The Scribe(42)

Theresa blushed so fiercely she thought her face would stay red for the rest of her life. “Will you teach me?” Theresa said, trying to conceal her embarrassment.

“Teach you what? How to wash a prick?”

“No, good God. To make garum!”

“Ah, of course. I’ll teach you that, and other things you need to know,” she said with a grin.

While some turnips were roasting, Leonora took the opportunity to talk to Theresa about wine. Not the everyday stuff, drunk to quench the thirst, always young and watery, but the type that was served for important celebrations: pure, fragrant, glossy, ruby red… the drink that made the timid eloquent, that strengthened the hearts of the cowardly… every drop of that wine was a sin.

“I’ve never tried that kind,” Theresa admitted.

“Well, we have an amphora we’re keeping for a special occasion. If you catch the bear, we’ll open it tomorrow.”

At dusk, Althar returned, sporting a broad smile. He had found the beast’s trail.

“He’s still there, the big brute. Shitting in the same cave as last year,” he announced euphorically. Dropping his gear, he laughed as he slapped Leonora on the backside.

Together they sat down to eat vegetable soup and salted rib of boar accompanied by watered-down wine. Althar slurped down his soup eagerly and quickly served himself another helping, for after setting traps all afternoon, he felt he could have eaten a cow.

“The girl cooked it,” Leonora informed him.

“Well, I never! So I did well to take her on then?” he laughed. “How’s the patient? Has he woken yet?”

“He opened his eyes for a moment, but I don’t know. He seems groggy. The blow to the head, perhaps.”

“He must be confused. I’ll go and take a look at him.”

They soon finished eating. While Leonora cleared up, Althar and Theresa went over to Hoos, who opened his eyes when he felt the damp cloth on his brow. He looked at Theresa and seemed to recognize her, but his eyelids closed and he resumed his rest.

Althar dug a blob of wax out of his ear and pressed the side of his head to Hoos’s chest. “I can’t hear any whistling.”

“And that’s good?”

“Of course. If the rib had perforated the lung he would have snuffed it by now. Tomorrow we’ll try to get him up and walking round for a while.”

They carefully covered him, brought the animals into the cave and barred the door, then said goodnight and went to bed.

A few hours later, Theresa woke to feel Satan licking her face. It was not yet dawn, but Leonora was already warming the stewpot and Althar was singing softly to himself, pacing around the cave.

“Little bear, your time is up. Althar’s going to eat you up,” he intoned with a wide smile.

They ate breakfast and wrapped themselves in furs. Althar armed himself with bow and quiver, slung a net over his shoulder, and picked up three iron traps. Then he handed a crossbow to Theresa.

“This will do,” he declared. “My dear! This evening you’ll have a new overcoat!”

Leonora laughed and planted several kisses on him. Then she cuffed Theresa around the head and wished her luck.

The sun was starting to rise as they left the cave. It was a clear, crisp day, which Althar took as a good omen. They left the horse behind, since Althar said it could alert the bear to their presence. While they walked, Theresa confessed that she was scared.

The old man reassured her, “You won’t have to do anything. Just keep watch.”

“And what about this strange bow?”

“You mean the crossbow? I won it from a soldier in Aquis-Granum. I’d never seen such a thing, to be honest, but it’s effective. I’ll show you how to use it.”

He drove one end of the bow into the ground and put his foot on it. Then he pulled the string up with both hands until it slotted into a notch.

“It’s not a toy, so be careful. This is the nut,” he indicated, “and the thing underneath is the trigger. Insert the dart in the groove. See? Then hold it firmly in both hands and aim.”

Theresa lifted the weapon but was unable to keep it up. “It’s too heavy,” she complained.

“Rest it on the ground,” he grumbled. “And listen to me carefully: If the time comes when you need to use it, you will only have one chance. You will not be able to reload, so aim well and shoot at the stomach, agreed?”

Theresa nodded. She went down on the ground and aimed the weapon.

“Hold it steady.”

Althar pointed at a rotting tree trunk, the width of two men. On his signal Theresa pressed the trigger purposefully. The dart whistled through the air and was lost in the undergrowth.

“Try again,” Althar grumbled. She attempted it twice more with varying success. On the fourth attempt Althar declared the training over.

“Let’s get going, or the morning will run away from us.”

As they walked, Althar explained that bears normally hibernate from the end of November until the thaw. “People think they sleep like logs, but they’re actually light sleepers. That’s why we have to be very careful.”

“And what if there’s more than one?” asked the young woman.

“Unlikely. Bears hibernate alone, so that shouldn’t worry us.”