Darkwalker on Moonshae - Douglas Niles [46]
“I thank you for making this journey on our behalf. You are welcome to outfit yourself for the journey with whatever provisions or mounts that I can provide.”
“My thanks to you, Your Majesty. I shall make every effort to return under happier circumstances, and next time to accept your hospitality more graciously.”
“You shall always be welcome. Beyond common courtesy, I owe you the debt of my children’s lives, and this I will never forget!” The emotion in the king’s voice surprised his son.
The council lasted for a few more minutes, as details of militia units and patrolling districts were assigned. As soon as they adjourned, the king sent out messengers to the farther cantrevs, while Keren went immediately to the stables and prepared to leave. Tristan and Robyn packed his saddlebags with an abundance of provisions, and joined him at the castle gate.
The bard took the prince’s hand in a firm grip, and studied the young man carefully. “You must be strong, Prince Tristan, for the weight of a kingdom, I fear, shall soon fall upon your shoulders,” Keren said solemnly.
Trtistan started to smile. “You are worthy of the responsibility, fear not,” the bard continued. When Tristan chose not to reply, the bard added, “And remember, above all things, to think. A leader must be a man of action, but even more so, a man of thought. And take care of that dog!” Keren smiled, for he had not been shy in his praise of Canthus.
At last Tristan spoke, warmly. “I will. And be careful on your journey!” The prince was surprised to find himself reluctant to say goodbye to the bard – he wished that he would see the man again.
“And you, my lady,” Keren said, turning to Robyn. “Keep this headstrong young man out of trouble, if you can. And keep asking questions – there’s an answer for you somewhere.”
“Now, I must be off!” The bard leaped to his saddle and urged his horse down the castle road. The black, soaring speck of Sable circled over him. The strains of a song wafted through the air, and Tristan and Robyn knew that the bard sang a traveling song, a song of farewell.
*****
Daryth resisted all attempts to restrict him to his bed, protesting that he felt fine and only needed exercise to be back in excellent shape. Within a few days, he returned to daily training activities with the royal hounds.
Canthus continued his education under Daryth’s tutelage. He learned all the standard guarding and hunting commands, performing to either vocal or hand commands. The Calishite then began to work the dog into more challenging tasks. The moorhound soon learned to knock down a victim without biting, and to stand guard at an assigned place for a long period of time, without his attention straying.
In the meantime, Tristan had worked with the dogs for long hours each day, and came to appreciate more than ever the might and intelligence of the moorhound he had acquired from Pawldo, The dog seemed to grasp tactics, such as silent movement and the importance of surprise, as quickly as a human would, and his keen instincts augmented this intelligence in an almost uncanny fashion.
Canthus forged gladly into icy water, or thorny thickets, with no thought but the completion of his task, be it the retrieval or flushing of game. When retrieving, he brought the game to the prince with nary the slightest toothmark.
Tristan also spent long hours with his bow, striving to gain a mastery of the weapon he had never shown for Arlen. Although he showed marked improvement, he remained far from expert.
As the prince’s and dog’s training progressed, the Ffolk of Corwell began making preparations for war. Able-bodied young men from the many cantrevs of the kingdom arrived at the castle, swelling its garrison to several hundred men-at-arms. Although many more men and women could be mustered in an emergency, the king did not deem the situation dire enough yet to ignore the tending of crops and animals. The Ffolk of the cantrevs nonetheless were instructed to keep their weapons handy, and the king