To Carry the Horn

by Karen Myers

  “Somebody is,” George said, “or Iolo would still be alive.”

  “Very true. Don’t forget you have active enemies already in place. They couldn’t have anticipated your presence disrupting their plans. If you can hunt the hounds, then you must be eliminated, too, or Iolo’s murder will have been pointless.”

  He looked directly at George. “They may wait to see if you’ll fail, first, before moving against you. I would. Or they may just take the simple route and dispose of you anyway, to return to the original plan. And, incidentally, to demonstrate that Gwyn can’t protect his own people.”

  “If there’s an emergency, who can I rely on?”

  “Of these here, Idris and Ceridwen. Don’t trust Creiddylad—guard your tongue and your person from her and hers. If you’re caught outside the grounds,” he looked over the guests, “Eurig, there, is a good choice. His lands are the first large settlement to the north beyond Daear Llosg. Everyone discounts him as past his prime and out of circulation, but he likes it that way, encourages it. He’s unquestionably loyal, cunning as a badger, and well prepared. He also clearly approves of you, which will count in your favor with many of the others.”

  Idris leaned over Rhys and passed the word: there would be a meeting after dinner.

  The same group was gathered around the council table as the night before, with the addition of Rhodri.

  Gwyn started by saying, “If anyone doesn’t already know, let me say that my great-grandson George has agreed to hunt the hounds for us on Nos Galan Gaeaf. The first public hunt will be in one week’s time.”

  He asked George to recount the events on Daear Llosg, and followed up with his own actions. “These were unmarked warriors. They carried no colors, and I didn’t recognize them. The arrows were fletched in the old style.” He reached behind his seat and tossed an arrow onto the table for all to look at, the one that had missed him. George noted the bright yellow fletching. “The other end of the way must be based locally—it was the same time of day and weather.”

  Ceridwen asked, “What’s been done to shut this way?”

  “Idris has posted guards around it for tonight,” Gwyn said. “I want George, Rhodri, and you with me there at mid-morning tomorrow.”

  George leaned toward Rhodri and muttered, “I’ll be in kennels. Can you fetch me for this?” Rhodri nodded.

  Creiddylad spoke up. “Shall I attend, brother?”

  “I don’t know why this should interest you, sister, but you must do as you please.”

  “I wonder why you are taking your kinsman away from his kennel duties, brother. He’ll need all his time to prepare.”

  Because I can see the ways, thought George, but something cautioned him against saying anything about it. He noted that she considered him her brother’s kinsman, not her own.

  Gwyn replied smoothly, “Because I wish it, sister.”

  Ceridwen reported the results of interviews with the guards, now that they had all checked in. Unsurprisingly, there was simply too much gate traffic to provide any useful information.

  “And the spell-stick?” asked Gwyn.

  “Frustratingly anonymous, my lord. Some clues in the writing make me think it isn’t local. We tend to keep older words longer here, as colonies do, and where we’d use one word, a more modern one’s been substituted. Anything to add, my lady?” she asked Creiddylad.

  “No, I could do nothing with it.”

  After a few more questions, Gwyn dismissed them, and the meeting started to break up.

  After Creiddylad left the room, George turned to Rhodri at the table. “I clearly need more information about this whole ‘way’ business, and everyone tells me you’re the expert. Can we spend some time on this, and soon?”

  “Let’s do it tomorrow, with whatever Gwyn has planned. It’s good you said nothing about it in front of Creiddylad. Keep it a secret as long as possible.”

  As he re-entered the great hall, George felt a touch at his elbow and turned to discover Ifor Moel standing behind him with a handful of papers.

  “My lord Gwyn has asked me to provide for your needs while you’re here. May we go to my office to discuss it?”

  He led the way outside to a stone building next to Ceridwen’s. A central area with seating was surrounded by several rooms set up as offices. Ifor said, “Many of the people who administer Gwyn’s lands take a room here, for offices, except for those like Iolo or Ceridwen who need their own elsewhere. The important records are kept in Gwyn’s council room, but all the day-to-day material’s here.”

  He opened the door of the first room on the right. Shelves lined the walls and chests were piled high at the far end. At Ifor’s gesture, George took a seat in front of a heavy wooden desk. “The second floor’s used for storage, but I fear we’re filling the place up.”

  Ifor hauled a ledger down and opened it at the desk. Dipping a pen in ink, he started to make notes on a piece of paper.

  “Iolo’s customary expenses included the maintenance of his horses. Your own horse will of course be supported, but you’ll need at least two more.”

  “So,” he continued, “you should take over Iolo’s three horses for now. Look them over and see if they suit you.”

  He paused to make a few notes.

  “Then there’s the matter of livery and other clothing. Iolo’s coats won’t fit you but perhaps the shirts can be adapted for work. Certainly you’ll need appropriate clothing for hunting immediately, and you’ll need work clothing for the kennels, evening clothing, and ordinary wear. Boots and shoes, too. And all of this as quickly as possible, since you must be properly clad when the public hunting resumes in a week.”

  He rubbed his chin. “I’ll ask Olwen to send someone to measure you and go through Iolo’s clothing to rescue anything suitable. She can oversee most of the work you need, but for the footwear and outer garments you’d best see Mostyn in the village, as soon as possible. You’ll find him a few shops up from the inn. Just tell him it’s Gwyn’s request and let him guide you.”

  “I don’t quite understand. Don’t Iolo’s horses and goods go to his family?”

  “Iolo has no recent family and left no instructions. In such cases we would let his friends choose keepsakes and disperse or store the rest, but Gwyn has asked that we leave his house alone until after the great hunt. I suppose he envisions installing Iolo’s permanent replacement there.

  “Now, for the kennels themselves. Ives will go over kennel budgets with you and do most of that. You can take what you need from the armory, but I don’t think our armor will fit you and you won’t be here long enough for that to become an issue. Ask Hadyn—you’ve met him?—what he suggests as a temporary measure for protection.”

  “One more thing,” Ifor continued. “Normally we’d fee a huntsman quarterly, but Gwyn has asked me to give you this now, as a courtesy to a kinsman.” He unlocked a drawer and took out a small leather pouch which he handed to George. “I recommend you carry a bit of this around and secure the remainder.”

  George took the pouch without opening it and slid it into a pocket.

  “Thanks for all your help,” he said.

  “I suggested to Gwyn that you could also use the services of Iolo’s man, Alun, while you were here, and Gwyn agreed. I’ll have him seek you out in the morning.”

  “How are people like Ives and Alun paid?”

  “My office sees to the fees of the kennel staff. Private servants are paid by their employers, but Alun’s been taken care of until after the great hunt. Iolo’s replacement may bring a man of his own, of course.”

  “What would happen to Alun then?”

  “I imagine we can find him another position somewhere.” Too bad for him, George thought. I wonder how long he’s held that job? Has he always been a servant?

  Well, no point making waves until I understand how all this works.

  It’s good to get some pocket money, but what exactly am I to Gwyn, retainer or kin? How much difference is there?

&nbs
p; CHAPTER 13

  The chime on George’s pocket watch woke him well before breakfast, and he headed down for a quick bite. He set out for the kennels early to see if he could begin looking through Iolo’s office before the appointed time with Ives.

  As he reached the kennel gates, a man approached him. “You’re the new huntsman, then?” he asked. At George’s nod, he continued. “I’m Alun. Ifor Moel sent me to make myself useful to you.”

  “I’m glad to meet you, Alun, and grateful for all the help you can give me. Let me first offer my condolences on the death of Iolo.”

  Alun nodded soberly. “How can I help you?”

  “Well, what were your usual duties for Iolo?”

  “Breakfasts and simple meals. Keeping the house in order—he wouldn’t let me tidy his office there.” He nodded with his head in the direction of the huntsman’s office. “Errands of all kinds.”

  “Do you live at Iolo’s house, then?”

  “Indeed, and have these last thirty-five years, since I was a lad.”

  “I don’t know what’ll happen after the great hunt, but let’s keep everything the way it was until then, anyway. I’ll look to you to let me know if I’m doing something wrong or asking for something unusual, yes?”

  “As you say.”

  “Please come with me to the huntsman’s office. I’ll want to write a note to my grandfather, and you’ll need to give that to Idris for delivery. You can help coordinate the rest of my schedule while we’re at it.”

  They entered at the kennel gate. George noted that Alun kept to the middle as they crossed between the pens, but was more prudent than scared of the hounds. He looked in at Ives’s usual place and found him busy with the kennel-men.

  “No hurry, Master Ives. Alun and I will be in the huntsman’s office whenever you’re ready.”

  They walked over to the office.

  George said to Alun, “I seem to have taken on multiple responsibilities for the next two weeks, and they’re bound to conflict with each other, especially since one of them, the huntsman’s job, is already a full-time activity. I’ll wait till Ives arrives so we can both hear about my huntsman tasks. Did you and Ives coordinate this way for Iolo?”

  “No, just helping with his domestic needs, it was.”

  “Do you mind my broadening your tasks, in areas other than hunting?”

  “That would be interesting.” Alun was unwaveringly polite and George couldn’t yet tell when he was being sincere. He decided to assume he meant what he said.

  “Alright, then. First, where I come from we don’t use swords. I must become decent at it as soon as possible, and I want to train with Hadyn’s men in the mid-afternoon session whenever I can. My most important job may be the great hunt, but I need to stay alive to do it.

  “Second, I need clothes. I’ve been put in Edern’s room in the manor but I came with almost nothing but what you see, and it doesn’t seem like I’m going to be able to borrow clothes easily. Ifor Moel was to have someone go through Iolo’s looser garments to see if there’s anything I can use, but otherwise I’ll need ordinary clothing, hunt clothing, and enough fancy clothing not to embarrass myself while I’m here. I gather some of the clothing’s made here, at the manor, and for some I must visit the village, someone named Mostyn.”

  He plucked at his hunt coat. “I can’t keep wearing the clothes I came in for long, so I’ll need your help to sort that out as quickly as possible, and to tell me what’s appropriate attire. Right now, my borrowed robes have an arrow hole in them. How do I get that repaired? And I’m very tired of wearing these boots all day.

  “Third, Gwyn and Idris have me doing some other tasks for them. I’ll be interrupted this morning for one of them which will take me away for a couple of hours. I expect that could happen again unpredictably. I may need you to relay messages for me when I have disruptions like that. If people can’t find me, it would help if they could come to you for my schedule.

  “Last, I want to set up some study time with Ceridwen. I don’t know yet if that will be scheduled or irregular, but I’ll keep you posted. Will all this work for you?”

  “Easy enough it is.”

  “Great, that will be a big help. Give me a moment while I put together the note to my grandfather.”

  George found paper and pen on the desk.

  Grandfather,

  Your father-in-law conveys his respects to you and grandmother. He has requested my assistance in a family matter, and I have accepted. My services are expected to end sometime in the first week of November.

  This is, of course, unplanned but it’s not untimely. Sam Littleton, my COO, is perfectly capable of running things. Please offer my apologies and tell him that a family emergency has called me out of the country for two to three weeks, and I’ll let him know as soon as possible when I’ll be returning. Ask him to run the place as if it were his own in my absence; I promise not to second-guess him when I return. To explain why he can’t reach me by email, tell him it seemed the best way to give him truly free rein.

  Can you help Bud get whatever he needs, and perhaps take in my dogs if necessary?

  Love,

  George

  He folded it and wrote his grandfather’s name on the outside. He gave it to Alun and said, “Please get this to Idris and ask him to see that my grandfather receives it. No special speed’s required.”

  Alun tucked it away in a pocket.

  George looked at the desk with an eye to bringing pen and paper to the desk in his room. “Alun, I’ve seen some people use fountain pens, the ones with an internal ink reservoir. Are they common here? How can I get one, ink, too, to use both here and in my room? I’ll need paper, too.”

  “I’ll find you what you need.”

  “A small notebook for a pocket would be very useful, too. How does this work? Do I give you money for these things, or does Ifor Moel?”

  “You have, Iolo had, a small amount for food and other items. I keep a list, and he refilled it at need, paying whatever part was personal himself. The rest, with the list, goes to Ifor Moel. I’ll let you know if we’re running low.”

  “I’ll make time for the trip to Mostyn in the village today, if I can, after lunch. Can you come with me? Um, do you have a horse?”

  “Indeed I do. I’ll look for you then.”

  With a knock on the open door a middle-aged woman came in with a bundle of clothing.

  “I’m Olwen and I thought I better see to this task myself.” He stood up to greet her and she looked him over. “My, there’s broad you are.”

  “Thanks for making the time for this, Mistress Olwen.”

  “Happy to help. Alun,” she said, “I brought these things of Iolo’s to try, from the pile of possibles you put together.”

  She dumped the clothes on a chair and held a shirt against George’s back to check for likely fit.

  “Good. Some of these will do. Let me take your measurements properly and Alun and I can sort this out for you.”

  As he stood there in his shirtsleeves with arms outstretched, Olwen measuring, and Alun writing down whatever she said, in walked Ives, with Rhian on his heels.

  Ives laughed. “It’s good to see you getting something done, then.”

  George explained the upcoming morning’s interruption and his hopes for fitting in some time in his daily schedule for training.

  “I’d like you and Alun to coordinate. Hunting has the highest priority, and he’ll help with everything else. Can you start by telling me what Iolo’s daily work was like?”

  “Iolo would come before breakfast to check on the hounds as they were released into their yards, then back home for breakfast. After that, we either walked hounds or prepared the pack for hunting, during the season.”

  “What’s the hunting schedule?”

  “Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, with adjustments for the special events.”

  “Gwyn told me to take the pack out in public a week from tomorrow, for deer. We should keep to a huntin
g schedule for this week, but only for staff. Do you normally take out just the one pack, or do you have multiple packs, as some hunts alternate a bitch or dog pack?”

  “We keep a single pack going and hold back just the unfit or young ones. Our busiest period runs to the great hunt, when we’re filled with guests who must be entertained. After that it slacks off a bit until we end the season in the spring, to let the deer raise their young in peace, or until deep snow shuts it down.”

  “I don’t understand how there can possibly be enough game to support all this hunting in territory close enough to reach in an hour,” George said.

  “We try not to hunt more than three miles away from kennels. That means it’s an hour to get there, two to four hours hunting, and an hour to return. For special events, we can put the hounds in wagons and make a day of it. We have four directions and multiple terrains to choose from, so as long as we don’t run the same spot more than once a week it works. After all, we’re not hunting primarily for the table, and there’s no shortage of deer.”

  “So that’s a four mile travel radius, pushed out by maybe five more miles in a hunting loop, so perhaps a nine mile radius. An oval, yes? Or do you cross the mountain?”

  “No. It’s a lopsided circle, with the ridge line as the western edge.”

  “Is there a map of the territories? Something with names I can study?”

  Ives walked over to a large map hanging on the wall. “Here’s where we’re scheduled to hunt for the next few days.” He pointed out four spots, and George wrote down the names.

  “Where will the great hunt be held?”

  “It’ll start from the bridge at the center of the village, but the path can’t be predicted. The quarry’s unidentified, at least initially, and the ways are open.”