Fox Hunt; Chapter 2

The remains of the cottage sit in blackened heaps. If the cottage had contained any secrets, there was no way it'd be giving them up now. I toe what I can only assume is the remains of a chair. It slowly crumples and crumbles, a small plume of ash rising only to settle back down over my boot.

Nothing useful left of the cottage, a trail that was two days old now, and a crippled doctor who was more likely to die from his injury than he was to wake up.

I scan the blackened remains of the cottage beams. There really was hardly anything to work with.

That's why I need you, my best.

I had felt pride when Premier Constantine had told me that. Now I felt I understood the secretary's look of concern. It may have been praise, but a lot was weighing on it.

This should have been a very simple job. The easiest one could ever hope for. Come to this small town- hardly more than a village- collect anything left of the doctor's work, destroy the rest. Yet the two militiamen sent had completely botched it and had paid with their life.

The doctor's work was gone, carried off by the girl that had been in the cottage. That much had been confirmed by the doctor before he had slipped into his comma. One had gone after the girl while the other had set to work destroying the rest. It wasn't until the other had returned, finding that the girl's trial had ended at a brook in the forest, that they had realized how badly they had messed up. The girl was in the wind with the doctor's work. The doctor was the only person capable of recreating that work or telling us where she was headed and by then, he had nearly been dead. Now he was in a coma, and I'd get nothing from him. Or this cottage.

I'm scowling as I head to the edge of what had once been the cottage. There was nothing to work with. Premier Constantine was asking for a miracle. He couldn't fault me for not finding anything, but failure still wasn't an option. I couldn't disappoint him. I had to find something.

Start with what you do have. Work with that and go from there. You can't work with what you don't have so don't waste any time dwelling on it.

That had been the first lesson my father had taught me as a boy, hoping to turn me into a military prodigy. I had learned to work with what I had, no matter how little. It had served me well, allowed me to learn to adapt quickly and think on my feet. It's what had helped me become the best.

Now beyond the cottage's remains, I turn to survey its ashes and the surrounding area. The girl was the target. What did I have on her?

The scowl returns. I'd have the girl if those militiamen hadn't been so stupid.

Letting her leave the room. Letting her out of sight. How could they have been so stupid?

Because she and the doctor had played them. She had been nothing more than a girl kept on by a crippled doctor to make his life easier. A nobody who knew nothing. A simple loose end that would be quick to cut.

How wrong they had been. The doctor had prepared her for this. She had known what to do. Just how prepared had she been?

The kettle had taken five minutes to warm up. She had five minutes to grab whatever had been in the chest and run. That would have taken, what? She must have had to change as well. I probably could have done it in two or less minutes. Benefit of the doubt, she did it in two. That gave her three minutes to run, giving her at most, a four-minute head start.

The brook was about two miles from their cottage. It would have taken the militiaman about eight to ten minutes to get there. By the time he had, she had been long gone. However far she got in that four-minute head start had allowed her to stay ahead of him and get away.

Very prepared it would seem. Either the escape was rehearsed, or she had managed to remain very calm. She would have needed that four-minute head start to get away. Even then, she would have had to have long-distance and endurance training to stay ahead and slip away.

The doctor had prepared her to run. If he had prepared her for the run, how else had he prepared her? What kind of chase would this be? Not even the dogs had been able to find her trail. Not that they had a good scent to start with, but if he had prepared her for a run, he must have considered dogs would be called in if a Hunter had not already been present. She was traveling in the brook. That would eliminate any trail a dog or hunter could pick up. That's why there was no trail.

So then. North or south? Which way had she gone?

I turn back to the path leading down from the cottage. Priamos stands patiently at the end, waiting. Another of Premier Constantine's best. His militiamen, like him, hadn't been selected for the hunter program, but they were the best at what they did. Most hunters came from the men he trained, myself included. I feel another flicker of annoyance, probably the same he was feeling. His men should have been sent to deal with this.

"Anything?" He asks calmly as I stop beside him.

I turn to take one last look back at the forest. She would have had to stop eventually. To catch her breath, sleep, or both. How far had she gotten before then? She couldn't sleep in the river. It was a long shot, but it would be better than doing nothing. "Make two teams. Send one north and one south. Have them stick to the river. I want to hear of any sign she went either way, no matter how small."

He looks over to his second, sending him off to comply with my orders with a nod. His eyes settle back on me. "Which team will you be going with?"

"Neither. The chances of any trail still remaining are slim. It will probably be an exercise in futility, but I'd rather report I looked and found nothing." I begin down the dirt path back towards the cluster of buildings that marked the town. How could they call something so small a town? Priamos falls into step beside me. "I plan to do some hunting in town. What's the official story?"

"Officially, we had nothing to do with the fire, the doctor's condition, or the girl's disappearance. As far as the town is concerned the militiamen responsible were imposters. Spies from one of our neighbors."

"Sorchal?"

A shrug. "If you want to go with the rumors. Where do you want to start?"

"Have there been any inquires on the part of concerned locals?"

"Just a few concerned locals," he begins, slipping into the role of the peacekeeping protector he had been sent here to be, voice taking a soft tone, "Asking after Doctor Smith’s conditions and if Sylvaine has been found yet."

Sylvaine. I turn the name over in my mind. So that was her name. "And the response?"

"For the time being," his gruff, no-nonsense, commander voice is back, "None of their concern. Diplomatically, of course."

I nod. "And her family hasn't pressed for more?"

"The militiamen responsible for this debacle reported that the good ol' doc said she was just the help." Help for a crippled old man. Believable enough, but it still didn't excuse their failure. "If she has any family, they don't seem to care."

I'm inclined to agree with him. In a town this small, family was everything. They should have been a nuisance by now. "Put out a request for information on Sylvaine. Don't make it look like we're hunting her, but we need to draw in the people that actually knew her. I want information, not her life story."

We've reached the edge of the town. The militiamen on guard to keep the townsfolk from wandering up the path to the doctor's cottage salute Priamos as we pass.

"I'll see it done," he says evenly. So evenly, I almost don't catch it: a hint of pride in his voice.

My eyes narrow as I look at him. As if sensing my gaze, he looks over at me, giving me the faintest smile and a nod of approval.

"Of all the hunters to come from my men, you've proven yourself most exceptionally. Command suits you well, Adrastus." His attention turns back to the path before us, face returned to its normal stoicism. "Premier Constantine would have been mistaken not to send you."

I can feel the satisfaction curling at the back of my mind. Priamos was a hard leader and never gave praise lightly. The thought that both he and Premier Constantine thought I was capable of turning this disaster around was comforting, but also only highlighted the enormity of what I'd been asked to do. "I'll do my best not to disappoint."