A Hero's Tale Read Online Free PDF

at the seams, and they were a delight to travel in. Bramble thickets let me pass. Falling snow caught in the fur of my cap as in an animal's pelt and was easily shaken out before it melted and trickled down my neck. I felt like a creature of the forest as we made our way home, silent and invisible in animal guise.

65. The Hunt
    As much as I enjoyed the company of the forest people, I was glad to come home again to our hollow tree. I missed spending time alone with Maara, and for a week, while snow continued to fall, I had her undivided attention. Her conversations with the forest people had awakened memory, and she told me more stories of her childhood. She even spoke a little of her time in Elen's house, although those memories were more painful. When we ran out of things to talk about, we lay in each other's arms and let our bodies speak of love.
    Sometimes I felt her thoughts stray from me, and I knew what she was thinking.
    "You miss them," I said to her one day, when I caught her gazing at the entrance of our hollow tree as if she awaited visitors.
    She admitted that she did.
    I surprised myself by saying, "I miss them too."
    Not only did I miss the forest people. I missed what I saw in Maara when we were with them. When she was the center of their attention, she seemed half pleased and half shy, as if having the attention of others was something new to her, which I suppose it was. I missed watching her in conversation and in banter too quick for me to follow. I missed seeing her unguarded, as I had never seen her in company before. I surprised myself again by suggesting that perhaps we should spend the winter in the village of the forest people.
    Maara nodded, as if she had already thought of it.
    "Would we be welcome?"
    "Aamah has dropped a hint or two," said Maara. "I think it would be wise. We endanger them whenever we travel back and forth."
    It was true. We risked being seen by strangers, and we had begun to wear a path between our home and theirs. Maara's other reasons I let her keep to herself.
    The next morning we took up our packs and left our hollow tree. I felt a bit nostalgic about leaving our cozy home. On an impulse, without Maara knowing, I left something of myself behind. I slipped one of my arrowheads from my pouch and left it in the crevice where I had found the offering of the forest people.
    Not far from the forest people's village we came upon the fresh tracks of a family of deer. Beside them were the pawprints of a wolf. Maara knelt to examine the tracks. At the same time, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something moving through the trees. When I turned my head to see what it was, there was nothing there. I felt the hair rise on the back of my neck.
    Slowly, careful not to make a sound, Maara slipped her pack from her shoulders and set it down. Then she relieved me of mine. She made a sign to me to take out my bow and string it.
    Another movement caught my eye. This time I thought I knew what it was, and all my childhood fears blew like a cold wind through my heart.
    "Wolves," I whispered to Maara.
    "No," she whispered back. "Men."
    My fear of wolves yielded to a fear of something yet more dangerous.
    "Strangers?"
    "No."
    Before I could say more, she put her finger to her lips and drew an arrow from my quiver. When I offered her the bow, she shook her head. She handed me the arrow, then fastened the quiver to my belt.
    Maara gestured to me to stay close behind her, as she followed the tracks into the forest, moving with a stealthy gait that was faster than a walk, yet not quite a run. I imitated her as best I could, and for once I moved as quietly as she did. The moccasins cushioned my step. In my new clothing, I was as silent as an animal in its skin.
    As we traveled farther from the brook, the trees closed in around us. The shade was so deep that even the snow-covered ground failed to lighten the gloom. What little light entered here hung in mist that baffled the eye.
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