David Gemmell – Rigante 3 – Ravenheart

Kaelin walked on. As dusk drew on he left the road, climbing to a rocky outcrop where a stream tipped over pale stones in a series of liny waterfalls. Filling his small copper pot he added a handful of oats and set a fire beneath a spreading pine. The camp could not be seen from the road and the thin smoke would be dispersed by the branches.

When the fire had been going for a little while, enough for coals to form, he laid his pot upon it, stirring the contents with a wooden spoon. The air was filled with the scent of pines and woodsmoke, and Kaelin felt free for the first time in months.

With the porridge bubbling he took two large sticks and lifted the pot from the fire, setting it on a rock to cool. When I get back, he thought, I will write to Aunt Maev asking if Banny can join me. He would like it here. No-one need know of his mixed blood. Not that it would matter, he realized, since Banny was a southerner like himself, and would largely be ignored. Kaelin smiled. Banny had always wished to be treated like a clansman. Here he would be accepted as such – and treated the same anyway.

After a while he ate the oats, enjoying the deep warmth in his belly. Then he chewed on some salt beef, drank from the stream, and settled down beside his fire. Lying on his back he looked up at the stars and fell into a dreamless sleep.

A noise awoke him just after dawn. It was the sound of snuffling and tearing. Keeping very still he opened his eyes. A large brown bear was ripping at his food sack.

Kaelin stayed motionless. The bear pushed his head into the bag, then shook it. The oats spilled out, followed by the salt beef and the cheese. Kaelin considered discharging one of his pistols to frighten the beast away, but there was little point now. The sack was ruined, the food spread over the ground. It did not take the bear long to devour the supplies. It padded around the camp site, then ambled towards where he lay. Kaelin closed his eyes. He felt the bear’s nose brush against his cheek, and smelled the musty odour of its fur. Then it swung away and padded off into the pines.

Kaelin waited until it was gone from sight, then rose. The sound of soft, contemptuous laughter came to him. Whipping his knife from its sheath he spun towards the sound – to see the red-headed girl who had been with Call Jace sitting on a broad branch ten feet above the edge of his camp site. She no longer wore the bonnet cap and her hair hung free, framing her face.

‘What are you laughing at?’ he asked, aware of the foolishness of the question even as he asked it.

‘Do you learn nothing in the south?’ she countered. ‘What kind of a fool sets his camp alongside the tracks of a bear? Could you not see that this is where old Shabba comes to drink in the morning?’

‘Obviously not,’ he replied, reddening. Sheathing his knife he moved to the canvas sack, which was ruined, and retrieved the tinderbox, the cooking pot and the spoon.

‘It will be a hungry day for you,’ she said, reaching into a pouch hanging from her belt and pulling clear an oatcake, which she began to eat.

‘I’m surprised you didn’t slit my throat while I slept,’ said Kaelin.

‘Bael will do that,’ she said. ‘Wouldn’t be fair to rob him of his fun.’

‘I take it I’ll get dinner first,’ he said.

‘Of course. We are not barbarians.’ Rising, she walked lithely along the branch and began to climb down the trunk. Reaching the ground she strolled over to him. Kaelin looked into her green eyes and felt lost for words. ‘Now you are gawping again,’ she said. ‘Did you not get into enough trouble for that last time?’

‘Gawping?’

‘You were staring at me. It made my father angry – which is why he spoke as he did. Do you learn no manners in the south?’