The Black Ring: Chapter 1 (Sample)

Chapter One: The Hunter

Jensen jabbed a stick into the red-hot coals of the campfire to stir up more heat. The heat was welcome company for him and his friends; Flint, Darvan, and Gerald. After being on the move for so long, they didn’t have time to light fires at night nor did they have the thought to do so out of fear of being sighted. It made the cold nights very difficult to bear. It wasn’t until tonight in the midst of a thick forest that Darvan insisted they light a fire as this night was particularly cold. However, while Jensen thankful for the comfort the fire the brought to them, there was still a fear in the back of his mind.

“We shouldn’t have this fire.” Jensen commented to his companions.

His friends, who had been looking into fire, then looked up at him in unison. They all seemed curious and confused about Jensen’s comment about the fire. After a moment, Darvan, the smartest and cleverest one of the bunch who prided himself on being the leader of the group, finally spoke up.

“Oh? Would you rather be out in the cold?” He said sarcastically.

“Not at all, I am just worried that the fire might attract unwanted attention.” Jensen reasoned.

Darvan picked at his teeth with a toothpick. “Eh, I doubt it. We got away free and clear. Far beyond the reach of the Outriders, thanks to me of course. ” He then smiled his famous cocky smile, the one he always he used when he thought he had been particularly clever.

He was right of course. The four of them were bandits traveling across the Outlands moving from town to town robbing from villagers and merchants as they went. Each of them had a role to play in their little gang. Darvan was the leader, the brains of the operation but he was incredibly arrogant. Flint was their fighter, he was a good swordsman and scary with a knife. Gerald was the brawn of the group. He wasn’t very smart but he was a giant of a man and built like a ox. What he lacked in brains, he made for with muscle. And then there was Jensen. He was the archer of the group, he wasn’t as smart as Darvan, or skilled like Flint and he wasn’t built like Gerald but he had a sharp eye which made him a good lookout.

They had banded together hoping to make a name for themselves as bandits. As they robbed across the Outlands, they had managed to acquire a great deal of wealth. They would have been caught a long time ago if it hadn’t been for Darvan’s clever strategy of constantly keeping on the move and not settling down to spend their plunder. Darvan also made a point of not lighting campfires at night in order to avoid getting spotted by Outriders, the famed horseback patrolmen and law enforcers of the Outlands. It wasn’t until they reached the forest that Darvan felt comfortable making a fire. But Jensen still felt like there was someone after them and the fire only succeeded in increasing his fears.

“How can you be so sure that there no Outriders after us? What if they spot the fire?” Jensen asked.

“The forest here is past the border of the Outlands, far outside their jurisdiction. No one will find us now.” Darvan said.

“What if there is a Hunter after us?” Jensen suggested. Hunters was another name for a bounty hunter, they were mercenaries that specialized in hunting down wanted thieves, murderers and other criminals.

The word “Hunter” sent a feeling of unrest that swept among the four bandits like a foul wave. Hunters were greatly feared by bandits and for good reason. They didn’t stop pursuing their quarry until they were found and they were quite prominent in the Outlands since there were plenty of bandits prowling around in the area.

Darvan managed to regain his composure quickly. “There is no way a Hunter could have tracked us! We left nothing for them to follow. And if one does catch up to us, we will kill him.” He glanced assuredly at Flint and Gerald. “Right, boys?”

“If a hunter tries to mess with us, I will skewer him like a pig with my sword!” Flint said as he pulled out his broadsword and thrust it forward in a stabbing gesture.

“That’s the spirit, Flint!” Darvan praised.

“I crush Hunter’s skull with hands!” Gerald said pretending to crush an invisible skull with his giant hands.

“I like the way you think, Gerald.” Darvan chuckled at the mention of Gerald thinking. “You see, Jensen? We don’t have anything to worry about. Now relax would ya? You’re always too tense.”

Jensen couldn’t argue with that. “Yeah, I guess you are right.” He relented.

Darvan clapped his hands together. “Good, now that we got that straightened out, let’s get down to business.” He stepped away from fire towards the main part of the camp and knelt down next to a backpack that was next to where they had tied up the horses. He reached into the pack and took out a large heavy bag and brought it over to where the other three were standing. He opened the bag and pulled out a handful of shiny golden coins for each of them to see. Each coin had a symbol of an eagle with it’s wings stretched out as if preparing for flight. They were called golden eagles and they were the most valuable source of currency around.

The men marveled at the sight of the golden coins as they shimmered in the glow of the fire. Flint and Gerald almost seemed to salivate at the sight of the precious coins ready to reach out and grab them. Darvan saw the avarice in their eyes and casually pulled the coins away from their sight and put them back in the bag.

“As you know,” Darvan announced. “During our raids, we have managed to collect almost five hundred golden eagles which means we get around a hundred or more eagles each as part of our share.” He exchanged a satisfying grin with his companions even Jensen couldn’t help but smile at the bounty. A hundred gold eagles could make a man very happy.

“What are you gonna spend your share on, Darvan?” Flint asked as he began to sharpen a knife with a wet stone.

Darvan smirked. “Aw, I think I am gonna pay a local brothel a nice visit. I don’t want the ladies to be deprived for too long, you know what I mean?” He winked.

“Well, if it’s you that you are referring too, Darvan, I don’t think they been deprived of much.” Flint teased as Jensen and Gerald burst out laughing. Darvan scowled but even he chuckled after a little bit.

“What about you, Jensen?” Flint asked as he closely examined the blade of his knife.

Jensen thought for a moment. “I think I am going to buy a better bow and some extra arrows. Maybe some hunting traps for finding game.” Jensen was a practical man. He didn’t care much for non necessities.

“Sounds boring.” Flint said blankly.

“Well, what are you going to spend your share on, Flint?” Jensen asked.

“Me? I am going to eat and drink until I can’t sit up or see straight.” Flint smirked. He gave Gerald a pat on the shoulder. “And Gerald here is going to join me, right buddy?” Gerald gave an a low grunt of approval.

Darvan idly handled one of the gold coins between his fingers. “Just you wait my friends. We will be able to enjoy our fortunes soon enough.”

There was period of silence as the four bandits continued to enjoy the heat of fire. Nothing was heard but the crackling sound of the fire and the chirping of insects in the woods. Gerald let of loud yawn as he stretched his large muscular arms out. He turned away from the fire and started heading into the thick of the woods.

“Where are you going?” Darvan asked.

“Taking a piss.” Gerald groaned as he disappeared into the darkness of the woods, noisily breaking branches and snapping twigs as he walked.

Jensen, Flint and Darvan continued to lounge around the campfire in silence until suddenly they heard the faint exclamation of Gerald’s voice from the darkness then followed by  the sound of what seemed like a struggle between the large man and some unknown assailant. Alarmed, the three of them reached for their weapons. Jensen had seized his bow and immediately pulled back the string with an arrow aiming the shaft towards the darkness where Gerald had gone. Darvan and Flint took out their swords and held them out in a defensive stance.

“Gerald!” Darvan cried out. “Gerald, are you okay?!”

There was the sound of more struggling then there was nothing, only silence followed by the sounds of the night. The three bandits exchange glances of fear and concern with each other as they waited for any sight or sound of their fellow comrade. Nothing came from the darkness of the woods.

“Gerald!” Darvan cried out again in vain but there still was no response. Darvan’s face turned from concern to frustration. “Jensen!” He said.

“What?!” Jensen replied with his eyes not diverting from direction of the woods.

“Get in there and find out what happened to him!” Darvan ordered.

“Why? Who knows what is out there!” Jensen exclaimed.

“Because I told you too, now go!” Darvan said impatiently.

“But,” Jensen started but stopped when Darvan pointed the blade of his sword at him threateningly. “Fine, I will go.” He sighed as he quietly went into the dark woods where Gerald had gone.

Even in the dark it wasn’t hard to find out which direction Gerald had gone. There was crushed brush and broken branches everywhere the large man had walked and he left behind giant footprints too. Jensen moved light-footed through the path putting all his effort into making the least amount of noise as possible. He had hunted game with his bow many times so he learned to move quietly in the woods. But it was different when he was the hunter and when he could see his prey but somehow he got the feeling that this time he was the one being hunted and he couldn’t see who was hunting him.

Jensen followed the path in the woods for a couple of yards until the trail grew short by the base of large tree. He studied his surroundings carefully. His eyes had accustomed to the dark now and he could make out some things in the dark. On the ground, he saw many footprints and drag marks in the dirt and brush indicating a struggle. Not far from the base of the tree, he saw what looked the silhouette of a large man’s body on the ground. Jensen approached the man with extreme caution.

“Gerald?” Jensen whispered.

The large man did not answer but merely made a painful moan.

“Are you okay?” Jensen asked as he finally reached Gerald.

He quickly examined Gerald’s body. He was face first in the ground with his large arms slumped behind his back. His hard body had been battered and bruised. His head was somewhat bloody and there was a large lump on the back. Jensen then noticed that Gerald’s hands had been bound by rope at the wrists. Strange that whoever attacked him decided to knock him out and bind him.

“Who did this to you?” Jensen asked. Gerald answered only with another painful moan but it seemed like he was trying to say something but the blow to his head had otherwise disoriented him.

Crack!

Jensen sprang up with his bow ready. A twig had snapped somewhere in the dark not far from where he and the incapacitated Gerald were. Jensen peered out into the darkness, hoping to catch sight of anything moving. If he saw the rustle of bush or the silhouette of a man, he was confident that he could make a killing shot. But there was nothing in the black. Fearing that time was limited, he grabbed ahold of Gerald’s legs and attempted to drag the large man back to camp. He struggled and pulled but only managed to drag Gerald a few feet when he caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. He dropped his friends legs and quickly brought back up his bow, pulled it back and released an arrow into the dark woods as fast as a blink of an eye. He heard the loud thud as his arrow hit the bark of a tree and stuck. Not far from where he had shot, he saw it. It was a dark figure of a man, hunched down facing his direction. Whatever it was, it was looking at Jensen and knew he could see him. But just as Jensen whipped out another arrow from his quiver and pulled it back to fire at the dark figure, it disappeared into the black once again.

What is this thing?! Jensen screamed inside his mind.

Panic took over him and his reflexes took control of his mind and body. He sprinted as fast as he could back into the direction of the camp. He barreled through brushes, low branches and leapt over fallen logs making no effort to keep quiet. Even with all the noise he was making, he could feel the dark figure silently behind him in close pursuit. Jensen saw the  light of their camp at the end of the path. It wasn’t far now, if he could just reach the camp maybe he and his other two companions might stand a chance against this unknown enemy. He could see Darvan and Flint still standing by the light of their fire with their swords drawn ready to strike. They saw him too, their eyes curious and alarmed by the desperation in his face. He almost ran into them and had to stop himself before he fell right into the fire.

“What is it, Jensen? What happened? Where is Gerald?” Darvan asked alarmed.

Jensen had to stop and catch his breath. “Gerald was knocked out. Something….out….there….dark….fast.” His words caught between heavy breathing.

Flint and Darvan exchanged glances with each other. Flint gave a cocky grin as he held his sword out in front of his chest in an attacking stance.

“Well, I am gonna stick this thing with so many holes he will look like a pincushion!” Flint exclaimed as he charged into the dark woods. He gave a bloodthirsty scream, yelling and cursing at the air. “COME OUT YOU COWARD! FACE ME LIKE A MAN IF YOU GOT A PAIR!”

When his taunts appeared to be ineffective, he started to head back from the dark of the trees with a disappointed look on his face.

“Did you find anything?” Darvan asked.

Flint scowled. “No, the coward must have fled at the sight of me, clearly whoever it was that attacked Gerald is a no good, cowardly son of a-” Flint was suddenly thrown to the ground on his face, dropping his sword and was quickly dragged into the dark woods.

“FLINT!” both Darvan and Jensen exclaimed as leapt to their friend’s aid but to no avail. Their fellow bandit had disappeared only leaving behind the sound of screaming and struggling then suddenly silenced. Darvan made a move to head into the woods after Flint but Jensen grabbed a hold of Darvan’s shoulder.

“Wait!” Jensen suggested. “We should stay by the fire, we are safer in the light!”

Darvan looked at Jensen then looked at the fire and then back to Jensen again. Then Darvan brought his attention to the bag of coins by his feet. There was a moment where Jensen could see the wheels in the man’s head starting to turn. He was going to make a run for it with the coin and leave them behind!

“Don’t try it!” Jensen warned. He backed away from Darvan and aimed his bow at the man’s chest.

Darvan looked at him with menacing eyes. “Are you threatening me, Jensen?” He laughed. “You don’t have the nerve!”

Jensen said nothing. The two of them just stood there facing each other, sizing the other up. The both of them were waiting for the other to make a move. Jensen waited. His gaze never left Darvan’s eyes. He kept his bow aimed at him. Then the sound of twigs snapping and the movement in the woods distracted him. He looked in the direction of the sound then after realizing his mistake attempted to look back at his traitorous leader. Too late. Darvan had already made his move and charged at Jensen tackling him to ground before he could shoot him. The two wrestled on the ground. Darvan ended on top of Jensen and managed wrestle the bow from his hands tossing it away into the darkness. Jensen was no match for Darvan’s strength and the bandit had eventually pinned him, assaulting him with a series of relentless punches. Jensen felt stinging pain as Darvan’s fist made contact with his face breaking his nose. He was disoriented now. The world began to spin and his head was plagued with a constant high-pitched ringing.

What happened next was a mix of blurry confusion. He felt Darvan get off of him. Then he saw what looked like Darvan gathering up his pack and the bag of coins. Darvan then appeared to try and head towards the horses when a dark figure of man came out from behind the trees cutting him off.

“Get outta my way!” Darvan demanded to the dark man.

The dark man did not stand aside. He said nothing and stood his ground.

“Don’t make me kill you!” Darvan warned as he thrust his sword towards the dark man’s direction.

The man did not flinch. Instead, he reached behind his back and Jensen heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed from it’s scabbard.

“I warned you!” Darvan screamed as he lunged at the man with his sword.

Jensen was still dazed and his sight was still blurry but he saw as Darvan clashed swords with the mysterious man. Darvan was not as good of a swordsman as Flint but he was still formidable with a blade. From what he could make out, Darvan attacked with a series of fast and powerful attacks all of which were easily blocked and parried by the man. The man seemed to move and block Darvan’s attacks with such fluidity that he hardly seem to be trying. His sword play was so fast he was almost a blur of motion in the dark. Then as quickly as it had started, the two had locked blades, the man caught Darvan off guard and knocked the sword out his hands with a effortless riposte. Disarmed, Darvan fells to his knees at his opponent’s mercy.

“Please, don’t kill me!” Darvan begged pathetically. He held out the bag of coins before the strange man. “Just take the gold, it’s yours!”

The man said nothing. He just stood there silently. Then suddenly, Jensen saw the blur of his sword lift up and strike down. The hilt of the sword’s handle smacked Darvan on top of his head knocking him out cold.

Jensen’s vision had cleared now but his head still ached. He saw the man clearly now. He was a young man, tall with a strong but slender build. He wore a black shirt, black pants and he had a black hood that covered the head and lower part of his face. His features were almost completely hidden save for a small slit where Jensen could see his cunning brown eyes. On his feet he had black boots that each had a slit between the big toe and the second toe. The weapon he carried was a curved, slender sword with a single-edged black blade and a long grip hilt with a squared guard.

The man spotted him and started walking slowly towards him. Jensen’s first instinct was to get up and fight but given how quickly the man had dispatched his companions, he knew he would be no match for him. He also realized that given his physical state, he probably wouldn’t get very far if he tried to run. He then resigned himself to give up so held up his hands in surrender.

“You had the right idea earlier.” The young man said.

“What?” Jensen asked confused.

“Earlier, when you suggested that you stay in the light.” He explained. “That was pretty smart. Your friend should have listened. But then again, I should thank him for attacking you. It made my job so much easier.” Jensen could tell the man was smiling.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Jensen asked.

The man then pulled off his black hold to reveal his face. He had raven black hair and framing oval face with tan skin, a wide nose, an angled jaw and a stoic expression with a clever smile.

“My name is Kaledon, I am hunter and you’re under arrest.”

End chapter

 *This is just the first draft, things are likely going to change. Please leave any comments, criticism, or ideas!*

 

The Black Ring: Prologue (sample)

Prologue

I must be out of my mind. Lord Byron thought to himself as he cradled the cold black ring in the palm of his hand. He had found it earlier on his desk. He came into his office and found it there laying on his desk. No note. No message at all. It was a strange thing, the ring was made out of black gold, plain and smooth there were no markings or bands at all.

The ring made Byron very suspicious. He wondered who would give it to him and why. He thought maybe it was a gift of some sort. But such a strange gift to give, black jewelry was not exactly his taste nor was it his wife’s. Perhaps it was a joke, a jest from a friend of his. But if it was, it didn’t seem like any jest anyone he knew would play.

“What are you?” Lord Byron found himself saying out loud to the unresponsive  ring in his hand.

“My lord?” A voice said from within the room.

The voice startled him and he shuddered. He looked up and saw the fair-haired blue-eyed young man, Marcus in his shiny armor and gold cloak standing under the doorway of his office. The young man was staring at him with a look that display both confusion and concern. The sight of the captain of his guard gave Byron a sense of relief.

“I’m sorry my lord, did I startle you?” The young captain apologized.

“Not at all, Captain Marcus. What is that you want?.” Byron said.

“Sorry to disturb you my lord but your wife, Lady Marilyn was wondering when you were planning on going to bed.” Marcus said.

Marilyn. She was always one to worry. She always insisted that Byron go to bed early. He didn’t understand why, he wasn’t unwell. He didn’t like how she worried so much. Still though, he knew she meant well and it was getting late. He probably should get some sleep but he knew that with this black ring thing, there was no way he was going to get some rest unless he it out first.

“Yes of course, captain. Tell her, I will be coming to bed as soon as I can.” Byron paused to stare intently at the black ring still lying in the palm of his hand. He had to figure out what it meant. “But first, there are some things I have to get some done.”

“Yes, my lord.” Captain Marcus nodded, he started out the door but then he turned back around.“Are you alright my lord? You seem troubled.”

“Yes, Marcus.” Byron smiled. “I’m fine” Lies. “I just have some things on my mind at the moment.”

“As you say, my lord.” Captain Marcus saluted then dismissed himself from Byron’s office.

For a moment, Lord Byron almost thought to inquire Captain Marcus about the strange ring but decided against it. Besides, he doubted that Marcus would have anything helpful to say about it and he would probably tell his wife about and that would just worry it more.

He kept his thoughts on the ring throughout the entire night as he worked. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep it off his mind. He kept wondering. Who sent it? What does it mean? Why do I care about it so much? He soon realized that he cared because there was something nagging at the back of his head that made the ring had some kind of meaning.

As the night went on and the candles on his desk had almost melted down. It was very late. Marilyn was going to be very upset with him. Having no luck figuring out the riddle behind the ring, he decided to study it more closely but holding it in the fading candle light. The candlelight beamed out behind the ring between his thumb and forefinger creating a black ringed eclipse behind a flaming candle sun. A thought then came to his mind. Perhaps the black ring wasn’t meant to be a literal ring at all but instead it meant…..

The revelation paralyzed Lord Byron with fear. If what he thought was true, then it meant he was in great danger. He barely had any time to gather his wits about him when suddenly a window burst open from the wind outside bringing a cold breeze into the office. The wind blew out the remaining flame from the dying candle light swallowing the room in darkness.

Byron suddenly began to feel like there was a presence in the office. Someone else was in the room with him. It moved with the shadows, quick as a cat and quiet as the dark itself. Byron’s was beyond fear but he still could not move out. There were voices, whispers in the dark, coming from far away, yet still nearby. Then it stopped.

“Do you know what it means yet, Lord Byron?” A cold voice asked from behind him.

“Yes.” Lord Byron said, surprisingly calm. “I know.” He sighed. He knew what was coming.

“Then you know what happens next?”

“Yes.” Byron felt the cold steel against his throat.

Lord Byron’s last thoughts were of Marilyn.

 *Please note that this a sample of the Prologue and things are subject to change in the next draft*

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