Ruins of Gorlan (15 page)

He slowly took his hand down from the farmer's mouth. " Have you got all that?" the Ranger asked. Salt Peter nodded carefully. " Then repeat it back to me," Halt prompted.

" Go to the castle, tell the gate guard I have a message from you… Halt… for the Baron. Tell the Baron that you… Halt… and him… Will… are tracking a wild boar to find its lair. Tell him to have his men ready for a hunt tomorrow."

"Good," said Halt. He gestured to Will and the two of them swung back into their saddles. Salt Peter stood uncertainly on the track, looking up at them.

"Off you go," said Halt, pointing in the direction of the castle. The old farmer went a few paces, then, when he judged he was at a safe distance, he turned around and called back at the grim-faced Ranger:

"I don't believes you, you know! Nobody grows shorter and thinner!"

Halt sighed and turned his horse away into the forest.

T
HEY RODE SLOWLY THROUGH THE FAILING LIGHT, LEANING sideways in their saddles to follow the trail left by the boar.

They had no trouble tracking him. The huge body had left a deep trench in the thick snow. Even without the snow, Will thought, it would have been easy. The boar was obviously in a very bad temper. It had slashed at the surrounding trees and shrubs with its tusks as it went, leaving a clear-cut path of destruction through the forest.

"Halt?" he said tentatively when they had gone a kilometer or so into the dense trees.

" Mmmm?" said Halt, a little absently.

"Why bother the Baron? Couldn't we simply kill the boar with our bows?"

Halt shook his head.

"He's a big one, Will. You can see the size of the trail he's left. We could take half a dozen arrows to kill him, and even then he'd take time to die. With a brute like this, it's better to make sure."

"How do we do that?"

Halt looked up for a second. "I suppose you've never seen a boar hunt?"

Will shook his head. Halt reined in for a few seconds to explain and Will brought Tug to a stop beside him.

"Well, first," said the Ranger, " we'll need dogs. That's another reason why we can't simply finish him off with our bows. When we find him, he'll have most likely gone to ground in a thicket or in dense bushes where we can't get at him. The dogs will drive him out and we'll have a ring of men around the lair with boar spears."

"And they throw them at him?" Will asked. Halt shook his head.

"Not if they have any brains," he said. "The boar spear is more than two meters long, with a double-sided blade and a crosspiece set behind the blade. The idea is to make the boar charge at the spearman. Then he sets the butt of the spear in the ground and lets the boar run onto it. The crosspiece stops the boar running right down the shaft and getting the spearman."

Will looked doubtful. "That sounds dangerous." The Ranger nodded. "It is. But men like the Baron and Sir Rodney and the other knights love it. They wouldn't miss the chance of a boar hunt for worlds."

"What about you?" asked Will. "Will you have a boar spear?"

Halt shook his head. "I'll be sitting right here on Abelard," he said. "And you'll be on Tug, in case the boar breaks through the ring of men around him. Or in case he's just wounded and gets away."

"What do we do if that happens?" Will asked.

"We run him down before he can go to ground again," said Halt grimly. "And
then
we kill him with our bows."

The following day was a Saturday and, after breakfast, the Battleschool students were free to spend the day as they pleased. In Horace's case, this usually meant trying to stay out of sight whenever Alda, Bryn and Jerome came looking for him. But lately they'd realized he was avoiding them and had taken to waiting for him outside the mess hall. As he came out onto the parade ground this morning, he saw them waiting, smiling at him. He hesitated. It was too late to turn back. With a sinking heart, he continued on toward them.

"Horace!" He was startled by a voice coming from right behind him. He turned and saw Sir Rodney watching him, a curious look in his eyes as he glanced at the three second-year cadets waiting in the yard. Horace wondered if the Battlemaster knew about the treatment he was getting. He assumed he did. Horace guessed it was part of the toughening process of Battleschool.

"Sir!" he replied, wondering what he'd done wrong. Rodney's features softened and he smiled at the young man. He seemed extraordinarily pleased about something.

"Relax, Horace. It's Saturday, after all. Ever been on a boar hunt?"

"Um… no, sir. " In spite of Sir Rodney's invitation to relax, he remained stiffly at attention." Time you did then. Draw a boar spear and hunting knife from the armory, have Ulf assign you a horse and report back here in twenty minutes."

"Yes, sir," Horace replied. Sir Rodney rubbed his hands together with evident pleasure.

"Seems Halt and his apprentice have scared us up a wild boar. Time we all had a bit of fun. " He grinned encouragingly at the apprentice, then strode away eagerly to get his own equipment ready. When Horace turned back to the yard, he noticed that Alda, Bryn and Jerome were nowhere to be seen. He might have thought more about why the three bullies would disappear when Sir Rodney was around, but he had too much on his mind, wondering what he'd be expected to do in a boar hunt. 

****

It was midmorning by the time Halt led the hunting party to the boar's lair.

The huge animal had gone to ground in a dense clump of undergrowth deep inside the forest. Halt and Will had found the hiding place just before dark the previous evening.

Now, as they approached, Halt made a signal and the Baron and his hunters dismounted, leaving their horses in the care of one of the stable hands who had accompanied them. They covered the last few hundred meters on foot. Halt and Will were the only two who remained on horseback.

There were fifteen hunters in all, each one armed with a boar spear of the type Halt had described. They spread out in a wide circle as they came closer to the boar's lair. Will was a little surprised to recognize Horace as one of the hunting group. He was the only apprentice warrior in the party. All the others were knights.

With a hundred meters to go, Halt held up his hand, signaling the hunters to stop. He urged Abelard into a gentle trot and crossed to where Will sat nervously astride Tug. The little horse was moving restlessly as he scented the presence of the boar.

"Remember," the Ranger said quietly to Will, " if you have to shoot, aim for a spot just behind the left shoulder. A clean shot to the heart will be your only chance to stop him if he's charging."

Will nodded, licking his dry lips nervously. He reached forward and comforted Tug with a quick pat on the neck. The little horse tossed his head in response to his master's touch.

"And stay close to the Baron," Halt reminded him, before moving to resume his position on the opposite side of the circle of hunters.

Halt was in the position of most danger, accompanying the hunters who were least experienced-and therefore most likely to make a mistake. If the boar broke through the ring on his side, he would be responsible for chasing it down and killing it. He had assigned Will to stay with the Baron and the more experienced of the hunters, where there was less likely to be trouble. This placed him close to Horace as well. Sir Rodney had positioned the apprentice between himself and the Baron. After all, this was the boy's first hunt and the Battlemaster didn't want to take any undue risks. Horace was there to watch and learn. If the boar charged in their direction, he was to let the Baron or Sir Rodney take care of it.

Horace glanced up once, making eye contact with Will. There was no animosity in the look. In fact, he gave the Ranger's apprentice a strained half smile. Will realized, watching Horace lick his lips over and over again, that the other boy was every bit as nervous as he was himself.

Halt signaled again and the circle began closing in on the thicket. As the circle became smaller, Will lost sight of his teacher and the other men on the far side of the boar's lair. He knew, from Tug's continued nervousness, that the boar must be inside the bushes still. But Tug was well trained and continued to move in as his rider urged him gently forward.

A deep roaring sound came from inside the thicket and Will's hair stood on end. He'd never heard the cry of an angry wild boar before. The noise was halfway between a grunt and a scream and, for a moment, the hunters hesitated.

"He's in there all right!" called the Baron, grinning at Will with excitement. "Let's hope he comes out on our side, eh, boys?"

Will wasn't at all sure that he wanted the boar to come charging out on their side of the thicket. He thought that he'd like it very well if it went the other way.

But the Baron and Sir Rodney were both grinning like schoolboys as they readied their boar spears. They were enjoying this, just as Halt had said they would. Quickly, Will unslung his bow from across his shoulders and fitted an arrow to the string. He fingered the tip for a moment, making sure it was still razor-sharp. His throat was dry. He wasn't sure that he would be able to talk if anyone spoke to him.

The dogs plunged against their restraining leashes, setting the echoes awake in the forest with their excited baying. It was their noise that had aroused the boar. Now, as they continued to give voice, Will could hear the huge animal slashing and cutting at the trees and shrubs in its lair with its long tusks.

The Baron turned to Bert, his dog handler, and made a hand signal for the hounds to be released.

The big, powerful animals were gone almost instantly, flashing across the cleared space to the thicket and disappearing inside. They were savage, heavily built beasts, bred specifically for the purpose of hunting boar.

The noise from the thicket was indescribable. The furious baying of the dogs was joined by the blood-chilling screams of the angry boar. There was a crashing and snapping of bushes and young saplings. The very thicket seemed to shake.

Then, suddenly, the boar was in the clear.

He came out halfway around the circle, between the points where Will and Halt were stationed. With an infuriated scream, he threw off one of the dogs that still clung to him, paused a moment, then charged at the hunters with blinding speed.

The young knight directly in front of the boar's charge didn't hesitate. He dropped to one knee, bracing the butt end of his spear into the ground and presenting the gleaming point to the charging animal.

The boar had no chance to turn. His own rush carried him onto the spear head. He plunged upward, screaming in pain and fury, trying to dislodge the killing piece of steel. But the young knight held grimly to the spear, holding it firmly against the ground and giving the enraged animal no chance to throw it free.

Will watched with wide-eyed alarm as the stout ash shaft of the spear bent like a bow under the weight of the boar's rush, then the carefully sharpened tip penetrated to the animal's heart and it was all over.

With one last screaming roar, the huge boar toppled sideways and lay dead.

The matted body was almost as large as a horse's and every inch was solid muscle. The tusks, harmless now in death, curved back over his ferocious snout, They were stained with the earth that he'd ripped up in his fury, and with the blood of at least one of the dogs.

Will looked at the massive body and shuddered. If this was a wild boar, he thought, he wasn't in any hurry to see another one.

T
HE OTHER HUNTERS CROWDED AROUND THE YOUNG KNIGHT who had made the kill, congratulating him and patting his back. Baron Arald started across toward him, but paused beside Tug, looking up to Will as he spoke.

"You won't see another that size in a long time, Will," he said gruffly. " Pity he didn't come our way. I would have liked a trophy like that for myself." He continued on his way toward Sir Rodney, who was already with the group of warriors around the dead boar.

Consequently, Will found himself, for the first time in some weeks, face-to-face with Horace. There was an awkward pause, with neither boy willing to make the first move. Horace, excited by the events of the morning, his heart still pounding with the thrill of fear he'd felt when the boar first appeared, wanted to share the moment with Will. In the light of what they had just seen, their childish squabble seemed unimportant, and now he felt badly about his behavior on that day six weeks ago. But he couldn't find the words to express his feelings and he saw no encouragement to do so in Will's set features, so with a slight shrug, he started to step past Tug to go and congratulate the young hunter. As he did so, the pony stiffened and pricked his ears, giving a warning neigh.

Will looked back at the thicket and his blood seemed to freeze in his veins.

There, standing just outside the shelter of the bushes, was another boar-even larger than the one which now lay dead in the snow.

"Look out!" he cried as the huge beast slashed at the earth with its tusks.

It was a bad situation. The line of hunters had broken up, most of them having moved over to marvel at the size of the dead boar and to praise its killer. Only Will and Horace remained in the path of the second boar-mainly, Will realized, because Horace had hesitated for those few vital seconds.

Horace spun around at Will's shout. He looked at Will, then swung to look at the new danger. The boar lowered his head, tore at the ground again and charged. It all happened with terrifying speed. One moment the huge animal was ripping the ground with its tusks. The next, it was hurtling toward them. Placing himself between Will and the boar, Horace turned without hesitation to face it, setting his spear as Sir Rodney and the Baron had showed hire.

But, as he did so, his foot slipped on an icy patch in the snow and he sprawled helplessly onto his side, the long spear falling from his grasp.

There was not a second to lose. Horace lay helpless before those murderous tusks. Will kicked his feet clear of the stirrups and dropped to the ground, sighting and drawing back the bowstring even as he did so. He knew his small bow would have no chance of stopping the boar's maddened rush. All he could hope to do was to distract the maddened animal, to turn it away from the helpless boy on the ground.