Hunting (Closed)

[Phelix]

OOC: Over the next few days, I'll be posting my asha'man's progression from newbie to full rank. This thread will be Rhys learning new skills as a Soldier.

 

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The Black Tower bought most of its food from merchants and farmers, but they supplemented it by hunting in the woods nearby. Or further out for those that can Travel.

 

Rhys had found the packs of dogs that wander the Black Tower and had begun working with some of them, turning them from a pack of wild things into his personal pack of hunting hounds. There was a young girl who helped him manage them. When he was training, she saw to their feeding. When he came to hunt with them, she ran along, learning the skills for herself. Her name was Naeron, and her father had been a Dedicated before his accident. He had drawn too much of the Power and blown a crater in the yard big enough to build the foundation for a large house. Her mother just simply walked away in the night the next week, leaving her daughter to the kindness of the Black Tower.

 

Naeron and Rhys walked their pack of hounds out of the Tower grounds and into the woods. The dogs were nothing near the purebred hounds he’d owned in Far Madding. None of them even looked like they were the same breed as the one next to it, but they were all well behaved, quick to learn, high energy, and tenacious. That was all one needed in a good hound.

 

Once they were in the woods, he let Naeron sprint ahead, burning off some of the energy she built up while she was cooped within the walls of the Tower. She said that some of the women were trying to teach her to spin and darn and do other “womanly” tasks, but she would rather be an official huntress for the Tower.

 

“I can’t guarantee it, Naeron, but I will put in a word for your skills at the quartermaster’s office. They decide who can be a hunter.” He had said the first time she mentioned it, and he said it again every time she complained… but no amount of good words from a Soldier would change their opinions about girls doing men’s work.

 

Today, they were hunting deer. When Naeron whistled the command, the hounds gathered around her, and she took them on a coursing run around the area of woods that they had scouted the other day. The obvious signs of bucks in the area had told them no one else had hunted their spot since the last time that Rhys and Naeron had been here, several months prior. The vegetation had grown lush, and that always attracted healthy deer.

 

Rhys could hear the dogs suddenly begin to bay, signalling that they had encountered their quarry. Holding his breath, Rhys quietly wove Air into a loop and readied himself to fling it. The loop would land around the deer’s neck, killing the beast. He hated to do it this way, but it was cleaner and quicker than arrows or letting the hounds bring it to the ground. This way, there was no blood, and other deer in the area wouldn’t be as scared.

 

Hours passed, and he and Naeron collected three large carcasses. One was decently aged, having 12 points on his rack, while the other two were younger bucks. No matter their age, this was a good day’s work. As he knelt beside the first deer he tucked his long hair into a neat bun, fixing it in place with a wooden comb, and beside the second deer, Naeron began to talk.

 

“I think I’m going to leave, Rhys.” She didn’t look up from butchering the deer. “I can earn my way with the skills you’ve helped me sharpen, and I can get away from this place.”

 

“Is it that bad for you here?” Rhys did not look up either, allowing their work to help keep the tension low.

 

“I can’t grow to be anything more than just another girl here, Rhys. This is a place for men.” She sighed.

 

“I’ll miss you.” he whispered.

 

“I know, but you’re going to be an Asha’man. You’ve got potential to grow here, to become more than anyone else… all I can be is a second class huntswoman or someone’s wife.” There was so much bitterness in her voice, Rhys wanted to hug her, but they were both covered in gore from skinning the beast. Rhys cut the deer’s stomach open, and released the offal onto the ground for the hounds.

 

When he had the skin off of the deer, he used Air to hold it off the ground, and a thin weave of fire to sear off the sinew and fat from the inside. It would still need curing in town, but now, they could roll it without it making a mess.

 

“Where will you go?” He moved to the next deer.

 

“I think Arafel. It’s far from here, and in the Borderlands they don’t care what clothes you wear or if you’ve got hair for brains or are a woman, and they’ll likely be fine with me hunting, trapping and working for myself.” She finished her first deer, and joined Rhys on the third. Their eyes never met, but they worked in unison.

 

“When are you leaving?” he whispered.

 

“At dawn. There is a boat docked at the River that’s heading North, past Tar Valon, all the way to Shienar.” a wistful hope entered her voice.

 

“Don’t leave before I see you, yes?” He raised his eyes to catch hers and did not lower them unitl she agreed.

 

They piled the meat into baskets and rolled the skins, then lifted the whole kit onto their backs, carrying it back into the small town that was the Black Tower. The provisions were delivered to the quartermaster, who noted that they had brought in more than the amount required of them, as was usual, and he paid them for the extra. Rhys refused his portion, letting Naeron keep it all for her journey.

 

Once they had left the area of town that stank of leather and meat and offal, Rhys seized the Source and wove air, water and earth, then gently laid the weave on Naeron and a second copy on himself. The blood, sweat, dirt and other mess and stains all suddenly poofed off of their clothing and skin, and he collected the wet grime into a ball, which he then burnt with a weave of fire.

 

Naeron smiled at his display. Until recently, weaves with water in them had been a huge challenge for Rhys. This weave would have been beyond him a month ago. They went their separate ways, him to more lessons with the Power, her to pack up and resolve her last ties to this place.

 

In the pre-dawn light, Rhys knocked on her door and found her waiting with a satchel on her back. “Let me walk you to the River.”

 

She didn’t object.

 

The walk to the River wasn’t that long, but it was separate enough that people on the boats could not make out details of the Tower. At the water’s edge was a set of relatively new docks, built to service the Black Tower. Moored there was a large trading ship with a shallow draught. It wasn’t ungainly, but it was nothing like the pleasure yachts Rhys had known on the lake of Far Madding.

 

“Well, here’s where we part Rhys.” Naeron’s words were calm, but he thought he could see fear and tension and excitement in her eyes.

 

“Yes, yes it is.” He sighed. “Take this and be safe.” He handed her a book. The title was something ridiculous, The Mourning Rose and her Steadfast Tower. It was pure pulp romance, written by a friend of his in Far Madding, where one way a man could earn his own money was publishing poetry and romance stories for the ladies. Naeron looked at it and raised an eyebrow. “My favorite story begins on page 97.”

 

She flipped through the first pages until she got to the right spot, and the last page flipped over to reveal a hidden compartment. Inside the compartment were a small bag of coins, a small knife, and an elegant hair comb made of sung wood and jade. When she opened the bag of coins, she almost dropped the book. “You can’t give me this much money!”

 

Rhys laughed. “I can and I am giving it to you. The Black Tower meets my needs now, so I don’t need that coin. Take it and I hope it helps you establish yourself in Arafel.”

 

With tears in her eyes, Naeron turned and boarded the trading ship. Rhys watched until she went below decks, then he made the long walk back to the Black Tower, knowing he had one less friend in this place.

 

The next week, an Asha’man met him at dawn and gave him his Sword Pin. He was made Dedicated, and his life changed again.