Hunting

Let's leave the commotion in the tent aside for now. Where had our Solam gone? To answer that, we'll have to start with his aunt Zaira becoming pregnant for the second time.

It was true that Solari had raised Solam from childhood, but she was a Shaman herself and was always busy. After all, there weren't many Shamans in the tribe.

(It was common knowledge that Orcs were notoriously lacking in magical talent. Each clan had only a handful of Shamans, and Mages were even rarer. In fact, there wasn't a single Mage in all of Avalon. Shamans were the only spellcasters in Avalon.)

Among Orc clans, Shamans had the most side jobs. They worked as doctors, veterinarians, officiants, and more. Female Shamans were even busier: they had to attend every wedding and funeral, and they were also expected to handle all sorts of matters among the young women and wives. So Solari barely had any time to look after Solam herself.

Fortunately, Aunt Zaira had only recently married into the Frostblade Clan. Whenever Aunt Solari was busy, it was Zaira who looked after Solam and Krum. Since Zaira had been married for years without having a child, she treated Solam, the boy without a mother or father, as her own son. It might not have been entirely proper, but if Solam ranked all his relatives by how close he felt to them, Granny Karom and Aunt Zaira would definitely be in the top two.

When Aunt Zaira finally became pregnant, Solam felt he ought to do something for her. Helping care for a pregnant woman was out of the question; he didn't trust anyone else to do it, and he didn't trust himself either.

So he thought of hunting, to help Aunt Zaira build up her strength. He knew she didn't lack for food—her husband was the best hunter, and the old man and his eldest brother had also been hunting rare prey for her to eat. But Solam felt that after all the years Aunt Zaira had spent caring for him, he ought to do something for her.

After all, Solam considered himself an adult. He couldn't comfortably accept everyone else's care without giving anything in return. So he decided to go hunting himself.

Though Orcs revered strength, they weren't so reckless as to send children into danger. Orcs who hadn't come of age were generally forbidden from entering the forest.

Solam hadn't had much chance to sneak out before, but today, the whole family was too distracted to keep an eye on him. So he decided to slip away. Somehow, though, Krum, who was usually so honest, caught on to what Solam was planning. When he learned Solam intended to sneak off hunting, he alternated between pleading and threatening until Solam finally gave in and agreed to take him along.

Early that morning, they entered the forest with their Direwolf companions. Over the past two years, Frostfang and Bloodfang had grown like they'd been pumped full of air. They were nearly as big as calves now. Solam couldn't help staring at them in wonder. Damn, the creatures in this world really didn't make sense. They'd grown this huge in just two years.

It was nearly noon before they found traces of their ideal prey: Alpine Goats, a kind of mountain goat that lived above the snowline. They rarely ventured below it and were extremely wary.

Their milk was considered the best nutritional supplement in Avalon. When winter approached, they came down into the forest to give birth. After just one winter of nursing, their kids grew strong enough to scale high mountains and walk with ease along steep cliffs. That was why the Avalon Orcs believed Alpine Goat milk was the best nourishment for newborn babies and mothers who had just given birth.

Solam and the others found Alpine Goat tracks at the foot of a hill in the forest. Reading tracks was one of the most basic skills a hunter needed. With the two Direwolves leading the way, they came to the edge of a clearing in the forest.

They crawled through the snow, slowly approaching the edge of the clearing. Four adults and three kids grazed in the open space—a fairly large herd. Alpine Goats lived in small groups like this because of their habitat. One adult male led the group; the rest were females and young. Their habits were a lot like those of lions in Solam's previous life: usually, one male stayed with three or four females.

The goats were all bent over, pawing through the snow. The grass roots beneath it were their favorite food.

"What should we do?" Krum signaled to Solam. Any unusual sound during a hunt could startle the prey, so hunters used special hand signals to communicate.

"First, take out the leader with a bow. Then use a throwing net to catch the mother with milk. Don't worry about the rest for now. Frostfang and Bloodfang will handle them," Solam signaled back.

They would take out the male leader first because a male goat could be a real nuisance once it went berserk defending its herd. They weren't afraid of it, but Solam remembered Uncle Trick's lessons: better safe than sorry. The fewer problems, the better. They were here to hunt, not to fight.

Solam signaled Frostfang to circle around from one side. Krum, beside him, signaled Bloodfang to go around the other. Direwolves were highly intelligent; they even had their own language for communicating with one another.

Then Solam and Krum split up and carefully approached the low bushes at the edge of the clearing. They watched the leader's movements closely. They had to stay out of its line of sight, which would lower the chance of being spotted. The leader was extremely wary. Though it kept pawing through the snow for food, it raised its head every so often to survey the area.

The leader kept watch while the herd grazed and led the others away when danger appeared. That was why it constantly scanned its surroundings: so it could spot danger as quickly as possible and escape along the fastest route. If it couldn't escape, it would risk its life to hold off the predator and give the rest of the herd time to flee. That was why Solam had to take it out first.

Whenever the goat raised its head, Solam and Krum immediately dropped flat and didn't move. The two Direwolves needed no reminding. They were natural hunters and knew exactly what to do.

They weren't far from the herd, but it still took them over half an hour to reach the best positions. Hunting required patience, and this was easy by comparison. Alpine Goats didn't have an especially keen sense of smell. Hunting prey with a sharp nose was much more troublesome. You had to be cautious, and sometimes you had to lie in the mud for hours to fool them.

Solam lay in the snow and waited a while, figuring Krum should have reached his position too. As they'd agreed beforehand, Solam would make the first move, and Krum and the others would attack once they saw him strike.

Solam slowly took the horn bow off his back and drew an arrow from his quiver. He watched the leader carefully. The moment it raised its head to survey the area, then lowered it to paw through the snow again, Solam drew his bow and fired.

The leader had just lowered its head when it suddenly saw a shadow flying toward it. Before it could react, it raised its head—and an arrow struck it in the eye. It dropped to its knees without even a bleat. The herd instantly panicked. Krum burst from the nearby bushes and threw his net at the mother who had given birth. The net opened beautifully in midair, spreading into a perfect circle and catching the mother in the middle. It also happened to catch a kid beside her, which was an unexpected bonus.

Throwing nets were a hunting technique unique to Orcs. They were woven from rope spun from a hemp-like plant, with short thorny spikes set into the net. Stones and carved bones weighed down its edges, making escape nearly impossible for anything caught inside. A true master with a throwing net could even catch birds in flight.

The two Direwolves circled in at the same time, each pouncing on a target it had picked. Frostfang was closer to another kid, so it went for that one and killed it. Bloodfang was luckier: it had chosen a female. It clamped its jaws around her neck and knocked her down, but didn't kill her, holding her firmly in place instead. The last female was farthest away. Startled like a rabbit, she bolted without even looking where she was going. She was lucky enough to get away, but they didn't chase her.

Krum ran excitedly toward the animals caught in the net. "This is incredible! Two for one!" No wonder he was so excited. For his first real hunt, he'd managed to catch two animals with a single throw of the net. That was a remarkable haul.

Solam cheerfully ran over to the dead leader and pulled the arrow from its eye. "Damn, I got lucky. Right through the eye!" Hunters considered a shot through the eye a remarkable feat. It was the best possible display of a hunter's skill, and the prey's hide remained completely undamaged, making it more valuable. But Solam had just gotten incredibly lucky. In all of Avalon, very few hunters could manage a shot like that. Even Uncle Trick, the best hunter in the Bloodaxe Clan, only managed it once in a while.

The two brothers happily tied up all the live animals with rope. As Krum roped up the female Bloodfang had knocked down, he noticed she was pregnant too. "Ram, come look! This female's pregnant as well!"

"Where? Where?" Solam was dressing the leader when he heard that, and immediately scampered over to Krum. "Damn, really? We've hit the jackpot!"

"Yeah, we owe it to Bloodfang. None of us noticed she was pregnant. If he hadn't been quick enough to hold back and avoid killing her, we'd have missed our chance." Krum hugged Bloodfang's head and ruffled it vigorously. Bloodfang happily licked Krum's face.

Solam praised Bloodfang too. A dead female goat meant a little more meat, but a live one was a milk-producing machine. They were worth completely different amounts. With these two nursing mothers, Aunt Zaira and their newborn sibling—whether it was a little brother or sister—would have plenty of milk this winter and would get through the season in better health.