Wicked Hunt

Chapter One, Part I

Rafe: The Gilded Rite

In Verlic, murder was inconsequential. It certainly wasn't only reserved for lonely orphans starving on the streets or the wronged whores seeking vengeance against a violent client. Sometimes good, decent men killed. Sometimes highborn ladies did. Murder was a form of survival, a form of showing strength and dominance. Those who killed were formidable. Those who killed survived.

It was why, at dusk, on the last day of training, the Commander Rafe Walsh slipped outside of Cascade Castle's gate with the seventeen new recruits behind him. The young men had one last task to complete before being accepted into the king's elite Watch, a traveling army that roved the island, keeping rebellions at bay and dispensing the king's justice. For nearly a year, hopeful young men came into the Commander's service, training to be allowed entry. Almost a hundred had come. Now, only seven remained, and they were hurtling toward the last stage of training. The king called it the Gilded Rite. For some it would be the most difficult. For others, the easiest.

It would only take one night to separate the men from the boys. Rafe would take them to Red Cliff and they would stay there until morning. It wasn't far from the castle, and they would be back in time to assimilate within the crowds when the king held court. After, Rafe would make them swear the oaths and give them their official cloaks and pins.

Still to this day, Rafe did not fully understand his feelings for the Gilded Rite. It was a complex, twisted thing that was unexplainable. So, as what happened with most things, he did not understand nor did he wish to take the time to understand, his thoughts on the Rite were pushed deeper into the folds of his mind, covered with other things. He did not have time to analyze, nor did he care to. There was no point on deciding whether he agreed with it or not. The king demanded the ritual be completed, and so Rafe was obliged to obey. Anything else was insignificant. He swore an oath when he joined the Watch to carry out all orders the king commanded. Easy. Simple. Duty. Black and White.

His horse darted up the cliff face, the others scrambling to keep up behind him. Rafe steered the reins of Lightly to the left, avoiding a gaping pit of crumbled rocks that had buckled under the weight of the mountain. Red Cliff rose up toward the sky, a dark encrusted monster. It was the tallest point in all of Verlic, maybe even all of the Trinities. Its shadow stretching far across the land and vanishing behind a steep embankment forcing him to squint to see.

A deep silence settled around the travelers as they carefully made their way up the mountain side. It dug into Rafe's bones, making his shoulders ache. He shifted them around but failed to get comfortable. There was a tinge of magic in the air. He could taste the coppery tang on his tongue. It burned his nostrils and made Lightly shake her head in mistrust. The mare let out a wary nay and paused on a pile of cracked rocks. Rafe let her rest a moment, but then he shook the reins and she continued upward.

Up. Up. They climbed.

It got steeper before fanning out near the top to reveal a narrow tunnel carved into the cliff face. Rafe could hear the recruits behind him mumbling their unease. He supposed he couldn't blame them. When presented with the option of descending into a dark hole in the side of a mountain or not, he doubted many would choose the first option if this was all just on a whim, but this was a decision that would change their lives. This one small act would define them. These young men had an important choice. Right now. They could duck down into the tunnel and be given the chance to become members of the most elite solders in Verlic, or they could turn back and live out the rest of their days in shame.

Rafe gingerly got down from Lightly's saddle. The wind tore at his dark hair and flung his cape upward as he strode to the crude hitching post. Bending down, he secured the rope and straightened back up. Patiently, he waited for the recruits to do the same. He studied their oblivious movements. They were all jerky, each one fumbling about. The bravado they'd worn back at the castle was gone. Now, they were just boys, trying to decide if they wanted to play at being men.

The first to tie off was a young man named Redwyn. His frame was lanky and stick like, his limbs awkward extensions. He had curling blonde hair that flicked up at the nape of his neck. He often would reach up and twist one of the loose strands around his finger when he was anxious. The lad did that now as he moved to stand beside Rafe. His light blue eyes met the Commander's but then quickly darted away. Rafe wasn't entirely surprised. Not many men looked him directly in the eyes these days.

"Sir?" Redwyn asked. His voice surprised Rafe. In the year since he'd been under his command, the boy's voice had never sounded so soft. The Commander inclined his head.

"You're allowed to turn back," he informed Redwyn. "Live out your days as a disgraced farmer or merchant. You can go back down, as long as you decide before we enter the tunnel." Rafe wanted to impress upon him the importance of this decision, the way it would completely change the boy. Forever. Redwyn swallowed and scanned the horizon beyond the cliffs.

"No," he said as he blinked. "I can't go back."

Rafe turned away from him. "So be it then."

He moved toward the dark tunnel, and the recruits shuffled up behind him. Taking a deep breath, he plunged into the darkness. Rafe slowly inched into the cave, made sure all the recruits were just inside. He cleared his throat.

"The Gilded Rite is the final test on your journey to becoming a member of the King's Watch," Rafe recited the words he said every year to the new men. "If you manage, tomorrow you will ride back to the castle with me, where you will receive your helmet." He waited for the heavy silence to settle on their shoulders like a worn cloak. "Fail and the only place you will be going is the afterlife." They needed to understand the gravity of the ritual, know the importance of what it meant.

"Now," he said sternly, "follow me." Rafe ducked further into the cave and was met with blackness. He carefully walked into the dark until a coolness crept into the corridor from the far wall. The Commander stopped abruptly. Some men ran into his back, but he ignored them. Rafe cocked his head to the side, listening.

"Sir?" someone whispered anxiously over his shoulder. The Commander ignored him. He waited.

He did not have to wait long.