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 shipbuilders 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, 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 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.
“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.”