We reconvened on the outskirts of the village, then set out for the lakeshore to the west of Apegut Forest.
Nishka the Scalesplitter, who knew the forest like the back of her hand, took up the lead position. Wak’wakgoro was behind her, scrupulously watching the path and the trees to make sure we didn’t overlook anything on the journey. Next came me, Cassandra, and then Elpaco. Hunk Hollywood Camulla watched our rear.
I once worked at the customer service center for a particularly sleazy mail order company that specialized in adult products. My job was pretty simple: I answered the phone calls that came in, all while sticking to the script. But the job involved single-handedly shouldering customer complaints, so it started gnawing at you after a while.
The big boss man, who was a full-time employee, would invite us out for some outdoor activities to try and let off steam. Mostly, he held barbeques.
There’s no predicting what a person will get up to after they leave the Self-Defense Forces. This boss—this sex-toy slinging call center manager—who took us to barbeques at riversides and campsites was also a pro-level survivalist. He taught us how to prepare a site and set up efficiently.
Let me tell you, grilling up some tasty meat and enjoying the fruits of our labor in the great outdoors was the absolute best stress relief.
For the record, this boss had made it through Ranger training and been in a Ranger troop. I swear he could walk through the forest without making a sound. Once, when I asked him how he could do all that ninja-level stuff, he said: “If you stomp around in the woods, you’ll step on a twig and make a noise, right? If you force your way through tall grass, you’ll bend it and leave yet another trace. Looking at footprints is another way to see the quirks in how something walks. Once a person gets a feel for that kind of detail, Shuta, they’re well on their way to learning the art of tactical espionage.”
He said it so casually that I was surprised. I mean, come on—who could take tiny scraps of info and deduce all of that? But as I watched, Nishka and Wak’wakgoro sought out exactly those signs as we moved toward the lakeshore.
Elpaco had worked as a hunter outside a city, and even though he was young, he knew how to do the same thing. He might not have been at the level of the two veteran hunters leading the way, but he followed behind us without making a sound.
Cassandra was also obviously used to walking around in the forest, which made sense, given she had been born in the village. She wasn’t showing any signs of fatigue, either. Still, she was using my spear as a walking stick and apparently didn’t know how to travel soundlessly or without leaving tracks.
“Do you know how to use a shortbow, Cassandra?” I asked quietly.
“My father taught me from when I was little, so I can hit rabbits and foxes. That’s about it.”
Honestly, it sounded like my wife was better at using a bow than me.
“But,” she continued, “I don’t know how to track game or set an ambush. I just know how to center on the target and pull the string…”
“That’s not bad, though. I’m still learning how to be a hunter, too, so maybe we can learn more together. And…if you want to learn martial arts, I’d be happy to teach you. Then you can pay me back by teaching me how to use a bow.”
“All right!”
Hell yes, Karate-Master Husband-Sensei was a go…and she could teach me too. I guess that’s what married couples do, huh? Lift each other up?
As I began to fantasize about such things totally unrelated to our mission, Elpaco piped up quietly from behind us, “C-could you teach me, too?”
“You mean martial arts?” I asked, and Fuzzball nodded primly.
Well, maybe it would be more fun teaching two people instead of just one. And if they learned together, they might just foster a rivalry, which could help them keep trying hard in order not to fall behind each other.
Double hell yeah. “Sure thing.”
At last, I started to recognize our surroundings. We were right around where Wak’wakgoro and I had set traps for lynxes, and also the path Nishka and I had followed to track the wyvern.
The forest opened up as we traveled, and soon enough we were almost at the lakeshore.
Nishka turned back and called, “Found ’em.”
“The minotaur tracks?”
“Yup. But that ain’t all. There’s also a spot where it looks like someone made a kill.”
That got a reaction from our GQ magazine adventurer. Camulla jogged to the front of the group and we followed close behind him. Wak’wakgoro studied the site of the kill then warily scanned the area. The rest of us were stuck staring at the spot Nishka had pointed out.
The earth was stained almost black with blood.
Nishka found traces on the ground that suggested something had been dragged through the area. She let her eyes follow the trail.
Camulla, who was as experienced as he was devastatingly sexy, examined the black dirt. His chainmail clinked as he shifted this way and that. “It looks a few days old.”
“Maybe it’s from a deer hunt. These tracks were made by a hoof. And these by shoes.”
I gulped when I heard Nishka mention shoes. Anyone wearing shoes could be trouble.
Rude as it sounds, ogres were more at about a Neolithic stage of development. They used metal weapons, but the ones they made themselves didn’t exactly boast fine craftsmanship. Whatever well-made weapons they had were probably traded for or stolen. More likely the latter.
As Camulla and Nishka conferred, Wak’wakgoro broke off his scout of the surrounding trees and returned to the group.
“Can you tell what kind of shoes we’re talking about?” I asked him.
“Boots. Look there. The print is very distinct,” Wak’wakgoro said, pointing.
The print was huge, maybe twelve inches long. Whoever had made it, they would have been gigantic even by pro wrestling standards. A total nightmare to meet in battle.
“It looks like there were three hunters.”
“You can tell that much from these prints?”
“Sure. Look at the wear pattern from the bottom of the shoes. See the differences in the marks? That’s how you can tell,” Nishka explained, as if it were beyond obvious, and ran a finger down the bridge of her nose.
Wak’wakgoro and Camulla both nodded in agreement. Obvious to everyone but me, apparently.
“So going off the number of hunters, there’s probably between seven and ten families,” Wak’wakgoro mused.
“You need a comparatively large number of people to hunt deer,” Camulla added, “so the fact that there are three hunters here means it’s a group of forty people, at least.”
My old boss could scrape together this degree of information from the barest of tracks, too.
Apparently Nishka wasn’t very interested in such calculations, though. Instead, she was focused on some pebbles lying nearby. “Found an arrowhead.”