Dragon Tamer - Book 1

Chapter 58

Three days later Marcie hefted her pack onto her shoulders and set off from her house to the dead willow tree that leaned dangerously across the nearby stream, ancient roots still anchoring it to the shore, but for how much longer.

She had packed plenty of supplies and the pack weighed heavy upon her shoulders, she wore her hunting leathers, the season being warm enough that she should only need her furs when sleeping but she had added a large thick woollen scarf Luce had knitted for her years ago, the weight felt good around her neck and she snuggled her chin into its warmth as she walked.

She came upon the willow and spied Breen leaning against the lower trunk, shifting through his pack and murmuring instructions and advice to the men gathered around him. Although there were men older than him in attendance, the oldest being Far sighted Damnion who's stooped figure and gnarled hands hid strength and speed the like of which had become legend.

Despite the age and experience of the other hunters, Breen had risen to become somewhat of a leader and spokesperson amongst them, pleading their case at summer court and resolving disputes. He also arranged hunting parties and set routes. The men may not particularly 'like' him, his preference for men was a widely kept secret, but they did respect and trust him.

It was Far sighted Damnion who spotted her first, unsurprising considering his name.

His pale blue eyes stared at her for a moment before he turned his back and must have signalled to Breen somehow because he caught her eye which alerted the men, who one by one turned her way and looked at her with a selection of disgust, suspicion, anger and just the tiniest hint of fear.

She felt all their emotions towards her like a physical blow.

She thought she could handle a little suspicion but this was so much more. She slipped back into the trees and hid.

She listened to Breen finish relaying his instructions and waited until she heard the men holster their packs and make their way into the forest, their experienced feet padding softly upon the undergrowth. Then she followed equally softly behind them.

If the men were aware of her presence they ignored her, eyes intent upon the forest around them, fingers loose on their bow strings. All except Six Finger Freddie, who would turn to sneer in her direction whenever Breen was not looking and make rude gestures.

Six Finger Freddie was a rare unmarried man in the village, on account of his name sake, a small nub, half as long as his pinky finger which protruded near his thumb on his right hand. Childish teasing as a youngster had made him bitter and resentful and even the most open minded woman had been turned away by his unpleasantness. His hair was long, greasy and unkempt and hung around his face, hiding his beady and unsettlingly dark blue eyes, he had lost most of his front teeth in fights over the years and when he grinned it was a hideous mass of black gums, and one sharp canine.

He turned this feral grin towards Ketsa, who had been partnered with him today (Breen instructed them to work as pairs and rotated those parings, mostly so no one person had to put up with Freddie for too long) and whispered something to him which did not carry, he guffawed and slapped the poor man on the back with his six fingered hand, Ketsa grimaced and laughed weakly in response.

Poor Ketsa was quiet and unassuming but deadly with the bow and had yet to miss, ever. But he was not equipped to deal with people and was believed to be simple by most of the women of the village, including his heavy handed wife Stya, Marcie believed he and Breen had taken more than one tumble in the sheets together. He glanced back where she walked and looked away before she could catch his eye. She frowned, she had always liked Ketsa, and he had always been, not friendly maybe, just...kind, she did not expect him to act this way and that hurt her more than the stares from the others.