‘I take meat for my lord Hawkon,’ announced Flint, with superb arrogance. But she watched the men shrewdly, and was careful to take nothing. She waited to be served. In this her instinct chose wisely, for she could not have touched the ox again with impunity.
The elders gathered round. There was a hasty and angry conference.
‘Where is Hawkon himself?’ asked the hunters. And Koor, with gall in his heart, echoed the question.
‘He is still away,’ said Flint. ‘He is doing great deeds.’
Koor turned to the young men. ‘Did he go with you, this Hawkon?’
‘He came hunting with us. He killed with us. Then he left us.’
‘It is often so,’ added another.
‘He is a great hunter,’ said Stare, the youngest among them.
These were his friends and followers. They were united in their testimony.
‘It may be,’ said Hasta tentatively, ‘that he has been bedevilled. I will consult the gods.’
‘Do so,’ ordered Koor.
‘Meanwhile,’ said Stare, ‘we will give the woman what is his by right.’ Without waiting for an answer he hacked a great slice from the animal and put it into Flint’s hand. She had bewitched him. The nearness of her made him mad.
Koor, with a scream, rushed upon the young man, struck at him wildly, and failing of his aim fell to the ground. The young men laughed. Hasta and Nigh were at the Old One’s side. He was on his feet again in an instant. He glared about him, and the laughter died away. One of his woman approached with obsequious love. He grinned at her, snarled, and felled her with a blow. Her outcry pleased him, restored him to good humour. He laughed, and everyone laughed with him, except Flint, who had vanished with her spoil, and the young men, who, resuming their meal, had already forgotten the untimely interruption. Stare alone kept it in mind for a while, but soon, in the pleasure of eating, he too forgot. The vehemence of his appetite subsiding, he squatted down on the ground within the circle of warmth radiating from the great fire, and occupied himself in gnawing at the few tough fragments of bone and gristle that remained to him of his share in the feast. He hardly noticed the noisy departure of his comrades and the chattering arrival at the roast of the lower classes. He sat and gazed at the red embers. He was fed and drowsy and comfortable, and deaf and blind to the riot around him, for in the fire he saw a forest, and in the forest a man hunting. Stare’s eyes became dreamily intent. The man in the forest crouched and crawled, followed by his two dogs. They had wind of the quarry, but the scent was elusive. Stare’s heart thumped violently: he felt the man threatened by some as yet unseen danger, and with that thought a wild beast leaped out of the surrounding shadows, a fantastic wild beast all teeth and talons and blazing eyes. The dogs ran away howling. The man was torn to pieces and eaten. Stare moaned softly, and shifted on his haunches, trying to shake himself free of the dream. He remembered Flint, how she had stood within a hand’s touch of him, her eyes bright, her face dusky in shadow, the round lithe contours of her body burnished and gleaming in the firelight. His mouth widened and his lips curled back, uncovering the teeth. But comfort and warmth drew him back into drowsiness. His eyes were glazing with the glow of the fire. And now he found himself stealing furtively towards the squat of his comrade Hawkon. In the doorway he hesitated, seeing a large black snake coiled up, and apparently asleep, on the top step. At once the snake awoke, and began uncoiling itself. It was a beautiful creature, sleek and shining; and Stare felt a kind of tenderness gush in his heart as he watched it. Tenderness, and reverence as well; for all beauty and all power were expressed in that lithe shape. Yet he raised his axe to strike, victim of conflicting terrors. In some hidden way he felt that the snake was dangerous, so that he dared not let it live; yet to kill it would be a terrible thing, bringing a curse upon him. In a frenzy he struck at it, battered it to death, reduced it to a shapeless nauseating mass, and woke with a shriek.