Fire, Bed and Bone by Henrietta Branford

Author:Henrietta Branford [Branford, Henrietta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781406381931
Publisher: Walker Books
Published: 2018-08-01T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

We dogs went off alone to hunt in the morning, before the men and women woke. Oxa bounced along in front of us, jumping to see over the bracken. I came next. Serlo ambled off to one side of us on his great, heavy paws.

Once we had left the hundred smells of camp behind us, and the trees were all round us, we started to tease out the forest scents. Pine needles. Soft green leaves. Wood pigeon. Squirrel, everywhere. Hedgepig. Musky fox. Once, down among some rocks, we smelled brown bear, and ran.

Serlo found what we were after first. A doe and her fawn. Then the doe smell faded, where she had gone off to graze, and we were left with just the smell of fawn, sweet and strong and growing stronger. We took the creature easily. With Serlo, we could have had the mother too if we had wanted her. But the young one was plenty for us, so we left the mother. We ate and cleaned ourselves and slept. I dreamed of the byre and the muzzle, but woke to the green and brown of the forest, good company and freedom.

I knew at once when I woke that I must go to Fleabane. I thought that Serlo would go back to Orderic at the camp, but instead he followed me and Oxa followed him, out of the forest and down into the farmlands, and it was three of us, not one, who laid up under Will Cudweed’s hedge, waiting for nightfall.

Fleabane knew we were there. I heard him whining from inside his broken barrel, but he didn’t bark. After a while Will Cudweed tramped across the yard and kicked the barrel as he passed, to quiet Fleabane. One of his daughters came out with a jug in her hand to fetch ale. Another chased a chicken round the barn, caught it, wrung its neck and sat down on a bale of straw to pluck it. Indoors, Beton raised her voice at a servant.

Light slipped away. Night smells sharpened. Dew and smoke, blood and feathers from the plucked hen. And Fleabane, sweet Fleabane in his barrel. Avens must have done something to annoy someone in the house, because the door flew open and he came yelping out. He smelled us and barked, but he did not come to us. Serlo is a big dog and Avens knew it without seeing him.

At last the house was quiet. Hens clucked occasionally in the barn. Goats bleated. Up in the woods night creatures called. Cold crept out of the grass. We lay and licked our paws. When all was safe, I crept out from under the hedge and ran down to the yard.

Fleabane was curled in the back of his barrel. He had no straw to lie on and was shivering. I could smell pain and fear on him as soon as I put my nose round the mouth of the barrel. His two eyes shone at me out of his small face and his sharp little ears came forwards and his tail thumped softly on the floor.

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