Sworn Brother by Tim Severin Read Free Book Online Page B

cheerfully. He was the one missing a hand. ‘Got everything ready, Edgar?’ They both seemed to be on familiar terms with the royal huntsman.
    ‘Just off to fetch Cabal,’ answered Edgar and hurried to the kennel. He returned, leading a dog I had noticed during my unhappy days as a kennelman because it was different from the rest of the pack. This particular dog did not bite or yap, or run around like a maniac. Larger than the others, it was dark brown with a drooping muzzle and a mournful look. It kept to itself and was a steady, quiet, sensible creature. I had almost liked it.
    ‘Mount up!’ Edgar said to me. I looked puzzled. I could see no spare horse. There were only three, and each already had a rider. ‘Here, lad,’ called out Kjartan, leaning down from his saddle and holding out his one remaining hand for me to grasp. It seemed that we were to ride two-up on the animals. Edgar had already sprung up on the saddle behind the servant. One thing about hunting, I thought to myself as I scrambled up behind the huscarl and grabbed him round the waist to steady myself, it’s a great leveller — it makes huntsman, huscarl, servant and former kennelman all equal.
    ‘Never been hunting like this before?’ Kjartan asked me over his shoulder. He spoke kindly and was obviously looking forward to the day’s events. I wondered how he could go hunting when he lacked a hand. He could not pull a bow, and he was not even carrying a spear. His only weapon was a scramsaxe, the long-bladed knife of all trades.
    ‘No, sir,’ I replied. ‘I’ve done a bit of hunting on foot, small animals mostly, in the forest. But not from horseback.’
    ‘Well, wait and see,’ Kjartan said. ‘This will be part on horse and part on foot. Edgar knows what he is doing, so it should be successful. We only have to do what he says, though luck plays a certain part, as well as skill. The red deer are just getting into their fat time. Good eating.’ He began humming gently to himself.
    We rode into the forest to an area where Edgar and I had recently noted the slots of a red-deer stag and his group of four or five hinds. As we approached the place, the dog, which had been running beside the horses, began to cast back and forth, sniffing the ground and searching. ‘Great dog, Cabal, good fellow,’ said Kjartan. ‘Getting old and a bit stiff in the limbs, but if any dog can find deer, he can. And he never gives up. Great heart.’ Another besotted dog lover, I thought to myself, but I had to admire the serious attention that old Cabal was giving to every bush and thicket, running here and there, sniffing. From time to time he halted and put his great muzzle up into the air, trying to catch the faintest whiff of scent.
    ‘There!’ said Kjartan quietly. He had been watching Cabal and the dog had dropped his muzzle very close to the ground and was moving forward through the forest, clearly tracking a quarry. ‘Silent as he should be,’ grunted Kjartan approvingly. When I failed to appreciate the compliment for the dog, he went on, ‘Most dogs start to bark or whine when they catch the scent of deer, but not old Cabal. Specially trained to stay silent so as not alarm the quarry.’
    We had slowed our horses to the gentlest of walks and I noticed that the riders were taking care to make as little noise as possible. Kjartan glanced across at Edgar, and when Edgar signalled with a nod, our little group stopped immediately. The servant dismounted, took Cabal’s leash and led the dog quietly to where he could fasten the leash to a sapling. Cabal, still silent, lay contentedly down on the grass and lowered his head on his paws. It seemed his job was done.
    The servant returned and we all closed up in a small circle to listen to Edgar. He spoke in a soft whisper.
    ‘I think we’ll find the deer just ahead and we’ve come to them upwind, so that’s good. You, Aelfric,’ here he indicated the servant, ‘mount up with Gisli, Thorgils stays with