Path of the Specialist

by Pedro Urvi

  “Animals look for the most efficient way of getting their food,” Lasgol said.

  “Dropping it involved the least effort for the eagle,” Luca agreed.

  “That’s what Master Gisli told me. It’s the law of survival in the animal kingdom. But even so, I can’t get it out of my head.”

  “Don’t worry, it’ll pass,” Axe told her. He gave her a friendly pat on her back.

  “Yeah, I know. Now I have to have a quick dinner and get back to studying. There’s so much I still have to learn!”

  “This girl’s going to go far,” Axe said when she had left. “I haven’t seen anybody study so much for a long time.”

  “Well,” Luca said, “Frida spends the day buried in her tomes too.”

  “True.”

  “They’ll both go far,” Axe said confidently.

  “They deserve it,” said Lasgol. He admired all the effort and tenacity that were required to spend the days studying.

  They went on with their dinner, chatting animatedly about everything they were learning and how much they were enjoying their Wildlife specialization with Master Gisli. There were days when they spent most of their time traveling through forests and mountains to find a suitable spot for the lesson, which made things even more interesting.

  Over the next four weeks Lasgol visited Ilsa and her three cubs daily. Gisli always went with him to make sure that the link between Lasgol and the panther developed appropriately. The amount of knowledge he was picking up by spending so much time with the Elder astonished him. And he was deeply grateful. Erika was jealous, because she had to spend days studying the tomes of knowledge about animals, while he was enjoying more direct and practical, hands-on learning with the Elder. Lasgol reminded her that she too was enjoying the privilege of spending time alone with Gisli and having private lessons tailored to her specialty. Her response was that she spent more time with books than with the Elder, and he had to agree with her.

  As the days went by he had noticed that Ilsa now hissed at him less aggressively, even letting him play with the feisty cub when it turned on her. The other cubs did not trust him yet, although he was also making advances with them. The most amazing thing was that Ilsa had not attacked him – not a scratch, not a nip, nothing – and this perplexed him. He knew it was because he was following Gisli’s instructions with the utmost care, but still... Just in case, he always kept a distance from the panther, a respectful distance.

  “The Snow Panther is a majestic animal,” Gisli would tell him as he watched Ilsa in her lair. They were sitting three paces away from the great cat and her three cubs. Ilsa watched them meanwhile with her jade-green eyes.

  “It really is,” Lasgol agreed. “All the great cats are. They’re impressive. Their fur is beautiful... grey-white, with darker stripes and spots... I’m surprised by how soft and incredibly thick it is.”

  “They need it to stay warm in winter on the mountains and to camouflage themselves amid snow and rocks. That’s why they’re such good predators. Some trappers hunt them for their fur. More than one of those ruthless thugs have got what they deserved. Snow Panthers may not be as big as a tiger or a lion, but they’re exceptionally strong and agile.”

  “And aggressive...”

  “Yes, they’re aggressive and territorial. That’s why it’s so difficult to whisper to them.”

  “Talk to them?”

  “It’s more than talking to them, it’s making them understand us. We call it ‘whispering’. And don’t confuse it with taming, because it’s not the same thing at all. We whisper to animals, we earn their trust and we establish a link of friendship and respect.”

  “I understand, Master.”

  “Good.” Gisli pointed to Ilsa’s legs. “Did you know that their paws, because they’re cushioned and wide, act as snow boots? They help them to walk easily over the white cloaks of snow.”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  “They’re the kings and queens among the mountain hunters. Silent, strong, lethal. Their huge paws and long tail allow them to maintain their balance on steep mountain slopes where other predators would fall to their deaths.”

  “Their four legs are big compared to the rest of the body, and their tails are very long and thick.”

  “Did you know that they use it to keep warm in winter?”

  “The tail?”

  “That’s right. It’s so thick, long and furry, it’s like a blanket.”

  “I didn’t know that...”

  “They’re predators that can catch animals three times their size.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  “The most impressive thing is their leap. I’d say it’s one of the longest among all the cats.”

  “That long?”

  “It certainly is. It attacks its quarry when it’s unaware and falls on it with a great leap. That’s why it’s such a good hunter – the quarry doesn’t see or hear it until it’s upon it, and by then it’s too late.”

  The rebellious cub came up to Lasgol. With a leap it fell on his leg and attacked it as if it were hunting. He felt the impact of its little teeth, but he bore the pain while the cub writhed and played with his boot. He smiled and stroked its head, and the cub clawed at him playfully. He let it attack his arm.

  “It seems to like you.”

  “Yeah, it loves playing with my arms and legs...”

  “When it grows strong and powerful, it’ll roam the mountains alone, hunting like a lethal predator.”

  “Completely alone?”

  Gisli nodded. “They’re solitary animals, independent. A male has a wide hunting territory, and other males won’t cross it to avoid risking a fight. They only get together in the mating season.”

  “For some reason I had the idea that they went around in small groups.”

  The Elder shook his head. “There are many things you’ll learn about the king feline of the mountains.”

  “Isn’t the white tiger the king?”

  “Not in the high mountains. The tiger doesn’t have the agility and grip of a Snow Panther. The Panther can hunt mountain goats on a steep hill, the tiger can’t.”

  “And in the plains and lower mountains?”

  “The White Tiger has the advantage there,” said Gisli, with a wink.

  One of the things they always did was to take Ilsa some food so that she would not have to go hunting. That way they could spend more time with her. This also helped the panther to trust Lasgol a little more with every visit, since he posed no threat and brought her the food she needed for her cubs. Today they had brought her a buck Lasgol had caught; this, as Gisli had told him, was her favorite. While the family devoured the carcass, Gisli explained the technique for earning Ilsa’s trust so that she would accept him.

  He watched the mother sharing the kill with her cubs, which must have been around four months old now, because they were no longer suckling. He was happy to be there, enjoying the scene. So far Ilsa was not rejecting him, which meant that he was doing the right things, and this pleased him immensely.

  “And so that she comes to respect me?” he asked Gisli.

  “That technique needs a little more time. I’ll explain that later.”

  Lasgol nodded. “And so that she comes to trust me?”

  “You’re in a hurry to learn, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, being here with them is amazing. It’s a real experience, and it gladdens my heart.”

  “I understand you perfectly. Trust is the most complicated part. Not everybody manages it. You need to have an innate ability for it. We’ll see how you do when the time comes.”

  Lasgol nodded and was thoughtful. He had always felt that being a Beast Whisperer would be a very difficult specialty, a very exciting one and a unique experience. But the reality was surpassing all his expectations. When the cubs had finished eating, they rested, and he watched them with their mother. The picture of the family sleeping peacefully beside him filled him with peace and serenity. He smiled, feeling very
happy.

  For another four weeks he visited the family every day. Now that the cubs were a little older, Ilsa let him play with them. Or rather, she had no choice, since the cubs were hyperactive and it was becoming impossible to make them obey her. They played with one another all the time and jumped on Lasgol the moment their mother was distracted. Ilsa had stopped scolding them when they played with him. Ona, as he had decided to name the most active, mischievous and garrulous of them – she had turned out to be female – never missed an opportunity to attack him. Luckily it was in play, and their claws and fangs were not yet fully developed. Even so, more than once Lasgol went back to the Lair covered in scratches and bites. Astrid had told him several times that although she was not the jealous type, all those scratches on his face and arms were beginning to arouse her suspicions.

  “Today we’re going to test the link,” Gisli told him when they were at Ilsa’s cave.

  Lasgol was rather worried about this. He did not want to make any mistakes and lose all the progress he had achieved so far, but neither did he want Ilsa to attack him. That would be terrible.

  “How?” he asked apprehensively.

  “Today we’re going to go hunting with the family.”

  So far they had not accompanied Ilsa when she went hunting, teaching her cubs as she did so. Gisli had explained to him that it was still too soon to take that particular step. Lasgol was glad to have reached this point; he only hoped everything would go well.

  “Is it really time?”

  “I think so.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Behave like one of them and don’t say a word.”

  “All right.”

  Ilsa took her cubs outside, and they began to walk east in search of a quarry. Lasgol and Gisli followed them, but instead of going back to the Lair with the others as they usually did, they went after the family of cats. Ilsa stopped, looked at them and protested, as if asking them what they were doing. Gisli and Lasgol, crouching, stopped where they were. Gisli did not look at Ilsa, so Lasgol followed his example. The cubs watched them curiously, but stayed close to their mother.

  The snow panther went on. The cubs stayed close to her, watching, learning, curious about what was happening at every step. They walked in imitation of their mother, who moved with the elegance and stealth of all great cats. There was no doubt that the cubs had their mother’s instincts, but now they were learning her technique and skill in moving across the terrain, avoiding enemies like humans, and making a kill that would feed them for several days.

  Gisli and Lasgol followed at a crouch, making no noise. Ilsa reached a stream, and after inspecting it and sniffing the earth, she drank. The cubs did the same. While they drank, Ilsa glanced back at the two humans defiantly. Gisli and Lasgol went to the stream and drank unobtrusively. Ilsa did not seem very pleased, but she did not reject them. She went on sniffing her surroundings, and then Lasgol noticed that she was going into the forest after a small quarry: probably a squirrel or a wild rabbit.

  With a single leap she climbed on to the low branch of a tree. The three cubs imitated their mother, and although they did not manage to reach the branch at the first attempt, they kept trying until they did. The first one to do so was the rebel, Ona, who climbed the tree-trunk by digging her claws into the bark. She reached her mother, and her two siblings followed. The agility the little ones were already beginning to show impressed Lasgol.

  Gisli made a sign to him, and they hid under the tree from which Ilsa was looking out into the underbrush. They waited for a long while, but nothing seemed to be happening. Ilsa and the cubs were waiting, and it was as if the panther knew something they did not. Lasgol guessed that she was stalking some animal, and he was not mistaken. Suddenly she gave a great leap from the branch and fell on to a boar which had not been aware of the hunter’s presence. It shrieked and tried to turn and flee, but Ilsa dug her teeth into the animal’s neck. With the strength of her legs she brought it down on to its side and held it fast so that it could not escape. After a few moments of struggle, it was all over.

  The cubs came down to see their mother finish the kill.

  Gisli and Lasgol approached in their turn, with care. It was a complicated moment, because Ilsa had her catch and might misinterpret their approach. She looked at them and hissed in warning. Gisli squatted down so that she would not feel threatened, and Lasgol did the same. They kept still, wanting her to see that they had no intention of stealing her catch. There was a tense moment. Ilsa glared at them with her green eyes, at Lasgol in particular, and showed her fangs. Lasgol lowered his own gaze and did not move at all. They waited until she finally decided to take her catch away.

  They followed her, a short distance behind.

  “That went very well,” Gisli said.

  “Has it, Master?” Lasgol was not sure what exactly had gone so very well.

  “Yes. The last time I brought a pupil to Ilsa, she wouldn’t let him join the hunt.”

  “Oh...”

  “It’s a great step.”

  Lasgol felt honored. “Does she respect me?”

  “No, not yet. But we’ve taken a great step forward.”

  Lasgol was deeply touched. “That’s wonderful!”

  They accompanied the family back to their lair, but did not go in.

  “We’ll go back now. We don’t want to spoil what we gained today.”

  “All right, Master.”

  “You’re doing very well. You have an innate skill.”

  Lasgol was not sure what the Elder meant by this, but he decided to thank him and keep the compliment. For him, doing things well was not exactly the norm, so he was going to enjoy every little victory, such as this one.

  Chapter 21

  Astrid and Lasgol had spent the later part of the day visiting Camu and were on their way back to the Lair to have something to eat and rest. They were enjoying themselves so much with their playful little friend that they had stayed out beyond the normal time, and their partners had already dined. Luckily Ingrid always saved them something if they were late, as the ‘weirdos’ liked to have dinner together and they had been late more than once.

  A gentle breeze caressed Lasgol’s face. It smelt of the forest in summer, and the scents of the wild filled his mind. It was night by now, and the full moon was shining in a clear sky, which was not very usual in Norghana, where the sky was overcast most of the time. As he admired the full moon and then looked into the fierce eyes of Astrid beside him, he felt overawed. She smiled at him without a word, as if she had picked up what his heart was feeling.

  Lasgol was happy, and he was grateful for the fact. It had not always been that way, very far from it. Many of his days and nights had been unhappy and very hard. Because of this he was deeply aware that he needed to treasure every moment of happiness. You never knew what the next day, or night, might bring, even one as beautiful as this and in such good company.

  I need to make the most of every happy day and enjoy it, with Astrid, with Camu, with my friends, and give thanks to the Ice Gods for it. Who knows what’ll happen tomorrow, or whether we’ll live to tell the tale?

  “You’re very thoughtful this evening,” Astrid commented.

  “I was thinking about how lucky I am. And how happy I feel.”

  She smiled. “I can see that in your eyes.”

  “That’s because you’re a little bit of a witch.”

  Astrid laughed. “Not at all, but I can read you like an open book.”

  “Great, that way you save me having to tell you things.”

  “I want you to tell me everything about yourself.”

  “What for? You can already read it in my face.”

  Astrid stopped, so Lasgol did the same and turned to her.

  “Don’t you know anything about women?”

  He shrugged. “No, quite honestly I don’t. Viggo says I don’t have a clue.”

  Astrid laughed out loud. “Even if I can read everything about you on your face
, I still want you to tell me, to share things with me.”

  “Oh... sure. I will. And will you share with me?”

  “There’d be too many things for a man’s little head. It would probably burst,” she said, and laughed. Lasgol shook his head, and they went on walking. Astrid kissed his cheek lovingly. He blushed and felt very happy indeed.

  They stopped at a small lake near the Lair, to the northeast, which Lasgol liked a lot because of the blue color of the water and the calm he felt when he stared out at it. It was a haven of peace, and more than once it had helped him through bad times, particularly when he had lost Camu and was disconsolate. He stopped and looked at the water, which was absolutely still.

  “It’s a beautiful place,” Astrid said.

  “Especially at night, and with this moon.”

  Astrid went up to the water and looked at her reflection in the surface. “It looks like a blue mirror, silver under the beams of the full moon. I can see myself perfectly.”

  Lasgol bent down and stared at his own reflection on the watery surface. It was so still that it actually gave the impression that he was looking into a mirror. The reflection was silvery. He did not normally get much opportunity to look at himself, since mirrors were scarce among the Rangers, and he had the impression that he looked older, that his face seemed more mature. He was becoming a man, and his face showed it. Do I look more like my mother or my father? he wondered. He was not sure. I think I have my father’s eyes and my mother’s face... I think... He sighed. I’ll have to ask Martha and see what she thinks, because she knew them both well. It’s hard for me to tell.

  “I look more grown-up,” Astrid said. “It must be because of all the training. They’re making us grow up faster than normal...”

  “Me too. I think that now I look a bit like my mother...” He could not help remembering her. He would have loved to be able to spend more time with her. Whenever he remembered her, he felt a pang in his chest. The terrible scene of her death came to his mind, and it was an agony. He put his hand to his neck where his Ranger medallion hung, together with another one that held a special meaning for him: his mother’s pendant. She had given it to him at the final moment. It was a silver chain with a strange ice-blue jewel set in an engraved ring, also of silver. The jewel was the size of a plum. It did not look showy or valuable, but the color of the jewel, a blue which was both intense and cold, delighted the senses. Mother, I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t save you. He tried to hold back the tears. Forgive me, I failed you. He could not hold back any longer, and the tears ran down his cheeks. Two drops fell on the jewel.