Ona young. I young. I happy.
It surprised Lasgol that Camu should attach so much importance to staying young, rather than growing up. He rubbed his chin and pondered this for a while. Camu meanwhile was watching the river. He had spotted some trout under the bridge and wanted to go after them. Unfortunately, he had still not fully recovered, and if he started bouncing around, he would be in pain – and he knew it. Ona too could see the trout, but unlike naughty Camu, she was good and simply ignored them.
Lasgol had an idea. Ona. Catch trout, he ordered.
Ona got up from the grass where she was lying beside Camu and very stealthily approached the river. Lasgol and Camu watched her with interest. The panther, like the expert hunting cat she was, hid among the tall grass of the riverbank and waited for a long moment.
Not succeed.
Of course, she’ll succeed. You wait and see.
Trout escape.
They may escape from you, but that doesn’t mean they’ll get past Ona.
I know.
You want to bet?
Bet? the creature asked, not having the slightest idea what the concept meant.
While Lasgol tried to explain as best he could what betting consisted of and when it was done, Ona went on staring at the water, her eyes were fixed on the trout, which swam around in ignorance of the danger they were in.
…. and that’s what betting is.
Fun. I bet.
What will you bet?
Before Camu could think of something, Ona plunged into the river with an enormous, well-judged leap. With one swipe of her claws, she sent a trout flying out of the water. It fell on the ground of the bank, flapping its tail.
Very good, Ona.
The panther went over to the trout, picked it up in her jaws and took it back to Lasgol, who thanked her by scratching her head and ears.
Ona. Good.
Lucky, Camu transmitted in disbelief.
It wasn’t luck. Ona’s an excellent hunter. Not like some I could mention …
What some?
Lasgol slapped his forehead. That was sarcasm. Do you remember, I explained that to you?
Remember, but not understand.
Lasgol gave a snort of frustration. Let’s leave the explanations and games for today and go on to the village. I’m really looking forward to getting there.
They went on down the main street of Skad, with Lasgol riding Trotter and Ona on his right. Camu followed, camouflaged so as not to be seen. The villagers they passed on their way were so startled by the sight of Ona that more than one of them gave a startled leap and ran off. Others realized that it was Lasgol and greeted him respectfully, without being afraid for their lives. He returned the greetings and smiled. It was nice that his neighbors should recognize and greet him. There had been a time when this had not been the case, but he preferred not to dwell on past pains and instead enjoy the present, which was much more inviting. He was returning to his own village, with Camu and Ona beside him. People were treating him with respect because he was Lasgol Eklund, Ranger, which he found satisfying. He felt a pleasant warmth rising up his chest as far as his neck.
He greeted a woman with her son who had recognized him and was staring at Ona as if she were the most fascinating thing in the world. His mouth was open so wide that he could have put his fist in it, and as he pointed, he was pulling at his mother’s skirt, trying to catch her attention. Lasgol had been wondering whether to leave Ona in a nearby wood, but he had decided that since Skad was his own village (and not a very large one), its inhabitants were not particularly hostile and as he himself was well-known, he would have no trouble.
At the end of a side street, he saw two locals he recognized at once, and stopped Trotter. Ona stopped too and stared at the two men. One was tall and strong, the prototype Norghanian warrior, an impressive figure. The other was the complete opposite.
“Lasgol Eklund! What a surprise!”
Lasgol nodded respectfully. “Chief Gondar Vollan.”
“An honor to receive such an illustrious visitor in the village,” said Limus Wolff, his assistant, with a sincere smile.
“Thank you.” Lasgol scanned them surreptitiously and was able to confirm that they looked well, which pleased him very much. He dismounted, and he and the Chief took one another by the shoulders.
The Chief looked delighted to see him. “How are you? Everything all right?”
Lasgol nodded and smiled. “Everything’s fine.” He turned to Limus and offered him his hand. The other shook it solemnly.
“The Hero of Skad returns home and in one piece, and that’s cause for celebration,” he said.
Lasgol blushed. “I thought it would be good to visit the village and my estate, to see how things are round here. It’s been a long time … and what with the war …”
“It’s been too long,” the Chief said. “I was beginning to think something had happened to you.”
Lasgol did his best to make light of things. “Luckily I’m still in one piece. I see you two have survived the bad times too.”
“It was really tough,” Gondar said, “but we’re still alive.”
“Did you take part in the battle of Estocos?” Lasgol asked with interest. The Chief was a good warrior, strong as an ox, and he was sure to have been recruited.
“Yes, I was with Count Malason. I fought at his side during the whole campaign.”
“I guessed as much.”
“We were on opposing sides …” Gondar stared into Lasgol’s eyes, as if trying to guess whether this was going to be an issue between them.
Lasgol picked up the signal. To the Chief he was a Ranger and had been with the East. They had
