The Prince (Heirs of Legacy Book 1)

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The Prince (Heirs of Legacy Book 1) Page 44

by Paul Lauritsen


  As they approached the forest, Relam’s father veered off to the left, abandoning the road and slowing to a canter as he entered the trees. Relam looked around quickly to get his bearings, then adjusted course to the right and slowed his horse to a walk, slipping under the outstretched, barren limbs of the winter-blasted trees at the edge of the forest. As he did, Relam felt a shiver of excitement run through him. Now, the hunt had truly begun!

  Chapter 36

  Under the skeletal trees, Relam led his guards quietly through the Midwood. The forest, which had been full of the living colors of green and brown on Relam’s last trip, had turned into a gray and white landscape, leeched of its color by winter. Relam had planned for this, telling his guards to dress in gray and white and doing the same himself. Even the horses they rode blended with the landscape, Relam riding a dappled gray, his guards riding a palomino and another gray.

  The prince kept his eyes on the ground, looking for tracks in the snow, trusting his guards to keep an eye out for threats all around. Every so often, Relam would glance up and scan the surrounding forest for any sign of animals, then return to looking for tracks.

  Finally, an hour in, they found clear imprints of cloven hooves in the snow. They were not large, but after following them a few meters the first set of tracks was joined by another set, overlapping and mixing with the first in a confused mess of crushed snow and deformed prints.

  “Two deer,” Relam murmured. “Maybe more. At least one male.” He glanced at his guards. “Stay quiet from here on in, unless you see a threat.”

  Galen nodded gravely and Wil gave Relam a confident wink and a grin. Relam rolled his eyes in reply, then urged his horse to follow the tracks, slipping one of the throwing spears from its place on the side of his saddle as he did so. He tested the point, making sure it was razor sharp, and nodded in satisfaction.

  The tracks were several hours old, water collecting in the bottom of them where the snow had melted, so Relam increased the pace. They did not sight anything before midday, though there was plenty of other evidence of animals in the woods. Tracks of hares and rodents, small and shallow, the clawed footprints of various birds. But no other deer or larger prizes. Thankfully, they saw no sign of bears either.

  They broke at noon for a quick meal. The tracks were fresher by now, less than a half-hour old. Relam felt his pulse accelerating as he realized that they were catching up, and judging by the prints the buck was a large one. They had seen other signs of the animal as it passed as well, fur caught on thorns, broken off branches where the deer had shoved past. They had even found some droppings, though these did little to tell Relam how large his quarry was or how impressive.

  After the hasty lunch, Relam and his guards set off again, in hot pursuit of their target. All around them the forest was silent, not a creature stirring amid the ice and snow. The wind gusted and branches rattled together overhead, a menacing and unearthly racket.

  They continued hunting, still closing in. The tracks were fresher now and Relam began scanning the forest more frequently. Then, as they approached a wide clearing, he spotted his prize for the first time.

  The buck was enormous, one of the largest Relam had ever seen. Standing beside it were two smaller does and a second buck. Relam held up a clinched fist, signaling his guards to stop, and raised his throwing spear, taking careful aim. The trees were slightly in his way, making it a difficult throw, and the wind was gusting all the more fiercely now that the moment had finally come. Relam urged his horse to take a single step to the right to improve his chances. As the heavy beast moved, a branch cracked under its hooves with a resounding SNAP!

  Relam froze, hardly daring to breathe. The deer had all looked up in unison, staring slightly to the side of Relam, their ears rotating and twitching, trying to discern where the noise had come from, where the sudden threat was waiting. The hind legs of every one of the creatures tensed as they prepared to bound away at the first sign of danger.

  Go back to whatever you were doing, Relam pleaded mentally. Forget about the noise, it was nothing. Just a branch breaking under the weight of ice.

  For several long, agonizing moments, the tableau stretched on. Then, the larger of the bucks snorted, took a step forward, and began nosing the frosty ground for suitable grazing material. Relam let out his breath quietly, steadying himself for the throw. The buck had stepped closer to Relam, providing him with a better shot. All he had to do now was finish the job.

  The prince stood in his stirrups and cast, aiming for the heart, just above the left foreleg. Then, he urged his horse forward at a run, already drawing another of the light spears.

  The first spear struck the buck precisely where Relam had aimed, and the graceful creature crumpled to the frozen ground. The remaining three deer bounded away as Relam dismounted and knelt beside his prize.

  The velvet eyes, now flat and lightless in death, stared up at him. The hind legs still trembled, trying to muster the strength to propel the deer away from its hunter. Relam laid a hand on the deer’s flank, then quickly ended its life with a slash across the neck from the second spear.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking at the magnificent creature. Its shaggy winter coat was matted with mud and snow from the fall, and the fur around the wound was stained red. But it was the largest Relam had ever successfully hunted, and almost certain to win the day.

  “Well done, your highness,” Galen said quietly, moving up beside him. “That was an excellent throw.”

  Relam shrugged, pulling the throwing spear free with a wet squelch. “It was all right,” he said modestly. “He made it easier by moving forward at the last moment like that.”

  Wil snorted. “Don’t let our praise go to your head, sir,” he said, grinning.

  Relam smiled in reply, then looked up at the sky. There were three hours left in the hunt, plenty of time to get back to Etares with the buck.

  “Either of you keep track of which direction the road is?” he asked, looking around the silent forest.

  “We’re slightly to the north of it,” Galen replied immediately, pointing off to the left. “If we go that way, we should reach it in just a few minutes.”

  “Good,” Relam muttered, tying the deer’s legs together. “And how do we get this home?”

  Galen frowned. “That could be difficult,” he admitted.

  “How about a sledge?” Wil suggested. “We can hook it up to the horses and they can drag it back for us.”

  “What do we use for a sledge?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Wil said, rummaging in his saddlebags. “Maybe this square of canvas and this bundle of ropes I brought along for just that purpose?”

  Relam rolled his eyes at him and took the offered canvas and rope. “It’s a shame to drag such a noble beast,” he remarked. “But it’s the only way we’ll get it back in time.”

  “Unless you fancy carrying it,” Wil agreed, dismounting to help.

  “Which I don’t,” Relam muttered.

  “Can’t blame you,” Wil agreed as he stooped to help shift the carcass onto the canvas square. “This one weighs a ton. You busy, Galen, or can you help a fellow out?”

  Galen shook his head, scanning the surrounding forest attentively. “I’m on guard duty,” he replied, frowning. “Someone needs to keep an eye out. No sense bagging a deer and then getting bagged ourselves while we’re admiring it.”

  Wil shifted the carcass a few more centimeters with a colossal heave. “Haven’t seen anyone all day,” he observed, grunting. “Nor any sign of anyone.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” Galen murmured, still scanning the trees.

  “Leave him be, Wil,” Relam added, threading the ropes through eye holes around the edge of the canvas. “He’s just trying to keep us safe.”

  Wil shrugged. “If you say so, sir.” He shifted the deer another few centimeters, centering it on the improvised sledge, and nodded, satisfied. “That should do it. If you pass me a few ropes, I can start hitchi
ng the horses up.”

  Relam obligingly tossed Wil the free ends of three ropes, then busied himself continuing to hitch up the canvas. Wil went to the horses and looped the ropes securely around the pommels of the saddles, chewing his lip as he thought about the best way to handle the problem.

  “We’ll have to hold the ropes out a bit to keep them from dragging over the horses’ flanks,” he muttered.

  “No problem,” Relam assured him. “The horses will be doing most of the pulling after all.” The prince stood back to admire his handiwork, tugging on a few of the lines to check them. “Not bad,” he muttered. Then, he turned decisively and climbed back into the saddle, holding the rope out to one side as Wil had recommended. “Let’s get back to Etares and see what my father found to bring back.”

  “Probably a boar,” Wil mused. “If he could find one.”

  “Going after boar with a throwing spear?” Galen asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “He’s the king, he has to be impressive,” Wil countered, shrugging.

  “That’s more than impressive, that’s risky and dangerous,” Relam muttered, hoping that his father had not gone after a boar. Not only would it mean that Relam would lose, but it would also place his father in grave danger of being gored severely.

  The small band of hunters set out for the road, dragging the deer behind them. The canvas sledge scraped the frozen forest floor, a dead, dragging weight behind the horses. The valiant steeds lowered their heads and drove their legs against the ground, turning the snow, their breath steaming in the air, their riders urging them on with words of encouragement. They made slow progress, but it had only been fifteen minutes when they emerged from the trees and onto the road.

  Relam let the rope go slack for a moment and dismounted, checking the deer. It had survived so far, despite the rough treatment, and the ropes appeared to be holding up fairly well. Relam glanced up at the sky, noting that there were two hours remaining before they were due back. The ride back to Etares would be only an hour or so under normal conditions, but Relam wasn’t sure how the weight of the deer would affect that.

  “We need to keep moving,” he announced.

  “It shouldn’t matter if we’re a couple minutes late,” Wil assured him.

  Relam nodded. “It shouldn’t, but I don’t want to be disqualified on a technicality.”

  Wil shrugged. “You’re the boss,” he said agreeably. “Lead on, and we’ll follow.”

  As Relam made to mount up again, he heard hoof beats approaching from the north. He frowned, listening, trying to guess at how many riders there were.

  “Upwards of twenty,” Galen murmured. “Eckle’s patrol maybe?”

  “Most likely,” Relam agreed.

  Then, the first riders rounded the bend and their suspicions were confirmed. Relam let out a sigh of relief and stepped forward to meet them.

  The cavalry ground to a halt, horses milling and stamping, men calling to one another. Eckle surged to the fore and looked down at Relam, frowning.

  “I take it this is your kill, your highness?”

  “It is,” Relam agreed.

  “Need a hand getting it back to Etares?”

  Relam shrugged. “If you have something better than a sledge, then by all means, lend a hand.”

  Eckle signaled and a small wagon emerged from the mass of riders. “Two were sent from Etares,” Eckle said, “Since nothing had been heard from you or his majesty. There was concern that without help you would not return in time.”

  “It was a long hunt,” Relam allowed, slashing the ropes holding the sledge to the horses with his dagger. “Wil, Galen, help me lift this.”

  They bundled the carcass of the deer in the canvas and staggered to the back of the cart, shoving the kill up and into the waiting hands of the driver, who helped them haul it the last few centimeters. When the carcass was secure, Relam and the others stepped back and remounted while the wagoner turned his wagon around and prepared to return to Etares.

  Are you coming with us?” Relam asked Eckle.

  “We’ll keep patrolling further down the road for your father,” the guard commander said, shaking his head. “If we find him, we’ll send a messenger back to let you know.”

  Relam nodded. “Thanks. If we see him on the way back, we’ll send a messenger as well. See you back at the capital.”

  Eckle bowed stiffly from his saddle and yanked on the reins, spinning his horse abruptly and shouting orders to his men. In an instant, riders were swirling around and past Relam and his guards, surging down the road in a wall of horse flesh. Meanwhile, the wagon began moving to the north, Relam and the others falling in behind.

  “Your father is certainly taking his time on this one, if he hasn’t been seen yet,” Wil observed.

  “It might have taken him longer to find something worth tracking,” Relam replied, shrugging. “Remember how long it took us to find those tracks? And then we got lucky that the deer we were tracking met up with another.”

  “True,” Galen agreed. “Even the best hunters can be foiled by a lack of tracks. If I know his majesty, he will never give up on the hunt. He will keep looking for a suitable prize right up until the last moment.”

  “And probably find one,” Wil added.

  “As long as it doesn’t beat mine,” Relam muttered. “And as long as he doesn’t take on something bigger than he can handle.”

  “Like what?” Wil asked, snorting. “There’s not much our king can’t handle.

  “Like a bear,” Relam shot back, worried.

  “Your father is a competitive man, but he is also smart,” Galen reassured the prince. “If he has a choice between a bear and defeat, I am sure he would choose defeat.”

  “I’m not,” Wil muttered. “I’d take the bear. Especially if the alternative was a public defeat at the hands of my son! Of course, I don’t have a son, but if I did losing to him would be absolutely humiliating!”

  Galen nudged his horse closer to Wil’s and kicked the other guardsman in the knee, interrupting his ruminations.

  “Ow!” Wil protested. “You could have done some serious damage there, mate.”

  “Quiet, Wil.”

  “But-”

  “I didn’t silence you to satisfy my own desires,” Galen added, quietly. Relam smiled slightly, guessing that Galen had lowered his voice so Relam would not overhear. But the prince heard and he was grateful to the taciturn guardsman.

  They rode in silence the rest of the way, the wagon plodding along ahead of them, the driver humming quietly to himself and occasionally snapping the reins. Relam gave his horse the freedom to choose its speed and path, checking it only occasionally as he let his mind wander. On either side, Wil and Galen rode silently, save for the sound of their horses’ hooves on the hard-packed earth of the road.

  As the sun was setting in the west, the small band arrived at the west gate of Etares. The portal was open wide to greet them, and thousands of people were massed just inside, waiting for the hunters return, cheering madly. Relam smiled and gave a jerky little wave, then quickly dismounted and turned to look back the way they had come. There was no sign of any following riders. In fact, there was no sign of any living thing between the city and the Midwood. He barely noticed as a stable hand came forward and led the horses away.

  “They’ll turn up,” Galen muttered, clapping Relam on the shoulder.

  Relam glanced up, just as the top edge of the sun flamed briefly across the top of the outer wall, then disappeared in a flash. “I hope so,” he murmured in reply.

  Several long, tense minutes passed. The crowd grew restless, pressing forward and craning their necks to get a better view of the gate and the flatlands beyond. Relam stared off towards the forest, jaw clenched and eyes blazing. Wil and Galen stood beside him, shifting uneasily.

  Finally, the sky went dark and the crowd began to disperse, wandering home with many a backward look at the still open west gate. There was nothing to see though. Everything had been swallowe
d by the night.

  “Your highness.”

  Relam turned and saw commander Hadere hovering nearby. “We have to close the gate,” he said apologetically. “There could be anything out there.”

  The prince nodded jerkily. “Then close it.”

  Hadere hesitated before nodding to his soldiers. The city guard swarmed into the two guardhouses and began turning the great windlasses. The portcullis began creeping downward, and the wooden doors began to swing shut. Relam watched until the portcullis scraped its way down into the ground and the gates boomed shut, then he let out a disappointed sigh.

  “Nothing to worry about, your highness,” Galen promised. “I’ll wager they come back in the morning. Probably didn’t want to get lost in the dark and made camp somewhere.”

  “Speaking of getting lost and making camp,” Wil broke in, “We should be getting home ourselves. Back to the palace, I mean, sir.”

  Relam nodded reluctantly and turned towards the distant bridge, following his guards back towards the east side of the city. They walked in silence, moving slowly, looking back every few paces. At the far end of the bridge, Relam stopped one last time to look back. But the gates were still closed. He turned onto the River Road and quickened his pace, worry gnawing relentlessly at his stomach.

  By the time they returned to the royal suite, Relam was nearly as emotionally bruised as he had been after his father had struck him weeks earlier. Where was the king? Was he hurt? Was he lost? And where was Eckle, his guard commander? Still searching, out in the woods somewhere?

  “Your highness, try to get some sleep,” Galen said as Relam made to enter his room. “It will do you a world of good. Especially seeing as you’ll likely have to address the kingdom tomorrow when you win the hunt.”

  “Aye,” Wil agreed. “There’s nothing to worry about. You’ll see, sir.”

  Relam glared at his guards, wondering how they could be so dense. “My father is the king,” he reminded them. “And you should know that there are people in this kingdom that would love for him to be removed from that lofty position.” He paused, looking back and forth between them. “There is plenty of cause for worry.”

 

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