King of Foxes (7 page)

They wish to ingratiate themselves with me through my sister. I am surrounded by sycophants and those seeking favor and it is a rare day when I encounter someone who wishes nothing from me. Those are the men I value the most, because I know with certainty that should they serve me, they will do so to their last breath.” Lowering his voice as they walked back toward the pavilion, he added,

“Those and others like them may find better terms from other masters attractive at the most inopportune times.”

Tal laughed. “So I have heard. I must admit, while I have distant kin in the court in Krondor, my own experience with royal politics is limited. In fact, last night was only my second visit to the palace.”

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“You should come to Opardum. While not as grand an edifice as Roldem’s palace, my own citadel above the city is rife with enough politics to last a lifetime. Besides, it would do my sister some good to spend time with a young man who wasn’t trying to convince her of his undying devotion so as to gain a position in my service.”

Then they walked back to rejoin the others. As they approached the pavilion, the Duke raised his voice. “Let us again to the chase!”

The servants quickly bound up the pavilion and tied it to the packhorses, while others put the dishes and food in baskets. Within ten minutes they were mounted again and riding northeast, into deeper forests.

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Tal signaled. He pointed up the trail. The Duke nodded.

It was nearing sundown, with perhaps another hour and a half of usable light, and they were following a game trail.

Tal had been surprised to discover the entire Royal Game Preserve was, as its name suggested, preserved wilderness. No logging had been conducted in this area for generations, though there were heroic stands of old-growth trees that would yield timbers for ships and houses should they be harvested. As a hunter, he appreciated that the kings of Roldem had been willing to make ship-builders forest many miles farther away and haul lumber down the mountains in order to keep this region pristine.

He silently acknowledged the practice was most likely begun in ancient times to ensure that the royal family had game to eat in times of famine, but whatever the original motivation, it had left a stunning wilderness within a day’s ride from the largest city on the island kingdom.

They had reached their campsite two hours earlier, _______________

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and a large pavilion had been established, with several smaller tents for the guests. The Duke had insisted on starting the hunt at once, rather than waiting for morning. Tal had agreed that game often was plentiful near sunset, when both predators and prey sought water. From the lay of the hills Tal judged as many as half a dozen good-sized streams were likely to be in the area. Certainly there were game signs everywhere. He had already seen the tracks from a heart of forest boars, a sow and her young. Half an hour earlier he had spotted cat prints, most likely a leopard or catamount from the size of the prints, rather than the much larger, black-maned cave lions.

Of their intended prey, the wyvern, there was no evidence. As far as Tal was concerned, if they never saw a hint of the creature, so much the better. There were other ways to die he found preferable to being devoured while trying to demonstrate his hunting prowess to a bunch of idle nobles.

Duke Kaspar led the hunt, with Tal on his right flank.

Between them was the Lady Natalia, who held a small bow as if she knew exactly how to use it. The two barons were on the left. A full company of guards, servants, and trailbreakers were waiting back at camp. A half dozen mounted crossbowmen were ready to answer any call for help, though Tal’s experience told him that with a wild beast, the matter would usually be resolved before help could arrive. He just hoped there would be no trouble.

Lingering closer were two servants holding a variety of weapons, including a heavy crossbow and a pair of boar-spears.

Tal was surprised how quiet the Duke was at that point, and how noisy the two barons were. Both were very uncomfortable at being on foot, apparently, though they _______________

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claimed to be serious hunters. The Duke stopped and signaled for Tal and the others to join him.

He was looking at the ground as they approached.

“Now, look at that,” he said very softly.

Tal went to one knee and examined the print. He put his finger in the soil and judged the imprint to be no more than a few minutes old.

He stood up and said, “Bear.”

Baron Mikhael whistled. “But look at the size of it.”

“That’s the grandfather of all bears,” said the Duke.

Tal had heard tales of such bears, but they had been hunted to extinction in his grandfather’s grandfather’s day.

They were the
Ja-haro Milaka
, or Grey-Muzzled Bears, of his people’s legends. Perhaps limited hunting here in Roldem had kept them alive. To the Duke, he said, “I know this breed by reputation. They are aggressive in the best of times. It’s spring, and it’s almost certain one this big is a male, so he will be looking to mate and will not look kindly on
anything
encroaching on his territory.” Tal glanced around. “He’s close. There’s still moisture in the depression. The air would have dried it out in less than an hour.”

“How big do you judge him?” asked the Duke.

“Twelve feet if he’s an inch,” said Tal. He motioned toward the servants. “Arrows will only irritate him. We need heavier weapons.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Did you bring a catapult?”

The Duke smiled. “I’ve hunted bear before.”

Ignoring protocol, Tal said, “As have I, Your Grace, but the largest brown bear you’ve seen is nothing compared to the Grey-Muzzled Bear. You can’t stop it even with a heavy bolt to the shoulder if it’s charging. With other bears you can drop and play dead and perhaps they’ll get bored after mauling you a bit and wander off.

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“These creatures will shred you. They can bite a man’s head off if they are in the mood.”

“Sounds like it’s best to retreat at first sight,” said Baron Eugivney.

“You can’t outrun it,” said Tal as he started to move toward the servants. “In a short burst, it can run down a horse from behind and cripple it with a blow to the spine.”

The Duke didn’t move while the others started to follow Tal. “You’re not suggesting I don’t hunt this creature, Squire?”

“No, Your Grace, but I am suggesting a better choice of weapons.”

The Duke nodded. “What, then?”

“I would rather have heavy lances from horseback, or heavy spears, but these boar-spears should suffice,” called Tal over his shoulder.

Duke Olasko took a single step toward the others when from behind him there came a roar to shake the trees. It was a low howl with a strident note, coupled with the grating sound of a piece of wood being torn in half.

Tal swore nothing living could make such a noise.

He turned for a second while the others froze and saw a massive brown shape explode from the trees less than ten yards from the Duke. Kaspar spun as if ready to meet a human attacker, in a crouch, his bow held in his left hand, his dagger seeming to fly to his right.

The Lady Natalia remained motionless but cried, “Do something!”

Tal threw aside his bow and with two quick steps yanked the boar-spear from the hands of an openmouthed servant, who looked to be on the verge of fleeing. To the other servant, Tal called, “Follow me!”

As he ran uphill past the two barons, he shouted,

“Distract it!”

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The Duke didn’t move until the animal was almost upon him, and at the last instant threw himself to the left.

The bear swatted at him with his left paw, propelling him in the direction he was already heading. Had it gone the other way, Tal knew, the Duke would be dead with a broken spine. And, for all Tal knew, he was already.

Kaspar had taken a punishing blow, and he wasn’t moving, either unconscious or playing dead. The bear’s momentum took it on for a few yards farther; then it wheeled and turned, ready to charge. The two barons and Natalia let fly a volley of arrows and two of the three struck the animal. It turned and howled, giving Tal the time he needed to reach the Duke. Tal came to stand above him.

Seeing an opponent that wouldn’t flee, the bear slowed its charge and continued forward at a quick walk.

Tal raised the boar-spear high above his head with both hands and shouted as loud as he could, an inarticulate approximation of an animal’s howl.

The bear pulled up just a few feet away and reared on its hind legs. It roared a challenge, and Tal ducked low, thrusting the boar-spear under the animal’s breastbone.

The bear howled, stepping back. Once more Tal ducked under and thrust. The broad-headed blade cut deep into the muscle, and blood flowed, streaking the beast’s brown fur. Howling in pain, the bear retreated once again, but Tal followed, continuing to duck and thrust into the same spot below the breastbone.

Soon blood gushed like a river down the animal’s torso, pooling in the ground at its feet. The huge creature waved its paws, and again Tal thrust home with the boar-spear.

Tal lost count, but after close to a dozen cuts, the animal staggered backward, and fell on his left side. Tal _______________

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didn’t wait, but reached down and grabbed the Duke, gripping his right upper arm and dragging him downhill.

Kaspar said weakly, “I can get up, Squire.”

Tal helped Kaspar to his feet. The Duke seemed slightly dazed, but otherwise unhurt, though he was moving slowly. “I’ll be feeling that blow to the ribs for a week with each breath I take.”

“Are you all right?” Natalia cried, arriving at a run.

The two barons approached, bows in hand, and Mikhael said, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Kaspar said, “How did you do that, Squire?”

“My grandfather,” said Tal. “He told me once of a boyhood hunt. The great bear rears up to challenge. It is the only way to kill one, he said. If you run, he’ll take you down from behind, but if you stand and threaten him, the bear will rise on his hind legs. Then, said my grandfather, you must strike upward, just below the breastbone, hard and fast, for there is a great artery under his heart and if you can nick that with a deep thrust of a spear, he will bleed to death inside and quickly lose consciousness.” He looked over to where the now-comatose bear lay bleeding out, and said, “Apparently, Grandfather was right.”

“Your grandfather must have been an amazing hunter,” observed Baron Mikhael quietly.

For an instant emotions threatened to overwhelm Tal as the image of his grandfather, Laughter in His Eyes, came to him, smiling as he always did. Tal forced that memory aside, using every mental discipline he had been taught at Sorcerer’s Isle to keep composed. He said softly,

“He was that.”

“Well, Squire,” said the Duke, wobbly enough to allow Baron Eugivney to help him down the hill, “I owe you my life. What can I do to repay that?”

Tal suddenly realized that without thought, he had _______________

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just saved the life of the man he had sworn to kill, but Kaspar read his confusion as modesty. “Come. Let’s go back to camp and rest, and we’ll talk about it.”

“Very well, Your Grace,” said Tal. For a moment the irony of the situation came down on him in full force, and he was caught halfway between wanting to laugh aloud and wanting to curse.

He took a glance back at the dying bear, then shouldered the spear and followed the Duke.

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That evening, the Duke lounged in one of the chairs with his feet propped up on cushions, nursing his injured ribs.

Tal was amazed at how much strength the man possessed.

In his prime, Kaspar was a powerful man with the shoulders of a wrestler or dockworker, and arms knotted thick with muscle. When the servants had removed his shirt, revealing the huge blackening area from the deep bruise dealt him by the bear, Tal saw there was very little fat on the man. In open-handed combat, he would be extremely dangerous.

He was also tough; every breath had to be a trial, for Tal suspected the Duke had cracked ribs, yet he lay back comfortably, chuckling at one or another remark during the evening meal, one arm draped over the back of the chair for support, the other holding a cup of wine.

He ate little, but he consumed a prodigious amount of wine. Tal’s opinion was that the wine would help the Duke sleep soundly. At the end of the evening, he directed a question at Tal: “So, Squire, have you given any thought to what reward I can offer to set right my debt to you?”

Tal lowered his head a little as if embarrassed, and said, “Truth to tell, Your Grace, I acted without a lot of _______________

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thought. I was attempting to save my own life as much as yours.” He tried to look modest.

“Come now. That may be, but the effect is the same.

You saved my life. What can I do to repay this?”

Tal smiled. “I am currently in need of little, sir. But I assume at some point in the future things may not be as sanguine for me as they are today. Should I fall upon hard times, then perhaps I might redeem your favor?”

“Fair enough. Though I suspect a man of your resources should have little trouble making his way through life without too much difficulty.” He stood up slowly.

“Each of you has a tent prepared and a servant to provide for your comfort. Now, I must bid you good night and come morning I’ll see how I feel. I would hate to shorten our hunt, but I fear I am in no manner or form able to confront a dragon, even a small one.” The others laughed.

“So, I suspect we shall be back at the palace this time tomorrow. Sleep well.”

He departed, and, after a moment, Tal excused himself, leaving the two barons alone to contest for the Lady Natalia’s attentions. He found the “tent” put aside for him was another small pavilion, large enough for Tal to stand in and disrobe with the help of a servant. The servingman took Tal’s clothing and said, “These will be cleaned and ready for you in the morning, Squire.”