Forest Hunt

[Temperance]

Continued from here


The hounds barked and bayed as they rushed forward into the forest through the sparse undergrowth. Some had their noses high the air, others leaned theirs closer to the ground as the hungry dogs attempted to catch the scent of the elusive hart. Every now and then a servant on foot could be seen assisting in driving the dogs deeper into the forest while the hunters raced after the dogs in hot pursuit.

[Douglas FitzJames]

As the hunting party began to split up, Douglas held no doubt as to which hunt he was following. He checked his rifle as, along with many of the Life Guard, he shadowed the King in persuit of the white hart.

Ranging out a ways from the main party as Charles Whitehurst had also indicated that he would, Douglas could hear the dogs baying over the sound of hoofbeats. Keen blue eyes scanned the forest through which they rode, looking for some pale glimpse that would indicate their quarry.

[Heather O`Roarke]

There simply was no way that Heather was going to confine herself to the sedate hunting in the clearing. A small crossbow was attached to her saddle and she intended to use it. With a push of her knees (for she did ride astride) she moved Marino to follow the dogs who were in pursuit. The redhead leaned forward with excitement caught in her throat. "Come on boy," she whispered seductively in the horse's ear "Let's show what we are made of."

[Charles Blount]

The party had thinned out a bit as first they split with part heading off to the clearing for a shoot and the rest plunging into the more closed terrain of the forest. Being so close to Windsor the Forest was still rather open which allowed them to easily keep up with the Hounds and more importantly to continue with conversation.

Charles gave the King’s offer of a wager on who might bring down the heart some serious thought as a simple sum of money would not do the occasion justice. “It is a common practice among Huntsmen that the the victor of the chase is awarded the liver of the fallen beast. Shall we wager your Grace that if I be so fortunate to take down the heart at the feast tonight you award me the honor of sitting by your side and being the first to partake when the cooks serve up the liver. If Your Majesty fells the great beast then I will wait upon you during the feast, as would the littlest squire, to fill your cup and to personally serve you the dish of the liver. Would that be a wager that would interest Your Majesty?”

[Fluff]

Waving for the last time at Darlene, Thomas pulled his horse and joined the chase. In an instance he was all concentration, his eyes lighting up with the intense enjoyment of the moment. This was one of the things he missed in Jamaica. Oh, the thrill of it! He did not even spare a moment to frown at Heather, having accepted long ago that getting her to ride sedately was a lost cause. Instead he luxuriated in the thrill of the moment, all muscle, sweat and barely controlled violence.

[Nigel Harrington]

Nigel put his spurs to his black warhorse, the mare bred and trained for the battlefield. Nigel dipped his lance point and drifted away from the main pack of courtiers, pushing his mount to stay on the forward edge of the hunt. The hunt was an interesting diversion but it was no thrill like that of a cavalry charge.

Nigel turned to grin at Cat, his lips peeled back on his terrible visage. "Come my lady, perhaps we'll flush a boar all to ourselves!" Nigel shouted across to Cat.

[Catriona MacGregor]

Cat grinned back at Nigel as her mare quickly wove through the trees. While Nigel's horse might have been tried in battle, her own had been raised for the hunt. The hills and forests of the Highlands were where Cat and Scathach had grown up and racing through the trees after quarry was just another day to them. Her father had loved the hunt and often had hunting parties on the estate and from the time Cat could sit a saddle, she had ridden with the hunt.

The holster for her rifle was well kept and ready to release the firearm when needed. Cat leaned close to her mount's neck as her eyes scanned the brush, looking for the tell-tale signs.

[Mirtel Hardwick]

Having decided to join the party heading to race after the hart in the forest, Mirtel Christabel firmly settled on making the best of it and turned her head to smile brightly at Edward. “I am glad you were not disappointed by my song during the ball. La! I was most worried about it beforehand,” she responded, interested as always when someone brought music up as a topic. Ah, but Edward professed a fondness for music himself, at least that’s what it sounded to Mirtel’s ever eager ears, and so she hurried ot advantage of the change and ask. “My lord, I’ve been looking for some songs about the sea or sailing, a song you might hear while aboard a ship fast on the way to some distant destination. I haven’t really been able to find anything nice. Would you by any chance know any songs or melodies you could teach me as well?”

With her request now out for Captain Russell to consider, Mirtel Christabel flashed him one more quick smile before urging Phae to gallop as well as they headed deeper into the forest with all the other hunters.

[Hope]

“Then together we can make sure that the hunters are quite humane." he coaxed, eyes bright upon her. He could see that she to'd and fro'd, he provided her with his most persuasive smile hoping to tip the scales in his favour.

"You shall not hold me back any more than I wish to be... held." he fretted after his reply, that he'd been a bit too daring, it was born of desperation. He did not want her to slip away again, when he'd only just come upon her. He'd thought he'd been too cautious last time, and perhaps erred on the opposite extreme this time. Yet, heaven smiled upon him, and some how she agreed.

Now, here he was galloping his horse along side her, and not at a slowed pace at all. "You are a fine horsewoman." he called to her, while keeping his eyes out for obstacles, a grand smile upon his face.

"I've got just the one." he called of her request for a seafarers song, "When the right moment comes, I shall tell you it." atop horseback going at a fair pace was not that moment. The adventurer within him fleetingly wondered if he might deviate with her into some fernclad grotto?

[Temperance]

The group moved swiftly, the riders having to bend to avoid one large branch hanging low over the path, the horses jumping over shrubbery while the hounds ran underfoot while trying to catch the scent. One pretty, if a tad small, white and br own dog stilled near a bush. His head lowered as he sniffed the dog stilled, one foot lifted. A growl started lifting from his throat and in no time there were other dogs clamoring around him.

The precious scent caught the pack of dogs ran off in the same directions, their noses pressed to the ground while the racers followed. It didn't take logn before one of the dogs bayed and lifted his nose, catching the faint smell from air and in just minutes a keen eye could notice aslender body crowned with very decent six-pronged horns. The royal hunt for today had been well prepared with a suitable area quartered off to guarantee a successful trip. For a heartbeat the world stilled but there was no stopping the dogs as they raced after the hart that fleet-footedly took off.

[Charles Blount]

As keen a huntsman as he was Charles was astute enough not to out distance the King and his bride to be but as the hounds began to bay he moved up a little and as they began to run he moved even with the princess. However when movement in the underbrush reveled the fleeting glimpse of a stag Charles belted out the time honored cry,

“VIEW HALOO!”

And took off in pursuit inching forward and forward until even reasonable men might debate as to which horseman was in the lead. Charles did his best to keep his mount’s nose no further than the Kings mount’s withers but as they had to maneuver through the bracken such precise deference to the Royal precedence was not always easy to observe.

“Behold Sire, he looks to be of eight points at the least!” It was well known scientific fact known to all hunters that a heart would mysteriously lose several points upon the kill much like it was to fishermen that the ‘one that got away’ was invariably of monster proportions the like of which was unlikely to be seen again.

[Douglas FitzJames]

As the hounds began to bay Douglas felt his blood thrill. How long had it been since he'd ridden to a proper hunt? The first glimpse of the hart caused the whole hunt to pick up it's pace, the riders touching heels to horses' flanks, and Douglas no different as he urged Daemhan on, riding on the flank and keeping one eye on the hart and one on the King. The hunt might be exciting but as a Life Guard his first duty was the safety of His Majesty.

[Fluff]

Mountjoy found a keen and sharp hunter at the other side of the King, joining in his warcry, though the words he uttered in that that unmistakeably English accent were almost a reply:

"TALLY-HO* "

Here was Lord Oakham, viscount and navy officer, an honourable gentleman, though right now the description would rather be a boisterous, rambunctious boy on an adventure, truly enjoying the moment of excitement and forgetting all else. He steered his mount in the chase following the yapping dogs, his eyes sharp, his pistol drawn and at the ready.

"Ten points," he cried to Mountjoy, not to be undone "Ten points at the very least Your Majesty."

OOC: * originally French meaning "seize up"

[Heather O`Roarke]

Upon the cries of the gentlemen Heather let out a loud whoop and followed suit. How she longed for Princeton in this moment. He would have loved the scent of blood in the air, the sense of urgency. It was a brief moment of regret that she had given into the advice of York even if she knew that the Ducal horse lover was quite right she ought to spare her stallion the daily stresses of being her principle mount.

Her eyes flared. The hart. Her hand rested briefly on the crossbow but she did not pick it up yet. No thought went to the correct order of things, of letting Karoline or her groom go first. The redhead was simply enjoying the moment, being one with her mount, her ears filled with the yapping of dogs and breaking of branches . She urged Marino forward with a little swat of her whip without a care for her own safety.

[Nigel Harrington]

Nigel spotted the hart as it bolted, the movement drawing his eye. "There!" He yelled out to Cat then getured with his lance tip.Nigel turned his head to see is Cat had seen the hart but he saw his breath was wasted, as Cat had seen the hart even before he had. "Small, maybe four points.."

Nigel put his spurs to his mare and closed the distance. He still tried to keep clear of the royal party and gaggle of cortiers dogging their heels. As Nigel saw a flash of scarlet uniform past through his vision, he dismssd the idle thought that surely a single officer wouldn't be missed in this chase

[Charles Whitehurst]

Charles chased neither hare nor buck. His mission was to chase the King and keep him safe from potential assailants. As such, he listened to the calls of the hunters but kept his eyes on the path forward and any suspicious movement from the undergrowth.

[Temperance]

“I shall take that wager, Mountjoy!” The king called, very obviously in a merry mood as he spurred his white stallion forward after the white hart. The king made no comment as to the prongs of the deer. This was a royal hunt after all and they rode after a hart, which meant that the horns crowning the beast had at least five prongs. An animal with less would not be called a royal hart. Nor would a hunt prepared for a king ever be organised with anything less than a royal hart.

The hart was a proud animal, swift and strong, and cleared the small water ditch that happened on the way with an easy jump. One of the dogs attempt to follow, jumping the ditch, only to be thrown aside by a kick of a strong hind leg as the hart burst forward. The rets of the dogs splashed through the ditch after the proud animal, horses jumping the ditch as well. At the forefront of the hunters was the trio of of the monarch, lord Mountjoy and Lord Oakham.

Countess Atherstone had drawn level to the horses of the lifeguards riding after princess Karoline, to the right of the trio at the forefront. Countess Alyth and Lord Blackheath were to the left further behind, not amongst the first nor the last hunters, but somewhere in the middle. The life guard major meanwhile, keeping his attention on the surroundings more than on the hart, might notice one of the dogs turning towards the right after crossing the ditch, still baying and rushing forward. In just a moment he was swept up by the rest of the pack though and directed back after the trail of the hart escaping through the forest.

From somewhere to the right of them some overeager hunter had loosed an arrow toward sthe hart that missed by a longshot, harmlessly falling onto the ground and after a few moments broken under horse hoof.

A small clearing seemed to be coming up ahead, might some hunter have a better chance of hitting the hart there?

[Mirtel Hardwick]

Mirtel Christabel smiled faintly at Edward’s suggestion of a humane hunt. She did eat meat and knew that an animal had to die for that. She merely didn’t wish to kill the animal herself, although should she ever be placed in a situation where she was the one who had to loose the arrow she would do it without lingereing regrets. Her brother called her headstrong, but the truth of the matter was that Mirtel Christabel was a practical woman who had to strength of character to get whatever needed to be done done. In fact she suspected that even George did not fathom how far she would be willing to go to achieve the end she desired. Father had had an inkling, but even he hadn’t known the full extent of it.

“La! Thank you, although I really should be complimenting you. You seem as comfortable on horseback as you must be aboard a ship,” still Mirtel beamed as Edward complimented her riding, “My father taught me when I was a child.” Father hadn’t been eager about it when he had first discovered Mirtel climbing ontot he back of his gelding without permission, but after a couple of days had come to see the sense in teaching Mirtel to ride. “And Phae is a true sweetheart. Father gave her to me for my sixteenth birthday.”

“Excellent. I shall look forward to hearing it then,” Mirtel Christabel flashed a quick smile at Edward, but then the calls came from the front alerting that the hart had been sighted. Clutching Phae’s reigns tighter, Mirtel Christabel leaned forward in saddle as she urged Phae to rush after the hart with all the other hunters.

[Catriona MacGregor]

Nigel and Cat

Looking over at Nigel, she called out, "Perhaps if we come at it from either side, herd it towards an open spot." She nodded towards the upcoming clearing. Her rifle was slid free of its holster and the reins of her mare were held confidently in her left, to be easily wrapped around the pummel when she needed both hands to aim and shoot.

[Nigel Harrington]

Nigel's lips peeled back in a quick fearsome grin. "Done!" he yelled back to Cat as he put his spurs to his black mount. Nigel angled to make a diagonal move on the hart, half of the pincer movement that Cat had suggested. Nigel was impressed, the pincer movenment was a standard cavalry tactic but it was easier understood on paper than fielded.

Come on girl, let's show these fops and harlots on their racing and hunting horses just what exacting 300 years of Blackheath warhorse breeding means!

As the hunting cries were let loose by the Court's hunters, Nigel not to be out done, let loose with a war cry in a commander's voice that has dominated no few battlefields. "Charleroi!"

[Douglas FitzJames]

Urging Daemhan through the trees, riding at the head of the Life Guards near the King, Douglas spied the hart up ahead as others did, as the hounds bayed and renewed their chase. Around him others cried out their excitement, but the Scotsman saw no need, keeping low to his horse's neck as they cleared the stream, watching the King and the hart.

The forest appeared to clear up ahead, soon someone would have a chance at the hart. As he understood the rules, precendence said that the King dictated whom, although from the missed arrow it was plain that some weren't prepared to stand on precedence.

[Catriona MacGregor]

Cat had no idea of military maneuvers, but she did know how to hunt both singly and in a group. Her father had trained her in this particular move and she knew it could be tricky. You had to make certain that you and your partner moved as a team, not willy-nilly, so out of the corner of her eye, she kept an eye on her grim companion while steering her mare opposite of Nigel. Her attention switched from the hart to an upcoming clearing to the trees around her to watch for any obstacles. Scathath knew what to do, having been trained to the hunt along with her mistress and knew all the voice commands. Though, the commands were in Gaelic. Cat had felt it best so that the mare wouldn't get distracted by other hunters. So it was that with subtle commands of left and right in Gaelic, she got ready for finding an opening....

[Hope]

With her mention of her horse being a sixteenth birthday gift, Edward was prompted to wonder how old she was now. She was not the air-head that courts youngest ladies were, though she still held the appealing glow of youth. To his eyes she seemed a very marriageable age. "She is plainly fine stock, and fine looking too..." he commented, "Any home would be proud to have her, including my own." He attempted discreet flattery of her, though if she took offence he'd be quick to say he'd only been talking about the mare.

Further chance of conversation was forestalled, as some excitement near the front spurred the young woman to ride faster. With concern for her safety Edward kicked his own mount to hasten after her - yet could not help but admire the bounce of her seat in the saddle.

[Temperance]

The escaping hart reached the clearing and moved to cross it with long strides. As the riders reched the edge of trees the master huntsman was quick to hand the king a weapon that Charles Rex lifted. Lifting the crossbow and taking aim for a moment the king loosed an arrow that grazed the hart's hind quarters and drawing first blood. The hounds bayed loudly eagerly, spurred on by the blood.

"Gentlemen, take your best shots." And with those simple words and an obliging wave of the hand from princess Karoline everyone was given free clearance to take a shot at the hart.

Meanwhile Nigel and Cat had split to right and left to trap the hart between them and keep him on the straight and narrow. A clever plan, but having started from the middle of the hunters pack the pair was only just pulling level with the monarch and his entourage and would need to spur on their horses greatly for the hart to feel threatened over being boxed in.

[Charles Whitehurst]

The dogs seemed interested in something to the right, as opposed to the location of the hart. As such, Charles became interested in what might have attracted the dog's interest. Hopefully, it was nothing other than the flash of movement of other hunters. Nevertheless, he needed to assure himself that there was no villain awaiting a chance to strike.

As others moved in for the kill, Charles eyed the area behind the King and Karoline, for any sign of threats that might be ignored in the tumult of the chase. One needed to be careful of a potential madman.