“Who is this?” asked Laurie aloud. “What brings a man and a dog to such a desolate spot?”
“And look at those trolls,” added Roald.
Arutha nodded. “They are armed and armoured.”
“Mountain trolls,” said Baru. “More intelligent, cunning, and fierce than their lowland cousins. Those are little more than beasts; these are terrible foemen. Murmandamus has recruited allies.”
“But this man?” said Arutha, pointing at the corpse on the ground.
Baru shrugged. “Who he is I cannot say. But what he is I may venture a guess.” He regarded the dog before him, who sat quietly, eyes closed in contentment as Baru scratched behind the ears. “This dog is like those in our villages, but greater, larger. Our dogs are descended from his breed, a breed not seen in Yabon in a century. This animal is called a Beasthound.
“Ages ago, my people lived in small, scattered villages throughout these mountains, and the hills below. We had no cities, gathering in moot twice a year. To protect our herds from predators, we bred these, the Beasthounds. His master was the Beasthunter. The dogs were bred to a size to give even a cave bear pause.” He indicated the folds of skin around the eyes. “The dog will set teeth in an opponent’s neck, these folds channelling blood away from his eyes. And he will not release that hold until the opponent’s dead, or his master commands. This spiked collar prevents a larger predator from biting it about the neck.”
Locklear looked astonished. “Larger! That thing’s near the size of a pony!”
Baru smiled at the exaggeration. “They used them to hunt wyverns.”
Locky asked, “What’s a wyvern?”
Jimmy answered. “A small, stupid dragon - only about twelve feet high.” Locky looked to the others to see if Jimmy was joking. Baru shook his head, indicating he wasn’t.
Martin said, “That man there was his master?”
“Most likely,” agreed Baru. “See the black leather armour and coif. In his pack you should find an iron mask, with leather bands for the head, so he can wear it over the coif. My father had such in his lodge, a reminder of the past handed down from our ancestors.” He glanced about and sighted something over by the fallen trolls. “There, fetch that.”
Locklear ran over and came back with a giant crossbow. He handed it over to Martin, who whistled aloud. “That’s the damnedest thing.”
“It’s half again the size of the heaviest crossbow I’ve ever seen,” remarked Roald.
Baru nodded in agreement. “It is called a Bessy Mauler. Why it is named after Bessy is not known, but it is indeed a mauler. My people used to employ a Beasthunter at every village, to protect the herds from lions, cave bears, griffins, and other predators. When the Kingdom came to Yabon, and your nobles built cities and castles, and your patrols rode out and pacified the countryside, the need for a Beasthunter lessened, then died out. The Beasthounds were also allowed to diminish in size, bred as pets and to hunt smaller game.”
Martin put down the crossbow. He examined a quarrel the man had in a hip quiver. It was steel-tipped and twice the size of a normal bolt. “This looks like it would punch a hole through a castle wall.”
Baru smiled slightly. “Not quite, but it will put a dent the size of your fist in a wyvern’s scales. It might not kill the wyvern, but it would make him think twice about raiding a herd.”
Arutha said, “But you say there are no more Beasthunters.”
Baru patted the dog on the head and stood. “Or so it was supposed. Yet there lies one.” He was silent for a long moment. “When the Kingdom came to Yabon, we were a loose association of clans, and we were divided on our treatment of your people. Some of us welcomed your ancestors, some did not. For the most part, we Hadati kept to our old ways, living in the highlands and herding our sheep and cattle. But those in the towns quickly were absorbed as your countrymen came in increasing numbers, until there was little difference between Yabon city men and those of the Kingdom. Laurie and Roald are born of such stock. So Yabon became Kingdom.
“But some resented the Kingdom, and resistance became open war. Your soldiers came in numbers, and the rebellion was quickly crushed. But there is a story, not well believed, that some chose neither to bow before the King nor fight. Rather they chose to flee, going north to new homes beyond the control of the Kingdom.”
Martin regarded the dog. “Then it may be the story is true.”
“So it seems,” said Baru. “I think I have distant kin out here somewhere.”
Arutha studied the dog for a moment. “And we find allies. These trolls were Murmandamus’s servants, certainly, and this man was their foeman.”
“And the enemy of our enemy is our ally,” said Roald.