The Crimson Chalice by Victor Canning Page A

first.”
    â€œTia!” Baradoc frowned at her.
    Asimus smiled. “There is no call to scold her. She is the practical one. Things must be clear in the right order in her mind. It is no scolding fault. I will tell you about the gift when I give it to you, and then of the dream—but neither until the day you leave for Aquae Sulis, for that, too, was part of the dream and—”
    At this moment Baradoc jumped to his feet. Turning his head toward the forest, he said sharply, “Listen!”
    For a moment or two the three of them were silent, listening. The fire burned low like a small red eye. The feet of the trees around the clearing were lost in black shadow, and beyond the fire the three dogs were alert, facing away from the hut, watching the forest. Through the stillness of the evening came the sound of a low, long-sighing throat rumble from Lerg, and then Cuna whined sharply once. Then suddenly from beyond the stony, bush-clothed rise that held the shrine came a sharp, racking burst of deep roaring. There was a silence for a while, and then the spasm of roaring broke through the night again and this time it was much closer.
    Baradoc turned to Asimus and Tia and said quietly, “Get inside the hut.” He reached down and pulled Tia up and then helped Asimus to his feet.
    As they moved to the hut Tia said, “What is it?”
    Asimus put his hand on Tia’s arm and led her to the door, saying, “There is a time for questions—but it is not now.” Then he turned and said to Baradoc, “I have heard the sound before—twice. The only thing you can use is a bow. A spear would—”
    Baradoc broke in impatiently, “I know. Now, into the hut.”
    He went in with them and took up his bow and strapped on the belt with its quiver of arrows and went back into the clearing, closing the rough door behind him. Though the door, he knew, would hold no protection against the attack to come. That had to be met and held before the bear could move across the clearing to it. The racking, angry roaring split the still night again and the dark wall of trees sent back its thunder in searing, pain-filled echoes. Only once before, while hunting with his old master, had Baradoc ever heard the sound; but the memory lived with him and he knew that the beast that was coming their way moved now in a frenzy of pain and hatred for all of the kind who had lodged that pain with it. Somewhere in the forest recently, he guessed, a party of hunters, eager for meat, for the rich bear fat and the warm skin which would ward off winter cold, had attacked one of the last few of the great brown bears that roamed the southlands. Avoided and left to themselves, they were no threat to human life, content to live on honey from wild bees’nests, on leaves and forest fruits and grabs and insects. But attacked and not killed, escaping with broken spears and arrows in its body, such an animal turned killer, savaging with blind anger and pain-goaded fury anything that crossed its path, following the scent of homestead fire, of any human or animal body that came downwind, seeking only a berserk killing to assuage its own agony.
    Baradoc went to the fire and stood with it between him and the rocky rise. He called the dogs to him. Only in desperation would he send them in against the bear, and then only to harry and not to attack for not even Lerg could stand against such an animal. He slipped two of the short arrows from the quiver, held one in his mouth and fitted the other to his bow. When the bear came over the rock rise, following upwind the smoke and human scent, it would be outlined clear against the sky. The bear would see him and come straight for him … and he knew that he would have to wait until it reached the foot of the rise before he loosed the first arrow at the farthest killing range.
    Behind him Cuna whined gently and from the corner of his eye he saw Lerg stretch his great jaws in a