"Bane, go hunt. You know who by now." The dog put sniffer to stone and started searching for Amy's scent.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James followed after Bane and Tasha, watching as the dog diligently followed the path to the market.
As they weaved their way through the crowds, James instinctively kept his head low, taking an unassuming posture to draw less attention to himself. They passed by many different shops, and twisted through the streets, but still no sign of Amy and Ari. It seemed like they went pretty far, until they finally reached the edge of the market. Not far off, docks could be seen that lead to the nearest river. Bane was leading them up to a fishing shop, with tack and bait. It seemed fitting that Ari would take Amy to another fish-related spot, but he started to get worried when he didn't see any sign of them in the shop. A little bell above the door rang as they entered, and a man looked up from his spot behind a desk.
"May I help you?" he asked, eyes falling to the dog who'd followed them in. "Make sure she doesn't get into anything," he added.
"Bane, heel," she said, and the beast obeyed instantly. "Yes, sir. We're looking for a large man around seven feet tall. No shoes, got some scars, super muscular. He came in with a young woman. You didn't happen to see them?"
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
A look crossed the man's face that James immediately recognized as one marked with fear. The kind of look one would give if someone dropped his name or description. The kind of look that didn't want trouble. A feeling of dread stirred in his gut, and as he looked around the store, he began to scan the room for signs of a disturbance.
A shelf, items rattled. Some hooks and a display knocked to the floor. Traces of dusty footprints on the wood - dragged and sliding.
"I'm afraid you're too late," the shop owner answered. "The other bounty hunters got 'em before you did," he said.
James's blood ran cold.
"What did they look like?" he asked. "The hunters who came before us?"
"There was three of 'em," he answered. "Big gal, with her head shaved. Lots of armor. Almost as tall as that seven-foot guy. She had two companions - a dark-haired woman with a scar on her chin, and another fella with a helmet on. They all were pretty heavily armored. I didn't get names. I just let 'em do their business."
She frowned. "They're new. That, or they aren't from around here," she informed James. "Come on, we need to hurry." She spun on her heel and stalked out of the market, putting her fingers to her mouth and whistling for her horse as her mind raced to put together a plan.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
“He’s wanted in the Isles,” James spoke lowly. “They’ll be going west. They probably have him sedated with something, so I can’t see them moving too quickly. They should be heading through Hurt’s Pass, but hopefully Bane can pick up on something as well if we get moving in that direction.”
"Bane won't be able to catch a scent if they're on horseback, which they must be if they're transporting him, especially unconscious. We don't know where to start so we can't easily track them. But we do have descriptions of the bounty hunters. So, I have a plan. Let's head west and there's a little town where I have a couple contacts about a day's ride from here. Get eyes and ears out for them," she said.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Nightmare came trotting over and she swung up on the beast's back, offering James a hand up behind her before galloping full-tilt out of the town. Neither spoke as they leaned low over the equine's back, alternating between an extended trot and a lope once they hit the outskirts as they travelled west. The sun reached its zenith and then fell towards the horizon as it did with each passing day. The final rays turned the landscape a brilliant golden and the sky burned titian as Tasha and James crested the hill to the small town that Lerwick.
She slowed her steed as they descended to the worn, cobbled street and went through town, her horse's hooves clattering on the stones under a now-silver sky.
"Just stick close, please. I know you can handle yourself, and I know you're a suspicious individual, but just for once, trust me when I say it's in both our best interests for us to stick together," she said to him as they neared the only building with candlelight still in the windows.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
Her warning did not give him any comfort, but he did not argue. He did desire for greater explanation, but knew cooperation was better than indecision. At any moment, he anticipated something to go wrong. So he just nodded.
She reined in her horse and dismounted, tethering the beast. Wolfsbane came to her heel and she rested her hand on the pommel of her blade as she stepped inside the tavern with James behind her.
All heads turned towards them, and in mere seconds, the entire place was silent, staring at the monster hunter and her 'catch:' Tiberius Hemming.
"What the f*** is it you're all starin' at, huh? There ain't nothin' to see here," she said sharply, her confident demeanor and strong personality coming to the forefront. "Can't a girl change professions every once and a while without gettin' gawked at?"
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James was immediately regretting being quick to agree for once.
The moment they entered the tavern, James realized it wasn't an average one. He recognized several of the faces within, all ones who had spent their time antagonizing him, capturing him, and making his life a hellish existence. All together in one room were the people who together worked to capture people like him. People who were wanted. His heart stopped still, and the color completely drained from his face.
It wasn't just any tavern. It was a hunter's tavern.
The hair on his skin stood up as a fear-filled chill ran down his back and his eyes jumped around the room, making eye contact with people he knew as his enemies. But the one that made him cling to Tasha's side was Butch, sitting in the corned booth with a cigar sticking out of his mouth, creating a small cloud of smoke around him and the others at his table.
Then he heard an impressed whistle from the other side of the tavern. His head shot over to the bar, where he saw the familiar face of Cowell. Dark skin and thick black hair pulled back into a ponytail, clothes run ragged, but functional. Cowell let out a chuckle that triggered a few others from the tavern crowd.
"Well, congratulations on the catch!" he said cheerfully, lifting a glass. "Better keep an eye on him," he said with a wink, making eye contact with James and grinning. "Lotta desperate folk out here in the Outlands."
James formed fists at his sides and swallowed, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room burning through his skull.
The bartender then let out a hearty laugh and clucked her tongue. "Get on over here, then. Get a drink!"
As her voice carried through the tavern, chatter started to slowly build back up again, but nobody really took their eyes off of the two.
Tasha laughed and raised her hand in greeting to Cowell. "Don't you worry, someone tries to take him and they'll find their head on a pike just like that big a** werewolf in Wellspring did." It'd been one of the better-known hunts, one of those monsters that had been running rampant for a long time, a massive wer that was more feral than most. One or two hunters had gone up and not come back before Tasha had gone in to deal with the threat and come out forty-eight hours later with the creature's head on a spear and marched it right back into town as proof that the terror was dead. Citing it served two purposes: first, it confirmed her identity to anyone who had only heard rumors, and, two, it pointed out to everyone that she was no stranger to combat and she that she was a force to be reckoned with. By extension, so was James.
She went up to the barkeep and sat down, passing her a few coins. "Just the usual. Thanks."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
The barkeep nodded and turned to pour a drink. "Coming right up."
James slid into the seat beside her, feeling his shoulders tense as he sat with his back to some of the others. He ended up turning to the side, facing Tasha so he could keep most of the room in the corner of his eye. Silently, he stared down at the floor, spending all of his energy just to keep himself from running out of the room and showing his fear more plainly than he already was. He kept his face straight and emotionless, and slowly released tension as he focused on his breathing.
"Hey, you wouldn't have happened to hear about some new bounty hunters on the block or in the area? All wearing heavy armor. Very large woman with a shaved head, dark-haired one with a scar on her chin, and a man?" Tasha asked the barkeep and flashed a coin through her fingers - a bribe.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
