The Hunter's Tale by Margaret Frazer

Author:Margaret Frazer [Frazer, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2010-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Hugh made no haste homeward despite the day was wearing out and suppertime was near. The small excuse he would give if asked what was wearing out and suppertime was near. The small excuse he would give if asked what kept him so long was that in the afternoon’s heat neither he nor the hounds had felt like hurrying. That was somewhat true enough; Bane and Brigand, pacing patiently beside Foix, were lightly panting and he had taken off his doublet and untied his shirt at the throat. But the true reason he was making no haste—the reason he hardly admitted to himself, let be to anyone else—was that he did not want to be home. Away from the manor, he could almost believe things were as they had been those few weeks after his father’s death. Could almost believe that when he reached the manor he would see to the hounds, talk with Degory awhile, wander to the hall, and wash off the day’s dirt while listening to Tom complain over some village disagreement he had probably enjoyed settling. Miles would be leaning easily on an end of the high table, teasing Lucy or Ursula. Mother would be coming from the kitchen, having seen that supper was nearly ready and tucking a stray strand of hair back under her wimple. Hugh could not remember her hair ever straying loose while Sir Ralph was alive.

Those had been good days, with Tom happy to have all his own way with the manor, Miles not constantly ready to be angry, Mother content and smiling, no one wary with waiting for Sir Ralph’s next anger. Even when Mother and Ursula were gone to the nunnery and Lucy to stay with Elyn, the days had gone on being good.

And now they were not.

He did not mean to turn aside from the greenway as he came through the woods. He had not been to the gathering place since the day Sir Ralph had died and had no thought to go there now, but as they reached the side-trail that went to it, Brigand lagged, looked up at him, and whined, letting Hugh know he was thirsty and saw no reason he should wait until the kennel when water was close here. Hugh hesitated but suddenly wanted a drink, too, and why not of fresh, cold spring water? It was hardly as if Sir Ralph had died there. And without admitting to his thought that he would now be even later reaching home, he turned Foix into the side-trail.

Bane and Brigand went eagerly ahead of him. It was their tails stirring into a pleased wagging that told him someone was in the clearing, someone they knew, and so he was only half-surprised to see Miles sitting sideways on the wall around the spring, staring down into water, so far into whatever he was seeing or thinking that, with the water’s soft burbling over the pool’s edge to cover any small sounds of their coming, his first warning he was not alone was Bevis standing up from the grass beside him.

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