“Hmmm,” his father sounded, with a curious expression on his face. “I’d best go check on him.”
“Aye,” Gerard agreed, with mock seriousness in his voice. “You really should. After all, he’s a mother now!”
Gerard wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard a grunt of laughter come from deep inside his father as he strode away.
Hyden was awake and feeding the squawking chick when his father entered the hut. His father took the oil lamp from the hook by the open entryway and carried it closer. He had to hold it high over the bucket to be able to see the chick down in the bottom of it. He stood there a long while studying the baby bird. Hyden glanced up with a grin on his face. His father returned the smile, only it was the smile of an Elder, not the smile of his father that Hyden saw.
“Much responsibility has been bestowed upon you son. Do not take it lightly. The rearing of this Godsend, and all the choices you make from this very moment, will determine whether your future will be terrible or grand.”
Hyden wasn’t sure exactly what all that meant, but he nodded as if he understood. He felt his father’s demeanor change as he knelt beside him and peered into the bucket for a closer look. The seriousness of the Elder passed, and his father’s pride and wonder began to show through again.
“It eats a lot,” Hyden said excitedly. “I’ve already fed it more than I can remember.”
“Its mother would be feeding it strips of fresh meat, bugs, mice, squirrels, rabbits and the like,” his father informed him. “I don’t think the dried salted meat is robust enough to fill its little belly.”
It made sense. The jerky, Hyden mused, did little to fill him on the trail. It barely quelled his hunger pangs most of the time. He decided that when the chick was asleep again, he would go find some fresh meat. Someone in the camp surely had some.
“The bucket was a clever idea,” his father said. “The hawkling can’t fall out, and you can carry it easily enough without disturbing it.”
He shifted his gaze to Hyden, and then waited until his son met his eyes.
“Is Gerard jealous? It was he who took the egg from the cliff, yes?”
“Aye. He took the egg in my stead, but he found a treasure of his own on the cliff. I think it’s more to his liking than this little chick.”
“Oh, he didn’t mention it earlier when we spoke.”
“He offered it to me too since he found it on my climb.”
Hyden didn’t say what it was. He felt he had already said too much. He didn’t want to betray Gerard’s trust. If Gerard wanted their father to know about the ring, then he would tell him himself.
“I could see that he wanted to keep it, so I refused it without offending him. I hope.”
“Aye,” came the grunted response. He could hear the reluctance in his son’s voice to speak on the matter, so he didn’t press the issue. He found he respected Hyden’s attempt not to speak his younger brother’s business. Gerard, he knew, would reveal his find when, and if, he decided he wanted to do so. It wasn’t Hyden’s place.
“They will be putting the doe that Orvin and his brothers killed on the fire soon.” He used Hyden’s shoulder as a handhold to help himself get back to his feet and groaned with the effort. “You should try to get a big piece of the liver. It’s lean and full of good stuff. Get either that or the loin. Cut thin little strips the size of earth worms.”
“Aye,” Hyden nodded, trying not to show that he had felt how much age was affecting his father these days. “Thank you for the advice.”
“Has the wound on your head affected your aim? Have you been practicing?” his father asked, as he returned the lantern to its hook by the doorway.
“I don’t think it has,” Hyden answered.
The truth was, he had forgotten the archery competition entirely. He was reminded suddenly of how important the upcoming event was to his father and the other Elders.
“I’ll resume practice in the morn.”
His father smiled, and gave an approving nod.
“That is the first of many wise decisions I hope you make son.”