“A few,” Longbow replied.
“Are you sure you can tell the difference between a poisoned arrow and a clean one?”
Longbow nodded. “The clean ones have white feathers. The dirty ones are red.” Then he frowned slightly. “Or is it the other way around?” he added without the slightest hint of a smile.
It was still dark in the forest when Athlan woke up the following morning, roused by the sound of Longbow stirring up the fire. “Isn’t it just a bit early?” he asked.
“Probably not,” Longbow replied quietly. “I’m not at all familiar with the deer up here in the north, but the ones on down the coast feed at night and return to their bedding places at first light. If we happen to be in the right place at the right time, we’ll have fresh meat before the sun rises. Smoke-cured meat is all right, I suppose, but I’m starting to get hungry for real meat.”
“I shall be guided by you in this,” Athlan vowed quite formally.
“I think you might have been spending too much time with the elders of your tribe, Athlan.”
“We’re supposed to honor them, aren’t we? That doesn’t mean that we have to pay any attention to them, of course, but we should respect them.”
“I suppose so. Are all the deer up here of the same kind? We have two fairly different kinds of deer in the western forest. The timid ones aren’t quite as large as the stupid ones, and their antlers are more evenly matched. They also run smoothly. The larger, silly ones bounce when they run.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a silly deer.”
“They always run uphill, and after they’re fifty or so paces above you, they stop and look back to see what you’re doing.”
“That would be sort of silly, I suppose.”
“They also have much bigger ears. In some ways they almost look like a rabbit with horns.”
“We don’t have any deer up here that look like that,” Athlan said. “I’d say that our deer are the timid ones. The reindeer off to the north gather up in very large herds, so if you see one of them, there are probably several hundred in the same region. The meat doesn’t taste as good as the meat of our deer, so I wouldn’t waste any arrows on them.”
“If you’re ready, we might as well go to the hunt.”
“Aren’t you going to eat breakfast first?”
Longbow shook his head. “I always hunt better when I’m just a bit hungry, don’t you?”
“Well—maybe, but I start to get just a bit shaky if I go too long without eating.”
There was a faint band of light along the eastern horizon as the two of them moved quietly out into the forest of enormous trees.
“Maybe we should stop for a while and give our eyes a chance to adjust to the dark before we go much farther,” Longbow suggested in a soft voice. “Fire’s nice, I suppose, but it does peculiar things to a hunter’s eyes, or had you noticed that?”
“Oh, yes,” Athlan agreed. “Any time I walk away from a campfire after dark, I have to hold my hands out in front of me to keep from bumping into trees. Trees absolutely hate it when you bump into them in the dark.”
They moved quietly through the forest as the dim light of dawn gradually increased among the huge trees.
“Not very many bushes,” Longbow observed, looking around.
“The needles from these trees have been piling up for a long time,” Athlan explained. “That pretty much chokes out any late-coming plants. Their seeds won’t sprout if they don’t reach dirt, and I’d say that the layer of needles we’re walking on right now is at least three feet thick. Are there many bushes down in your part of the Land of Dhrall?”
“The brush cover’s fairly dense along the coast,” Longbow replied. He shrugged. “It gives the deer and other animals plenty of food to eat, so I guess it’s all right.”
“The deer around here have to do their grazing in the meadows. There’s a fairly large meadow just on ahead of us. I thought we might want to have a look at that one first. There are several other meadows nearby, but the one just ahead is closer to our camp, so if we take a few deer there, we won’t have to drag them so far. I always do my best to make life easier.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with that,” Longbow replied.
They stepped across a narrow brook that wandered through the deep forest, and Athlan saw the edge of the meadow about a hundred paces ahead. “We’re coming up on that meadow I was telling you about,” he whispered.
“I sort of thought we might be,” Longbow replied softly. “I’ve been catching a faint smell of deer for a little while.”
Athlan sniffed at the air. “I think you might be right,” he agreed. “Your nose must be almost as sharp as your eyes, Longbow.”
They crouched down at the edge of the forest and looked out at the meadow.
“It’s still just a little too dark,” Athlan whispered. “I’d say that we’re about a quarter of an hour early.”
“Better early than late,” Longbow replied.
“What a clever thing to say,” Athlan declared sardonically. “That’s almost as good as ‘the early bird gets the worm.’ Of course, I don’t eat worms very often, so it doesn’t hurt my feelings too much if I happen to miss them.”
The darkness gradually faded as the light along the eastern horizon grew almost imperceptibly brighter.
“They’re out there, all right,” Athlan said. “I can make out four or five deer already.”
“Fairly small, though,” Longbow replied, “probably just fawns. The bigger ones are most likely farther out in the meadow.”
“I’m starting to get hungry, Longbow,” Athlan complained.
“Breakfast’s only about a hundred paces away, Athlan,” Longbow assured him.
Athlan could see farther out into the meadow now, and he was a bit surprised by how many deer were grazing out there, and it seemed that every time he blinked, there were still more.
“That one,” Longbow declared. “It’s just on the other side of that tree snag.”
Athlan peered out into the meadow and finally located the large, massively antlered deer Longbow had chosen. “He’s a big one, all right,” he whispered, “but he’s a long way out there, don’t you think?”
“I can reach him,” Longbow said confidently.
“Now this I want to see,” Athlan said. “I wouldn’t waste an arrow trying to hit a deer who’s that far away.”
“You should learn to trust your bow, Athlan,” Longbow said, slowly rising to his feet and peering on out across the still dimly lighted meadow. Then he nocked an arrow and smoothly drew his bow. Then he released it, and his arrow arced out over the meadow in the faint predawn light and struck the large deer he had chosen. The deer dropped as if the ground had suddenly been cut out from under him.
“Amazing!” Athlan exclaimed. “I’ve never seen a shot like that before! That deer had to be at least two hundred paces away.”
“Closer to two hundred and fifty,” Longbow replied. “Of course, there’s no wind blowing, and that made it easier. Did you want to take one as well, Athlan? There are still plenty of deer out there.”
“The one you just took should be enough, Longbow. It’s a fair distance back to our camp, and your deer’s probably heavy enough to wear us both out by the time we drag him there. Of course, I suppose we could just camp where he’s lying and eat on him for the next week or so.”
Longbow shook his head. “Let’s get him back in the shade,” he said. “If we leave him out in the sun, he’ll start to rot before too long.”
It took the two of them until almost noon to drag the heavy deer back to their camp, and then they went through the tedious process of skinning the large buck-deer.
“How in the world did you ever learn to shoot arrows that accurately, Longbow?” Athlan asked. “Was it maybe Dahlaine’s sister who gave you instructions?”
“I’ve never met Zelana,” Longbow replied. “She doesn’t really like people, so she went off to the Isle of Thurn a long time
ago.”
“Now that’s very unusual,” Athlan said. “Dahlaine—her older brother—wanders around up here in the north country all the time. He comes up with a lot of silly ideas, and we’re supposed to obey his orders. You don’t need to tell anybody that I said this, but the gods are very foolish sometimes.”
“As far as I’m concerned, they can be just as foolish as they want to be,” Longbow replied. “I know what I’m supposed to be doing. I kill the creatures of the Wasteland, and I’ll keep on killing them until I’m old and grey. It’s the only reason that I’m alive, and if I stay at it long enough, I might be able to kill them all.” There was a kind of intensity in Longbow’s voice and a bleak look on his face that sort of filled Athlan with awe.
They remained in their forest camp for the next several days, and then Longbow decided that it was time for him to take his canoe and go on back home.
Athlan stood on the sandy beach watching as his strange new friend paddled his canoe on out into deeper water and turned south. For some reason, Athlan was almost positive that they’d meet again. “And maybe next time, I’ll be the one who takes the deer,” he muttered to himself.
2
Early in the autumn of that year Athlan discovered a small cave in the south side of a wooded hillock a mile or so to the south of Statha. After some thought, he decided to abandon his lodge out in the forest and move into the cave. Lodges were traditional in Tonthakan, of course, but Athlan was positive that a cave could not fall down no matter how strongly the wind blew.
Winter held off for some reason that year, and the hunting was very good in the vicinity of Athlan’s new home. He was quite certain that his new residence was the finest place for him to dwell in all the world.
It was just after the first significant snow in that year when a young hunter named Zathal came through the forest to advise Athlan that his father had recently died. “It didn’t seem to anybody that he was sick or anything like that, Athlan,” Zathal said. “He was busy chipping out some new arrowheads, and he suddenly grabbed his chest and then fell over dead. Chief Kathlak sent me out here to find you and to tell you that we’ll go through the burial ceremony tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.”
“Tell Kathlak that I’ll be there,” Athlan replied shortly.
The ceremony took most of the day, naturally. Athlan’s father had been a mighty hunter, and the men of the tribe made many speeches praising him. The sun was nearing the western horizon when the ceremony concluded, and Chief Kathlak joined Athlan at the side of the grave. “Will you be returning to Statha now?” he asked.
“I don’t believe so, My Chief,” Athlan replied.
“The fathers of the young women of the tribe won’t pester you now, Athlan. Your time of grief will last for as long as you want it to. You can keep them away from you, if that’s what’s bothering you.”
“That’s not why I won’t be coming back, My Chief. I’ve found a quiet place to live, and the hunting’s very good there. In a peculiar sort of way, I’m almost grateful that those fathers drove me away from Statha. I’m a hunter now, and I don’t need—or want—company. If a war comes along, I’ll be here to help as best I can. Otherwise, I’d prefer to be left alone.”
“What do you want us to do with your father’s lodge?”
Athlan shrugged. “Give it to somebody who needs it—or tear it down. It doesn’t matter to me. Be well, My Chief.”
And then he turned and went back into the forest.
Early the next spring, Longbow returned to the land of the Tonthakans, and he found Athlan’s cave without much difficulty. “Have you decided to become a bear, Athlan?” he asked. “Taking a long nap might be nice, I suppose, but I’m fairly sure that your stomach will start to growl at you after a few weeks.”
“It gets windy around here, Longbow,” Athlan explained, “but almost never windy enough to blow a cave down.”
“I see your point,” Longbow replied. “Is the hunting good around here?”
“Very good. We’re far enough away from any village that the deer don’t even realize that we want to eat them. When they’re hungry enough, they’ll even graze in the meadows in broad daylight. That means that I don’t have to get up in the middle of the night anymore.”
“You’re lazy, Athlan.”
“I need my sleep, Longbow. I am just a growing boy, you know.”
“The trouble there is that you’ve stopped growing up. Now you’re starting to grow out. Give it a couple more years, and you won’t be able to squeeze through your cave mouth anymore.”
“Did you want to go hunting,” Athlan asked, “or would you rather stand around making funny remarks?”
“Lead the way, friend Athlan,” Longbow replied.
It was several years later when Dahlaine came to the Tonthakan Nation to advise the archers that the Domain of his younger sister Zelana had been invaded by the creatures of the Wasteland. Athlan was fairly sure that Longbow was having a wonderful time by now, but he had other things on his mind just then. Dahlaine’s “Nation” idea was beginning to fall apart. Old Chief Dalthak was pretty much over the hill now, and Kathlak had discarded his previous practice of pretending to discuss matters with his father and had begun to issue commands without “consultation,” and right now the Deer Hunter Tribes needed a leader who knew what he was doing. There had recently been a number of incursions into Deer Hunter territory by the Reindeer Hunters, and they refused to explain why.
In keeping with Dahlaine’s “Rules,” Kathlak issued a call for an “Emergency Meeting” to track down and correct any problems. The Bear Hunter Tribes came to the village of Statha to attend the meeting, but the Reindeer Hunter Tribes didn’t bother. The raucous chieftains of the mountain-dwelling Bear Hunter Tribes suggested what seemed to Athlan to be the best response. A few punitive incursions into Reindeer Land would quite probably get Dahlaine’s immediate attention, and then he could deal with the matter. From Athlan’s point of view, that was one of the obligations of the gods.
Kathlak didn’t see it that way, unfortunately. It appeared that he was willing to go along with Dahlaine’s absurd “Nation” idea. Peace was nice enough, Athlan conceded, but every now and then, peace didn’t work, and it seemed to Athlan that the Reindeer Hunters had decided to fall back on the good old idea of war.
The “Emergency Meeting” didn’t accomplish much, and the Reindeer Hunters continued their raids down into Deer country, burning villages, killing men, and abducting women. Athlan and his friends began to make preparations for an extended war to teach the Reindeer Hunter Tribes a few lessons about good manners.
The incursions of the Reindeer Tribes into Deer Hunter territory continued throughout the rest of the spring and well into the summer, while sketchy, and probably exaggerated, reports of the wars in the West and South arrived from time to time.
It was quite obvious to Athlan that Kathlak was keeping a tight lid on his anger about the incursions of the Reindeer Tribes into Deer Tribe territory. Dahlaine’s establishment of the “Nations” had been intended to bring peace, and Kathlak was doing his best to keep that peace intact. To Athlan’s way of looking at things, however, Kathlak’s refusal to retaliate just encouraged the Reindeer Tribes.
It was about midsummer when Athlan came up with a way to avoid direct retaliation while still letting the Reindeer Tribes know that their incursions were a very bad idea.
“All right, then,” he told a goodly number of his friends one hot summer day when they’d gathered in the forest to discuss the matter, “Chief Kathlak has ordered us not to retaliate, but he didn’t say a word about ‘defend,’ did he?”
“Not that I remember,” the young archer named Zathal said. “What did you have in mind, Athlan?”
“There are only four or five trails leading down from Reindeer Land into Deer Land,” Athlan explained, “and not really all that many villages up there. If we had a good number of archers hidden in the woods near those trails and villages, a very large
number of those intruders from Reindeer Land could suddenly turn up dead, wouldn’t you say? We don’t really have to go up into Reindeer Land to find targets, since the Reindeer Hunters are coming on down here. All we’d have to do is wait for them and then kill them before they can even set fire to the villages. We know that country up there much better than they do, so we’ll have all the advantage. I don’t think we should waste time shouting war cries or any of the other things people do when they’re fighting with each other. Just drive arrows into them and then disappear back into the forest. We won’t violate the border of Reindeer Land, but we will stop them dead in their tracks when they come across our border. There might be a hundred or so of them that’ll come across that border, but I’d say that they’ll be very lucky if two or three manage to get home again. The Reindeer Tribes aren’t really all that bright, but I think they’ll get the point—eventually.”
“Would it offend you if I made a suggestion, Athlan?” young Zathal asked.
“Probably not. What did you have in mind, Zathal?”
“Dead things start to rot after a while, and they don’t smell very nice. After we’ve killed those Reindeer Hunters, we could drag them all on up to the border and just leave them there. The wind usually comes up from the south at this time of the year, so after a little while, that border area’s going to stink pretty bad, don’t you think? That stink might persuade the Reindeer Hunters to go play somewhere else, wouldn’t you say?”
“It would make it easy to find the border, Athlan,” another young archer said, “even in the dark.”
“I like it!” Athlan said. “Let’s do it that way.”
Crystal Gorge: Book Three of the Dreamers Page 13
