The Scribe(44)

He knew death was certain.

The beast reared up until it was twice Althar’s size. It advanced a couple of paces and roared as though it had the Devil inside it, but just before dealing its final blow, Satan appeared between the beast and his master, barking as if he were the one possessed. The bear hesitated before suddenly swiping at the hound with its giant paw, and Satan was dispatched, his neck broken.

Theresa realized that she had to act. She took out a dart and positioned it in the groove of the crossbow. Lying flat on her stomach, she aimed carefully at the animal’s head. Then she remembered Althar’s words and pointed the weapon at the great brown belly.

She told herself that she only had one chance. Taking aim, she then closed her eyes and fired. The dart flew through the air and disappeared from sight before a bellow could be heard. For a moment she thought she had hit her target, but then she noticed with horror that the dart had hit the animal above one of its hind legs.

She thought Althar would certainly perish. Yet something strange happened. As the beast tried to move forward, its injured leg caused it to lose balance, and it fell heavily onto its left side. For a moment it seemed like it would stumble to its feet again, but it slipped yet again and slid toward the edge of the precipice. The bear kicked out desperately as if it could sense what was about to happen. All of a sudden the rocks that were supporting it came away, and despite its efforts, it fell with them to the bottom of the ravine.

It was some time before Theresa managed to react. When she came to, she ran down to Althar who, in a daze, also appeared to be unaware of quite what had happened.

“Two bears. There were two damned bears.”

“I aimed like you said, but I couldn’t…”

“Don’t worry, lass, you did well… two of the bastards,” he repeated.

He scratched his head and looked at Satan with sorrow in his eyes. Removing his cloak, he wrapped it around him carefully. “He was a good dog. I’ll stuff him so he’s with me always.”


They spent the afternoon skinning the first bear. When they had finished, it occurred to Althar that they could recover the skin from the second one, too. “At the end of the day, all we have to do is climb down into the ravine.”

“Won’t it be dangerous?”

“You wait here,” he said.

He set down his load and started along the path on the hillside that seemed to descend to the bottom of the precipice. After a while he returned along the same route, with something loaded onto his shoulders.

“The skin was no use, eaten away by the mange,” he explained. “But it had nice eyes, so I brought them back with me. Along with the rest of the head.”

When they arrived home, Leonora welcomed them with good tidings: Hoos had risen and was waiting for them at the table.


As they ate their dinner, Theresa thought Hoos seemed more interested in his pottage than their story of the hunt. However, when he had wolfed down the last spoonful, he thanked Althar for saving his life.

“Thank the lass. She’s the one who insisted I put you on the cart.”

Hoos looked at Theresa and his expression hardened. Leonora sensed that something was amiss. “I am grateful,” he said drily. “But after I saved her life, it’s the least I would expect.”

“That’s right,” Althar conceded. “It’s clear the girl can be relied upon.” He laughed and gave Theresa a shove.

Hoos changed the subject. “Your wife tells me you’ve lived here a long time.”

“Verily. I can assure you we don’t miss the filth of the city: the scandalmongers, the false accusations, the gossip—bah! We’re happy here. Just the two of us, doing and eating what we please.” He took a slug on his wine. “Tell me, how are you feeling?”

“Not good, to be honest, but I couldn’t remain lying down any longer.”

“Then you should rest. Until those ribs heal, at least. Otherwise any movement could ruin your lungs.”

Hoos nodded. Every time he swallowed he felt as if barbs were tearing at his insides. He downed his wine, excused himself, and went back to bed. While the women cleared up, Althar spread out the bear skin, placing the two heads on top of some buckets. When he ushered the animals into the cave for the evening, he realized that he missed the scurrying of Satan, who would always help him with the task.


The next day started gloomily, with a blustery wind. A bad day for venturing out, Althar thought to himself, but not so bad for stuffing trophies. Before breakfast he took the animals outside to water them and took the opportunity to empty his bladder. On his return, Theresa and Leonora were up and about. They ate breakfast in silence so as not to wake Hoos. Then Althar picked up the pelt and the bear heads and asked Theresa to accompany him.

“I still need to wash,” said the girl.

Althar assumed she still had her period, so he didn’t insist.

“When you’ve finished, come to the other cave. I’ll need your help.”

Althar swung the skin over his shoulder and walked out with her. Theresa went to the stream to wash with the cloths that Leonora had given her. When she returned she saw that Hoos had woken and was glaring at her.

Leonora seemed to notice this, too, and said, “I’m off to feed the animals. Just call if you need anything.”

They both nodded. When she had gone, Hoos made as if to get up, but he felt a stabbing in his chest and lay back down again. Theresa sat down beside him.