The Scepter's Return Read Free Page A

the guard said. And, no doubt, he did. That his best was no good … Anser was too kindly to twit him too much.
    And the clearing was as good as he’d claimed. Fresh bright grass smiled at the sun. A magpie, all black and white and iridescent purple, hopped on the grass. It flew away squawking when Lanius stuck his head out.
    Faintly embarrassed, the king drew back behind a tree trunk. “This does seem a likely spot,” he said.
    â€œWell, yes, if you don’t frighten away everything within five miles,” Ortalis said. Had Anser said the same thing, Lanius would have laughed and forgotten about it. From Ortalis, it annoyed him. Anser might have meant it just as much. He probably would have, as passionate for the hunt as he was. But the words wouldn’t have stung coming out of his mouth. Coming out of Ortalis’, they did.
    What Anser said now was, “Don’t worry, Your Highness. The beaters will make sure we don’t go home empty-handed. Pity the antlers won’t be as fine as they would in the fall.”
    â€œI don’t care,” Ortalis said. “I want the venison.” He sounded hungry, all right. Was it for meat? Maybe. Lanius thought it was more likely to be for the kill itself.
    A deer bounded into the clearing. “Go ahead, Your Majesty,” Anser said. “First arrow of spring.”
    Awkwardly, Lanius drew his bow, took aim, and let fly. The arrow whistled over the deer’s head. That was where he’d aimed it, so he wasn’t particularly unhappy. He liked eating venison, too, but he didn’t care to be the one who’d killed it.
    Killing didn’t bother Ortalis. Even as the deer bounded away, he loosed his own shaft. Unlike Lanius, he always took dead aim. He was a good shot, too, also unlike the king. His arrow flew straight and true, and struck the deer in the side.
    â€œA hit!” he cried, and was out of cover and running after the wounded animal. Anser ran after him, bow at the ready. So did Lanius, a little more slowly. “An easy trail!” Ortalis said, laughing with pleasure. Sure enough, the deer’s blood marked its path. Well, it will be over soon, Lanius thought. The deer won’t suffer long. It won’t wander through the woods a cripple.
    There it was, thrashing in some bushes it hadn’t had the strength to leap. Ortalis drew a knife that would have done duty for a smallsword. “Careful!” Anser called. “Those hooves are still dangerous.” If his half brother heard, he gave no sign. Avoiding the feet that flailed ever more feebly, he cut the deer’s throat.
    More blood fountained free. “Ahhh!” Ortalis said, almost as if he’d just had a woman. As soon as the deer was dead, or perhaps even a moment before, he flipped it over and began to gut it. Arms red almost to the elbows, he turned and smiled up at Lanius and Anser.
    â€œGood shot,” Anser said, and clapped him on the back. Lanius managed a nod that didn’t seem too halfhearted. But that avid expression on Ortalis’ face as he wielded the knife chilled the King of Avornis. Yes, he thought, this is why he hunts.
    When Grus first got to know Hirundo, his general had been a bright young cavalry captain. King Grus himself had been a bright, reasonably young river-galley skipper. Now his beard was gray and the tendons on the backs of his hands all knobbly and gnarled. How did I get to be sixty? he wondered, as any man will with so many years behind him and so few probably ahead.
    Hirundo was a few years younger, but only a few. He still had traces, though, of the dash he’d shown all those years ago. “South of the Stura, eh?” he said gaily.
    â€œWe’ve been looking at this for a while now—ever since Ulash’s sons started squabbling over the bones of his realm,” Grus said.
    â€œOh, yes. We’ve been looking at it and thinking about it,” Hirundo agreed. “Most of