Free Sarum by Edward Rutherfurd

dramatic gestures, he told her about the auroch.
    “Tep is ready,” he announced. “He will bring his older son and we shall hunt at dawn.”
    One man, one cripple and two boys. At once Akun was afraid. Her youngest child was still a baby, and she could not afford to lose her man to an auroch.
    “Go to the other camps,” she said. “Get a hunting party.”
    But Hwll shook his head.
    “No time. It will be gone by early morning.”
    “It’s madness,” she protested.
    “The auroch is big, but it’s slow,” he countered. “We can lame it, then follow until it grows weak. Wear it down.” It was the method of hunting used in the tundra and no one understood it better.
    But if they made even one mistake, they could just as easily be killed, and Akun looked at him in despair. She knew his obstinate nature, though – it had brought them to Sarum from the tundra; and so she only shook her head.
    “My son will say that his father killed the mighty auroch,” he said with pride.
    The little party was on the move before dawn. Tep and his son each carried a bow and two spears, as did Otter. Hwll brought spears and a heavy axe made of a broad flint head he had obtained from his quarry, fastened to a shaft of oak. The arrows would weaken the beast; but the spears with their long, deadly heads of sharpened flint would pierce the auroch’s strong hide and embed themselves deeply. Since the technique of the hunters would be to maim the auroch, it was important that the first spear should strike deep behind the shoulder, slowing the beast down and working its way in towards the heart. After the first assault, the hunters would follow it relentlessly, striking again and again, until the auroch was finally so exhausted that they could move in for the kill. Then Hwll would slit open its throat with his knife. It was an effective method, but it was essential that the first attack be successful: for if they failed to maim the beast, then it would either career away, or it would turn on them and destroy them. All four hunters knew they risked death that morning.
    With suppressed excitement, they made their way along the riverbank, in the early dawn when the birds had just begun the first, tentative sounds of their dawn chorus.
    “Let it still be there,” Hwll softly prayed, as he searched the darkness.
    The first grey light was appearing when they reached the place where the auroch had been the day before. As the earliest tinge of dawn lit the horizon, it was just possible to make out, about half a mile away, a dark shape by a bend in the river. His hand clenched on the handle of his axe.
    “It’s there,” he whispered.
    The hunt was conducted in silence. A faint wind was blowing from the south up the river. The four hunters fanned out, keeping up wind in the cover of the trees, or the clumps of reeds in the clearing.
    The sun rose over the ridge, breaking through the grey clouds. The auroch continued to graze, and the hunters remained invisible.
    The attack was sudden. In perfect unison, all four hunters rose and hurled their spears. They came from three sides, and were all within thirty feet of the auroch when they threw. It had been an expert piece of stalking.
    Hwll watched the auroch’s head jerk violently as it let out a bellow that echoed down the valley. And at the same instant, he knew the attack had failed.
    His own spear had been well aimed. It had struck behind the shoulder but it had failed to penetrate deeply. Otter’s had struck the auroch’s throat, but had not done much damage either. Both Tep and his son had missed completely. It was the worst possible combination: the animal was enraged but not badly hurt.
    The disaster took place in seconds.
    In a fury the auroch wheeled about, stamping its huge hoofs and searching for its attackers. It was Tep that the auroch saw: for he had come across the clearing with only the reeds for cover. The auroch put down its tremendous head, and charged. The cunning little