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Wulfham
Settling in for the night . . .
‘There!’ he murmured to himself, laying the last of his loop snares along the faint path he’d made out where animals in the area had made their way down to the river. ‘With any luck a thirsty hare will be needing a drink tonight!’ The thought of fresh meat roasting over the fire set his belly grumbling fiercely. It had been a long time since the last meal.
Brand hurried back to the campsite. It was dark, now; the sun had gone down below the rim of the world. He glanced up at the night sky, looking at the patterns of the stars. The Swordsman of the Sky was rising above the western horizon and there to the north and high in the inky dome hung The Great Dipper. Its bowl had been leaning more and more toward the lands below, heralding a wet change in the weather as the last of autumn slid into early winter.
He could see the fire Dorran had made ahead in the distance. And over it hung several pots – one full of hot water infused with the herbs Dorran had used that afternoon; another bubbling away with a savory mixture of barley and dried meat. Brand rubbed his hands together in anticipation of a hot meal and drink before bed.
‘I’ve set the snare traps,’ he said, cradling the warm wooden bowl in his hands as they sat round the fire eating and drinking. ‘There’s an animal pathway that runs down to the river and looks to be used recently. With any luck we’ll have some nice fresh meat to break our fast in the morning.’ He finished up the last of the simple stew and cleaned out his bowl with a handful of dried grasses. ‘One more cup of your hot tea, Dorran and then I’m off to bed. And the rest of you should go, too. I’ll help with the meal clean up. Incana and Vaenosa can you see to the horses? Get them under what little shelter there is among the trees and make sure they’re loosely tethered. We don’t want them running off in the night.
The pots and bowls were soon cleaned and stowed away; the fire was banked so that it would burn low through the night. The water skins were stacked near their gear. ‘Just one last thing, Dorran,’ Brand said as he stuffed their food supplies into a large leather bag. Find some rope, won’t you, and we’ll hang this high in a tree and a ways from our camp. I didn’t see any tracks of bigger animals about . . . but I don’t want one sniffing around us as we sleep, looking for an easy meal.’
‘Ladies!’ he called out to the two women who were blanketing the horses and giving them a measure of oats. ‘Which of you is a good fisherman?’ he asked. ‘I was hoping one or better the two of you might see to getting us a few fish with the early morning rise. And Dorran, I’d be more than glad at a hand with the traps I’ve laid.’ He grinned, his eyes glittering in the firelight. ‘By one means or another we should have some kind of meat for the morning . . .’
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