12 The Master's Room

The Master Hunter was awake even earlier than Atila. The bed he lay on was well furnished but not gaudy. He was not one to flaunt his wealth like some in other gatherings. He did make certain his fortress was secure and as impenetrable as possible. It was the same for his demeanor and heart.

He thought about if and when to tell Atila how he knew of her. To tell her all of why was a complication and puzzlement. She would never forgive him for kidnapping her, let alone come to terms with the reasons behind it. She would only see him as a heartless man. After all, he was a hunter. A hunter who killed not only beast but man. Did he regret that? No answer formed even from deep down within. That was something he hadn't dealt with for many years. He was numb to the questioning of himself.

After the sun rose past peach light, he rang a bell to order Atila breakfast and then one for himself. By full light he went out to the far field to train. A true hunter never stopped training. He started off with his bow and arrow. It was a favorite of his and not only did he shoot but crafted some of the best sets in the region. Not that anyone knew of course. They only knew of the markings that signified his work. Not many personally knew of him as a Master Hunter either. A chosen few heard the legend. The legend was enough.