Page 7 of The Bear's Heart
Alezan’s flanks heaved. My hands rested on her wet neck as I stared down at the ruin of the stag. He lay as though sleeping, the weight of his antlers tipping his noble head slightly to one side. His slender legs had folded under him, the spear protruding from his beautiful body. His dark eyes stared blankly. All the life had gone out of him, flown away in an instant. All the beauty of his movement, all his wild spirit.
A lump rose in my throat. Tears sprang into my eyes. He’d had to die. He’d feed so many of us tomorrow or the next day in the great hall. Yet somehow, the reality of this death was too much. I gave a great gulp and turned Alezan away, pushing through the other riders toward the rear of the hunt. I couldn’t bear to see what happened next.
Merlin noticed, of course. He shouldered his horse through the crowd of riders to stand next to me, to watch in silence as I finally allowed the tears to spill. I flushed hotly, conscious of the curious gaze of the nearest riders.
“First time?” he asked, as I wiped my snotty nose on the sleeve of my jacket.
I nodded dumbly, and gave an inelegant snort to clear my nostrils. What wouldn’t I give for a hankie. I’d seen fighting, been amongst it, seen a boy die in front of my eyes, and yet the death of this animal seemed unaccountably worse. Maybe because warriors chose that life, whereas this stag had played no part in choosing his fate. This morning he’d been browsing quietly in the forest, unaware of his impending death until Bowyn’s hounds had surprised him and driven him into our path.
“You’ll get used to it.”
I shook my head. “I won’t.”
He didn’t reply. He was probably thinking he was right, and I was wrong. At least he seemed to have some inkling of how I felt right now, which was more than Arthur.
Alezan pawed the churned up muddy path with her front hoof and gave a snort of fellow feeling– I imagined. One of the men rode past us, on his way to guide the meat wagon in to collect the stag.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I said to Merlin, in a low voice so the nearest warriors, who seemed inordinately interested in me, wouldn’t hear. “I’ve never seen an animal killed like that before.” I stopped short of saying it was barbaric, but that was what I was thinking. My head told me this was something they had to do in order to supplement the meat they had from their farm stock, that there was no other way to do this. My sentimental heart was crying out at how wrong it was to deprive such a beautiful wild animal of his life. To say I was conflicted was an understatement. I might be living in the fifth century, but most of my outlook was still resolutely twenty-first.
“Do you want to go back to Din Cadan?” Merlin asked, with a tinge of understanding in his voice. He must have some idea of how out of place I felt.
I nodded. “I understand,” I said, hoping to explain, “but that doesn’t mean I like it. I…I think it’s going to take a long while for me to really feel at home here– with hunting, at least. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come.”
He gave a shrug. “I’ll tell Arthur, and get a couple of the men to escort you home.”
Relieved, I nodded. I didn’t want to witness another death like this one.
Alezan fidgeted under me, and I tightened my reins as Merlin pushed his way back to the front to tell Arthur I was going home. In a few minutes, Arthur brought his horse back to mine, followed by Drustans, like a faithful puppy. Spots of dark blood stained Arthur’s sleeve.
“You want to go back?” He sounded surprised. “Are you tired?”
Not wanting to go into my sensibilities, which he wouldn’t understand, I nodded. “I’ve had enough. I’m sorry. Will that be all right?”
His expression gave his feelings away. Concern for me mingled with his own longing to keep on doing something he enjoyed after idling inside Din Cadan for weeks, thanks to the snow.
I put my hand on his arm and managed a smile. “I can ride home on my own.”
Arthur shook his head. “No, you can’t.”
“I can take her,” Drustans spoke up, and Arthur turned to look at him. The boy colored hotly. “It’s not far. I know the way.”
I did, too. Arthur and I had ridden through this forest together many times since we’d returned from Viroconium.
“Not on your own,” Arthur said, his love for the hunt winning over his concern for me. We weren’t far from Din Cadan, after all, and it would be an easy ride. He glanced at the nearest warriors, whose faces I recognized but whose names I didn’t know. “Kelwyn, Gorsedd, you can accompany Drustans and the Queen.” He paused. “Return as soon as you’ve done so, and try to find us, of course. You, too, Drustans. Once you’ve seen the Queen safely to Din Cadan.”
Kelwyn and Gorsedd bowed their heads in acquiescence, and Arthur moved close enough to plant a fleeting kiss on my lips. “Ride safely.” Then he turned away, moving back through the group of hunters toward the front again.
“Come on then, Milady,” Kelwyn said on a sigh. “We’d best get started. The sooner we get you home, the sooner we can be back here on the hunt.” He and Gorsedd exchanged glances, and I had the momentary impression something had gone unsaid.
Drustans fell in at my side, his youthful face alight with interest. “It certainly is tiring to ride at a gallop through the forest,” he gabbled, sounding self-conscious and young. “The first time my father took me with him, I fell asleep on my pony on the ride home and fell off in the mud. How my father laughed!”
Having met King March of Caer Dore, laughing was the last thing I could imagine him doing. He’d seemed a man devoid of mirth, but maybe his son had experienced a different side.
We set off, heading in the direction of the fortress but keeping our horses, who were still steaming, at a walk. Drustans rode beside me while Kelwyn and Gorsedd followed behind, talking quietly to one another. After a while, we encountered the meat wagon, creaking and bumping along behind a sturdy pair of oxen, escorted by the rider Arthur had sent to find it. We had to retreat into the trees at the side of the path to let it pass. The wagon rumbled off up the path behind us and was soon lost to sight around a bend.
I gave Alezan a long rein so she could stretch her neck, and Drustans followed suit, chattering away to me about his home in Cornubia, full of boyish charm. I liked him a lot– he was an engaging lad, and he clearly liked me.
A pheasant flew up out of the undergrowth at the side of the path just in front of us, carking loudly, and Alezan threw her head up in alarm.
