted. These stories are previews of the upcoming volumes in the Ajan Warriors Series.

LadyStar™ Call of the Huntress is Copyright © 2006 Heavy Cat Multimedia Ltd. All Rights Reserved