Aiden's Quest

by Dane Bagley

Aiden’s arrival was never inconsequential. The maidens could not help but steal a look as he walked by. He was tall, with thick, dark hair that came down just past his shoulders. His muscular build was accentuated when he came home from the hunt—he was shirtless and the sweat made his upper body glisten in the waning sunlight. Though just eighteen, Aiden had begun to lead the hunting expeditions. He arrived first and strode in confidently caring prized game behind his back. The other men followed in the pecking order, each carrying the spoils of the hunt. No one was hurt, everyone was happy, and meat there was aplenty.

  Aiden’s mother heard the calls, recognized his voice, but did not leave the hut. She was preparing the meal as Aiden entered the home. He walked in silently and secreted himself towards his mother whose back was towards him. He dropped his game and put his hands around his mother’s head covering her eyes with his hands, all in one motion. She knew that was coming, but still it startled her. How does he do that? she thought.

  “They never see it coming!” he said, smiling confidently. His mother turned around and embraced him warmly but quickly.

  “It went well, I see,” she said. “Now, hurry and bath. You stink.”

  “The young ladies don’t seem to think so,” replied Aiden.

  She turned back to her preparations and said, “bath—and get a shirt on.”

  Aiden’s father entered the hut as Aiden turned to leave. He and Aiden nodded respectfully as they walked past each other.

  “Sit down, you look tired,” she said to her husband. He was tired and thoroughly ready to get off of his feet. He made his way towards a chair near where she was cooking. “It’s time that he takes a wife,” she said as he sat down.

  The man, sitting in the chair that faced the door of the hut, looked out without replying.

  “He is the man of the hunt. Who’s ever heard of the man of the hunt coming in to his own home and having his mother there to greet him? He must be married and in his own hut.” She paused momentarily, but still no reply from her husband. “There are plenty that would marry him. He’d have no trouble at all. He can pick whomever he chooses. I know he’s young—too young yet to marry—but he leads all men. I can’t see him going on another hunt and returning to sleep in the same hut with his mother and father.” She was emphatic as she ended the statement.

  Neither she nor her husband had looked at each other. She stared at her preparations and he looked out the door. The man leaned back some in his chair. This time the pause in the conversation lasted several minutes. The stir fry that she was cooking was beginning to sizzle, and the aroma brought on the man’s hunger.

  “I believe you’re right,” he finally said. “That boy will not return from another hunt and sleep here.”

  She appeared vindicated as he turned his head to look at his wife. She was not a woman who wore her emotions superficially. He gazed at her for a moment, but she did not look back at him. He could see other emotions begin to emerge…subtly. Aiden was the youngest of five children, four of which were boys. They were all in huts of their own, and had families. Aiden’s departure would mean that an era was over. Her stiff upper lip prevailed.

  “You’ve spoken with him, then?” she said.

  “I’ve spoken with him much over the days of the hunt. I’ve also listen as he has spoken with others. He is ready to move on. I think that this hunt is his last,” he said reflectively.

  Again, a pause.

  “His last while living here?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Another pause.

  “Perhaps his last with us at all,” he said finally.

  The wife looked over at her husband and studied his eyes. He looked back at her unaffected. She turned back to her stir fry, and they left off speaking for some time.

  “He has not found one who suits him?” she asked.

  “He has not found a hunt that suits him,” he said. “He is restless. He seeks game that is not to be found here. He listens at night to the wind in hopes that something bigger may be found. There are bigger things to hunt than can be found here.”

  A scent of burning entered the air. The man looked over at his wife again. She was staring in front of her, forgetting to stir.