Chapter 5:
She’s a Mino-ckout
HEY FOLKS, still Shooter, still thirty-two, and still a villager in a strange new world. I was supposed to be a hunter in my little frontier village, but I hadn’t been doing very hunterly stuff lately. Not until today—today, a force of ten hunters and adventurers were pursuing a herd of deer through the forest, and I was with them. Turned out I’d really missed holding my hunting shortbow and spear, not to mention actually participating in a hunt.
As of a few days ago, an unused storehouse had been converted into a new adventurer’s guild for the village, and that guild had given us a large map to update with our teams’ information. The map was the product of the combined efforts of the hunter and adventurer teams charting the expanse of forest and fields surrounding our village. We were to mark the location of any animals with pins as well as record any other new intel. It was a thoroughly analog way of doing things compared to the world I used to live in, but it worked well enough. We started using it as soon as it was up on the wall.
“I saw them over there. A small herd, maybe fifty or sixty head. It might be an offshoot of the herd our tip mentioned,” an adventurer who was new to the village reported. His voice was low, but still carried well to the rest of our group.
Nishka and Wak’wakgoro were on the front line of the hunting party, and they moved through the thick woods like silent swimmers in water.
They weren’t going to target the herd itself. Rather, they would circle around in back of it. The rest of us, meanwhile, would sneak closer to the herd from the front. All of these roles were determined ahead of time.
We readied our spears and bows, though Nishka still didn’t have her bow out.
Wak’wakgoro issued orders to the hunting dogs he had inherited from the previous leader of the hunters, the late Saki’cho. Half of the dogs broke from Wak’wakgoro and moved to precede us in our approach.
And in among the hunting dogs toddled my roly-poly frilled lizard, chubby little Basil. I had my doubts that we would ever be able to feed him enough on our own, so I thought it would be a good idea for Wak’wakgoro to train Basil alongside the hunting dogs. But now here Wak’wakgoro was, ordering my baby into battle!
Basil mostly did what he was told, so Wak’wakgoro wasn’t having any problems with him. We were using the proper technique for training hunting dogs, too, letting Basil get used to the hunt while he was still young.
Then again, it was pushing it a little to call Basil merely “young”—he was still a baby! Nevertheless, he seemed to be getting it. Shrill cries of kwee! were usually his trademark, but he’d figured out the need for silence while we were on the hunt. When he grew up, he might end up better than any hunting dog.
“When are we supposed to strike?” I asked the young hunter beside me.
“I dunno. I can’t see Wak’wakgoro or Nishka anymore. They’ll probably signal us with a whistle, so we can jump out and start driving the deer.”
Cassandra and Elpaco hung back close behind us and we advanced together, sweeping the brush aside. We kept low to the ground, one and all.
I wasn’t very good with a bow, but our plan was for everyone to fire their arrows all at once when signaled. Hunters who were skilled archers could go on to a second and third strike, but the rest of us would take advantage of the cover fire to leap out with spears in hand.
Camulla, Folgo—one of those adventurers I had brought back from town—and I would take charge of the spear shenanigans. Camulla seemed like he would be pretty skilled with a bow, that Legolas-lookin’ stud, but Folgo and I would have been the only two runners if he joined the second-wave so he elected to bolster our ranks instead.
Thick sweat coated my brow. Summer was here at last; hunched in the thick underbrush with Folgo and Camulla, the humidity was something else. The deer munched on the grass as they trotted along. Every now and then, one would lift its head and scan its surroundings.
We were following traditional hunting procedures, starting downwind and moving up toward the west, so none of the deer had noticed our presence yet. Even the hunting dogs were creeping slowly through the forest, hunkered down low. I was suddenly reminded of going hunting with my uncle and his friends.
Watching Basil mimicking their dogs’ hunting stance with his rotund little body, I had to smile. The difference was, Basil wasn’t remotely tense. He looked like he thought this was just a natural extension of the games he played. The little copycat devil.
Meanwhile, there was Nishka, skillfully moving upwind. Wak’wakgoro was a veteran hunter himself, but he lacked Nishka’s sheer mobility. He’d fallen a little behind her, though we didn’t know the details till later—unable to move from our vantage point, we quickly lost sight of them both.
Thinking back, that was the first time I ever participated in a large-scale hunt, except for the time we hunted the wyvern. And our luck was good that day. We’d found our prey relatively easily.
As the scent of mud and thick vegetation curled in my nose, I drew an arrow from my quiver. Some intangible sense came over me, something about the group’s behavior—it was almost time to attack. The young man next to me held three arrows in one hand, I guess so he could lay down fire quick.
An arrow whistled through the air.
Through the gaps in the underbrush, we saw all the deer raise their heads, just as we anticipated. What was that? they seemed to ask.
At that moment, the hunting dogs leapt from the underbrush, baying loudly.
“Fire!” the young hunter shouted, and every one of us released our arrows.
I let loose my arrow, as did Cassandra and Elpaco. Unfortunately, Cassandra hadn’t drawn her bow far enough, so her arrow fell somewhat short of the herd. Elpaco’s arrow went the full distance, but he missed.
They each quickly nocked a second arrow, while I ran out into the field with Basil and the hunting dogs.
As I ran forward, I saw that two of the deer had been struck squarely by arrows. One buck had been one-shotted—by Nishka’s longbow, I was sure—and it lurched forward before it fell. The other we probably owed to Wak’wakgoro or one of the other veteran hunters. Several arrows were lodged in its haunches, so I guess everyone had aimed for the easiest spot to hit.
And then, in the middle of the chaos, Basil did something wild.
GRROOOOHH!!
How could such a huge bellow come out of such a teensy body? I recognized it, though. It was that thunderous paralyzing roar, the greatest weapon of a true basilisk. Naturally, I started to stumble…and fell down, took a hold of myself, rolled into a defensive posture, and hopped back to my feet.
Goofy little dork, he needed to tell us in the strategy meeting if he was gonna do that! I was able to keep my feet and continue running, but Camulla and Folgo covered their ears and cowered.
Basil’s howl threw the fleeing deer into chaos, as well. Some reared up on their hind legs, others tumbled to the ground where they stood, and still others stood on all fours, frozen in place.
He’d hooked every single one!
I dashed toward the herd, targeting a deer that had conveniently fallen to the ground. Aiming for its vitals, I stabbed my spear into its abdomen. I immediately pulled my spear back out and started looking for my next target, but the deer I had struck was still kicking, trying to stand up. I quickly drew my knife and thrust it into the deer’s throat. That would do it, right?
At which point my allies’ arrows cascaded down on my position. I panicked.
“Stop! You’re going to hit me! Stop firing, stop!”
One deer managed to get to its feet and was starting to bolt at full speed when an arrow from one of the heavy bows whizzed right past my eye before lodging firmly in the deer’s vitals. I just about pissed my pants.
“Christ, Nishka, you’re gonna give me a heart attack!”
Thanks to Basil’s roar petrifying the herd and Nishka’s heavy bow, we managed to bag the seven deer we had promised with ease. I was almost disappointed with how smoothly it went, but I still felt numb. I’d watched a hail of arrows fly down around me, and Nishka had (probably deliberately) fired one right past my face.
Nishka the Scalesplitter stepped out from the brush as if daring me to say something. I glared at her. She scrubbed her hair and boasted, “Ugh. That was way too easy. We should go hunting wyverns again.”
“Not a chance!”
Three days later, we held the feast on the lakeshore.
People from both sides pitched simple tents around the area and began preparations the night before. As morning came, the food stock came streaming in and the cooks in both groups got down to work.
We in the village prepared some dishes using liver and wine-pickled venison, and we loaded the meat into stockpots to transport it to the feast. As for the bull-kin, they slaughtered some cattle and planned to barbeque the meat. It wasn’t American-style barbeque, though. If anything, it was more like what you would see in some kinda “monster hunting” game, where the meat was skewered on an iron stick and roasted over an open flame.
At least the cooking went smoothly. Gintanen directed women from the village to ladle venison soup and pickled organs into wooden dishes, and they began to hand the dishes out to the leading dignitaries of both groups.
A slightly more luxurious tent was set up for the village chief and the bull-kin chieftain, along with Gimul, Tanne d’Arc, and me for some reason. It felt strange.
“This beef is delicious. You said your city is a colony? Do you get to eat such wonderful food all the time?”
“Hrmph. Certainly not. We slaughter a few of our cattle for celebrations such as this, though almost never so many at once. Ordinarily, we only take what we need and distribute small amounts throughout the settlement.”
“Well, if you ever have the chance, I would be most grateful if you could loan us a stud bull.”
“I’m impressed by how much venison your village was able to collect on such short notice. Hrmph. The flavor is outstanding. I suppose it’s only to be expected that a tribe of barbarians would be mighty hunters.”
“Ha ha ha! You said it, bullhead!”