by Vance Huxley
The whole party including the loaded ponies moved past the next valley and across the end of the chosen one. They ate a quick meal, and talked it through. “We can’t repeat that, we haven’t the room for the meat.”
“No Canitre, but that means we can take the prime prey this time.” Raban looked around the party. “We couldn’t do it again because we haven’t enough bows now.”
“True, and I’m one that won’t be much help.” Canitre carefully straightened his leg. “I’ll stay with Billi if he don’t mind an old man stealing a few targets.” He smiled. “I’ll have to rope myself to a tree as well.”
Billi smiled. “Having two bows will be easier, if you take one side of the valley. This one doesn’t give us such a good position anyway so we’ll be taking more time over the shots.”
Eddmune waved his spear. “I can use this and I’ll back up the youths at the entrance, because neither me nor Streak are up to running about.”
“I’ll sit on a pack and watch the rear because the ponies and meat might tempt something.” Nortan looked pale but determined. “We won’t have anyone on the ridges this time so that will speed up the butchering.”
“We’d best get to it then.” Mikkel nudged Hektor. “Remember to duck this time.”
“I’m pointing to you if another one turns up.” Hektor grinned because if another striped hunter lurked it would break for the ridges and not come near the bows and Hounds. Then his grin wavered. “We’ll want to be clear before that Great-Wolf or his friend turn up.”
“Hide and Hair, I hope so!” Raban waved everyone who could still walk and hunt forward. “Listen for the Hounds, then stop immediately.” This hunt might have been quieter, but not much though ‘twas much shorter. Billi wasn’t as busy, because he and Canitre concentrated on dropping the wounded or hitting prey who would be killed by a single arrow. Not a single injured animal made it through the limping Hounds and injured Hunters. Long before the line of Hunters and Hounds reached the head of the valley everyone heard the warning howl. Farimer called enough and the line worked back to the valley entrance finishing the wounded.
* * *
Mikkel came back to fetch Canitre, because Raban and he were old friends. Billi followed the pair to where Raban and Fleet lay. The story was plain even if Raban hadn’t been conscious enough to tell them. “It was yon boar.” A big, scarred veteran, the Boar showed the marks of tooth and spear but no arrows. “He waited in the bushes, and then charged at the last moment and put me down.” Raban took a pull on the cider someone had given him. “Fleet pulled him off but the beast gored him.” Raban paused again to stroke Fleet’s head where he’d been laid across Raban’s legs. The Hound opened his eyes and then closed them again. “I got my spear into him and Fleet came back for more, but you know boars. He died hard, and did for us both by the time he quit.”
The pony dragged the boar off to butcher it, and Canitre spoke quietly to the others. “Raban might make it, though he’ll be badly crippled. I have to offer.” He went back to the badly wounded Hunter. “We can put ye on a pony or travois, if ye wish?”
Five Hunters and their Hounds, including Billi and Rabbit, heard the reply. “I thank ye, but I’ll not be coming. Fleet won’t make it back, and I’ll not leave him to face the Wild alone.” Raban sighed. “I don’t fancy going out crippled and alone when it gets too much for me, so I’ll bide here.”
“We’ll see that Treese get her share, your share. I’ll stay back a moment if ye have a message for her.” Canitre, an old friend of Raban’s, stayed while the rest went back to skinning and butchering. When Canitre came out of the bushes, the Hunters and youths went in one at a time to say farewell.
“I’m sorry, Raban.”
“Nay Billi. We all knew the risk. My luck ran out, or the Wild wanted a price.” Raban stroked Fleet and the Hound’s ears twitched. “If we’d been hunting separately Eddmune and Nortan wouldn’t have made it either, and maybe some of the others with injured Hounds.” Raban managed a smile. “You stop worriting so much, catch yourself a fine maid, and drag her out to that valley.” Raban sighed and winced. “I would have liked to see that. What is it like?”
Billi spent a little time telling him, and then put a horn from a bull next to Raban. “A trophy.”
Raban tried for a smile. “I thank ye. Now get gone or the rest will wonder if you’ve keeled over as well.” They clasped and Billi left, though he had to take a moment or two before he could see clear enough to use a knife safely.
Grantel came back with the Hunter’s knives. “Raban says they’re for when my Hound arrives.” The blood lines for Grantel’s first kill were streaked with tears and he wasn’t the only one.
The Hunters went to say farewell, one by one with their Hounds. Each left a trophy tusk or horn so that the Wild would know what it had got, a true Hunter and Hound. Hektor came back with Raban’s bow and quiver to replace his wrecked bow. He came to sit and carry on the butchering next to Billi. “I told him. About the babe. Since he’ll not be there.”
“I told him about the valley, since he’ll not see that.” They worked in silence, as did the rest, though everyone still hurried because the feast two valleys up wasn’t keeping all the scavengers occupied.
Canitre went back last, and by the time he came out the rest were lined up and ready to go. “Raban says he’ll make them pay for the meal. We’ve to look for the skulls next year and if we can’t find Fleet’s we’ve to let Raban’s bide here. Raban says it’ll be a comfort for Treese if they’re both on Skull Rock, but he don’t want to be on there alone.” Canitre had trouble getting it out so nobody asked anymore, and the ponies were urged into motion.
* * *
Despite all the meat ‘twas a sombre trek home. Everyone knew that if they’d been told at the start that one Hunter and Hound would die for this bounty they’d still have come. They’d even planned for if nobody came back, but a Hunter always hoped to beat the Wild or why be a Hunter? Raban’s lass, Treese, would be broken-hearted. Raban’s heirs were both bonded so only the young man and his lass were still in the family home with her and the house would seem empty without both Hunter and Hound. Raban had a big enough farm for the family to live well enough, but they’d miss the Hunter’s catch next winter. Not this winter, as they’d still get Raban’s share of course.
Everyone ignored the sound of the scavengers gathering. From the sounds many were capable of catching their own but would welcome a free meal. Raban hadn’t asked for the mercy stroke, but if Fleet passed on before the Wild closed in Raban might do it himself. If Hunter and Hound were still conscious, the meal might not be free. There was no way of knowing as the party drew further away from the fighting and feasting.
As they sat around their fires the first night of the trek home a deep echoing roar announced a Great-Hunter arriving for his share. “That really is a Great-Hunter this time, isn’t it?” Hektor looked over at Billi, since last time he’d drawn the pug mark.
“That’s a Great-Hunter, but not the one I’ve heard before.”
“You’ve heard a Great-Hunter often enough to recognise the roar?” Eddmune shook his head. “Now I’m glad I’ve never been tempted to look for those fish of yours.”
“Is the Great-Hunter near your fish Billi?” Others moved closer, waiting for the answer to Eddmune’s question.
“Why do you think I’m so careful about putting the tithe well away from the landclaim?” Billi smiled. He would let them have a bit of information because that would take all their minds off who they’d left behind. “From the stride I don’t want to tangle, not ever.”
Billi had to draw the pug mark in the snow again, and Hektor placed a paw from the striped hunter inside it. That sobered them all. “The same as the other Great-beasts then, maybe double the size?”
“I reckon. It picked up a bear carcass I left, after I’d stripped the meat of course, and carried the lot off into the night.” Billi didn’t want anyone getting ambitious.
“You
youngsters pay heed. Yon striped Hunter was still getting up to finish the job after shrugging off two shafts and Dapple. If ye see a track like this, let it go.” Despite being pale-faced with pain Nortan wanted to make a very serious point, and one after the other the young Hunters and youths nodded agreement. The paw sat inside Billi’s pug mark didn’t need much more explaining.
They tried to sleep but the night echoed again as both the Great-Wolf and then the smaller Great-Cat turned up again. There were no sounds of strife between the large carnivores so they’d found enough to share. In the morning the black cloud of wheeling birds made it clear the scavengers hadn’t finished, and that cloud stayed visible until late afternoon. The group weren’t making great progress and it wasn’t Billi slowing them up this time.
Canitre had a lightened pack and a branch to help him walk, and he limped along with Billi so he could get lessons from the expert. Nortan’s leg might be broken in several places and even with a splint he couldn’t manage on a crutch. The Hunter sat on a pony, clinging to it white-faced at every bump and jar. Cider might have been helping but not enough as he had the same problem as most men on a pony. The sturdy little beasts were so low a man had to hold his legs up and forward to ride them. At least Nortan could use the loops of rope fixed up to help Billi on the way out, but the rope wasn’t gentle on his leg. Nortan would have looked comical with the big splint jutting out one side if it wasn’t for the suppressed exclamations now and then.
The rest of the wounded limped, hobbled and winced their way with a travois if they could, or lugging the biggest pack they were capable of. Several had slings for sprained elbows and shoulders, and one for a broken forearm. Three more had made crutches to help them walk. Oddly enough there were still only the two broken fingers though one youth had three broken toes which had been stamped on by a Bull.
The walking wounded included several Hounds since it had been fast and bloody in there a few times. Rabbit wasn’t the only one operating three-legged, though the others should get back to four in time even if one had a splint. A good few Hounds would have scars, and two would be impressive. Dapple had a long line down his flank and Farimer’s Midnight had four gashes across his shoulder and down his ribcage from a dappled hunter. Both were bound up after the wounds were cleaned but couldn’t move any faster than the injured men. At least nobody would need to hunt again for a while.
The group slept out three more nights, in a circle of fires each time while bright, hungry eyes peered from the gloom. Hunger or greed added two tawny skins and a bit of extra meat to the loads when a pair of lionesses became too eager. They knew these pair were lions because the Hunters glimpsed the male roared from the shadows, too wary to come into the light. Now everyone knew that lions came from towards the highlands or maybe on them, which at any other time would have meant excited discussion. Twice the relatively fit split off to hunt for meat to feed Hunters and Hounds so that the full loads would get back. The last night they ate some of the catch since they were near enough to home for there to be no game.
* * *
By the time the first pony left the Forest, some of the minor bruising and aches had eased but the deeper ones were biting harder. Billi’s left arm felt sore and had stiffened, and he’d torn the callouses from his fingers pulling his bow again and again. His one knee really felt the weight of the big pack now, as did the shoulder with the crutch. Rabbit had lost his bounce, and his weariness threaded through his song.
Some Hounds ran ahead and the fittest young Hunters dumped their travois and packs and dashed off, the Hounds baying joyfully to let everyone know they were back. Hounds never grieved for long except for their own Hunter, but then they died of it. As with most of the Wild, death was the way of life to Hounds. The party gathered in a loose group as, one by one, they stepped out onto the Farm and could relax a little. All of them felt relieved that they’d made it without spending another night out, though only just, as the shadows were lengthening.
Before long ponies, men and youths with spare packs trotted across the snow-covered fields to relieve the Hunters and their ponies of their burdens. The runners had told the villagers about Raban and Fleet which muted the celebration but couldn’t stop it entirely. The mound after mound of fresh meat following the men and ponies out of the trees or humped above the shoulders of the men would ensure a good wake for the Hunter. In that at least the Winter Hunt had succeeded. There would be no slaughtering of stock beasts this winter, and no littluns with hungry, pinched faces. Not a bad legacy for a Hunter and Hound.
Treese, Raban’s lass, came with tear-stained face and listened while Canitre spoke to her quietly. Then she turned to the group busy with repackaging meat and skins. “I’ll miss them both, but ‘tis how they would want it.” She gestured out at the Forest. “Together, out in the Forest and facing the Wild at the last. I will be obliged if the Hunters look for their skulls next year as ‘twould be a comfort to me. To know we’ll be together on the Rock when my time comes.” Treese left quickly, which allowed the others be welcomed properly and the villagers to celebrate and gloat at the bounty.
The Hunters sorted out Treese’s share. “I’ll take my lass and we’ll deliver the meat and skins, Raban’s share. We’ll get it all dressed out and stored properly.” Canitre looked drawn and pale and some might be grief and not just his leg from the look of his face.
“I’ll come to help.” Farimer sighed. “I’ve known them both a while. We’ll let Raban’s family know the full story.”
“Thank ye, Farimer. ‘Tis hard on a Hunter’s lass, knowing how it is betwixt Hunter and Hound, yet never being part of it. Knowing of the call of the Forest and the Wild, yet never hearing it.” Canitre sighed as well. “Knowing that if the Hound dies, her man will likely walk out one day with a spear and never come home.”
“Aye.” Farimer’s smile had little humour in it. “‘Tis a wonder to me that my lass ever agreed to a bonding.” The two turned to organising the packing of Raban’s share as well as their own.
Ellibeth met Billi at the gate and for a moment he thought he’d be getting another hug. Ellibeth stopped her half-move, glanced round, and went to the growing pile of fur and meat. “I thought it must be you when so many Hounds started, Billi. They sounded so happy. I’ve got bread in the oven, since I’ve kept dough ready these last two days.” She smiled happily. “Since you like my bread.”
“I do indeed, and I’ve missed it.” Billi tousled Rubyn’s head. “I hope you’ve been tending the traps?”
“I have Billi, and...”
“You can stand guard on this if you’ve done strangling Billi’s leg. You can tell him in the warm, in peace, when this lot is safe inside.” Ellibeth cut off Rubyn’s recital before it got started. “Keep Spots off it since he’s taken to raw meat these last few days.”
Guarding the meat, dealing with Spots, and helping to move skins and furs indoors slowed but didn’t stop Rubyn’s tale. He replayed every single trap laid and every single skin taken and how brilliant his knife was and how well he was doing with the skinning and how many rats One-shut had taken and how many of them Spots had eaten and how many eggs the chickens laid and….
The constant torrent of excitement continued as Perry also arrived and helped bring Billi’s share inside. Then Perry ran off to help Timath with Hektor’s share. Billi got his coat and jacket and then his boot off, and the weight off his leg at last. By then there a drop of warm cider sat on the table, waiting.
“I’ll start with this.” Ellibeth gestured to the haunches and legs and cuts of meat roughly wrapped in raw hides. “At least it was cold enough to keep it all fresh. Some is nigh on frozen.” Ellibeth sharpened a couple of Billi’s cooking knives and put the first haunch on the table for jointing.
“Here Ellibeth. I’ll give you a hand in a moment, but meanwhile these are better for the job.” Billi took off his belt with his hunting and skinning knives and passed it over.
Ellibeth pulled out a knife to give it an apprai
sing look, and her eyes widened. “This is pretty, and I know that means a good blade though I’ve never seen a big one before.” She glanced at the rest of the sheaths for the different sizes and widths. “Are they all the same, like those that you gave my bros at Midwinter?”
Billi laughed. “They are so now you know my secret, what I spoil myself with. A few might want a bit of an edge put on them since we were in a hurry to get away after the butchering.”
“If you sharpen them, I’ll get started. Then you can tell me about it while I work.” She chuckled. “It will be a real pleasure with knives like this. Rubyn you stay clear of these or they’ll have a finger off. Sit down with Spots and give Rabbit some fuss. He’s been out in the cold and he’ll be tired as well.” Rabbit was tired and Billi could feel the Hound’s appreciation of the fire, and Rubyn stroking him and playing with his ears.
Billi tried to help but Ellibeth insisted that he needed to rest, especially when she caught him favouring his left arm. Soon enough she took the fresh bread out of the oven and smiled as Billi breathed in the smell. “Just give it a minute to cool, enough so it doesn’t collapse when it’s cut. I’ll just grill a few bits to go with it. A bit of liver, some kidney, and some thin slices of venison.”
“Only if you sit two minutes and eat as well, else I’ll feel guilty.” Billi did feel a bit guilty though this really felt sort of homely with Ellibeth fussing around like this. He quickly steered his mind away from maids and homely and Midwinter bussing.
“Just for a minute. Rubyn, scrub your hands first if you’ve been rummaging through those pockets full of teeth.” Ellibeth poured water for hand scrubbing and by then the butter had warmed and the meat grilled.
