The King's Bloodhound: The Baldfoot Curse, #2

By Michael Sauls

In this fantasy, Rinad, a halfling tracker, must overcome his self-doubts to save a kingdom from upheaval. Sheriff Ridgemont takes on Rinad as a royal huntsman after the halfling demonstrates excellent tracking skills. As the sheriff investigates the misdeeds of Baron Castaro, it becomes more apparent the shadow of evil spreads across the kingdom. It will take all the combined efforts of Rinad, his allies, and a little divine intervention to defeat the evil baron.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Sauls
• Release date: Apr 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215770283

Book preview

The King's Bloodhound

Michael Sauls

Copyright © [Year of First Publication] by [Author or Pen Name]

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental. This story contains scenes that portray rape and violence,

Contents

Prologue

1. Helping, a Child

2. An audience with the king

3. Baroness Lavena

4. Seigneur Florien Shines

5. Rinad Loses Patience

6. Ransom

7. Morning Exercise

8. Wanda's Wizardry Supplies

9. Fox Hunt

10. Riot in the Slums

11. The archmage and the high priestess

12. Farm Massacre

13. Pursuit and Prey

14. Many Trails

15. Lady Talia

16. The Power of Faith

17. A Castle Full of Ghosts

18. Fiefdom of Desolation

19. Halfling Assassin

20. Stroud's Decision

21. A Secret Passage

22. Tightening the Snare

23. Dawn's Mother

24. The Undead Siege

25. Begging for Information

26. Solving a Mystery

27. Gatehouse resolution

28. Friendship

29. The Gauntlet Closes

30. Trapped

31. Stroud's Confession

32. Fever Dream

33. Fifth Battalion

34. A Magic Bow

35. Rat Boy

36. Battle Front

37. A touch of the Familiar

38. Desperation

39. Race Against Time

40. Mindless

41. Lights Out

42. Reunion

43. Tribunal

Epilogue

Prologue

Latwinter-Year AML 1217

Near the end of the dwarf war

Lady Lavena knocked at the door of her husband’s office, and he bid her to enter. My lord, Our guests have arrived. We will serve dinner in the dining hall.

Baron Castaro was sitting at his office desk reviewing reports from the battlefront. He was handsome with a neatly trimmed beard and manicured nails. He wore an ironed white shirt, and the brass buttons and high topped boots were shined to a mirror sheen.

You could have sent a servant to tell me that, my lady, he said. He smiled, revealing straight white teeth.

The unmistakable deep baritone of his voice made her shiver. I have not seen my lord in months, she said. If I sent a servant to fetch you, then I would not be able to do this. She moved forward, wrapping her arms around his waist. He smelled of sandalwood and mint. He always smelled so good, she thought. It was one of the things that she loved about him. Even when he worked or traveled, and others would find themselves soiled or travel-stained, her husband somehow magically avoided grunge.

He kissed her and held her back to have a look at her. You look lovely, my dear. She’d tried her best to look good this evening. They were entertaining General Manch, who was also taking a short leave to spend time with his family. He was an important man in the army, and the baron needed his support for his ongoing campaign.

Lavena’s chambermaid had braided her hair, entwining flowers and ribbons into her locks. She wore an emerald green dress with a bright ribbon tied about the waist and a gold necklace with a heart-shaped pendant set with tiny emeralds.

Taking her hand in his, she could feel the sword calluses against the softness of her skin. Shall we? he asked. His grip was firm yet gentle.

We wouldn’t want to keep General Manch waiting, my lord. She frowned. She had not seen her husband in almost a year. Was it selfish that she would rather have him all to herself for a while?

They walked hand and hand to the dining room. The general was already there with his spouse and their eleven-year-old son. The general bowed at the waist, and his wife curtsied. The boy did not, at least not, until his mother scolded him wordlessly with a withering look.

My lord, you honor my family by inviting us to dinner, said the general. This is my wife Adelle and my son Manch, jr.

A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord, said Adelle.

My lord, said Junior.

General, it is a pleasure to have you in my home and to meet your lovely wife and son, said the baron. Please allow me to present the Lady Lavena.

Lavena noticed that Adelle blushed when the baron spoke. She curtsied. A pleasure, Lavena said. She understood Adelle’s reaction. The baron had that effect on people. He just had a way about him that drew people to him.

Have you seen the latest report from the front, my lord? asked the general.

I have. Donner’s blue band found where the blackguard has been hiding.

At last, said the general. That mercenary has been a thorn in our side this campaign.

When we return to the battlefront, I swear I will end him, said the baron. Now, enough talk of war. My chef has prepared some fine things for us tonight.

Junior’s face lit up at the mention of food. Will there be dessert?

There will be desert, said Lavena smiling at the boy.

My lord, said Adelle. I heard your speech at the signing of the alliance treaty. It gave me chills. She put her hand on the baron’s arm and smiled at him.

General Manch stiffened. He looked in Lavena’s direction with one eyebrow raised. Lavena kept her polite smile, but her eyes narrowed.

The baron said, You honor me, my lady. I only wish it had convinced our neighbors to the north to join our cause instead of the dwarves.

Adelle! said the general. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye with his eyes narrowed.

What? He is a great orator. I’m excited to meet him, she said. The tone of her voice became almost childish. She smiled, her eyes going wide. Adelle toyed with her hair as she looked at her husband.

It is fine, general. I get that a lot. Perhaps, If I can persuade my lady to play the harp, I will entertain us with a song or two after dinner, promised the baron.

Of course. I would love to, said Lavena. She smiled. He is more than just a good speaker. He also has a wonderful singing voice.

Oh, said Adelle. She clapped her hands together softly. I can’t wait.

I brought you a gift, baron, said the general. He produced a bottle of wine. It is a Sangiovese from one of the finest vineyards in Omahal.

Indeed, said the baron. He snapped his fingers twice, and one of the servants came and took the bottle. Have our mage chill this and serve it with dinner.

My lord, The servant bowed his head and carried the bottle away.

Shall we. said the baron. He approached a long table set with hors d’oeuvres and a small cabinet with cocktail mixers.

Chapter one

Helping, a Child

Earlspring-Year AML 1228

Present day

Rinad snarled and crumbled the message he’d received from the sheriff into a ball, wondering if he was on the verge of losing his job or ending up with his head in a basket. He burped, and it tasted of vomit. The feel of acid reflux stung his throat, causing his eyes to water and making him cough. He’d only been the royal huntsman in service to the sheriff as a tracker for a short time, but he’d thus far been unsuccessful at finding the runaway squire named Stroud. To say his employer was not happy was an understatement.

Myrna handed him a canteen, and Rinad took a drink and swished the water around to wash out the taste and spit on the ground. Sheriff Ridgemont isn’t happy, I take it? she asked.

Rinad shook his head. He was walking through a small halfling village with his friends, an elf named Baskin and a half-elf priestess named Myrna. The village was situated next to the river. The homes, smaller than those occupied by humans, were round structures built from clay with thatched roofs made from the river rushes. The land around the town was tiered farmland, and the smell of wood fire and fish hung in the air.

Rinad was himself, a halfling. At first glance, sometimes humans mistook him for a human child. Most halflings had pointed ears ending in a tuft of fur and fur-covered feet with an opposable thumb toe which looked more like the foot of a primate than a human’s, but Rinad’s feet were hairless.

A small halfling child ran past them, crying, followed by three laughing children. Rinad looked at the ground and frowned. The young ones vanished around a corner. The older children were having fun at the expense of the younger girl and paid no mind to the strangers walking into town. Rinad’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth became tight-lipped and straight.

Rinad stopped walking as an unpleasant memory invaded his thoughts. He remembered being a child in his tiny hometown. It was similar to this halfling village. Except it was in the center of broad fertile farmland instead of next to a river.

He remembered being surrounded by a large number of halfing children. Mud covered his clothing, and his nose was bleeding. He was lying on the ground crying when the largest of the children kicked him in the ribs. His father came to his rescue that day, scolding the children and chasing them off, but as they walked away, a clump of mud struck Rinad in the back of the head.

Clavin had returned, braving his father’s anger to get one last shot in. Bald feet, bald feet, Clavin chanted.

I told you to go home, Clavin. I’m telling your parents, Rinad’s father had said.

Clavin laughed and stuck out his tongue. Bald feet, Bald feet, he chanted as he ran away laughing. His father had told Clavin’s parents, but it only worsened matters. Rinad gritted his teeth, forcing the bad memory away. He needed to focus.

Are you alright? asked Myrna. You became very pale all of a sudden. Myrna was a priestess of Rhun, the great spirit. As a half-elf, she still had pointed ears though they were shorter than Baskin’s ears. Her blonde locks were pulled back in a ponytail, tied back with a piece of blue fabric. She put a comforting hand on Rinad’s shoulder. Myrna had soft brown eyes that always seemed to express the kindness of the woman who comforted him.

I’m fine, Rinad said. He was lying. It had been a long since he’d set foot in a halfling town. He was caught off guard by his reaction. Myrna’s dog Gus licked his hand and looked up at him, his tail wagging slowly. Rinad had been holding his breath without realizing it. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. Then he gave Gus a friendly scratch behind the ears.

You are not fine, said Baskin. He was an elven mage. His robes were blue and marked with magical symbols embroidered in silver thread. His hair was a metallic red and hung long around his shoulders like red tinsel. He regarded his friend with red eyes and frowned.

I think you are having an anxiety attack, said Myrna. She was their healer and was always very wise regarding their health.

Rinad gritted his teeth and brushed Myrna’s hand off of his shoulder. It has been a long time since I’ve been to a halfling town. He put his hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples with closed eyes. He’d been rude to Myrna, but he couldn’t help it. Let’s find their head, man, so that we can get out of this gods’ forsaken village. He steeled himself and walked into the village, gritting his teeth.

Myrna and Baskin hung back a moment, whispering back and forth. Rinad stopped and looked at his friends. What? He yelled the question. Too loud, he realized.

Nothing, said Myrna. She hurried to follow.

The quicker we find Squire Stroud, the sooner we can get back to the sheriff.

They found the headman shortly. He was an elderly halfling with streaks of gray in his hair, but he still had a twinkle in his eye. He puffed on a long pipe and blew the smoke out of his nose. You say that you’ve lost one of your squires?

Aye, said Rinad. He fell off a cliff a little further up the river. We were wondering if any of your fishermen found a body.

No, I don’t recall any bodies washing up lately. You can ask Tarly down at the docks, though, just to be thorough, the headman kept glancing down at Rinad’s feet, his mouth twisted in a frown.

Does something down there interest you? asked Rinad. His voice sounded angry.

Uh, no, no, the headman said. He smiled briefly but then, a moment later, made another glance down at Rinad’s feet. The headman shifted from foot to foot like he was nervous.

My eyes are up here, Rinad said. He pointed at his face. This Tarly, what’s he look like?

He is a blonde halfling about this tall, said the headman. His hand shook as he held it around four feet above the ground. He wears a green hat.

Mmerda! Rinad said, using the elven word for feces. He stormed off in the direction of the docks.

Thank you very much for your help, said Myrna. If you see anything, please send word to Sheriff Ridgemont in Keeneland.

Of course, my lady, said the headman. And I meant no offense. I’ve never seen a halfing with bald feet before.

He is a little sensitive about them, said Baskin.

They ran after their friend, who was already halfway to the docks. He was walking so fast. Rinad, wait, please, said Myrna. Please, won’t you tell us what is bothering you?

It’s them, Rinad said. He gestured at the halflings walking around town. Many of them were staring and whispering amongst themselves as they cast glances in his direction. You see how they are all looking at me, right? And that headman, what a testicu. I wish we could find the squire and get out of here. (testicu being a common insult in Elvish.)

Maybe I should handle talking to this Tarly fellow, said Baskin. "Why don’t you and Myrna wait here? Baskin went over to a building by the docks and knocked. A halfling in a green hat came out a moment later and talked to the elf mage.

Rinad, I’m worried about you, said Myrna. Ever since Squire Stroud ran off, you’ve been acting a bit out of sorts.

What do you mean? asked Rinad.

Like the night the squire Stroud fell off the cliff. You insisted that you saw Spencer throw him off the cliff, but no one else saw it. He just fell. We all miss Spencer, but maybe you haven’t come to terms with his death.

I have. I have, Rinad had a pained look on his face. He was my best friend. I do miss him, but I don’t think that is why I saw him that night.

Maybe you are just feeling overwhelmed, she said. She put a comforting hand on Rinad’s shoulder, and Gus rubbed against him, wagging his tail. I know the sheriff is putting pressure on you to find Stroud.

Rinad gave the dog a scratch and smiled. I think I may have made a mistake. When they offered me the position of king’s huntsman, I was so excited, but I couldn’t even find a missing squire. They all think I’m this great tracker. Maybe I should have just stayed at my old job.

You are a great tracker, Rinad. You’ve helped the sheriff find bandits and thieves more than once. You can do this job, she said.

His smile was brief. "Thanks for being such a good friend, Myrna.

A little girl came out of a house near where they were talking. She was sobbing. She sat down on the ground in her front yard. Recognizing her from earlier, Rinad went over to her. Hey, what’s wrong?

I can’t find my woobie, she said in a shaky voice.

What’s a woobie? asked Myrna.

I don’t know, said Rinad. He turned to the child. Where were you last time that you had it?

She thought about that for a moment. I was playing with my friend Melany, and then some boys took him.

Ok, where? Rinad asked

The little girl pointed up the street in the direction the other kids had also been playing in earlier. We were playing by the big tree.

Those boys I saw chasing you earlier were the ones that took your woobie?

She nodded.

Come on, Rinad started walking towards the tree but kept his eyes open. They made it about halfway to the big tree when Rinad spotted a stuffed bear in a bush next to the road. He pulled it out. Is this your woobie?

It is, said the little girl. She smiled brightly, took the bear, and hugged it close. "

Thank you so much." She ran off towards her house.

Rinad chuckled. Kids.

How did you know where to find it? asked Myrna.

I just had a hunch, said Rinad. I saw the boys stop near these bushes earlier. You know how kids can be.

And you say that you aren’t good at tracking things down. No wonder the sheriff’s men nicknamed you the bloodhound, she said. She took his arm, and they walked back towards the docks. Gus ran back and forth ahead of them, wagging his tail. That is until he saw the elf. He had to run over to Baskin and spin in a circle before jumping up on him.

I hate that stupid nickname, said Rinad.

It’s not so bad, said Myrna. It is a tribute to their faith in your skill.

Rinad decided to change the subject. I feel for that little girl. I know what it is like not to fit in, he said. The boys in my village used to do stuff like that to me all the time. They’d steal my toys and hide them. When my dad would go to their house and ask about them, they never had my things. I’d find them later hidden in a bush or floating in the lake next to my village. I thought about that and guessed they wouldn’t keep her, woobie.

She nodded, her brown eyes soft and sympathetic.

Halflings with hairy feet think that they are superior. They pick on anyone different. Look at them with their perfect little village, all pretending to be so happy, Rinad spat on the ground.

Halflings are good people. One of my favorite people is a halfling, Myrna said. And kids are going to be kids. They can be cruel and do stupid things, but they can also be adorable, like the child you helped today.

You think so? said Rinad. I don’t. I think halflings are part of everything wrong in this world.

That is a little harsh. Children sometimes act the way they do because they don’t know any better, she said. What is your excuse?

And what about when adults act like testicus? asked Rinad, a hint of anger in his gaze.

I know you’ve been through some painful stuff, but you must rise above it. You have to be willing to forgive people. The only person you hurt by holding onto old grudges is you. Don’t let what others think or say about your feet define you. You define yourself. The goddess blessed you. Be confident. Believe in yourself, she said.

At that moment, Baskin came walking up. Rinad ignored Myrna’s comment and went right to questioning the elf. The halfling in the green hat hadn’t seen any bodies or heard of any fishermen spotting one, but he promised to keep an eye out. He did mention that there were several bandits nearby. He suggested they check into them as a possibility.

Rinad paled. If Stroud ran afoul of these bandits, that could explain why I haven’t picked up a trail. If they have a boat, they may have taken him or worse. Once again, he wondered if his future ended with a headsman’s ax.

The sheriff isn’t going to be happy about this, said Myrna.

Baskin said, The fisherman also said that the current in the river is strong. Sometimes people drown, and they never find the bodies.

Rinad rubbed both his temples. His head was pounding. We’ll send a message to the sheriff to inquire what we should do about these bandits, then continue our search.

Chapter two

An audience with the king

Sheriff Ridgemont sat at the common room table at an inn in the city of Keeneland in the kingdom of Danak. Two long wooden tables of dark stained wood were in the room, surrounded by half a dozen chairs each. A stone fireplace was in the center of one wall, framed by thick wood beams that held a four-inch thick mantle. The walls were white-washed wooden slats. Aside from a busy server wiping off the tables, the sheriff was alone.

He sighed, running calloused fingers through his dark hair. He looked at the message lying on the table in front of him. He had expected this, but it did not make the news any easier to take. His monarch, King Serilius of Akirem, was displeased with him. They all knew that this was going to be a problem. On the journey from Portales, the capital of Akirem, to Keeneland, Squire Stroud, who was training under one of his attending knights, ran away. Then during their pursuit of the young man, he had been thrown or perhaps fallen off a cliff. The reports from his subordinates needed to be more consistent on that detail. He had Rinad, his best tracker, searching for the boy, but they’d been unsuccessful so far. At this point, the sheriff feared that the boy might be dead.

Stroud, a lad of about fourteen, was the son of the Duke Geoffrey of Bridgeport, one of the kingdom’s most wealthy and influential nobles. The duke was furious. The sheriff buried his face in his hands. Disappointed, he said, wondering at his majesty’s choice of words. He feared losing his appointment as sheriff once he returned to Akirem’s capitol. To make matters worse, they encountered one obstacle after another when seeking an audience with the king of Danak.

The server came to his table. Is everything alright, my Lord? Can I get you something? The cook is just starting breakfast, but I can get you some tea. It will be a while before the biscuits are ready, but they are worth the wait.

Tea sounds lovely, the sheriff said. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples.

Sir Cristouer came down the stairs with Squire Gavien. The knight was a heavily muscled giant of a man with his blonde hair cropped short and kept shaved on the side. His Squire was a handsome, athletic lad with brown hair cut in the same manner as his knight. It was easy to see that the boy idolized his knight.

The knight was shirtless, and he and his Squire carried wooden swords. You are up early, sheriff. Perhaps you would do us the honor of training with us this morning.

The sheriff considered this. It has been a very frustrating week since arriving here in the city. Nothing had gone their way. Some training may help him to release some stress. Instead, he made an excuse. I need to write my response to his majesty. The servant came and set a steaming cup of tea before him.

Oh, come on, sheriff. You aren’t afraid of getting a few bruises, are you? Sir Cristouer goaded.

Perhaps, Sir Harcourt and Seigneur Florien would enjoy training with you, the sheriff said.

Sir Harcourt is coming as soon as he gets dressed, but the seigneur will likely sleep until lunch after consuming as much wine as he drank last night.

I’ll have you know, Sir that the amount of wine I drank last night was nothing, a voice said from the top of the stairs. The seigneur stepped into view with Sir Harcourt beside him.

Sir Harcourt was also stripped to the waist and carrying a wooden sword. He said that he wanted to train with us. I can’t see how he is standing after last night, much less how he will train. He drank enough to drown a fish.

You knights simply cannot hold your wine, the seigneur insisted. He came down the stairs staggering, obviously still drunk. Why in the nine hells do you always get up so early? The cook hasn’t even finished making breakfast.

Sir Cristouer beat his muscular chest. We like to work up an appetite before we eat. Besides, I cannot have my Squire slacking off just because we are traveling.

They were starting to get an audience of serving girls who were whispering and giggling amongst themselves. The knights went out into the yard, and they began their exercises. Not to be outdone by the drunken seigneur, the sheriff stepped outside to join them followed by a group of gawking servants. Word of their daily training must have spread around town. There was an audience gathered outside, composed chiefly of women.

Gavien offered to let Florien use his training sword, but the diplomat brushed off the suggestion with a dismissive wave. I appreciate the offer, Squire, but the long sword isn’t my weapon of choice.

The Squire looked confused. Why did you come out with us if you aren’t training with us?

I could not miss an opportunity to work out with all these lovely knights with their shirts off. Believe me, dear boy. I am in. Florien went over to a tree and cut off a stick about three feet long with his dagger. He trimmed off the leaves until he