Jack Whyte - The Lance Thrower

Finally, apparently satisfied with what he had seen, he stepped ankle-deep into the stream and looped one end of the rope around one of the deer’s haunches, tying it securely before throwing the other end to me.

“Here,” he growled. “Loop this around your saddle horn and pull this thing up onto the bank, clear of the water.”

My horse made short work of the haul, and moments later I had dismounted and stood looking down at the deer with Chulderic.

“Might have been a natural death,” he murmured, more to himself than to me.

I shook my head. “I don’t know, Magister. It’s an awfully young buck.”

“Aye, it is. But youth is no great protection against death. There’s no sign of any human cause that I can see—not even a wound. But whatever caused it, the beast is newly dead … within the day, anyway. I passed by here last night, just before dark, and there was no sign of it then. Look, you can see the marks my horse made, crossing the stream there.” Sure enough, the marks were unmistakable, and they passed within half a score of paces of where we had found the carcass. Chulderic was still looking about him. “Well, at least it’s clear of the water,” he continued. “That’s what’s important. No point in leaving it to pollute the whole stream. I’ll send someone to bury it later, or at least to drag it away from the water, to where it’ll do no harm.”

“I can do that, Magister,” I said, waving the rope I had begun to coil again.

“No, that’s no job for you—not today. You have more important matters to attend to today.” He moved away, to where his horse had begun cropping contentedly at a drift of lush grass, and raised one foot to the stirrup, but before he remounted he twisted back to face me, speaking over his shoulder as he steadied himself on one leg with both hands braced against his saddle. “You didn’t expect to see that today, did you?”

I blinked at him, not knowing what he meant. “To see what, Magister?”

“Death, lad.” He grasped and heaved, hauling himself back up into the saddle, where he looked at me again, one eyebrow raised high. “Death in the middle of a fine afternoon.”

“Oh. No, I didn’t.”

“No, and you never will … . Even in war, when there’s danger all around you and the enemy is close and you know someone’s going to die at any moment, it’s always unexpected when it actually happens.” He pulled on his reins, making his horse snort and snuffle as it stamped its feet and sidled around to face me. “What about the deer?”

He had lost me again. “What about it, Magister? It was just a dead deer, lying in a stream.”

“Aye, that’s right, that’s what it was. But how did it die? When? Why?”

This distraction from his narrative was trying my patience. “Forgive me, Magister,” I said, “but I cannot think those things are significant. The only thing that matters is that the animal is dead.”

He nodded his head sagely, his lips turned sharply downward in what looked like a pout. “Aye,” he murmured, so quietly that I could barely hear him, “that’s how it always is, lad. Bear that in mind. The fact of the death always outweighs the reasons for it. I have come to believe that more and more as I grow older … .”

I was frowning at him, beginning to feel concern over the way his attention was drifting and changing, but almost as though he had noticed my misgivings, he blinked and shook his head slightly, then looked about him, easing himself around in the saddle as he considered where we were.

“Let’s go now,” he growled eventually. “We’ll head over that way, to the north, and then circle back to the south until we hit the trail we came in on. We should be back at home in less than an hour. What was I talking about before we found this carcass?”

I kicked my horse forward and followed him through the screen of saplings and bushes we had penetrated earlier. Then, once we were back on the main pathway, broad enough to accommodate us side by side, I kicked gently until we were even with Chulderic’s mount.

“The wedding.”

“Aye, well, listen closely and learn. Garth of Ganis was no fool, and no one would ever accuse him of being indecisive. He saw the strong attraction between his daughter Elaine and the young warrior Childebertus—as did everyone else in Ganis—when Ban’s party first arrived, and he watched it flower rapidly during the gaiety and excitement of the week preceding the nuptial ceremony. Fortunately, he had no awareness that the pair had met before, on Ban’s first visit—that escapade had somehow managed to escape his attention—but he could see at a glance what was happening this time, and he was having none of it. He set some trusted men to watch the pair closely day and night, exhorting them to make sure that the two young people never had a moment alone together. But Garth, being a man, knew it was only a matter of time, as the young people’s attraction to each other grew and fed upon itself. He did not distrust his daughter, but he was well aware that she was an impressionable young girl, barely more than a child, and that the buck prancing around her was a seasoned campaigner, a decade older than she, experienced in life and good to look upon. He decided to put an end to their liaison immediately after the wedding, before anything could come of their intensifying attraction.

“On the day of the wedding, Garth watched Elaine, barely paying attention to the bride and her new husband in his concern over his unmarried daughter. He had increasing difficulty in concealing his anger as he saw how eye contact between Elaine and her admirer had given way to touching, their hands constantly hovering close to each other’s so that their fingers were seldom untwined, even though the clasping was always brief and cautious and, they believed, hidden from the eyes of others.

“That night, the night of the wedding feast, the King made sure his daughter’s nurse would have company in her chambers—a collection of visiting children of all ages to keep her awake and thereby ensure that Elaine remained safely where she ought to be, in her own quarters. At the same time, he invited Childebertus to sit among his personal guests at dinner, and took great satisfaction in watching the young man’s discomfort as he sought vainly for some way of making his escape. Each time young Childebertus rose to his feet, the King would speak to him directly, drawing him back into the general conversation and making it impossible for him to leave without being ill mannered and obvious.

“The morning after the festivities, Garth rose up early and went straight to speak to Ban as soon as the new husband showed his face. He told his new son-in-law what he had seen going on between his daughter and Childebertus and what he intended to do about it. He then summoned Childebertus to him privately and confronted the unsuspecting warrior with the realities of his situation and the dire punishment he faced if he should bring disgrace, shame, or embarrassment to Garth or any of his kinsfolk, and most particularly his daughter Elaine, who was betrothed to another.

“Childebertus listened, and then succumbed to a surge of nobility that he was to regret deeply. He admitted openly and freely that he had fallen deeply in love with the King’s beautiful daughter, but swore he had done nothing and never would do anything that might cause Elaine to suffer pain, grief, or shame in the eyes of her family or anyone else. He offered to leave Garth’s lands at once, and swore by his honor and his love for Elaine never to return. Very noble, passionate, and full of self-sacrifice, all of which add up to great foolishness. But the King had been listening closely and he believed every word of your father’s protestations. He thanked Childebertus for his tact and understanding, then gratefully and graciously accepted his offer to leave Ganis immediately, granting him the remainder of that day to make his farewells to everyone except Elaine, and promising that he would personally send him on his way the next morning with no hint of shame or scandal attached to his honor. True to his word, as Childebertus was preparing to depart the following day, Garth gifted him with a magnificent horse and all the trappings to go with it, in token of his gratitude and his appreciation as the bride’s father.