Pip Vaughan-Hughes - The Vault of bones

I had been standing no more than four horse's lengths from the brute. Now, as I hurtled at full tilt towards him, my mind seemed to split itself into twain. On one side I could sense nothing but my grip on the reins and the smooth wood of the spear haft in my right fist. On the other, with agonising slowness and perfect clarity, I beheld the ground disappearing beneath the mare's hooves, the sunlight shafting through the dusty air, and the boar himself. He was doing a kind of stiff-legged dance, a jig of rage and indecision. Numbly I picked my target: the great, bristled hump behind those pointed ears. The hooves pounded down again. The boar shook his head and lowered it, tusks aimed at my poor mare's belly.

The part of me that was observing all this noted that I had miscalculated: the pig would eviscerate my horse before I could stab it. Then everything happened very fast. The boar shook his head again, and the alaunt who still hung there, forgotten by events, must have bitten down, for the boar suddenly lurched and threw himself sideways, landing on top of the dog with his full weight, just as I lunged with my spear. The mare, seeing the great bulk of the swine rolling towards her, leaped blindly. The spear-point stabbed thin air and I nearly fell from the saddle. As the horse came down I shut my eyes and wrapped my left arm around her neck. My forehead slammed into her mane. The spear snagged on the ground and was torn from my hand. There was a great turmoil, then silence. My mouth was full of horsehair. I looked up. We were standing in the river. Brown water lapped around the mare's knees. She was steaming with sweat and quivering, but I could feel that her panic had departed. Overcome by my blind good fortune, I forgot about the boar for an instant while I stroked the mare's hot neck. Then a horrid noise brought me to my senses.

Rollo must have hesitated. Doubtless he had charged the boar in his turn, but the swine must have found his feet, for the fate he had intended for my horse had befallen Rollo's. It rolled in agony, white ribs and darker, softer things welling from a cavernous rent across its underside. The boar was nowhere to be seen, and I assumed that Rollo was pinned beneath the horse. Then the boar appeared from behind a tree and ran into the horse's belly once more, tearing another horrible wound. The poor animal shrieked for the last time, dropped its head and lay still. The boar commenced its stiff-legged dance again, and then I saw Rollo. He had dragged himself over to an olive tree and was propped against the trunk, spear out and wavering at the boar, who, having killed the horse, had now seen the man. The pig had so far killed four dogs and a horse. Rollo quite plainly had no chance. He looked hurt as well as terrified. I would have to save him. That, or watch him be dismembered. Would I be able to face Aimery and the others if I did not help him? Quite easily, I thought. Oh yes, very easily indeed. I cursed loudly, and louder still when I realised I no longer had my spear. But I had no time now. With a whoop I kicked the mare forward. She lurched towards the bank, sending up sheets of water. Then her hooves were sliding in the mud and we were back on land. She was breathing hard again and showing the whites of her eyes, for the stench of the dead horse's guts was very strong, so I gave her no time to hesitate. Pointing her between dead horse and dead dogs I kicked again and she dashed across the clearing. I had planned to snatch Rollo up but when I reached him he shoved the spear at me. 'Kill it!' he rasped. 'Kill it, for God's sake!'

Fending off the spear, I grabbed it just under the cross-bar. 'Get up on the fucking horse,' I all but screamed at him. I saw my spittle land on his face, but I did not care. 'Get up!'

The mare was starting to prance in distress. I wrenched her head around to the left so that she could not see the boar, who was regarding us coolly, his tusks festooned in rags of horse guts. Meanwhile Rollo had let go of the spear. The boar's eyes flicked from Rollo, who had drawn his dagger, to me, and back again. He blinked and gave a snort, sending flecks of blood and meat in all directions. Then he began to saunter towards us. It was plain that he had decided to finish us off at his leisure. Rollo gave a deep sigh.

'Right then,' he said. You back up a bit. He'll go for me. I'll bring him on, and you come in from the side and stick him.' I looked down in surprise. What I had mistaken for fear had been nothing but shock and pain, which he had mastered. As if to prove the point, he winked at me. Yes?' he asked. I shrugged tightly.

'All right’ I said. The mare wheeled and I managed to get her feet set. The boar's head swung towards me, then back to Rollo. 'Come on, you fat cuckold!' Rollo yelled. 'Come on!' The swine did his stiff-legged dance again, as if overcome by gleeful, murderous anticipation. Rollo waved his dagger. With a squeal, the pig made his decision and launched himself at Rollo. At that moment I yelled at the top of my lungs and charged. The boar saw the horse bearing down on him and paused. The horse saw the boar pause and hesitated in mid-stride. Still holding the spear and the reins I flew clean over the horse's head and before I could even blink, landed with a crash across the bloody shoulders of the boar. With a bellow he rolled over on top of me. I was aware of a hideous, crushing weight, and then the world vanished in a whirl of sparks chasing through my skull.

I opened my eyes a long instant later. There was bloody, matted pig bristle an inch from my face, and the sharp reek of slaughterhouse and sty burning my nose. I was sure my ribs were snapped like chicken bones. The boar gave a lurch. If he thinks I am dead, perhaps he will ignore me, I thought. Instead, I felt the boar's own ribs heave, and a mighty sniffing, like pease-porridge sucked in and out of a giant pair of bellows, came from somewhere near my right shoulder. Then, quick as lightning, the brute rolled away from me and came to his feet. I saw those seething eyes and the yellow bone of tusks, and I screwed my eyes shut and prepared to die. But instead of goring me, the boar gave a final, defiant sniff, pirouetted on his hooves and bolted for the trees. Before I had even released what had almost been my final breath he had vanished. I lay, still as a carving, hardly daring to breathe lest my ribs crumble. The sun was almost overhead and was lancing down through clouds of dust. I heard laughter, and Rollo's face appeared above me, pale as milk but contorted with mirth. He still held his dagger.

‘Petrus! Christ above, Petrus! What did you say to him, the beast? Christ's blood and bones, he took offence, all right! What did you whisper in his ear, eh?'

I could not even find the strength to reply. Instead I looked past his face at the swirling motes, and wondered vaguely if I had shit my breeches. Rollo was almost doubled over with laughter. He was prattling on, and every word seemed to make him laugh the harder.

'Something nasty about his old sow, what? Or his daughters, eh? Eh? How-'

The babble halted in mid-flow. As Rollo's face came into focus through the sun's glare, I saw that mirth had vanished. His eyes were very round and his lips had gone quite white. He dropped the dagger, which chinked into the ground an inch from my hip.

What…?' I began, as he straightened up and swatted at something behind his back. Then there was a hiss and the grey feathers of an arrow appeared, like a grotesque sleight of hand, under his armpit. With a sound like the snapping of fingers another arrow transfixed his cheek, and two more struck his side. He scrabbled at the bright snakes' heads of metal that jutted from his belly, and our eyes met. They were full of the most intense concentration as though he sought for some answer in my own, and his face was grave and strangely noble, despite the horrible adornment it had received. Then a great belch of gore spewed from his pierced mouth and his eyes went blank. Slack-limbed, he toppled backwards. The arrows splintered loudly as he hit the ground and lay still.