Ren struggled as best he could, finding strength where he thought he had none. His grip was iron and he held on with everything he had. The creature kicked again and he caught sight of something odd, a section of horn that was shorn off at the base. A flash of inspiration struck him: There was no need to fight the eld, no use in it whatsoever. The dagger Arko had given him was too short, and its serrated edge was not meant for stabbing or cutting flesh.
He put one hand to the eld’s forelocks and gently caressed the gray tuft of hair. “Easy,” he whispered as he tightened his legs around eld’s flanks. “Easy,” he repeated as he coaxed the creature to sit. The wild beast should have thrown him to the ground, but it didn’t.
The eld kneeled, folding its legs beneath it, its muzzle coming to rest on the earth. When the eld was at last still, Ren noticed something else. There were narrow slits above the creature’s eyes and when the eld sat they winked open. The creature had four eyes, and all of them were trained on him. This is no deer. What is it? he wondered, unable to breathe, gripped by awe.
The great eld horns rose up on both sides of him, and among the forked tines of its antlers he saw two or three more places where a section of the horns had been shorn off.
It was never my task to kill the eld. Ren recalled his father’s words when he handed him the knife: Use this to claim the eld horns. He’d never asked Ren to kill the creature. The knife was made for sawing, so Ren put the blade to the horns.
The creature shifted beneath him. He feared the eld would resist, that it would throw him to the ground, but it made no effort to dislodge him and Ren worked as quickly as he could. “Be still,” he coaxed the great eld. “Be still, you magnificent creature, and I’ll be done in a flash.”
The severed horn came loose and Ren took it in his hand. The other sections of horn were cut with the same serrated edge as the one he held in his hand. My father once sat here with this same blade and sawed a horn from this very creature. Arko had sat in Ren’s place and his father’s father and his father before him had done the same. Each man had taken his horns from the great beast—each had discovered how to subdue the eld without killing it.
This was the gratifying secret behind the king’s hunt, one Ren hoped his own son would one day discover.
He dismounted, took two steps backward, and faced the eld. The creature stood gracefully, its four eyes winking. It bowed its head as it disappeared into the dark of the wood. Is there only one eld? he wondered, but quickly realized he might never learn the answer. No wonder the peasants still worship it.
Excitement shivered through his body. It’s done. The hunt is over. He felt not only satisfied but also fulfilled. When the eld bowed its crown of horns, when it at last submitted itself to the king, Ren had felt a connection to something primal, a thing buried deep within all living things, a resonance that now echoed from within him.
It’s as if I’ve touched Mithra Himself.
Shenn saw Ren return holding the white horns. “You have the horns; you are king of Harkana. Is the beast dead?”
Ren shrugged, holding the eld horn in one hand like a cane. The secrets of the hunt belonged to the kings of Harkana.
“Help me,” Shenn whimpered, his face smeared with blood—his own, the eld’s. “I can’t breathe. Help me … brother … king…”
Ren clambered to Shenn’s side. He eased him to the ground, supporting his back as he laid him flat on the earth. Shenn clutched his stomach, still desperately trying to stanch the bleeding.
Ren bent over Shenn and put a hand on his chest cautiously, and determined that his ribs were probably broken. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse,” he said, his hands soaked in Shenn’s blood.
“I’m lucky you’re fast,” he gasped. “That could have been the end of me.”
“I’ll bandage your wounds,” Ren said. Shenn had a little water in an oilskin and Ren poured it over the bloody spot. The wound was not as bad as he had originally thought, but the man still had a pair of broken ribs. He took a clean piece of Shenn’s robe and wrapped his chest as best he could. I’m not a physician. For all I know I’m hurting the man, but I doubt that’s the case. He thought to tie him up, but he doubted Shenn could move, not yet.
“What are you going to do with me?” Shenn asked.
Ren wasn’t certain what to do yet, so he made a fire. He found dried strips of meat tucked in Shenn’s robes and took them. The dog whimpered and Ren tossed the pup a stick. The two men sat in silence, Ren warming his hands against the flame, the older man moaning over his wounds. Every now and then Shenn would speak to him, his voice fading in and out. The bleeding had stopped, and although he looked weak his brother would live.
“I don’t even know Merit,” Ren said aloud. “And she doesn’t even know me and yet she wants me dead rather than alive.” Ren brooded. He felt numb, cold. “I’ve never even met her,” he said as he stoked the fire.
“Nor should you.” Shenn coughed blood and winced at the pain. “Few people in Harkana have seen your face. I know I am the last person you trust right now, but listen. Use this to your advantage. Flee. Otherwise, your sister will never stop hunting you. Everywhere she has eyes and ears. The crown Arko wishes to place on your head offers little protection. If you seek the throne of Harkana, you’ll spend your life looking over your shoulder, watching the shadows. You won’t even dare to eat your morning meal without someone tasting it first. She will fight you for her kingdom. The people respect Merit. She has been queen in all but name until now.
“But if you leave us, if you go peacefully, I’ll return and tell her you’re dead. It will buy you some time. You’ve spent ten years watching over your shoulder in the Priory, why spend another forty doing the same? Run. Go away. Make a new life for yourself. I have provisions. In time I can offer you coin. I can help you.” He tossed a bag toward Ren.
Ren picked it up. It held salted meat, a few coins.
“You’ll need this if you want to live.” He threw the bag back to Shenn. “I’m certain the warden will help you return to Harwen.”
Shenn shook his head, as if that were not a possibility. “What will you do? Where will you go?”
Ren doused the fire with a handful of sandy earth but gave no reply.
“I shall tell your sister you are dead,” called Shenn as Ren walked away.
Ren shuddered inwardly. Without a name, without a home, he was nothing. He would not give up his birthright so easily. “No. I’m done playing dead. Tell my sister I live, and I will take what is mine.” He gripped the eld horns. He was the true heir of Harkana and he would claim the horned throne and rule his father’s kingdom.
Without looking back once, he left the man, alone, in the dark, with no fire and no food and only the bitter cold of the mountain and the lowing of the eld to keep him company.