Page 26 of Rogue Knight
“’Tis what we have now,” Finna chided her brother. “At least you have food.”
Emma marveled at the wisdom coming from one so young, but Finna had always been older than her years. Smiling at the girl as her brother dove into his gruel, Emma said to Ottar, “There is plenty of fresh bread and butter. We’ll have hare stew for dinner and tomorrow there will be eggs.”
His eyes fastening on the pot of thick golden syrup on one side of the table, Ottar shouted, “And honey!”
“Aye,” said Inga, seemingly cheered by the young ones. Directing an encouraging smile at Finna, she added, “And honey.”
***
A sennight passed and to no one’s surprise, not the least of which was Geoff’s, the king announced he would see the new castle rise on Baille Hill before he took his army south. Thus spurred on, the building proceeded at a furious pace and Geoff and his knights were ordered to continue their daily hunts in the forests of York.
They had been hunting nearly all day when Alain, looking at the ever darkening sky, remarked, “’Twill be gloaming soon. What say you we take the four deer, the hares and the boar we have and retire from the field?”
Geoff chuckled and turned to see Mathieu with one of the red deer strapped behind his saddle. “Yea, I have been seeing a goblet of wine and a juicy slice of venison in my mind for the last hour.”
With his raised arm, Geoff drew the men to a halt. Just as he did, the wailing sound of a wounded animal rent the air, sending an eerie shiver down his spine.
“What in the name of Saint Peter is that?” bellowed Alain.
“’Tis not far, sir,” observed Mathieu. “Do you want me to go see?”
Geoff hesitated, thinking. The sound had been an eerie one, not easily identified. He remembered that rebels hid in this same forest.
“Hold, Mathieu. Let us go together. I would see this for myself.” Geoff ordered the other knights to take their bounty back to the castle, while he, Alain and Mathieu remained. He waited until the sound of thundering of hooves died away, then urged his companions deeper into the woods. “Come, let us see what beast cries from the forest.”
They walked the horses through the underbrush of the dense stands of pine. The wail turned into a long trailing howl as the beast shrieked its suffering.
“There!” shouted Mathieu. “Across that dense hedge, ’tis a wolf caught in a trap.”
Through the thick foliage, Geoff caught a glimpse of fur, a rough, dark gray coat of a large animal. “’Tis no wolf,” he said, “’tis Magnus, Emma’s hound, or one just like it. Looks like his leg is caught in a snare.”
Geoff cautiously walked Athos nearer to where the giant hound was desperately gnawing at the snare around its back leg. Between them was a thick hedge of tangled undergrowth. With every movement of the hound, he imagined the snare tightening, causing the hound more pain as it cut into his leg. Already, blood dripped from where the wire had sliced into its flesh.
“Poor beast,” murmured Mathieu from behind him.
“Aye,” acknowledged Alain. “If we had not found him, the hound might have chewed off his leg trying to escape. Wild animals do, you know.”
“Or the wolves may have taken their revenge,” suggested Geoff, dismounting and slowly walking toward the hedge that was between him and the hound. He would have to crawl through the underbrush. Dropping to his hands and knees, he began to push his shoulders through the hedge. A wave of anxiety flowed over him as the darkness of the thick bushes closed about him. He hated places that were closed in with no light. It reminded him of that time when he was a boy. Refusing to think of it, he closed his eyes and pushed through. Thankfully, after only a short distance, he emerged into light.
Rising, he took off his gloves and tucked them into his belt. The experience in the dense bushes had left him sweating. Aware his companions were watching, he wiped the sweat from his brow and walked to the hound and knelt. He reached out his hand, still uncertain if it was Magnus. The hound’s eyes were wild with fright. If it were Magnus, he hardly looked himself.
From behind him, Alain urged caution. “Best be careful, he may bite. He looks mad with terror.”
“Magnus,” Geoff softly spoke to the hound. “You know me, Magnus. Do not fear. I will free you.”
At his voice, the hound calmed. His dark eyes, looking more like those of Magnus, intelligent and keen, followed Geoff’s every move.
He extended his bare hand to the hound’s nose, letting him sniff. A wet tongue lapped at his fingers, telling Geoff he’d found Emma’s dog. Pleased at the trust shown him, Geoff patted the rough fur on Magnus’ head. “’Tis all right, boy, I will soon have you free.”
“You’ve a way with the creature, sir,” Mathieu said, dismounting. “May I help?”
“First, I must free him and see the damage the snare has wrought.”
Geoff looked at the bloody leg just above the rear paw. He drew his knife from his waist and sliced through the thin wire. Magnus whimpered and when the hound realized he was free, tried to rise, but unsteady on his wounded leg, he fell to the ground with a groan and commenced licking the wound.
Geoff sat and lifted the leg onto his lap. “Let me see, Magnus.” The hound did not resist but moaned. The wound was bad and if not tended, could result in the hound losing the leg, or worse.
Alain circled around the bushes and forced his way through the thick underbrush. He came to Geoff’s side and crouched, handing Geoff a cloth. “Here, take this for the bleeding.”
