Sins of the Fathers- The Complete Trilogy by Matthew P Gilbert

Author:Matthew P Gilbert [Gilbert, Matthew P]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2020-01-23T22:00:00+00:00

11. The Hunter’s Tale

Aiul rode slump shouldered and head down, as if he had died in the saddle, swaying as the great, black horse beneath him walked ever eastward. He wore his robe’s hood over his face in a vain attempt to hide the steady flow of tears, but he felt certain that Logrus saw, and was secretly laughing at him.

They had been traveling for three days, through snow covered plains and sparse woodlands, a wall of silence between them. Logrus, Aiul knew, had little to say, and Aiul, for his part, had no desire to share his thoughts with a stoic killer. Yet silence left him with little to do but think, to remember horrors and pains that the action of late had pushed from his mind. He was falling into a black spiral of depression from which there seemed no escape.

The gaping, putrefying wound in his soul, born of Lara being torn from him as she was, was always present, a constant sword through his gut. His hatred for Kariana, for all of Nihlos, was not merely an emotion, but a way of life. And yet he had weathered these torments for months. They had not dulled, but at least the outlines of their scars were mapped. Men have the capacity to adjust their expectations of life, to adapt to a known horror, and Aiul had done just that, lowering them to just what was necessary to survive. The old Aiul, the doctor, the husband, the lover, had slipped away in the prison, died screaming, welcoming with open arms the cold embrace of oblivion, leaving in its place a new Aiul, who lived only for revenge and had no need for anything else. Enough time had passed that he had become familiar with his new self.

His actions of late were another matter. Aiul closed his eyes, remembering slashing Banger’s throat in casual contempt. But it was the sheer euphoria that had come over him during his killing spree amongst the cultists, the complete satisfaction he had felt in the act, that stung him most. He had lived so long as a healer, and now, without really understanding why, he was a murderer with a growing list of victims. That they deserved it was little comfort. He did not mourn them. He mourned himself.

Logrus rode beside him astride a twin of Aiul’s mount, seemingly unaware that he even had a traveling companion until he shattered the illusion by speaking. “Why do you cry?” he asked, his words jarring Aiul after so much silence.

Aiul glared at him, then returned to staring at nothing. “You say not a word to me for days,” he growled. “My shame amuses you when nothing else penetrates.”

“No,” Logrus answered, without a hint of guilt. “I am curious. It seems strange to me.”

“Mei!” Aiul spat. “You treat me like baggage, and now you would hear my secrets, as if I were a friend?”

Logrus shrugged, confusion on his face.

“Are you really such a fool?” Aiul wondered. “You

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