5. Brats, Books, and Hunters #5
Arthur made a small sound, then said, "That Master Padurowski has managed to keep order without us," he gestured to the Elders, "observing a problem speaks highly of his and the other Hunters' efforts, but I agree with his concern that disturbances may well erupt in even less appropriate settings."
The priestess stood. "Indeed. I have observed tension during worship, and such should not be." She sat again, frowning.
"The last time such counsel was given was the year of the Yellow Hunt," he added.
Master Itzaak gestured strong agreement, then stood.
"Some of the older Hunters wonder if the year gap between the trained Hunters such as Ladislu, the twins, Ianku, Constanche, and that group, and the younger Hunters, has left us without a moderating influence.
Or a sufficiently numerous moderating influence," he added quickly, after a nod to Ladislu.
"I concur with Master Itzaak. I am tired of being prodded during what should be basic training and skills tests." Nikolai scowled. "They gain no benefit from ignoring the task at hand in favor of trying our," he waved to Ladislu, "patience."
Mistress Urshla shook her head and gestured "mild disagreement.
" "They believe that they do gain, which is part of the problem.
Some of them, not all, but some, feel that they earn respect from other young Hunters by constantly challenging their elders and each other.
My younger brother has spoken of such, claims that the Hunter who fights the most with his peers becomes the senior Hunter or leader of the Hunters when he comes of age. "
Arthur braced as his elder brother stood, a dark cloud over his head. "They need to be disabused of this error. And of others. We have lost eight active or part-retired Hunters in the last twelve months, and two more so badly injured that they cannot truly Hunt save as emergency defense."
The other Elders murmured, and hands danced. Arthur counted in his head. Yes, eight, plus two, and six the year before, and four the previous year. "The numbers increase," he murmured to Ladislu.
"Anno, Maistru. I like not the pattern."
"Nie," No. "The mage of shadow in Devon County Hunts at least five times per year, or so Master Tay and Master Lestrang have said."
Ladislu gestured, "unhappy-concern-muddled tracks."
Mistress Cimbrissa rose, and the others fell silent. "We Healers grow tired of patching fools." Arthur's younger sister and the little one both nodded and gestured "strong agreement."
The senior Healer gestured toward Ladislu. "The leader of the Hunters has done excellent work keeping order, but it is time to speak with all the Hunters, active, future, and inactive, about proper discipline and the reasons for it."
Petru-the-Old creaked to his feet for the first time in several meetings. "I was young the last time a Hunter was removed from the clan by the other men. It would be better that such were not needed again." With that he sat. His word implied that the Hunter had been removed from life as well.
"Gregor the Elder's uncle," Cimbrissa said.
"He attempted to strike the priestess for counseling him about bringing hostilities and disrespect into the place of worship.
" The hiss from the other Elders filled the room, and Mistress Raj fluffed to three times her usual size, fangs bared, ears flat.
The Healer glanced that way, then said, "Not long afterward he ...
departed." She gave him a look. Arthur gestured understanding, as did Ladislu.
The fool had been sent to explain himself to a greater Authority.
Mistress Corava had been showing her husband a calendar.
He gestured a negation. She pointed to a different date, and he tapped it.
"Saturday the twenty-first, and yes, I know it is a quarter day.
Lady of Night be gracious, the covens will not do anything especially foolish.
" He drooped a little. Given what had happened on the last quarter day, Arthur agreed with his brother's fatigue.
Arthur hid a smile as three of the Elders, and Mistress Raj, all touched wood.
"Perhaps we should pray for rain," the little one hissed behind her hand to Mistress Urshla. The other sorceress rubbed one index finger over the other in a "naughty, naughty" gesture. Ladislu pretended deafness as well as blindness.
"We," Raj gestured with one paw to her mage, "will speak with the other workers of shadow about being prepared to Hunt that night."
"Some of the newly-retired Hunters likewise," Niko averred. "And I will ask my partner's lady to advise the covens of the light to be warier than usual."
"Benes. Are there any objections?" Absolute quiet filled the room. "Any other matters that need the attention of the Elders or the Clan as a whole?"
Boris the Gray raised one hand. "The Pavlovich brothers, the younger two who took the short-term lease on the dairy farm in Devon County. They wish to take up the property for at least five years, perhaps longer if the Great God blesses their efforts."
"I know of no objections," Master Itzaak said.
Arthur gestured "confirm." "Nor do I. They use their saved funds for the first year's payments, and the Devon County family will retain ownership of the land.
Taxes are paid through the end of this year, per the brothers," he said.
"I'd rather have them there than seeking their fortunes elsewhere.
" The Lone Hunter could keep them out of mischief.
Boris the Gray smiled. "You yet dislike salt water?"
"That is me, and yes," Skender rumbled. "My guts even more so."
Several of the oldest Elders labored to conceal smiles and other signs of amusement. Since he had not been born when Skender and their parents crossed the Great Sea, he had no opinion of ships and ocean crossings. Beside him, Ladislu had grown thoughtful, but held silence.
"Any other business?" Skender waited, then declared, "We are done."
Arthur stepped away from Ladislu and raised his hands. The others bowed their heads, and he chanted, "Go now with the blessing of the Great God, His Son, and the Lady whom we serve. May the Great God watch over and guide our ways, if He wills."
"Amén," the others replied. After a moment of silence, they began to talk quietly. Raj lowered her paws almost the full way to the floor, then followed them with the rest of her and trotted out.
"No fur follows," Niko observed, so quiet he almost did not hear. Indeed, the usual trail was noticeable by its absence.
He got a bite to eat from the night hearth, then went out onto the broad porch around the house.
Florian acknowledged him as he passed but did not stop.
Leopold vanished in the dim light, his heavy fur and dark coloring rendering him nearly invisible.
Master Lestrang still grumbled about the unfairness of having a Familiar who glowed in the dark.
A few minutes later Ladislu and the little one joined him. "Yes?"
"Sir, would it be possible to send Andreas to sea?" Ladislu inquired.
"In a boat, not as fish food," the little one reminded her husband. He frowned but gestured "reluctant agreement" even so.
He considered as he finished the mug of hot cider.
How would that be arranged? "In truth, I do not know.
Those Hunters who seek the salt waters either have kindred who sail, or—" He stopped.
He did not truly know how they learned of the Hunters' ship.
"The last to depart so was Vladi's younger uncle, not long after the Darkness War.
He has not maintained contact with his family, so far as I am aware. "
The next night he gathered tools from the shed and forced himself to go to the garden.
What would his elder brother and the others say if he left his fica in charge of the goth shop and spent his days among the vegetables?
He snorted. Scold him for not retiring sooner, like as not, then ask him to settle more disputes and to take over keeping the clan's accounts full time.
"Defender save me from such a fate," he whispered to the night as he set to work.
Two hours by star later, he dug sore fingers deep into the chilly soil and pulled.
The last two carrots slid free of the dirt.
He wiped the deep crimson vegetables clean and set them into the basket.
"Finis," it is completed. Nothing else hid under the ground or in tangles of stalks and vines.
The wind no longer felt as cold as before he started the final harvest. His back and hands grumbled, but when did they not?
He moved the basket past the edge of the garden.
With a reluctant sigh he picked up the hoe and attacked the last few vines, stems, and other greenery.
His nepatisha claimed to find weeding and chopping old growth into the soil to be soothing.
He did not. It needed to be done, so he did it.
"The owner's footprints are the best fertilizer," some people claimed.
If true, this should be the most productive ground in the New Land!
Or so his hands and shoulders proclaimed.
The goth garden, as his fica called it, prospered far beyond his hopes.
It had begun as a curiosity and amusement, then turned into a source of steady income for the clan.
People had proved more than willing to purchase the excess.
That they paid twice or even four times as much for oddly colored vegetables remained a wonder.
He did not argue. The income sweetened his older brother's mood, an even greater boon.
He stopped and rested his hands and shoulders.
Once more back toward the waiting basket and it would be done for the season and the year.
What was that? A slight motion stirred the soil. As he watched, small shapes dove in and out of the black dirt, stirring it. One paused, waved a paw, and returned to ... Arthur blinked and looked once more. All the dirt had been turned and now lay quiet.