“Then you shall see things and learn things no Orosini could imagine, my young friend.” He turned as another man approached. It was the Blade, and he had a longbow across his back, and carried another in his hand, with a hip-quiver of shafts. “Ah, here he is.” To Talon, Robert said, “This man you have seen, I am sure, for you do well in observing things; that I have already noticed. Talon, this is Caleb. He and his brother Magnus are associates of mine.’’
Talon nodded at the man, who remained silent, studying him. Up close, Talon decided that Caleb was younger than he had at first thought—perhaps no more than ten years his senior, but he stood with the confidence of a proven warrior.
Caleb handed the bow and hip-quiver to Talon, who tied the quiver-belt around his waist and inspected the bow. It was longer than the one he had learned with, and as he tested the draw, he felt Caleb’s eyes observing his every move. There was wear at one end of the string, but he didn’t judge it frayed enough to be a problem yet. Even so, he asked, “Extra bowstring?”
Caleb nodded.
Talon set the bow across his back, and said, “Let us hunt.’’
Caleb turned and led the way, and soon they were trotting down the path into the woods.
They moved silently through the trees. Caleb had not spoken a word to Talon yet. Half an hour into the hunt, Caleb led Talon off the path and down a game trail. The younger man looked around, marking signs in his mind to guide him back to the road should there be a need.
Caleb had led the way at a steady trot, a pace that would have been no problem for Talon when he was fit. But his injuries had weakened him, and he found the pace difficult after the first hour. He was considering asking for a rest when Caleb slowed. He had a waterskin on his left hip, where his sword usually rested, and he unslung it and handed it to Talon. Talon nodded and drank sparingly, just enough to wet his throat and mouth. Feeling revived, he passed the skin back to Caleb. The silent man motioned, as if asking if Talon wished to have another drink, and Talon shook his head. Looking at the rich woodlands around him, Talon reckoned he could not be far from any number of sources of water—streams, pools, and brooks—but as he was from the high mountains, where water was far more difficult to find, drinking sparingly while on a hunt was an inborn habit.
They resumed their hunt, but now Caleb led them at a walk rather than at a trot, looking at the ground for game sign. They entered a meadow after a few minutes, and Talon paused. The grass was nearly waist-high, pale yellow-green from the summer sun and ample rain.
He quickly unslung his bow and tapped Caleb on the shoulder with it. He motioned with his left hand, and Caleb looked to where he indicated. They made their way into the meadow, noting how the grass had been parted and some of it broken and crushed. Talon knelt and looked for prints. In a depression in the damp soil, he found one.
Softly he said, “Bear.” He reached out and tested the broken blades. They were still moist at the break. “Close.’’
Caleb nodded. “Good eyes,” he said softly.
They began to follow the bear’s trail until they had crossed nearly half the meadow. Caleb held up his hand, and they halted. Then Talon heard it. In the distance, the snuffling sounds of a bear, and a dull thump.
They crept along until they reached a small brook. On the other side stood a large brown bear, busily rocking a dead tree trunk and ripping at it with its claws in an effort to expose a hive of bees, which were swarming futilely around the animal. The bear tore open the dried wood and revealed the rich comb inside while the bees stung ineffectually at its thick hide, one occasionally finding the only exposed part of the animal, its tender nose. Then the bear would hoot in outrage, but after a moment it would return to its task of getting to the honey.
Talon tapped Caleb on the shoulder and motioned toward the bear, but the older man shook his head and motioned back the way they had come.
They moved silently away from the scene, and after a short distance, Caleb picked up the pace and led them back toward the road.
Nightfall found the two hunters returning to the inn, a deer across Caleb’s shoulders and Talon carrying a pair of wild turkeys tied together at the feet.
Robert waited at the gate. When they got there, Gibbs appeared and took the turkeys from Talon. Robert looked at Caleb.
Caleb said, “The boy can hunt.’’
Talon watched Robert’s face and saw a flicker of satisfaction. He wasn’t sure what had been said, but he was certain it had to do with more than merely hunting game in the woods.
Caleb followed Gibbs around the side of the inn, toward the kitchen door.
Robert put his hand on Talon’s shoulder. “So, it begins.’’
SERVANT
Talon struggled.
He followed Lela up the hill from the stream that ran through the woods, carrying a large basket of dripping-wet laundry. For the previous week, he had been put in her charge, essentially providing an extra pair of arms and legs for her.