Book 2 Ch 14: Horns and Forks

Michael healed everyone before they did anything else. He’d taken the worst damage in the initial ambush, but no one was free of cuts and bruises except for Lance, who’d managed to avoid getting hurt. Maybe he’d learned a bit of caution from their fight to seal the rift.

Marcus crouched by the corpse, going through the man who was formerly Clint’s things and sorting them to the side. He didn’t seem to have any personal effects, though perhaps he lost them in their previous confrontation. He had been holding what appeared to be some kind of explosive when he’d been killed. Marcus was touching the man’s gloves and frowning.

“These feel… odd.”

Michael looked at them, and noticed some gold lettering floating around them. He crouched closer and grabbed the bounty hunter’s cooling hand. The gloves were dark brown and well worn.

“They’re titled,” he said as the words began to coalesce around them.

Titles

Gloves of the Hunter

Grants:

Middling reaction to the arms of their wearer

Michael described them to the others.

“If they fit, I call dibs,” said Marcus as he slipped them onto his hands, flexing the leather a bit and smiling. “And would you look at that,” he said with a smile. “Anything else glowing on him?”

Michael looked the man over again focusing on divining anything he could. “Not picking up anything else titled, but…” he reached out and squeezed the longcoat between his fingers. “This is not a normal coat. There are a few spots with cuts through it, but his chestplate is more damaged than it is.”

“Let me see,” said Lance, coming closer to the corpse and looking at it. “It’s from a titled beast. Some kind of serpent I’d guess. Probably about as durable as my gloves.”

Michael looked at the man again. He was long and lean and his coat fit him near perfectly.

“Well Ollie, how do you feel about a dead man’s coat?” he asked him with a smile.

“Great, long as it keeps me alive,” he said.

Once they were done stripping the corpse they had the titled gloves, the coat, a hefty handful of coin and two daggers that seemed to have been partially forged from parts of titled beasts as well, though they had already lost a lot of their edge and had a number of chips from the fight. They dragged the corpse a short way from the road and buried it in a shallow grave, though before any dirt had fallen on it, Francesa drove a dagger through his heart for good measure. It seemed excessive, but then she’d been right the first time. Michael said a quick prayer for the man when they were done. He was a bounty hunter, not a villain or a hero, just a neutral force. Michael knew nothing about his history or reasons for doing what he was doing, but the prayer seemed right.

“Why didn’t we see more titled items in Stent?” Davi asked Lance as they walked.

“Stent controls them heavily. Most are family heirlooms that have extensive records. There are very few frontline soldiers who have access to them, much less penitents.”

“Any idea how that guy was so strong?” asked Pyotr. “He was near as fast as Bayle I think. He didn’t have any heir titles did he?”

Michael shook his head. “None that I saw, but I was only able to get a very brief glance before he rushed us the first time.”

“There are a few people like him,” said Lance as they walked. “Mercenaries, bounty hunters, those kinds of people. Their deeds are so focused on the kind of work they do that as long as they keep doing them and stay alive they keep growing. Still, he was a bit of a freak even based on what I’ve heard of.”

“I am just glad we saw the body this time,” said Francesca.

Davi chuckled.

Michael looked over at Ollie who was wearing his new coat over his boiled leather armor. It fit well. The length was good, and Clint had been wider than him by a bit so it even fit well over his armor.

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“How’s it feel?” asked Michael.

“Amazing.”

“Like you’re a joey in a pouch?”

“Fuck you… But yes. It’s the nicest jacket I’ve ever owned.”

Michael chuckled, and then stopped when he heard what sounded like a thunderclap up ahead of them.

They all flinched as a group and reached for their weapons. They were on a wide plain , but sat at the bottom of a hill so they couldn’t get a good view of what was ahead. They all very slowly made their way to the top of the hill.

Less than a mile ahead of them was a large herd of what seemed to be pure-white and pure-black horses. Most of them were milling about, but there were at least a half dozen others that were arrayed in front of each other.

They closed in a bit more and as they did they started to get a better idea of what was happening.

The horses all had horns, long and powerful like lances that extended from the center of their heads. The ones that were separate from the others were all squaring off with one another. They were striking and parrying with their horns, each searching for openings as they stabbed and struck out at one another. Silver blood poured from wounds on several of them, and there were at least a dozen members of the herd that had bled out onto the harsh earth beneath them. Michael noticed that beneath the dead unicorns, or anywhere that their blood had pooled, a number of flowers had started to bloom.