Krispos Rising by Harry Turtledove

Author:Harry Turtledove
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Magic, Fantasy fiction, Fiction, Fantasy, Videssos (Imaginary place), General
ISBN: 9780345361189
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 1991-01-14T08:21:28+00:00

VIII

THE HUNTERS AMBLED ALONG ON THEIR HORSES, LAUGHING and chatting and passing wineskins back and forth. They sighed with relief as they rode under a stand of trees that shielded them from the pounding summer sun. “Who'll give us a song?” An-thimos called out.

Krispos thought of a tune he'd known back in his village. “There was a young pig who got caught in a fence,” he began. “A silly young pig without any sense …” If the pig had no sense, neither did the men who tried various unlikely ways of getting it loose.

When he was through, the young nobles who filled the hunting party gave him a cheer. The song was new to them; they'd never had to worry about pigs themselves. Krispos knew he was no great minstrel, but he could carry a tune. Past that, no one much cared. The wineskins had gone back and forth a good many times.

One of the nobles cast a glance at the sun, which was well past noon. “Let's head back to the city, Majesty. We've not caught much today, and we've not much time to catch more.”

“No, we haven't,” Anthimos agreed petulantly. “I'll have to speak to my uncle about that. This park was supposed to have been restocked with game. Krispos, mention it to him when we return.”

“I will, Majesty.” But Krispos was willing to believe it had been restocked. The way the Avtokrator and his companions rode thundering through woods and meadow, no animals in their right minds would have come within miles of them.

Grumbling still, Anthimos swung his horse's head toward the west. The rest of the hunters followed. They grumbled, too, and loudly, when they rode back out into the sunshine.

All at once, the grumbles turned to shouts of delight—a stag sprang out of the brush almost in front of the hunters’ faces and darted across the grass.

“After him!” Anthimos yelled. He dug spurs into his horse's flank. Someone loosed an arrow that flew nowhere near the fleeing stag.

None of the hunters—not even Krispos, who should have paused to wonder—bothered to ask himself why the stag had burst from cover so close to them. They were young enough, and maybe drunk enough, to think of it as the perfect ending the day deserved. They were altogether off guard, then, when the pack of wolves that had been chasing the stag ran onto the meadow right under their horses’ hooves.

The horses screamed. Some of the men screamed, too, as their mounts leaped and reared and bucked and did their best to throw them off. The wolves yelped and snarled; they'd been intent on their quarry and were at least as taken aback as the hunters by the sudden encounter. The stag bounded into the woods and vanished.

Maybe only Krispos saw the stag go. His mount was a sturdy gelding, fast enough and strong enough, but with no pretense to fine breeding. Thus he was in the rear of the hunters’ pack when they encountered the wolves, and on a beast that did not have to be coaxed out of hysteria if a leaf blew past its nose.

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