Chapter 36
Under the skeletal trees, Relam led his guards quietly through the Midwood. The forest, which had been full of the living colors of green and brown on Relam’s last trip, had turned into a gray and white landscape, leeched of its color by winter. Relam had planned for this, telling his guards to dress in gray and white and doing the same himself. Even the horses they rode blended with the landscape, Relam riding a dappled gray, his guards riding a palomino and another gray.
The prince kept his eyes on the ground, looking for tracks in the snow, trusting his guards to keep an eye out for threats all around. Every so often, Relam would glance up and scan the surrounding forest for any sign of animals, then return to looking for tracks.
Finally, an hour in, they found clear imprints of cloven hooves in the snow. They were not large, but after following them a few meters the first set of tracks was joined by another set, overlapping and mixing with the first in a confused mess of crushed snow and deformed prints.
“Two deer,” Relam murmured. “Maybe more. At least one male.” He glanced at his guards. “Stay quiet from here on in, unless you see a threat.”
Galen nodded gravely and Wil gave Relam a confident wink and a grin. Relam rolled his eyes in reply, then urged his horse to follow the tracks, slipping one of the throwing spears from its place on the side of his saddle as he did so. He tested the point, making sure it was razor sharp, and nodded in satisfaction.
The tracks were several hours old, water collecting in the bottom of them where the snow had melted, so Relam increased the pace. They did not sight anything before midday, though there was plenty of other evidence of animals in the woods. Tracks of hares and rodents, small and shallow, the clawed footprints of various birds. But no other deer or larger prizes. Thankfully, they saw no sign of bears either.
They broke at noon for a quick meal. The tracks were fresher by now, less than a half-hour old. Relam felt his pulse accelerating as he realized that they were catching up, and judging by the prints the buck was a large one. They had seen other signs of the animal as it passed as well, fur caught on thorns, broken off branches where the deer had shoved past. They had even found some droppings, though these did little to tell Relam how large his quarry was or how impressive.
After the hasty lunch, Relam and his guards set off again, in hot pursuit of their target. All around them the forest was silent, not a creature stirring amid the ice and snow. The wind gusted and branches rattled together overhead, a menacing and unearthly racket.
They continued hunting, still closing in. The tracks were fresher now and Relam began scanning the forest more frequently. Then, as they approached a wide clearing, he spotted his prize for the first time.
The buck was enormous, one of the largest Relam had ever seen. Standing beside it were two smaller does and a second buck. Relam held up a clinched fist, signaling his guards to stop, and raised his throwing spear, taking careful aim. The trees were slightly in his way, making it a difficult throw, and the wind was gusting all the more fiercely now that the moment had finally come. Relam urged his horse to take a single step to the right to improve his chances. As the heavy beast moved, a branch cracked under its hooves with a resounding SNAP!
Relam froze, hardly daring to breathe. The deer had all looked up in unison, staring slightly to the side of Relam, their ears rotating and twitching, trying to discern where the noise had come from, where the sudden threat was waiting. The hind legs of every one of the creatures tensed as they prepared to bound away at the first sign of danger.
Go back to whatever you were doing, Relam pleaded mentally. Forget about the noise, it was nothing. Just a branch breaking under the weight of ice.
For several long, agonizing moments, the tableau stretched on. Then, the larger of the bucks snorted, took a step forward, and began nosing the frosty ground for suitable grazing material. Relam let out his breath quietly, steadying himself for the throw. The buck had stepped closer to Relam, providing him with a better shot. All he had to do now was finish the job.
The prince stood in his stirrups and cast, aiming for the heart, just above the left foreleg. Then, he urged his horse forward at a run, already drawing another of the light spears.
The first spear struck the buck precisely where Relam had aimed, and the graceful creature crumpled to the frozen ground. The remaining three deer bounded away as Relam dismounted and knelt beside his prize.
The velvet eyes, now flat and lightless in death, stared up at him. The hind legs still trembled, trying to muster the strength to propel the deer away from its hunter. Relam laid a hand on the deer’s flank, then quickly ended its life with a slash across the neck from the second spear.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking at the magnificent creature. Its shaggy winter coat was matted with mud and snow from the fall, and the fur around the wound was stained red. But it was the largest Relam had ever successfully hunted, and almost certain
