Page 4 of Ladybird

“How many men do you think your father killed with this sword? I wonder how many I will kill with it someday.”

Hunter’s father was once a dungeon guard at Shrewsbury Castle in Shropshire. Hunter never even knew the man until one day when he was six, he found out. His mother brought him to the castle to tell his father that he existed. She was not married to the man and Hunter was naught but a bastard. Nothing ever came from the visit, nor did anything change at all. His mother was married to a different man at the time, with a daughter of their own who was Hunter’s older half-sister. Hunter’s stepfather never wanted someone else’s bastard son and treated Hunter poorly. His stepfather had moved them away from Shrewsbury all the way to Cornwall, probably trying to escape the fact he was raising a bastard whose own father didn’t even want him. By the time Hunter was thirteen, his stepfather had died and his mother then passed away shortly afterward. His older half-sister, Mary, quickly married to secure her future. That left Hunter alone to fend for himself at a young age.

All alone, he traveled back to Shrewsbury Castle to ask for his father’s help. The lord of Shrewsbury wouldn’t let Hunter’s father raise him inside castle walls, but did grant his father the right to build a cabin in his woods. His father, Robert, did so just to be with Hunter. The man turned mercenary in order to be able to support them both. He’d given Hunter his first sword and taught him to fight. Then he took Hunter on jobs with him every time he hired out his sword. They traveled a lot and were hardly ever home. It caused Hunter to grow up fast, seeing a different world than he was used to. It hardened Hunter’s heart and made him numb to people’s feelings or even to the quality of life. It came from having to learn at a young age to help his father kill on command.

“No, Luke. You are not going to kill anyone,” Hunter told his nephew. “That’s not the life you want to live, nor what I want for you. That sword I gave you is for your protection and to be used in self-defense only. And also to help scare away thieves,” snapped Hunter, not wanting the boy to end up following in his muddied footsteps.

“Well, what about my boots?” Luke picked up one foot and held it out as they rode. “I don’t like these and they’re getting small on me.”

“When we can afford it, I’ll buy you a new pair. For now, you’re fine.”

“Can’t I get some of those expensive cordovan leather boots like the rich nobles wear?” Luke wouldn’t shut up.

“Nay. Whatever for?”

“I dunno.” Luke swung his foot through the air as he rode. “To kick thieves when we capture them? I want to learn to punch and fight like you do, too. Can you teach me to smash my fist into a man’s face like you do to bring thieves to the ground?”

This conversation was getting worse by the minute. “There is nothing wrong with the boots you have,” answered Hunter, ignoring the part about Luke wanting to fight and kill. He probably should have taught the boy how to fight by now but had been hesitant to do so. Luke had just turned thirteen. A year ago he was naught but a child. Part of Hunter wanted Luke to keep that childlike innocence as long as possible. If it wasn’t already too late. The boy’s life was starting to become similar to the way Hunter had grown up, and no one should ever have to live like that!

“Then if I can’t get a crossbow or cordovan leather boots, how about a cat? Can I have a cat, Hunter? I’ve always wanted a black one so I could name her Inky. Isn’t that a mysterious name? Inky.” The boy’s words were laced with intrigue as he smiled and stared off at the sky as he daydreamed.

“We travel too often to have a pet, so the answer is no.”

“Pleeeease?” Luke was thirteen now but sometimes still acted like that eight-year-old that Hunter had first taken into his care.

“I said nay. Now don’t ask again.” This whole conversation was irritating Hunter and making his head hurt. All he longed for was a bit of peace and quiet.

“Well, why not?” the boy continued, not listening to Hunter’s warning in the least. “You are good at getting things for free so you could do it if you wanted to. I want to learn to do that too. Teach me to bluff like you do, Hunter. Then I’ll never have to work a day in my life and still have everything I’ve ever wanted.” The boy’s blue eyes lit up with excitement and it scared Hunter out of his mind. No thirteen-year-old should be so happy about the way they lived. It was not admirable at all to have to lie and basically steal just to get what they needed to survive.

Suddenly, Hunter felt no better than the thief he’d just apprehended. He thought he’d left that dark part of his past behind when he gave up being a mercenary. Now, he wasn’t so sure. Being a thief-taker wasn’t any better. So much for being a good influence on his nephew. Luke enjoyed getting things too easily, especially if it was by lying or cheating. That didn’t sit right with Hunter at all.

A deep stab twisted in Hunter’s gut and his head filled with that nagging, gnawing voice once again that he despised. It had been getting louder and louder through the years. At first he had ignored it but he couldn’t do that anymore. He tried his hardest to push the voice in his head away, but it taunted him and took control of his mind. This was the voice of his dear departed sister. She’d been talking to him from the grave.

Hunter, I don’t like the way you are raising my son. Luke is a good boy. You need to be a good example to him. What are you doing? What are you thinking?

“I’m doing the best I can,” he mumbled under his breath, not sure Mary could hear him since she was dead. Then again, he could hear her so it probably worked both ways, he imagined.

Why does Luke even have a sword? That is so dangerous. He’s too young to use it. And why are you taking him into places like that dirty disgusting tavern? With whores! He’s just a boy. You are a bad influence on my baby.

“Luke is not a baby and neither is he a boy anymore. He has been forced to grow up fast with no parents. He’s a young man now, Mary, even if you don’t think so.” Hunter spoke through gritted teeth, not liking to be controlled by a spirit from beyond. “Sister, I am trying my best to raise him. I am sorry if it isn’t good enough for you. Then again, nothing I ever did was good enough for you or even Mother, was it? You all listened to my stepfather too often when he spoke badly of me.”

“What did you say, Uncle Hunter?” Luke rode up next to him cocking his head and still smiling.

“Nothing, Luke. I was just thinking aloud, that’s all,” Hunter answered with a sigh.

Mary didn’t like this lifestyle for her son and Hunter couldn’t blame her in the least. He didn’t care for it either, but didn’t know how to change it. At least being a thief-taker was more honest of a living than being a mercenary or a damned thief. That had to count for something, didn’t it? Why couldn’t his sister understand that? Why wouldn’t her haunting voice in his head just go away and leave him be?

Please, Hunter. Try harder. Help my son to do the right things before he is led down the wrong path forever, like you. Before it is too late to turn back and he ends up paying with his life.

Hunter’s head pounded. All he wanted was to lay down and sleep for a week with a bottle of whisky gripped tightly in his fist. But he couldn’t. He was responsible for the boy and had to always be on the alert. Mayhap he was going about things all wrong or could do something better. He wasn’t sure anymore. But in his defense, he had never been a father before. He had no damned idea how to parent a child, let alone a restless youth who thought everything was naught but a fun game. He groaned inwardly. Why was everything in his life always so difficult? When would things start to get better? Now, in trying to help the boy and make him happy, Hunter had only gone and made the situation even worse.