'You can stay to the rear,' Asa called back. 'The women of the Attacotti will show Rome how it's done.' The Celt's antipathy toward Valeria had grown since the Roman had ridden back to Tiranen with Arden.
Bitch, Valeria thought. 'I didn't say I was afraid, Asa.'
'You will be. And Arden will be too busy, Roman, to look after you this time.'
They rode down the slope of a cirque into a narrow defile and then into another forested valley, reining up at the edge of the wood. Mael jumped down and unwrapped a bloody fleece, taken from a sheep that the boar had killed, and gave their quarry's scent to the dogs. 'Hunt!' The pack set off in frenzied tumult, baying to the wind, and Arden gave a great cry and led the hunters in pursuit.
So fast and disorienting was the chase through the trees that it was like tumbling down a hill. Valeria's mare kept pace with the others, hooves pounding, but it ran outside her own control, branches flashing wickedly past, the Roman clinging desperately just to keep to her saddle. The men yipped, the Celtic women added a high, wavering warble, eerie and foreboding, and the blur of the chase was like being caught up in an unstoppable wave.
Surely the boar would hear them and flee.
Yet the barbarians hollered as if the animal was waiting for them.
She glanced in wonder at the people riding with her, their faces flushed, their eyes bright, their mouths open, their hair rippling in the wind, and realized they'd become the boar in their own minds. Their thoughts echoed the beast's thoughts, imagining it rousing itself sleepily out of the mud, grunting in perplexity at the approaching thunder, shaking its fat, bristled head at the baying of the dogs, pawing the earth with its sharp hooves, and then trotting tentatively up and down the tunnels of its thicket, wondering who dared disturb its bloated slumber. And somehow the boar heard the human thoughts as the Celts heard his, both taking the measure of the other. Valeria suddenly knew, as certainly as the Celts did, that the animal wouldn't try to escape.
That it was seeking them as they sought it.
They slowed as the ground dipped and the trees became denser. The hounds were bunched at a thicket, howling in confusion, and the party halted so weapons could be readied. Brisa strung her bow and notched an arrow. Asa unsheathed one of her javelins, balancing it lightly in her slim fist. Arden rested the butt of his lance on the ground as if to anchor his horse, his hand near the weapon's head.
Hool leaped down with his stout spear. 'It was my cow that was gutted a fortnight ago. Give me first call, Caratacus.'
'Don't you want your horse?'
'Horses panic. I trust my own feet, where I can meet the pig eye to eye.'
Mael was shouting at the dogs, urging them into the thicket. The animals hesitated a moment, milling like an uncertain mob, and then finally the lead hound charged in, giving the rest enough courage to follow. They were bred to hunt! The pack's frantic barking echoed as they raced down the labyrinth of tunnels, fading with distance and then falling to strange silence for a moment. Then Valeria heard a snort and low grunt, drowned out immediately by renewed furious barking. The dogs had found the boar! There was a yelp, the sound cut short as if a sword had sliced it off, and then a pounding as something huge and heavy ran through the thicket, dogs howling in pursuit. The top of the brambles quaked as the quarry moved, the disturbance coming in a long, rolling wave. Hool tensed, peering down a dark tunnel, and then with unworldly speed something huge and black exploded from the tangle.
It was Erebus! Valeria gasped, and her mare sidestepped in alarm. The monster was far bigger than she'd expected, its shoulder almost waist-high and its upright tusks as long as a man's hand. It seemed all head and shoulder and long shaggy tail, like something hurled from a catapult. There was a curdling human cry of revenge as Hool moved to block it, but the boar was quicker, and wily. Swerving from Hool's lunge and then cutting back faster than her eye could follow, the beast turned under the warrior's spear and plowed into Hool's legs as powerfully as a rolling log. The Celt was butted up and over, flipping a neat somersault, and when he came down his legs were bloody and the boar was careening past Arden's horse, the chieftain cursing as he threw his lance too late. Brisa shot an arrow that also missed, and she swore like a decurion when it whickered uselessly into the brush. Then the animal was gone.
'This way!' The riders were in motion now, pounding after the boar, the surviving dogs pouring out to add to the furious chase. Their quarry was far ahead, saplings rocking from its passage, and then all of them disappeared into the trees.
Valeria, shaken by the animal's ferocious speed, didn't follow. She struggled to get her shuddering mare under control and finally trotted Boudicca over to the stunned Hool, worried that the man was seriously hurt. There was a red gash on one thigh, and the other leg was bent peculiarly, as if broken. He was grimacing.
'Are you all right?' she asked unnecessarily.
'Angry as a wolverine and foolish as a goat,' he gasped. 'By Taranis and Esus, I don't think I've ever seen one that big. Or that fast.'
'It's a wonder you're still alive.' She jumped down from her horse and used her dagger to cut a strip of cloth from her tunic. 'I've got to get that bound before you bleed to death.' He winced as she bandaged the wound. 'And we must splint that leg. You're lucky you aren't dead, Hool.'
'If I were, I'd have already seen the worst the underworld could frighten me with. I've never faced an uglier snout, not even on Luca's homely daughters.'
'His eyes were like coals. His tusks like knives.' She glanced around for something to splint him with. 'Maybe we can use the shaft of your spear to set your leg.'
The weapon had fallen to the ground, and she picked it up. Valeria was surprised at how heavy and yet how balanced a spear was. She'd never hoisted one before. She could still feel the warmth and sweat from Hool's hands on the shaft's grip. The head was blue iron, filed and sharp. 'It's too long, though.'
'Don't break my spear!'
'Maybe we could strap it along your body.'
'Wait for Arden and Mael. They'll know what to do.'
'How long before they come back?'
'When the boar's dead.' He lay back on the leaves of the forest floor, resting.
They waited in companionable silence, grateful for each other's company in the green dimness of the forest. They could still hear the others, but the sound was distant and faint. Perhaps the boar had slipped away. Valeria hoped they'd give up soon and come help their companion.
They didn't. Time drifted.
Finally something cracked in the bushes. Were the hunters finally returning? She looked up, following the sound to the brambles, and saw a dark shape watching, panting heavily. One of the injured dogs? No, it seemed too big…
Her breath caught, her heart stalled.
It was the boar.
Hool saw it too and sat painfully upright. 'Get on your horse,' he ordered.
She took a step backward. What was the boar doing here? Somehow it had circled through the forest well ahead of its pursuers, come back to its home thicket, and then followed the scent of human blood…
'Go get help, as quickly as you can!'
The animal was very near, as big as a bear, its snout hideous, its back a hedge of upright, quivering bristles, a drool of blood and saliva dripping from its tusks. She could smell its rankness as it eyed them.
She still had the spear. Should she give it to the man?
The boar pawed, snorting.
'Hurry!' Hool shouted.
It charged. Valeria sprang for her horse, the mount already starting to bolt in terror. The mare screamed. Or was that her scream? She glimpsed bunched fury, and then the boar ran over the wounded Celt like a careening chariot, the two tumbling as Hool roared in pain. The pig butted at the man with its snout, the tusks cutting at him again and again as he was rolled along the ground. Hool howled with frustration and helpless rage, beating at the animal with his arms as it shook him like a doll. She had to do something!
Valeria was in the saddle now, sawing at the reins with one hand and the spear in her other. Her mare was dancing frantically. Finally she managed to drag Boudicca's head around and kicked as hard as she could, driving her mount toward the boar before the horse knew what it was doing. That got her close enough to lean and jab with the spear, hard, at the creature's skinny hindquarter.
