Raymond Feist - King of Foxes

Tal was surprised how quiet the Duke was at the point, and how noisy the two barons were. Both were very uncomfortable at being on foot, apparently, though they claimed to be serious hunters. The Duke stopped, and signalled for Tal and the others to join him.

He was looking at the ground as they approached. ‘Now, look at that,’ he said very softly.

Tal went to one knee and examined the print. He put his finger in the soil and judged the imprint to be no more than a few minutes old.

He stood up and said, ‘Bear.’

Baron Mikhael whistled. ‘But look at the size of it.’

‘That’s the grandfather of all bears,’ said the Duke.

Tal had heard tales of such bears, but they had been hunted to extinction in his grandfather’s grandfather’s day. They were the Ja-haro Milaka , or Grey-Muzzled Bears, of his people’s legends. Perhaps limited hunting here in Roldem had kept them alive. To the Duke he said, ‘I know this breed by reputation. They are aggressive at the best of times. It’s spring, and it’s almost certain one this big is a male, so he will be looking to mate and will not look kindly on anything encroaching his territory.’ Tal glanced around. ‘He’s close. There’s still moisture in the depression. The air would have dried it out in less than an hour.’

‘How big do you judge him?’ asked the Duke.

‘Twelve feet if he’s an inch,’ said Tal. He motioned towards the servants. ‘Arrows will only irritate him. We need heavier weapons.’

‘What do you suggest?’

‘Did you bring a catapult?’

The Duke smiled. ‘I’ve hunted bear before.’

Ignoring protocol, Tal said, ‘As have I, Your Grace, but the largest brown bear you’ve seen is nothing compared to the Grey-Muzzled Bear. You can’t stop it even with a heavy bolt to the shoulder if it’s charging. With other bears you can drop and play dead and perhaps they’ll get bored after mauling you a bit and wander off.

‘These creatures will shred you. They can bite a man’s head off if they are in the mood.’

‘Sounds like it’s best to retreat at first sight,’ said Baron Eugivney.

‘You can’t outrun it,’ said Tal as he started to move towards the servants. ‘In a short burst, it can run down a horse from behind and cripple it with a blow to the spine.’

The Duke didn’t move, while the others started to follow Tal. ‘You’re not suggesting I don’t hunt this creature, Squire?’

‘No, Your Grace, but I am suggesting a better choice of weapons.’

The Duke nodded. ‘What, then?’

‘I would rather have heavy lances from horseback, or heavy spears, but these boar-spears should suffice,’ called Tal over his shoulder.

Duke Olasko took a single step towards the others when from behind him there came a roar to shake the trees. It was a low howl with a strident note, coupled with the grating sound of a piece of wood being torn in half. Tal swore nothing living could make such a noise.

He turned for a second while the others froze and saw a massive brown shape explode from the trees less than ten yards from the Duke. Kaspar spun as if ready to meet a human attacker, in a crouch, his bow held in his left hand, his dagger seeming to fly to his right.

The Lady Natalia remained motionless but cried, ‘Do something!’

Tal threw aside his bow and with two quick steps yanked the boar-spear from the hands of an open-mouthed servant who looked to be on the verge of fleeing. To the other servant, Tal called, ‘Follow me!’

As he ran uphill past the two barons, he shouted, ‘Distract it!’

The Duke didn’t move until the animal was almost upon him, and at the last instant threw himself to the left. The bear swatted at him with his left paw, propelling him in the direction he was already heading. Had it gone the other way, Tal knew, the Duke would be dead with a broken spine. And, for all Tal knew, he was already.

Kaspar had taken a punishing blow and he wasn’t moving, either unconscious or playing dead. The bear’s momentum took it on for a few yards farther, then it wheeled and turned, ready to charge. The two barons and Natalia let fly a volley of arrows and two of the three struck the animal. It turned and howled, giving Tal the time he needed to reach the Duke. Tal came to stand above him.

Seeing an opponent that wouldn’t flee the bear slowed its charge and continued forward at a quick walk. Tal raised the boar-spear high above his head with both hands and shouted as loud as he could, an inarticulate approximation of an animal’s howl.

The bear pulled up just a few feet away and reared on its hind legs. It roared a challenge, and Tal ducked low, thrusting the boar-spear under the animal’s breastbone. The bear howled, stepping back. Once more Tal ducked under and thrust. The broad-headed blade cut deep into the muscle and blood flowed, streaking the beast’s brown fur. Howling in pain, the bear retreated once again, but Tal followed, continuing to duck and thrust into the same spot below the breastbone.

Soon blood gushed like a river down the animal’s torso, pooling in the ground at its feet. The huge creature waved its paws, and again Tal thrust home with the boar-spear.

Tal lost count, but after close to a dozen cuts, the animal staggered backwards, and fell on his left side. Tal didn’t wait, but reached down and grabbed the Duke, gripping his right upper arm and dragging him downhill. Kaspar said, weakly, ‘I can get up, Squire.’

Tal helped Kaspar to his feet. The Duke seemed slightly dazed, but otherwise unhurt, though he was moving slowly. ‘I’ll be feeling that blow to the ribs for a week with each breath I take.’

‘Are you all right?’ Natalia cried, arriving at a run.

The two barons approached, bows in hand, and Mikhael said, ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’

Kaspar said, ‘How did you do that, Squire?’

‘My grandfather,’ said Tal. ‘He told me once of a boyhood hunt. The great bear rears up to challenge. It is the only way to kill one, he said. If you run, he’ll take you down from behind, but if you stand and threaten him, the bear will rise on his hind legs. Then, said my grandfather, you must strike upward, just below the breastbone, hard and fast, for there is a great artery under his heart and if you can nick that with a deep thrust of a spear he will quickly lose consciousness and bleed to death inside.’ He looked over to where the now-comatose bear lay bleeding out, and said, ‘Apparently, Grandfather was right.’

‘Your grandfather must have been an amazing hunter,’ observed Baron Mikhael quietly.

For an instant emotions threatened to overwhelm Tal as the image of his grandfather, Laughter In His Eyes, came to him, smiling as he always did. Tal forced that memory aside, using every mental discipline he had been taught at Sorcerer’s Isle to keep composed. He said softly, ‘He was that.’

‘Well, Squire,’ said the Duke, wobbly enough to allow Baron Eugivney to help him down the hill, ‘I owe you my life. What can I do to repay that?’

Tal suddenly realized that without thought, he had just saved the life of the man he had sworn to kill, but Kaspar read his confusion as modesty. ‘Come. Let’s go back to camp and rest, and we’ll talk about it.’

‘Very well, Your Grace,’ said Tal. For a moment the irony of the situation came down on him in full force and he was caught halfway between wanting to laugh aloud and wanting to curse.

He took a glance back at the dying bear, then shouldered the spear and followed the Duke.

That evening, the Duke lounged in one of the chairs with his feet propped up on cushions, nursing his injured ribs. Tal was amazed at how much strength the man possessed. In his prime, Kaspar was a powerful man with the shoulders of a wrestler or dock worker, and arms knotted thick with muscle. When the servants had removed his shirt, revealing the huge blackening area from the deep bruise dealt him by the bear, Tal saw there was very little fat on the man. In open-handed combat, he would be extremely dangerous.