The Emery Chronicles: The White King's Woman (FIRST BOOK)

Chapter 8

Chapter Eight- The Hunt

The next morning, the air was crisp and cool as the sun rose slowly into the sky. White, fluffy clouds parted to reveal the brilliant ball of light, and the sky was a shimmering blue. It would be a beautiful Spring day.

Birds sang a good morning song and butterflies flitted around the Whittier's garden, where Gavin and his men and Whittier and his men were preparing to take off on the hunt. They had broken their fast on poached eggs with spiced sausage, warm biscuits, fresh cheese, and milk sweetened with honey. Now, with their bellies full and warm, the men rode off into the forests, Whittier's wife and younger children waving goodbye from the mansion gates.

The men rode hard and fast, going deeper between the tall green trees. They rode off the main forest path, into hunting grounds, and only then did they slow down. All the men quieted as one as their horses walked through the meandering path between the trees. The men stopped as one as a squire from Whittier's side hopped off his horse, bent down to the ground and picked up a handful of the dirt. He squished the dirt between his fingers and sniffed it.

"There's boar close by," he announced. The men cheered quietly, excited by the idea of hunting a wild beast. "The scent is still strong; the boar must have passed through here a mere twenty minutes ago, at most."

The men got even more riled up at the prospect of the boar being so close. The squire hopped back onto his horse and they rode off, going in the direction the squire pointed out.

They rode for about ten minutes before someone in the front of the hunting party signaled for them to stop. They had reached a small stream, and just across it was the largest boar Gavin had ever seen. Just it's head was the size of Gavin's torso. It had large tusks that stuck out of its snarling mouth, and it's body was a huge heaving mass of meat and fat. This boar would make an excellent meal.

Whittier slowly raised his bow and arrow, aiming towards the boar's eye. If he could get the eye, the boar would die instantly and none of the other meat would be sawed through with the arrow.

Whittier let the arrow go just as the boar moved it's head. The arrow whizzed past the boar's head and stabbed through a tree trunk behind the beast. The boar became aware of the impending danger and began to sprint through the woods.

"Charge!" The men raced after the giant wild pig, riding their horses through the stream. Water splashed against Gavin's legs as Blake raced through the stream, but the king barely noticed his trousers getting soaked.

The men raced after the pig, shooting arrows and, if they got close enough, they would swing their swords at the boar. The pig was as smart as it was big; it dodged every arrow and swing of blade, running through the forest faster than Gavin thought the fat pig could. Gavin urged his horse forward, racing ahead.

The king's horse ran up until they were the first riders in the mass of hunters. Gavin was right behind the pig, he could almost smell the stink of it's sweaty fur. Blake was tiring, but Gavin pushed her forward, bringing them right next to the boar.

They ran side by side, boar and man on horse, sprinting until each animal could scarcely take in a breath. Gavin swung his majestic royal sword down toward the pig, but the animal made a surprise left turn and Gavin had to scramble to keep up. Gavin ran his horse back up next to the boar again, grinning with the excitement of the chase. He swung twice more, missing each time. He laughed at his poor aim, and continued to urge Blake toward the pig.

Finally he got close enough. He looked straight into the pig's eyes, seeing the fear and the knowledge. The boar knew the chase was over, and he had lost the hunt. Gavin arched his sword upward and brought it down into the boar's eye, blood spewing out from the pig's head as it dropped to the floor, dead at last.

As the others caught up, they cheered and congratulated the king on his victory.

"It was quite a large hunt. Exactly fit for a king!" Lord Whittier congratulated, smiling happily and wiping sweat from his brow. The others also wiped sweat from their faces and began to bring their breathing back to a normal level. As their heartbeats slowed and the adrenaline leaked out of them, the men hopped off their horses and began to take out their carving knives. They assembled around the pig and began to strip the boar of it's skin and fur, until only a fatty meat carcass was left. The smell of the blood filled the air around the men, and Gavin felt himself becoming an excited hunter again. He wanted to chase and kill again.

"Let's wrap the carcass up and continue on with the hunt," Gavin said to the men.

Lord Whittier hesitated, then slowly replied, "Perhaps we should head back to town? Time flew and it is already noon. We could go back to my mansion and have lunch, feast on your boar."

"No, I'm not hungry quite yet. What about my men?" Gavin asked his own entourage.

Finnian whispered with some of the men and then answered Gavin, "We have biscuits and wine to last us awhile if m'lord wishes to continue."

"Then I must bid you a goodbye here, Lord Whittier." Gavin told the Lord. "I thank you for your hospitality, and I give my kill for you to take. Please enjoy it with your family, while me and my men hunt for another for ourselves."

The Lord nodded and said his goodbyes to his king. The two groups departed, Lord Whittier and his men going back the way they had come, and Gavin and his men continuing the way they had been headed.

They rode for thirty minutes with no action. Gavin was beginning to feel his adrenaline going out of him again. He was about to tell his men to turn back towards the Whittier's, when a boar came into view. It was only a hair smaller than the other pig, but it's tusks were larger and sharper.

Gavin signaled to his men and they were off. They chased the pig as it ran off, squealing in surprise. Gavin rode ahead again, wanting to feel the thrill of the kill again.

The pig turned into a small shrub of trees. Not wanting to lose the pig, Gavin forced Blake through the trees and into a small clearing. He pulled the reins and quickly stopped Blake. He had cornered the pig against a big boulder. The boar squealed in fear, trying to find a way out.

Gavin jumped off of Blake and unsheathed his sword, ready to kill yet another boar. He approached the pig, sensing the fear like he had before.

He had no idea this pig was smarter.

Before he could slash the boar's head off, the pig ran forward and stabbed Gavin right above his right hip bone with it's tusk. Gavin hunched forward in pain as the pig struggled to release it's tusk from Gavin's abdomen. Once the tusk was free, the boar ran off, Gavin's blood dripping off it's left tusk.

Gavin clutched at his right side, trying to hold his blood in to no avail. He felt the hot, red liquid pouring between his fingers and he knew the wound was more serious than he first thought. The pain was excruciating, a burning and tearing of his flesh that blinded his vision and made him gag.

Suddenly, as if he were dreaming it, the strange smell clouded around him again. The smell that had been haunting Gavin for three days now. It overpowered the scent of his blood, and made him feel better, almost.

"Your majesty! Your majesty! Oh, lord!" Finnian jumped off his horse and gathered Gavin in his arms, pressing his hands against the wound sliced into him. "Quickly, men! Assemble to take the king back to the Whittier's. We need to get him there and get a doctor FAST!" Finnian bellowed to the men, fear evident in his voice, even as he shouted the commands.

"No, don't take me to Whittier's. Take- take m-me there..." Gavin said, pointing toward the direction the smell was coming from.

"Your majesty, the wound is severe. We have to go back and-"

"No! Finn, Finn... Whittier's too-oo f-far back... Take me there..."

A squire raced toward the direction Gavin was pointing, disappearing behind the trees. A minute later he returned.

"Sir! The king is right, it is a shortcut to the village. Mostly barns and farmers, but we can find help there." Finnian nodded at the squire's words.

"Alright, everyone assemble to take the king that way." Finnian and the others tried to position the king as comfortably as they could in a small litter and began carrying him toward the smell and the farmland. They moved slowly and quickly at the same time, rushing to get the king help, but not wanting to move him too much.

'I'll finally find the source of that smell,' Gavin thought as he felt himself slipping away into darkness.

At least, he hoped he would able to find the source before it was too late.

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