Plantation Nation (9781621352877) (36 page)

"What joy would we have if we didn't have a
little rambling once in a while?" Godfrey asked as Isabelle's
cheeks burned all the brighter. Emerging from the colorful trees,
Fulbert, the castle steward, rode past Sophie's parents. Fulbert
was a broad knight who wore a permanent frown on his face.
Readjusting his conical helm, the steward gave Isabelle and Gregory
a polite nod as his long auburn beard brushed against his shining
stomach. The steward was dressed much like Duke Godfrey. Both of
their heads were topped with iron conical helms, where below, chain
coifs wrapped their heads and fell to the base of their necks.
Thigh-length mail protected their torsos and arms. Beneath the
armor they wore padded jerkin. Linen pants and leather boots
completed the attire.

Slightly taller than his steward, Godfrey had
green — Sophie told him emerald-green — eyes, lengthy,
peppery-brown whiskers and hair, and a large, straight nose. Also,
Godfrey's skin was slightly darker from his familial ties bordering
the English Channel. His skin was also leathery; he was thirty-five
and almost an elder by the standards of the time. By comparison,
Fulbert remained rather pale with a set of hazel eyes. He was also
younger at twenty-five. Turning, Godfrey nudged his horse and
trotted along the pig trail. When he rode a few yards ahead of
everyone else, Fulbert cantered up beside him.

"You will do anything for her, will you not?"
Fulbert asked casually, brushing off a crimson leaf that fell onto
his horse's mane.

"I would be a fool not too," replied
Godfrey.

"Then I would be a liar to not tell you that
I envy what you have."

"What are you talking about?" Godfrey asked
flatly, keeping his eyes on the brown trail. "Is your life not
heavenly at home?"

"My lord, most so," Fulbert said as he rolled
his eyes. "Never did I imagine that I would see the day that my
home in Flanders resembled a harem."

"Shall I call you King Solomon?"

"Only if I were so rich in wisdom, my lord.
Needing more trinkets to line the walls, my wife has packed the
home with a king's purse of all sorts of worthless creations:
incense from the Holy Land, rugs from Hungary and — well, her
pricey undertakings are turning me into a madman, or at least a
broke one." Godfrey did not attempt to maintain his composure and
laughed stridently.

"By all means, my lord, chuckle. Witness
Sophie when she is but with you a little while longer." Fulbert
then attempted a poor imitation of Sophie's voice, "Godfrey, I love
zeez horses I saw yesterday, couldn't you buy me one, Godfrey? Oh
and zis ring is so beautiful, if I could only have two for each
finger."

Godfrey asked, "So, you shall be leaving this
evening?"

"As soon as the hunt ends," Fulbert assured.
"Thank the saints I will not be returning to the city. With the
wretched farming over the past two years Echternach has hardly a
scrap of food worth selling. Two weeks ago, of the two days I
browsed the wares, I approached every merchant I could: 'bread one
and a fourth quarters' I asked, only to be shown carts full of
moldering filth. When I did find what looked fairly acceptable the
pompous jackal of a merchant asked four times its worth. Likewise
with bread prices inflated, oats soared to triple its cost of last
year." Now red of face, Fulbert paused to clear his throat and
continued. "Well, without buying any of the city's rubbished goods
I returned to Lorraine and purchased from the nobles, taking
portions of stock from their mills. As the prices were lowered they
still held steep. A quarter of bread, seven sextaries of wine,
mackerel, fat for candles, hay and oats, and meat totaling fourteen
s—"

Just then Godfrey whiffed in a familiar,
musty stench. Without hesitation, he scanned the area ahead of him.
The huntsmen were jogging with the alaunts while the dogs
vigorously tugged at their leashes. Immediately, Fulbert called on
Rainald to fetch Godfrey's spear. The wide-eyed squire bounced
about before Godfrey with spear in hand. The weapon was ten feet in
length with an ashen stock and a sharp iron head. With an approving
nod Godfrey took the spear and tapped the sides of his horse.

Soon Godfrey was riding almost at the heels
of the huntsmen. Using his free hand, he reached down to his belt,
untied a leather fastener, and took out a lavish ivory horn, also
called an oliphant. He blew three distinct notes.

Releasing their grips on the dogs, the
huntsmen watched as the furry companions charged off into the
thicket. Godfrey gave a final kick to bring his horse up and
followed close behind the sprinting dogs. Through the trees, he
could make out fuzzy black shapes jolting in all directions.
Godfrey's horse smashed through a small bush and spilled out into a
large opening. A grey, rocky outcropping materialized just ahead.
Fixing his eyes onto the rock face, Godfrey witnessed the alaunts
corner a heavy boar to the outcropping.

As he closed in, he judged the pig to be
Goliath and himself a mere David. 300 pounds of uncompromising
flesh, muscle, and bone stood its ground, squealing and swinging
its deadly head back and forth like an enraged rhinoceros. A circle
of huntsmen quickly formed around the scene. With mechanistic
expertise they each drew out a special arrow designed specifically
to penetrate through a boar's thick skin. The men then pulled back
their bowstrings.

Godfrey impatiently looked behind him for
Sophie and the others. He could feel his heart increase its rhythm
until it pounded like a hammer to an anvil in his chest. Beads of
hot sweat trickled down his forehead, and he tightened the already
titan-like grip on his spear. Finally, Sophie and her parents
ascended to the top of the hill. He threw himself from the side of
his horse and narrowed onto his target. Like before a storm, the
world around him dropped into silence.

Godfrey drew back his spear and heaved the
tip into the side of the beast. However, the attack penetrated less
than an inch. The boar sneered, knocking the splinter away with its
massive head. Godfrey thrust again, this time the weapon sunk
deeply into the left side of the pig's neck. Lunging forward, the
animal nearly knocked Godfrey off his feet; yet, at the cost of
burrowing the weapon more deeply into its neck. Godfrey leaned into
his weapon and forced the spearhead into the flesh until the spear
eventually came out the other side of the pig's dense throat. A
dark rupture of blood splattered onto the pale rock wall. The boar
heaved back and forth in desperation, valiantly trying to free
itself from the weapon. Straining every muscle in his body, Godfrey
kept the beast in place, and finally the pig fell with a sickening
thud. He pulled his weapon free. In turn, the archers lowered their
bows.

Stifled with heat by his chain mail, Godfrey
realized sweat drenched every surface of his body. His chest heaved
for air. His body was spent, exhausted. Wiping a swathe of
perspiration from his forehead, he purposefully slowed his
breathing. The tranquil sounds of nature flowed back into
existence, and he slowly turned around to see Isabelle. She looked
terrified as she placed her hand over her mouth. In contrast to his
wife, Gregory was brimming with excitement, a boyish grin
stretching across his wrinkled face. For Godfrey, it was only
natural to return a mischievous smile. Soon, the rest of his
household arrived at the scene and applauded. And with that, he
took a bow.

A few minutes later, by the skill of
Godfrey's most seasoned huntsman, the boar was skinned and the meat
divided. The alaunts' portion of boar meat was placed on a sheet of
the boar's skin. Tails happily wagging back and forth, the dogs
lapped up their portions and contentedly licked their maws. As time
wore on, the layer of sweat covering Godfrey cooled quite notably.
With the chilly twinge of weather, he decided it a perfect time to
head back home. He then announced that if anyone was as hungry as
he was at that moment, everyone should hastily return to enjoy
platters of succulent pork. After the huntsmen tied the boar meat
to sticks, the party made their way east.