Bee Among the Clover (229 page)

Wulfgar saw his expression and shook his head with a grin. “Think you I’d risk your lovely arse to a boar’s tusks, boy?”
Of course not, for Aron’s “arse” was the only thing of value in him to the thane. Nodding his understanding, Aron fumed. He wasn’t going to be hunting at all; he was here to placate Wulfgar’s pride.
They spread out a little further, under the thickly spreading branches of the trees, each finding a spot near the faint path that wound through the trunks. Aron scanned the brush as he heard the other hunters and dogs in the distance crashing toward them, making an inordinate amount of noise. He frowned, wondering what they were doing. How did they expect to sneak up on their prey when they were alerting everything within the immediate vicinity that they were out there? Wulfgar didn’t seem concerned, though, and neither did Gaeric, whom he could see just barely through the veil of trees on his left.
“If one comes at you boy, level your spear at its heart. Whatever you do, don’t drop the bloody spear.” Wulfgar met his eyes, his expression serious, and waited for Aron to nod before turning back toward the direction of the hunters.
Aron glowered at his back. What did the thane take him for? He wasn’t going to drop the bloody spear. He half-turned at the sound of thrashing in the trees and watched as a deer pounded by so quickly all he saw was a flash of tawny fur. It had been so close he could’ve reached out and touched its flank. He stepped forward, peering down the path. Suddenly, everything became a whirl of action. A boar crashed through the brush in front of them and charged straight at Wulfgar, its eyes red and wild with rage, foam forming around the base of its massive tusks. Aron’s eyes widened, and he took a step back from the monster, eyes flying to the thane, who had a concentrated expression on his face as he waited, spear held steady in front of him, for the boar to charge him.
It all happened very fast. One second the boar was rushing toward the thane as Wulfgar braced himself, the broad spear lowered so the animal would impale itself on it; then the boar shifted direction and Wulfgar’s spear only scored its tough flank. Aron remembered the spear in his hands and steadied it, bracing it against his body. The wound on the boar’s flank had done nothing to slow it down, and Aron’s heart pounded. He couldn’t see how his own spear would manage to kill it before those tusks got to him.
Just as he was ready for the impact, the boar swerved again, and Aron heard a shout to his left. His eyes flew to Gaeric, whose face was pale and his eyes huge with fear as the boar headed straight for him. The boar lowered its great head to charge, and Aron heard Wulfgar shouting for Gaeric to raise his weapon. Aron could see how loosely he was holding it and knew the maddened animal would have no trouble getting past that feeble defense. Aron didn’t think; he drew back the spear the thane had given him and, with a whispered prayer to Thunor, let it fly.
“No, boy! Don’t throw….” Wulfgar cursed behind him, charging through the brush toward them both.
Aron was transfixed by the sight of the spear hurtling through the air. It buried itself to the hilt in the boar’s chest, the strength of the blow knocking it a few paces to the side so that in its momentum, it missed Gaeric entirely.
Dead silence reigned between the three as the boar’s horrible squealing rent the air; it pawed, kicking furrows into the soft earth, fighting death until it fell silent. Wulfgar looked between his son, who was white-faced and breathing hard, and Aron, who stood a few paces away, weaponless. Aron met his gaze, just as stunned as he was. The spear shouldn’t have pierced the boar hide enough to do any damage. It probably wouldn’t even have noticed the sting enough to draw its attention from Gaeric. Yet somehow, it had.
Aron’s eyes narrowed at a sound behind him, his head whipping around and eyes scanning the trees and brush. He thought he saw a slender form in the shadows and a flash of red hair, but when he blinked it was gone. He scrubbed a hand over his face. Roman’s strange healing had him on edge; now he was seeing things that weren’t there. His strike had been true because Thunor heard his prayer, ’twas nothing more.
Wulfgar crossed the last few steps to Gaeric and pulled him into a quick embrace. Aron heard the other hunters rushing toward them, coming at a run, and the thane let go of his son, ruffling his hair as he did so. Then Wulfgar held his hand out to Aron. He took a hesitant step toward him and found himself hauled close for a tight hug.
“Thank you,” the thane whispered, his voice rough, then released him as the other warriors came crashing through the brush. For several long minutes, chaos reigned. Aron was surprised when the thane pulled him forward and told the others how he’d made the killing blow and saved Gaeric’s life, though the thane did fail to mention how Gaeric had frozen up. Osric said nothing and gave Aron a dark look, but the others clapped him soundly on the back.
“Well done, lad,” Brandr said, examining the slain animal and measuring its tusk. He grinned. “These will make a fine trophy, eh Wulfgar?”
Wulfgar’s smile was wide as he pulled his son over to throw an arm around both him and Aron. “Gather up the kill; we’re cutting this trip short and returning to the hall for a feast. I think my treasure here should discover how much more delicious is the meat of your first kill!”
The other battle-lords nodded and began to gather up the fallen boar. They headed back to the temporary camp and packed up. Aron’s head was still spinning by the time they were on their way back to the hall. It all happened so fast he hadn’t registered any of it, not until he was seated on the horse in front of the thane and Wulfgar wrapped his arm around his waist. “I’m more grateful than you can know, boy. I promise you your reward for your aid will be great.” The thane bent his head and murmured the words against Aron’s ear.
The excitement had died down, leaving Aron drained. He still couldn’t believe he’d killed the boar, especially since he’d done everything wrong. It was all so improbable, but this was only one more in a list of strange occurrences since he’d come to Wulfgar’s house.
Aron turned his head and met the thane’s eyes. Wulfgar smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Aron’s excitement grew again until it was at a rapid boil. He’d killed a boar. A broad smile crossed his face. He’d get to see Roman sooner than he’d thought, and his darkling was more than well enough to attend a feast. “Thank you, my lord,” he finally said in response to the thane’s promise.
Aron couldn’t imagine what Wulfgar’s reward was going to be, but since it wasn’t going to be what he really wanted, he didn’t pay it much mind. He had to admit it was a nice feeling not to be in disgrace anymore, though.
The hunters, except for Osric, laughed amongst themselves, repeating Aron’s tale over again to each other. They traded smiles with him and stopped to share jests.
Roman was never going to believe all of this.