Chapter 1

it was a cool, calm night. the deer was browsing on the crisp blades of grass. something rustled in the bushes, and the deer's head shot up, alert for any threat. then his large ears detected that there was a slight breeze. could that be all it was? yes....it must have been the wind.... those were the last thoughts of the deer before a sharp pain entered his chest, quickly replaced by nothing.

the huntsman stood, his dull grey-green cloak causing him to seemingly melt into the not-quite-black background of the forrest surrounding him. black would have been too dark against such landscapes, and therefore easier to make out a sillouette against the lighter green of the foliage. the huntsman was the only one who knew of this, and was therefore more successful at night-hunting than other yeomen. the huntsman expertly skinned and cleaned the great beast, getting rid of the offal so neatly and precisely, almost no trace remained that anything---or anyone---was there at all. it would do no good for the local Baron to discover that he had a poacher in his feif.

which was the purpose of another feature of his apparel: it wasn't a solid color---instead, it was a collection of irregular gray and green patches that made it almost impossible for human eyes to discern him moving in the darkness. almost. unbeknownst to the huntsman, he wasn't the only stalker in the night.

.....

"How long has Farlan been poaching my my deer!?" asked Baron Gregory, anger rising in his baratone voice.

"about four seasons, my lord," replied the farmer, "but he's pretty hard to track. Farlan knows what he's doing, and he does it well."

"I didn't call you here to complement him! I want him hanged!" Gregory was just about to send a search party when a messenger burst in the door.

"my lord, Farlan has been captured!"

"at last," Gregory exclaimed. "seems my men were one step ahead of me."

"uh, not quite, my lord. I simply said he was captured, not who captured him. but it seems to be the king's guard."

" the king's guard? what does the king want with a lowly huntsman?"

"I cannot say lord. all I know is that they plan on returning to Castle Araluen by tomorrow."

Baron Gregory fumed at the news. "go," he said to the messenger, "find Longman. tell him I have a job for him..."

" of course, my lord," said the messenger.