Page 28 of The Huntsman's Heart
A swirl of mist breaks and turns into the thick snout and sharp tusks of a fully grown dornschwein. Tufts of black bristles sprout from its head, and puffs of hot fetid breath escape its nostrils. Its beady red eyes narrow on me.
It lowers its head and charges, and I’m grateful Tharrok is nimble and well trained. He darts to one side, not needing me to direct him. We whirl to see the boar struggling to correct its course.
There’s a shout from my right, and Tomas bursts through the trees on foot. He turns and spots the monster, and the boar tosses its great head and lets out a huge snort of hot air.
“Get out of the way,” I yell at him.
He runs, but I can already tell he won’t be fast enough. The creature charges and is closing on him. Instead of swerving, Tomas runs in a straight line, thinking he can outpace it—or not thinking at all perhaps.
With a grunt, I spur Tharrok forward. I bend and grab Tomas by the neck of his tunic and drag him out of the way just in time.
More shouts and the remaining three men burst through the trees, swords drawn.
The boar wheels again, pawing the ground with its hoof. I force Tharrok into its path, kicking his sides, spurring him on. The creature lets out a long squeal, then it charges.
The men dart in as I trained them to do, jabbing at the neck, the belly, the vulnerable places, and darting back before the creature can turn.
It bellows as the tip of a sword pierces its flank. But it’s quicker than Robert expects. It tosses its huge head around and catches him with an enormous tusk.
Robert’s eyes bulge. He lets out an awful groan. Then the boar shakes him free and rounds on him where he’s fallen to the ground.
Wheeling Tharrok around, I race back toward the monster. I shout as I near the creature, drawing its attention and stopping it from completely goring the fallen hunter. Then as Tharrok nears, I pull him to the side, bending to stab my sword into the back of the creature’s neck.
It lets out a hideous scream, making what few birds hide quietly in the branches of the trees shriek and fly from their perches. Then it collapses to the ground, dead.
I slide from Tharrok’s back, but it’s too late for Robert. The others have staunched the wound, but there is already blood frothing at his mouth.
“Stand back,” I command coldly.
“But Sir Alaric—”
“Stand back, I said.” I raise my sword.
Robert’s eyes widen as he realizes what I’m about to do. He feebly tries to lift one hand. Then my sword comes down, and his hand drops limply to the dirt. He lets out one final choking cough and is silent.
The silence echoes from the men around me as I straighten and clean my blade. “Pick up the body and return him to the keep. He will have an honorable burial.”
I hurry to the body of the monster without waiting to listen to the murmurs of “yes, sir.”
I like this as little as they do, but letting the poor man suffer would be crueler than simply ending his pain. A suffering man in the Gloamwald brings danger down on all around him.
“Hurry,” I shout back to them when I turn to see them still staring at the body of their companion. “If you want to make it back behind the walls alive, we need to move that fresh corpse or abandon it to the woods.”
At this they move, hastily throwing a cloth over the body and lifting him onto his horse to drape across the saddle. The horse is quickly tethered to the next mount, and I’m able to draw the blood I need from the boar and return to Tharrok.
I wonder if the lady with the child will hear of the way I killed my own man without a second thought today. The way I never looked back.
I wonder if she will still think I am a good man if she does.
Évandre
Sleeping where I do on the tallest remaining section of the wall, I am the first to sleep but the last to wake. As soon as the light dips low enough behind the trees, I blink open my eyes and stretch out my wings, shaking out the stiffness of the day spent as stone.
The princess is gone.
Raban and Corvin are already searching every nook and cranny in the castle, but I don’t need to search. I could tell from the way she bid us sleep well last night what she had in mind.
I don’t blame her. Of course she wants to return to her home. That’s only natural. I fear that once she finds the place she used to call home, she may find it no longer feels like a good fit, however.
