Chapter 37: The Hunt
The high table was set with a great bounty. Platters of roasted lamb, beef, and seared fish fillets. Bowls of crisp fruits, and massive pitchers were carried by servants to see that a lord's goblet never went dry.
The Duke clapped his little hands together and commanded the attention of all diners. "Let us begin." He said with a hearty cheer.
Thaelin dug into the bounty like all humans do. He wiped his hands on a towel and began to rip off a few sections from a rack of lamb ribs. Next he plucked a handful of grapes from the platters before him. The food was just as good as he imagined rich peoples foods to taste. Tender meat, strong wine, and sweet deserts.
Hastur took her seat on the right of the Duke. She pursed her lips at no dining skewers set forth and decided it best to display another elven tradition. Just as she always had done when eating, she unsheathed her knife and carved off the bottom slice of bread from a nearby loaf and placed it on top of her plate. Using her knife, she skewered the chunks of meat before her and place them on her bread trencher. Next she sliced off meat from the bones and fat. Never touching the food bare handed.
Many of the lords watched her with absolute wonder. Never have they seen such odd and unusual manners performed before. The Duke merely smiled and proceeded to mimic her.
"It always amazes me seeing elven customs." The Duke said cutting a bread trencher for himself. "Such a clean culture."
Not long the rest of the high table began to copy the half elf and found the practice to be quite efficient in royal dining. The men found that the use of bread trenchers best soaked up the flavored juices of the roasted meats and the woman found the practice amusing as to try and attempt such an alien tradition.
"Lady Nir-Vallen," spoke the duke between bites "Do regale us with a story of your home in the Far North?"
Hastur pursed her lips at the request. In the two years that she had lived in Hayak. Not a single soul had ever asked about her old home.
"Yes, my Lord. What would you wish to know?"
The little Lord's smile went bright. "I've read poem and legend alike and all my life I had dreamed of visiting one of the Great Cities. Pray tell, what does the city of your birth look like?"
Hastur took a sip of her wine glass. "I'm afraid its very difficult to fully pronounce in the common tongue but the name of my home is Albion. It is a city populated by Moon and Wood Elves. So the city contains many styles dedicated to the two cultures. The stone buildings are enclosed with ivy and gardens of all kinds fill the air with warmth. When the eastern wind blows it carries the sweet aroma of dozens of flowers. When you pass the city gates, an untrained eye can only spot a forest."
"Dendrophiles..." snickered a lord next to Thaelin. The lord and his wife both whispered amongst themselves. The ranger reversed his grip on his eating knife and went to stab a piece of sliced fruit near the Lord. He made sure to slam the blade into the table hard enough to startle the man and his wife.
"It sounds beautiful. I would love to visit it."
Hastur let out a short sorrowful sigh. "Sadly, my lord, humans are forbidden from entering the North Wood. Unless mandates from the High Elders or an invitation from City Lords can allow such."
"A shame." The Duke said reaching for his goblet.
When the feast finished, servants approached and handed the Lords bows, quivers of colored arrows and spears alike. The Hunt was about to begin. And Thaelin impatiently waited for his once in a lifetime chance to run these woods for a fine beast.
Thaelin took a spear in hand and went to test its balance. The barbed head was a little heavy for his liking, but it shouldn't hinder his skill.
With the help of a special set of steps, the Duke took his mount on horseback and blew a moot into a heavily engraved horn to signal the start of the hunt. Servants handed each man a bow and an arrow of quivers and a spear to any man who felt up for the dangerous task of skewering their prey. Each set of arrows had special colored fletching as to tell who's arrow it belonged to.
"50 gold goes to the soul that slays our query!" the Duke said hefting a spear in his little hand.
Thaelin leaned his speak against the crook of his neck before turning back to Hastur and giving a sly smirk "Care to give me a kiss for good luck, sweetheart?"
Hastur put on a fake smile. This part of their plan she absolutely hated. She couldn't stomach the thought of actually kissing him, so when she approached the ranger, she pinched his cheek sharply
"Good luck, dearest." The term of endearment made her sick.
Thaelin unbuttoned his formal doublet by a few buttons and took his spear in hand. The Duke's horse followed as she used his skills to search for any signs of hunting game. There were numerous markings of animals about. Rabbit droppings, broken walnuts belonging to squirrels and scratching of pheasant tracks in the dirt, but nothing just yet of a stag or a bear as was custom to hunt.
A lord with a quiver of red fletched arrows came running up to Thaelin. "I say, have you caughten' sight of the beast yet?"
Thaein stood to his feet and brushed the dirt from his knees. "No." the ranger then took in a deep breath. The wind traveled from the south. It was soft warm.
"Name's Reginald Willstead, Merchant Lord of Insark."
"Thaelin." he put briefly trying to keep his focus and watchful eyes.
The merchant lord followed Thaelin and observed dumbly as Thaelin knelt down again to observe something new. Tracks. They were long cloven hoof prints. Round as well. And big. Very big. Almost as wide as his fist. The tracks dug into the dry ground a bit and lead to back west where they had just come from.
Stern hooves beat behind the two men. Thaelin and Lord Reginald each gave a nod to the Duke up on his mount. "How fairs the hunt, gentleman?"
"No luck yet, my lord. Are you sure you had game spotted in these acres?" laughed Reginald
"And what do you spy, Lord Nir-Vallen?"
Thaelin knelt back down to the tracks. "I've found some tracks, my lord."
"Ah. "he sighed leaning down careful not to fall from his saddle. "And what do they tell you?"
Reginald poked his head over Thaelin's shoulder and scoffed at the sight. 'Deer. A stag of maybe twelve points, should make for a great trophy on the mantle."
"No, these aren't deer prints. They are too round. These...look to be boar.
"Ooh!" the Duke awed with a brilliant and excited gesture. "A boar shall make for a magnificent feast tonight, wouldnt you say, gentleman?"
"-This...this is not a normal boar. Its big. Very big. And if a pig would get that huge, that it must be old. And dangerous."
"Are you afraid?" chuckled the Duke
"I'm afraid of what will happen to someone when they find this thing. Its tusks must be at least a span long. We will need a dozen pikemen to slay this thing."
"Can you track it, Lord Nir-Vallen?"
"Of course."
Thaelin took his spear in hand and walked tip-toed next to the heavy cloved prints. Lord Reginald and the duke followed a good distance behind. Allowing the huntsman to conduct his search for them to take their shot. The ranger brushed low hanging branches aside as he cautiously went forward. His head snapped to the sight of any small twig cracking or any gust of wind shifting the trees. Thaelin threw a closed fist into the air to signal the nobles behind him to halt.
Lord Reginald notched his bow and took three fingers to the string to ready his shot.
Thaelin's knuckles cracked as he tightened his grip on the spear. The wind shifted towards the men. And on the breeze was the pungent odor of mud and dung. Fifteen yards into the brush came a heavy rustling and a low grunt. The ranger took his spear in a javelin's grip and cocked his arm back.
A greedy smile took the Duke seeing the men prepare to stike. Which one would fell the beast. The bow? Or the spear? The anticipation was killing him.
The arrow whistled through the air missing Thaelin's head by a foot's distance and aimed blindly into the brush. The ranger wanted to go hit the noble for almost shooting him but the high shriek of an angered boar and foliage exploding towards him replaced his anger.
"Look out!"
The Duke's horse reared back wildly as the massive pig charged forward. The little lordling dropped his hold of the reigns and lept from his mount. He rolled to safety as the boar spooked the horse and the two beasts bound in opposite directions.
Lord Reginald knelt to the grass. Concern took him as sh spotted the grass stained with blood. "Are you alright, my lord?"
The duke pat himself down and was relived to find himself in good order. Terrified, but alive.
"No, no. I'm quite alright."
"The boar's not. Looks like one of our shots wounded the thing." Thaelin said observing how the blood trailed off in the direction of the massive hog. This news invigorated the Duke. He marched off to collect his horse.
"Ah! Now the hunt has begun! Tally Ho!"
Hastur broke away from the gossips with the upmost haste. Collectively their perfumes were choking her greatly. Her annoyance with the women flared every time the woman spoke any negativity of the city, the races that lived there, or about how much more wealth they could accumulate if their husbands could cut back the pay of their workers and subordinates. It was maddening.
They complained of how the poor could allow themselves to live in squalor and their clothes to be dirty and torn. For two years Hastur had tended to the very men, women, and children that they ridicule. They never allow themselves to live in hazardous work conditions. After taxes and after the expenses for food and safe drink the downtrodden barely have enough to purchase an ale at the end of a work shift let alone new clothing.
It was unbearable. The intolerance was suffocating more than their odor. So much so that she had to excuse herself to take a quiet walk in the woods. Further away from the harpies, the better.
The choir of nature was a wondrous melody. The sound of the trees in the wind. The singing of the birds. Even the smell of the grass was a beautiful myriad of splendor. She finally understood why Thaelin wanted to come here. So far away from the bustle of the city. The Duke's private reserve seemed to be much brighter, cleaner, and softer than any forest north of Hayak.
The Fall season was only a week away and there were already signs of the great changes to the land. Leaves of the trees began to brighten. The grass underfoot was losing its palette. Birds began to become more sparse. And the animals were starting to fatten up. By her guess, this was going to be a lean winter.
An ominous gallop of hooves and a roaring squeal heralded the approach of a fearsome beast. A mud brown coat of course hair and two long curved tusks hurtled towards her. Its dark eyes were blank of any intelligence. Only base instinct lead its assault
"Shit!"
Hastur rolled to her left dodging the beast but only to be pursued more after it slowed its charge and redirected itself towards the half elf.
"Take it easy there, big guy." she said crouching low and placing her hands open to her side. "I'm not going to hurt you. So please don't hurt me."
The massive boar's nostrils scrunched up and saliva drooled down its jowls. It sniffed the air and caught the cent of the cleric. It raised and lowered its head all while grunting and tamping its front right foot. The mage cautiously wide-stepped to the side to try and get a better look at the beast. She was shocked at its sheer size and clear ferocity it could bolster. From hoof to the dark mane on its back, the boar was about a good foot taller than she was. And from snout to tail it was longer than any stallion she had seen. The most troubling were its tusks. Long and curved like a farmers sickle and equally as sharp.
Near its rump she saw the shaft of a red-fletched arrow sticking out. Bright red blood trailed down its hide. If she could get close enough without being skewered by those tusks or trampled. She may have a chance to help the poor thing.
"Easy boy. I want to help you." she said taking a bold step forward. The boar didn't seem to pay much attention to the half elf. It was busy smelling the dirt and grunting heavily. "That's a good fella. I'm a friend. I'm not going to hurt you."
Inching herself forward the mage tried to make herself look as minuscule and harmless as possible without becoming prey for the beast.
When she got within five feet of the creature's head, her hope was dashed. The large pig tamped at the ground and scratched at the dirt. Clear signs of a charge. Hastur cursed under her breath. The second its strong muscles flinched as it propelled itself forward.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!"
She rolled to the side again to dodge the attack and reached at her belt for her trusty rapier only to remind herself that she was unarmed. Except for her Elven knife.
The quillon dagger was held in a defensive grip. her attacker roared once more as she took a step backwards. She turned on the balls of her feet and tried to make a run for it. If she was lucky she could find one of the Duke's huntsmen somewhere to save her. Hastur failed to take note of a large elm tree behind her and ran face first into the solid base.
"Son of a-"
The boar boar charged on. In the knick of time, Hastur slid down the base to wear she was against the roots Its head came crashing into the tree trunk. Its left tusk cracked against the bark and broke off. The boar roared in pain and confusion while trying to search for its prey. Hastur gasped as she watched the boar overhead careen with the tree and let out its wail. With the element of surprise, she thrust her blade up and into the beast's neck. She twisted her blade in its new sheath then abandoned the blade and crawled to safety.
She watched with pity as the beast wailed in pain. Its fell to its side and it's legs kicked up chunks of grass and debris. It brought a tear to Hastur's eye. She knew her knife struck its corrative artery. In a few minutes it would bleed to death. And she was the cause of the creature's pain.
When the boar stopped flailing in the dirt, she took steps towards it. With an outstretched hand she moved into the boar's line of sight. Its body still rose and fell. And its mouth still produced unintelligible grunts and groans. What really hurt the cleric terribly was when she placed her hand against the boar's belly. She wiped her tears with her sleeve as she felt the faltering heartbeats. Its breath's becoming more sparse.
"I'm so sorry this happened to you."
The boar blinked its dark eye at the cleric. And she could see the faint outline of her keh. There was nothing she could do, but give the poor creature a few moments of peace. She hummed the soft tune of one of her people's lullabies. And then she felt the massive boar become still.
"Rest, dear friend."
When the mage pulled away from the boar, she nearly jumped out of her skin when there came a new rustle from a thicket of brush. She clenched her fist and then released when she found it to be Thaelin.
The half elf, so troubled by the ordeal ran towards her friend and buried her face in his arms. The ranger didn't need to hear what happened. He saw it. The boar, the hoof marks in the dirt, the blade in the beast's throat, and his best friend brought to tears.
"Ha! I win!" Laughed the a noble emerging from the treeline. The noble approached the boar with a swagger of victory. "Not so tough now are you, ya big chunk of ham? You were wrong Lord Nir-Vallen it appears that those pikemen wont be needed. Only my arrow was all that was needed to kill this cur. Its pelt with make an amazing pair of boots, don't you think?"
Hastur tore away from the ranger, she approached the noble and slapped him across the face with an open palm.
"How dare you?! You bastard!"
The Duke was the last to emerge atop his horse. And to his dismay, the scene was unlike anything he had ever seen. Viewing the boar in its full, he could see Thaelin's need for worry. And a very angry quest of honor slapping and berrating one of his members of court. Her words like daggers wisping harsh insult in the Elven tongue that even he did not quite understand.
"Lady Nir-Vallen. Please calm yourself. Or I may be in need of one of my guardsmen to escort you back to the keep." Duke Du'Fenn said reaching into his elkskin belt pouch and produced a velvet purse jingling with gold. He clenched his hand around the pouch and looked down at the men.
Thaelin grabbed the half elf by the arm and gave her a forceful tug away. He placed an arm around her and lead her towards the Duke.
"Now then, what is the matter here?"
The lord turned to address the Duke. "That crazy elf hit me! I didnt do anything wrong. She spouted some nonsense about showing respect. Respect for what? That monstrosity I killed? Pfft. Elf nonsense I say. Its all love the twigs with their kind."
Thaelin gave a slight wave of his hand for Hastur to stay back and to stay quiet. The ranger approached the boar and pulled the red fletched arrow from the boar's rump.
"You didnt kill anything, Reginald. All you did was shoot it in the ass and piss it off." he said tossing the arrow at the noble's feet.
"My wife, on the other hand, is the one who truly killed the boar." this time he removed the blood drenched dagger from its neck. "This is what fell the pig."
"In that case, I present to you the winner's purse, Lady Nir-Vallen." the Duke smiled and said as he gave an underhanded toss to Hastur.
The half elf didnt bother trying to catch the purse. She let it hit the ground and rolled her eyes at the gesture.
"My lord! Are you really going to award a woman? She wasn't even a hunter! This is a farce!"
"My words I spoke earlier were 'a purse goes to any one who fells or query. She fell the boar. And she is the victor. A good hunt Lady Nir-Vallen"
