Dangerous Territory Read online

  Dangerous Territory

  A Keltin Moore Adventure

  By Lindsay Schopfer

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  LINDSAY SCHOPFER’S BOOKS AND SHORT STORIES

  Copyright | Copyright © 2019 Lindsay Schopfer | Cover Art by Maura Moffat | All rights reserved. | ISBN-13: 978-1-0927-5118-6

  to Laura Schopfer, | for all the good memories and years of playing make-believe together

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Prologue –Dangerous Work

  Chapter 1 – True Courage

  Chapter 2 – Putting Down Roots

  Chapter 3 – A Call to Action

  Chapter 4 – Old Haunts

  Chapter 5 – The Hound

  Chapter 6 – A New Companion

  Chapter 7 – Specters from the Past

  Chapter 8 – Prejudice

  Chapter 9 – Hidden Fire

  Chapter 10 – Last Words

  Chapter 11 – Time to Move

  Chapter 12 – Loose Ends

  Chapter 13 – Welcome to Malpin

  Chapter 14 – The Mighty Hunter

  Chapter 15 – The MLP

  Chapter 16 – Cornered

  Chapter 17 – Sweet Reunion

  Chapter 18 – Balanced Risk

  Chapter 19 – On the Run

  Chapter 20 – Pike Forest

  Chapter 21 – Last Resort

  Chapter 22 – In Recovery

  Epilogue – Golden Moments

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  About the Author

  LINDSAY SCHOPFER’S BOOKS AND SHORT STORIES

  The Adventures of Keltin Moore

  The Beast Hunter

  Into the North

  Dangerous Territory

  Other Works

  Lost Under Two Moons

  Magic, Mystery and Mirth

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2019 Lindsay Schopfer

  Cover Art by Maura Moffat

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-0927-5118-6

  to Laura Schopfer,

  for all the good memories and years of playing make-believe together

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks to all of the fans of The Adventures of Keltin Moore for their ongoing shared love of these stories. We’ve come a long way since the first Keltin Moore short story was posted on my otherwise empty website.

  Jerry Bowman and the Northwest Carriage Museum for their generosity and fantastic information.

  Gordon Frye for his knowledge of firearms and infectious passion for history.

  My creative writing students for helping me to see the craft of storytelling through new eyes.

  All of my beta readers for their enthusiasm and tenacity.

  My friends and family for their love and support.

  Kathryn and Elizabeth for giving the best grins, giggles, and hugs a daddy can get.

  And my beautiful wife Elicia, my dearest friend, biggest fan, and beloved eternal companion.

  Prologue –Dangerous Work

  Keltin paused to wipe away the sweat that had dripped down under the band of his wide-brimmed hat. The late summer sun beat down on him relentlessly, forcing him to question whether he’d made a mistake by wearing his familiar, long hunting coat, even with the inner lining removed. He’d had the coat since his first beast hunt, and it had done wonders at keeping him dry and warm in Riltvin’s long rainy seasons, and had even saved his life more than once from an attacking beast. But as he walked forward carefully, searching the forest floor for any signs of the beast he was tracking, he couldn’t help wondering whether the added safety was worth the discomfort in the oppressive heat.

  Looking down, Keltin noticed a single leaf turned over to show its silver underside against the carpet of green around it. Searching the area, he found the slightest indentation in the dusty dry forest floor. A track. Keltin straightened up and continued onward, searching the ground for more signs of his quarry's passing. Head down, he made his way forward, trying to ignore the sensation of sweat pouring from his body and trickling down his face, sides and legs. He paused as the trail disappeared once again. Turning, he searched for a broken twig or another footprint, anything that would indicate the passing of the beast. Too late, he heard the gentle rush of wind from somewhere above him.

  A weight slammed into his back and drove him to the forest floor. He tasted bitter earth in his mouth, his nose smarting as it came into sharp contact with the bark of a dead tree. The razorleg’s sharp forelimbs tore at his coat and the pack on his back. Keltin tried to roll away to freedom but was hampered by the closely growing brush and bracken all around him. The beast savaged his back, ripping and shredding the fabric with terrible intensity.

  Keltin knew it was only a matter of seconds before the beast’s bladed feet would reach his flesh. His rifle useless, he fumbled for the revolver in his belt. Finding the handle, he pulled it free, aimed it behind himself, and fired the entire chamber through his own coat and pack, hoping he would hit the beast’s body. The Matlik rounds in the pistol lacked the deep penetration of a Reltac Spinner, but they were still powerful enough to penetrate the tattered fabric and the contents of his pack to strike the body of the razorleg. He felt the beast spasm on top of him, and Keltin used its pain as a distraction to allow himself to remove the Lawrie hunting knife from its sheath on his side and stab awkwardly upward while turning and rolling. He almost ended up on top of the beast but managed to come to a stop lying on his side.

  Keltin rolled away to safety and rose up onto unsteady legs, knife held out in front of him. The razorleg thrashed around as it struggled to its feet and tried to regain its balance on spindly legs. Keltin tried to gauge just how wounded the beast was as he considered his next move. With his revolver empty and his rifle lying on the ground where he’d dropped it, Keltin tightened his grip on his knife. On his back, he could still feel the tattered remains of his pack and coat. Somewhere amidst the wreckage was his Ripper, a savage short polearm designed specifically for finishing wounded beasts.

  Keeping one hand on the knife and both eyes on the beast, he began to slowly extricate himself from his coat and the straps of his pack. A distant part of his brain registered relief as he pulled his coat loose, exposing his sweat-soaked shirt to the dry forest air. Meanwhile, the beast had fully regained its balance. Turning towards him, it hissed and lunged, stopping short less than a yard from his feet. Keltin slashed the air with his knife in a warning gesture. The razorleg lunged again, forcing Keltin to take a step back while still working furiously to free himself from his coat and pack.

  Finally the coat and pack fell to the ground. He risked a look at the tattered heap and spied the Ripper lying among the sad remains of his belongings. He dove for the weapon, grabbed it, and came up ready to face the beast. The razorleg surged forward again but this time Keltin met its lunge with an attack of his own. He drove the spiked point of the Ripper into the thorax of the beast, knocking it completely off its feet and onto its back. Throwing his weight against the haft of the weapon, he drove the point deep into the creature like a naturalist pinning a flutterby to a display board. The razorleg kicked out desperately and Keltin staggered back, watching as the beast thrashed in its death throes. When it was finally still he dropped to his knees and said a brief, grateful prayer.

  Opening his eyes again, he looked down and was surprised to see blood running down his tattered shirt sleeve. Apparently the beast had gotten closer than he thought. Quickly he stripped off his shirt and checked himself as best he could for injuries. Inspecting his clothing first, he found that while his coat had been badly torn, the back of his shirt was still intact. He was grateful, as it would have been next to
impossible to treat an open wound on his back by himself. As it was, he had several scratches on his neck and arms with one long shallow gash in his left forearm. Quickly retrieving clean wrappings from his pack, he dressed his wound as best he could.

  That done, he put his shirt back on before rolling up his tattered coat and tying his pack back together as best he could. Returning to the dead beast, he used the broad blade of the Ripper to cut off its vile head with a single blow before retrieving his rifle and the last of his gear. Bending down, he picked up his hat before turning to slowly... painfully... make his way back to town.

  Chapter 1 – True Courage

  Keltin's boots crunched on the gravel path as he slowly walked towards the large manor house. The surrounding grounds were well-kept if somewhat wild. It seemed that the burgeoning upper class of Riltvin lacked the old world aesthetic that their Eastern neighbors enjoyed. Still, the mark of wealth was all around him, causing him to feel mildly uncomfortable in the plain, somewhat humble clean change of clothes he kept for Days of Rest and making appearances in town while on a hunt. Shouldering his rifle and his poorly repaired pack, he climbed the steps to the pair of front doors framed by pillars of stone that had no doubt added considerably to the final price of the manor house. Keltin gave a sharp rap on the door with the impressive brass knocker, waited a few moments, and then knocked again.

  The door opened to reveal a man in his middling years dressed in a uniform that was nicer than any clothing that Keltin had ever owned. Keltin resisted the urge to self-consciously tug at the cuffs of his shirt as the doorman addressed him.

  "May I help you, sir?"

  "Yes. My name is Keltin Moore. My sister Mary works here. She sent a letter inviting me to come visit her once I got to town."

  "Ah,” said the main with just the slightest nod. “I see. Mary told us that we should have expected you several days ago."

  "There were some complications with a beast hunt on the way here."

  Keltin wasn't sure how much more he should say about it, but it seemed that the doorman accepted his story without question or interest.

  "I see. Please step inside."

  Keltin entered the front doors into the largest, most ornate reception area he'd ever seen. The ceiling stretched away to an ornate chandelier high above his head. A staircase spiraled around to a second-floor far above him as a hallway passed by the bottom stair, leading off to multiple rooms. Keltin felt his insecurity grow as even the shine of the marble floors made him feel inadequate. He hoped that he had shaken all the dust of the road off of his boots before stepping inside. The doorman cleared his throat.

  "May I take your... ah... accoutrements, sir?"

  The doorman reached for Keltin's rifle, pack and gear, stopping just short of touching the haft of the Ripper. Keltin dutifully handed each to the man, who took it all and carried it gingerly through a doorway and out of Keltin's sight. After several moments of waiting, the doorman returned.

  "Just wait here. Please don’t touch anything."

  He turned and ascended the stairs up and out of Keltin's sight again.

  Keltin fidgeted in the entryway. Resisting the urge to wander around staring with his mouth open like a country yokel, he opted instead to admire the incredible craftsmanship of the chandelier and brass candle holders on the walls. He was examining a tasteful bunch of cut flowers arranged in a copper vase when he heard a soft gasp from the top of the stairs.

  "Keltin!"

  He looked up and felt all the uncertainty in his heart melt away at the sight of his younger sister. Mary wore the modest dress of a governess, her hair up in a tight bun, the same familiar shade of brown she had inherited from their father, so unlike the ruddy tones that Keltin shared with their mother. Mary raced down the stairs and threw her arms around him.

  "It feels like I haven't seen you in years!" she said, burying her face in his shoulder.

  Keltin returned the hug fiercely while favoring his injured left arm.

  "I've missed you Mary," he said. "You don't know how much."

  Mary trembled slightly in what might have been a chuckle, a restrained sob, or something in between. "I was so worried when you didn't arrive days ago. I thought something had happened."

  "It nearly did. I had a bad run-in with a razorleg, but I'm all right."

  "Good."

  Mary pulled back to smile up at him her eyes glistening slightly. "It seems like so much has happened since I saw you last. Krendaria, the gold rush... You've been through so much."

  Keltin shrugged. "You've seen a fair share of changes yourself. The last time I saw you, you were just getting your start as a maid. Now look at you. A governess in a great mansion. I'm sure that father would be proud."

  Mary nodded and gave a little sigh.

  "I wish you could tell me all about your adventures, but I can't leave the children for long. Would you like to meet them?"

  Keltin gave the answer that he was sure Mary was hoping for, though it was not necessarily the one that he was feeling.

  "Of course. You've told me so much about them. I'd love to meet these children I've heard such glowing praise of."

  Mary smiled sheepishly. "They are good children, for the most part, and very well behaved. I'm sure they'd be interested to meet you."

  Mary turned and led him up the stairs, keeping one hand firmly clasped around his good wrist. Keltin dutifully followed her, trying to remember all those things that he had meant to tell her while elegant paintings and immaculately cleaned rooms blurred by them. Mary stopped at one of the doors and ushered him inside. The room's interior reminded him of the one-room school building that he and Mary had attended as children, except that this room was much nicer and only slightly smaller. Two children sat side by side in desks that had never seen as much wear and tear as the ones that Keltin had once sat in. The two children, a boy and a girl somewhere between eight and twelve, sat busily copying sentences from a large book laying open between them. Mary released his hand and went to stand in front of the two children who looked up at her with mild curiosity.

  "Josiah, Madelynne, I want you to meet a very special guest," she said. "This is my brother. He's a beast hunter."

  Keltin gave the children a somewhat awkward smile. He didn't consider himself uncomfortable around children, only inexperienced. He rarely saw the young children of his Uncle Olphe, and there was little call to interact with children in the business of hunting monsters. For their part, Josiah and Madelynne seemed just as unsure of him as he was of them. They both gave him a soft, polite ‘hello’ before turning back to their governess as if to ask whether they should return to their school work. Mary seemed oblivious to the awkwardness of the situation, beaming with pride, though Keltin wasn't sure whether she was proud of her brother or her students. Perhaps it was a little of both. He struggled to think of something to say, but was grateful when Mary broke the silence.

  "Alright, I'm sure that my brother is very tired from the road. Perhaps we can talk to him later about some of his adventures." She checked a small pendant watch on her dress. "Continue your penmanship practice for another ten minutes. I'll be back after that to check on your progress."

  Mary turned and led Keltin out of the room, closing the doors quietly behind them.

  "Aren't they wonderful?" she asked as they walked away.

  "They seem very well behaved," said Keltin.

  "Oh they are. I have no complaints about them. I'm sure they'll be very excited to talk with you later. They are always asking me about you."

  Mary led him back downstairs and through another winding corridor to a doorway that led outside to a beautiful walkthrough garden. The day’s heat was beginning to wan and Keltin admired the mix of native Riltvinian flowers along with other hardy imports that could survive the sometimes harsh weather of his home country. Mary led him to a patio with elegant rattan furniture and a lovely view of the flowing green grass of the grounds out beyond. In the distance, Keltin could see a small lake and
a stand of trees farther away. Mary followed his gaze.

  "All of this is part of the Whitt's estate," she said. "Mr. Whitt keeps the lake stocked with fish, and he'll often have guests fish it, or go hunting in the woods for pheasant and small game in the fall."

  Keltin nodded, trying to imagine what life would be like with so much wealth. Mary took his arm and led him to a bench in the shade where they sat down together.

  "So," she said, "tell me how you are doing. Are you still working with Mr. Jaylocke and Bor've'tai? I had half-expected them to be with you."

  "They stayed back in Gillentown while I came along here ahead of them. We didn't want to bother hauling all of our gold down here only to find out that the rates aren't as good in Maplewood as we thought."

  Mary's eyes lit up. "Did you really get a lot of gold up in Drutchland?"

  Keltin nodded. "More than I've ever seen at once before, that's for certain.”

  “Have you given any thought to what you’ll do with it?”

  “Some. Though I’d always thought that if I ever got enough money, I’d see to it that you and mother were provided for—”

  “No,” Mary said with gentle firmness. “You don’t need to be concerned about providing for us like you used to. The Whitts are very good to me, and mother is with Uncle Olphe’s family now.”

  "Yes... how is mother doing?"

  "Well enough. She's taking it upon herself to be the unofficial tutor to all of her nieces and nephews there. I suppose once a teacher, always a teacher."

  Keltin nodded absently. After a moment, he looked up to see his sister watching him.

  "Have you considered trying to write to her again?" she asked.

  "No. I stopped trying a long time ago."

  "Maybe you should try. It has been a long time."

  "I wasn't the one who cut it off in the first place and kept it that way all this time."