The Way of the Beast

***

  "Auntie Vira!" shouted a child from nearby. Tovira, Halivik and Baraide all turned in their chairs to see a young girl pulling the field gate open. She began to run up the path toward the porch, calling out excitedly once more. Coming along further behind her at a casual pace was Stenhelt walking alongside the livestock handler. "Auntie Vira," the girl yelled once more as she hopped up the stairs, "you'll never guess what happened!"

  Before Tovira could respond, the herdsman barked his daughter's name - Silga - from just beyond the porch railing. The little girl lowered her head and took small, timid steps back to the porch stairs. Her father met her there and sternly said, "You know better. Now apologize to everyone for being rude."

  Silga turned with pouting lips. She kept her head down and muttered, "Sorry."

  "Now get your untamed mouth back to the fields unless you want a swat right here in front of everyone." She wasted no time in leaping off the porch and running out of sight. The herdsman absently stroked his beard and looked up at Tovira. "My apologies," he said. "Silga has too much energy for her own good." His eyes flicked over to the huntsman and his wife, who both looked tired but in good spirits. He nodded to them. "Halivik, Baraide, good to see you again."

  They nodded in return. "And you as well, Nildur," Halivik replied.

  "What was your girl in such a whirl over?" Baraide asked.

  "Ah, that," Nildur said with a grin. He put his hand kindly on Stenhelt's head, rustling his shaggy black hair. "It appears your boy has quite a talent! I expect he'll take after you and become a huntsman one day, Halivik, but he could just as easily run a noble's ranch. Your young man here has a special way with animals, it seems."

  "What happened?" Halivik cautiously asked.

  Nildur shifted his eyes to Tovira and said, "I had to leave Sten with Silga in the barn to go save a lamb. I warned the boy of Temper's spirit, and my girl already knew to keep clear."

  When Hal and Bara looked Tovira's way questioningly, she explained, "I purchased another horse; it was delivered yesterday afternoon. It is a large young stallion full of fire. He didn't take kindly to the first attempts to be broken, so I named him Temper."

  "And rightly so," Nildur agreed. "So, when I hurried back to the barn, imagine my surprise to see Stenhelt feeding oats to big Temper... by hand! Not wanting to spook the horse, I moved up slowly. Your boy seemed to know I was there, and pointed out that Temper was favoring a front hoof. And, I'll be snowed, he was spot on. Sten here seemed to have the horse's full attention, so I managed to slip in, lift the hoof, and dig out a sharp rock. Temper never even looked my way. It was caught in time; he won't come up lame. This young man is to be thanked for it."

  Halivik and Baraide glanced at each other for a long moment, their fears apparently confirmed.

  "Is that so?" Tovira calmly said. "It would appear that young Stenhelt is quite the champion of late, no?" She looked at the boy for a reaction to her words, but he kept his eyes lowered as he stepped toward his parents. "Nildur," she asked her herdsman, "would you keep the sheep clear of that muddy bank until I get out there and make it safe?"

  "Of course - I'll see to it." He nodded to Halivik and Baraide. "My best to you both; I'll see you soon in the village." The couple replied with a customary farewell before Nildur made his way back toward the grazing fields.

  "Well then," Tovira said, turning to face the boy who stood reservedly between his parents, "why don't you come closer, my talented young man, and we can discuss your reward."

  "Tovi, that isn't needed," Baraide said.

  "Of course it is. Your son did me a great service. You'd be stunned at what that horse cost." She put her hand out toward Stenhelt invitingly. "Let's have a quick chat," Tovira said with a warm smile, "before your brother and sister return, alright?"

  Stenhelt shuffled his feet but didn't leave his place. "Go on," his father said with a quick wink and a nudge of his cane. "She's no stranger to us, now is she? Tovira is a friend."

  After the boy slowly came around his father's chair, he gently took Tovira's proffered hand. "Let's see now," she said, sitting forward in her chair and placing her other hand over his. "This feels like a strong young hand, already callused. Is that from skinning or from hunting?"

  "Um, both, I guess, Lady Krin," he answered without meeting her eyes.

  Tovira cocked her head to the side, curious. "Sten, why are you nervous? I've visited with your mother at your home before. I chat with your family when we meet in the village. Does my big house scare you, is that it?"

  "No, Lady Krin." His head sunk to his chest. "The man told me to keep clear of Temper, and I disobeyed."

  "Oh, I see." Tovira gave his hand a pat. "My horse was in pain and he was jumpy, is that right?" Sten nodded his lowered head. "And you wanted to make him feel better, feel calm, yes?" The boy gave another short nod. She lifted his chin with her finger to look him in the eye. "Your parents have told you to respect your elders, and as well you should. This time, though, you knew something Nildur didn't. It worked out for the best because you followed your instincts. So, on this occasion, I'll let it pass."

  Stenhelt frowned. "What are... in-stinks, Lady?"

  The three adults grinned, all sharing an amused glance. "It's the proper word for a gut feeling," Halivik answered, "like knowing which tracks to follow, or when to shoot or throw."

  "I'll wager," Tovira said softly as she leaned lower, as if she and Sten were trading secrets, "that your gut feeling told you about the rock in Temper's hoof, yes?"

  Stenhelt turned his head to his mother; she merely smiled back. It was enough for him to know that Lady Krin had her trust. "Go on," she said with a whisper.

  He looked back at Tovira and said, "I had the notion to calm him down, so I just met his eyes and started breathing deep like him. I felt where he hurt, but in my own hand. Like when Eberhelt the miller had gut aches the day his wife had a baby." Surprised by the explanation, Tovira spared a glimpse over to Hal and Bara. They were looking at each other with the same stunned expression she probably had. "Temper's rump is sore, too," Sten went on. "I think someone was mean to him, maybe someone with a beard..."

  They all looked at each other again, now confused as well. "You said, 'a beard'?" Baraide asked him. "Sten, why would you think that?"

  He looked over to her once more. "It's what my gut tells me, mother. Temper kept shying from Nildur the herdsman, but not so much from two other shaved men who came through the barn, or from Silga. I think a man with a beard hurt the horse," he put a hand on his left hip, "here. I don't think it was the herdsman; he's a good sort, I'd wager."

  "And how would you know that?" Halivik asked with a smirk. "You've only ever seen him in the village on market days, selling the Lady's crops." He caught Tovira's eye and added, "Not that I doubt the honor of your kin."

  "I saw the way you looked at him, father," his son answered. When Halivik frowned at the vague statement, Stenhelt clarified. "You always put hard eyes on those you don't think much of, like old Dorbik the farmer. You didn't give master Nildur that look."

  Tovira chuckled, bringing the boy's attention back to her. "My, aren't you full of surprises," she said with a wide smile. "I'll be wondering what you'll notice next."

  "As will I," Baraide said with a more serious tone than her friend.

  "Stenhelt, I do believe you have a reward due," Tovira told the boy. "Did you happen to see the two other horses I own?" He shook his head, but seemed excited by the idea that she had more of the rare animals. "Yes, I have a filly and a mare." The boy's expression changed to one of slight confusion. "That just means that they're both females, but different ages. At the next chance, why don't you and your parents come back out to visit... and you can ride one."

  Sten's dark eyes widened with delight. "Honestly?" he asked.

  "Honestly," Tovira repeated with a nod. A smile began to grow on his pleasant young face, so she quickly reminded him, "But not Temper, not yet; he needs to heal and be broken first. But my other tw
o are fine and gentle horses. We can walk with them in the fields for a while, and perhaps you can tell me what you notice about them as well. And, while you're here the next time, I'd like to talk with you some more, alright?"

  "Yes, alright," he replied, still grinning.

  "And what do you say?" Halivik prompted him.

  "Thank you, Lady Krin. Thank you very much."

  "You're welcome, Sten. You know, your parents and I have some ideas brewing with you in mind, and I think they'll work out well. Would you like to spend more time out here?"

  Stenhelt's smile immediately drooped. "Will I have to stop hunting?" The question confirmed everything Halivik had said about him.

  "Oh no, not at all," Tovira said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "In fact, I encourage it. People need what your family provides and your father could use your help now more than ever. Come to the estate when you can, or when you're allowed; your family is always welcome. And, who knows, you might even learn a few useful ... tricks."