During all of this, Loudin sensed their unease at his presence, and after the meal was done, he asked about it. It was then that Vaegon calmly, and with the political neutrality that only a non-human could muster, started the tale of the massacre at Summer’s Day.
Both Hyden and Lord Gregory added bits and pieces as it was told. They also watched Loudin closely, gauging his reaction to it all. The hunter seemed saddened, yet impartial about the events, and when Vaegon had finished, he told them of his long ago departure from the ways of the kingdoms of man in general. He was a hunter and trader now, a free man who had paid his dues, both on land, and at sea. He held no ill will toward Lord Gregory for killing the Seaward Monster during the Brawl. Nor did he seem to harbor any opinion about Willa the Witch Queen using her arrows to turn the volatile situation into an outright battle. It wasn’t his business. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of war though. War wasn’t good for the hunting trade, save for the selling of meat to the troops.
Mikahl, having never been out of Westland until now, seemed oblivious to the politics and the ramifications of what he was hearing. He was more interested in the hawkling and the elf.
Lord Gregory seemed irritated by this, and several times throughout, had over-expressed his opinion to him. Mikahl wanted only to find the giant named Borg, and deliver King Balton’s messages and the sword, as he had been instructed to do. He was wanted in the west now, most likely dead or alive, and for a healthy reward. He didn’t feel that he could afford to concern himself with wars and such. He would be a hunter, like Loudin, or maybe he could move to Valleya and raise horses, or maybe sign on to a ship and sail to the distant land of Harthgar. The possibilities were endless. He decided that he would worry about all of that when he was finished with his duty to King Balton. It was getting late, and at the moment, all he wanted to do was get a good night’s sleep.
He didn’t get his wish. The strange, dark beast haunted his dreams again. It was hunting him, and he could feel it drawing near. He could feel its hot, fetid breath on his skin, and its slimy drool as it salivated for a taste of his flesh. He woke in the night and took Ironspike from Windfoot’s saddle, and then lay back down with the sword in his arms. Only then, did the monsters leave his mind so that sleep, deep and dreamless, could take him.
The next evening, Hyden Hawk called the group to a halt. They were dangerously close to his clan’s village, and he didn’t want to bring them all into it with him. He and Loudin would go and ask the Elders’ permission to bring the kingdom folk and the elf.
Vaegon agreed to stay and make sure that the two Westlanders didn’t try to follow. Hyden only took Loudin because the old hunter had been there before. The Elders would probably be angry with the big tattoo covered man for attempting to lead Mikahl to the village, but not so angry as to not let him purchase the mountain gear and hides he was seeking. After the way the festival had ended, Hyden was sure that his people hadn’t rounded up all of the seed, tools and supplies that they had wanted to. Loudin’s coin would be needed later when Uncle Condlin, and Hyden’s father, Harrap made their annual end of summer journey down into Wildermont to stock up on things for the long mountain winter. Once upon a time, getting to make that journey with his father and uncle had been all Hyden could think about. Now, the idea of it seemed insignificant.
Loudin forced himself to leave the lizard skin behind, and go with Hyden. It was hard, but after Mikahl had assured him that he would protect it with his life, the hunter relented.