The babble of the town was uncomfortably close to home. Kerrigan meandered through the crowds, avoiding the eyes of weary fisherman and merchants. She had her right hand clenched out of an instinctual sense of security, even though her mark remained hidden out of use.

“Aye, they boarded her on one of their own, in this black, oily cage. I saw her – no, I did! Longest tail I’ve ever seen.”

“Good, I hope they burn the thing alive. Spawn of the devil!”

“For such a devil, though… sure had a pretty face.”

“Benedict!”

“You mean the ships in North Harbour?”

“Aye, great big military vessels. They steered her round the planks and out of sight.”

Kerrigan felt their words scatter and collide in her skull as she tried to make sense of it all. Meanwhile their conversations continued, or died away, or changed subject. She raised her eyes to peer through the passing carts and bobbing heads, her nostrils alive with the aroma of fresh fish and spices, and saw that further north, at the low cliffs overhanging the ocean, was a structure of wood held up from the sea by tall sturdy beams. The planks, forming a man-made track, curved around the outer-side of the valley and disappeared out of sight. But there was no missing the giant back-end of one of the Empire’s ships, moored in what she guessed to be North Harbour.

From the talk all around her, the Empire was still a reasonably unfamiliar presence in Ark Leya. They had asserted their authority, as well as their aid to the people through their overflowing coffers and the available jobs their ideals produced, but their presence for most was a bitter pill to swallow. Even in Par Voyeou, the land that bred the Empire, it had taken years to grow accustomed to the great shifting tides of this military-led Kingdom, as the King’s men swept through towns and cities, making themselves known.

Six months had passed for the newly occupied Ark Leyan south, but the north, with its thick forests and precarious mountain ranges, remained under the rule of three separate tribe-like kingdoms. The land in between those kingdoms, forsaken due to their perilous environments, remained free of rule; the intended new home for Kerrigan and Po to settle down in exile. Northern Ark Leya arguably resembled the clans of Fordraigen, a large country to the south, untouched by and independent from the Empire, and even with its dangerous terrain it would offer them refuge away from the Hunt. But now that was yet again only a dream.

Kerrigan spotted the military headquarters some meters above the planks, nestled against pine trees and a large white tent. The largest building donned the emblem of the Empire above its heavy oak doors; a shield blazoned by four skyward-facing swords, one for each Knightly Title: Vesper – the evening and night Huntsmen dedicated to the demise or capture of non-humans. Oriens – the largest and most common type of Knight, their work was split between muscle and defence for and against humans, such as guardsmen and law enforcers, but they were also responsible for daytime responses to non-human related events, incidents or whereabouts, as well as back-up to such instances for Vespers. Lastly, there was Kingsmen – the King’s personal troop, and the Elite – made up of the Knight Commanders, the most highly trained and experienced Knights. Or, to Kerrigan, the deadliest killers by both command and sword. It sent a shiver down her spine to think she sought such a person. In the middle of the emblem there was a jewelled crown, resembling the King and the Capital.

As she made her way from the harbour to the town, Kerrigan mulled over an important detail: word of the missing Vesper would remain with the Huntsmen, away from public knowledge - everybody here was in awe of Circe, or ill at ease. The Huntsmen had no doubt returned with Circe and disappeared straight into North Harbour. The planks looked to be guarded well, so there was no chance in taking a direct route. The headquarters, however – if it was anything like in Par Voyeou – permitted the everyman to enter if accompanied by a guardsmen who was overseeing their business. There they could dispute theft, assault, the drunk and disorderly, and detain people in cells. If it was a deed such as murder or worse, the Knight Commander would be notified and their judgement often sounded something like capital punishment.

So, if we want in…

We’ve got to shake up a little bit of chaos.

Kerrigan was surrounded by options; food stalls, merchants, inns, workers. Everything was ripe for rattling. All she needed to do was turn enough heads and draw in the eye of a guard, and she’ll be dragged up to their little Knight village in no time.

But once we’re there, what then?

That’s a problem to solve later. We need a ticket in first.

END OF CHAPTER ONE.