The half moon"s crescent peeked through the thick layer of storm clouds that shadowed the vibrant shades of late summer and signaled the onset of another dreary autumn. Summer was over, and the next six months would be filled with gloomy clouds, strong winds, heavy snows, and bare trees.
Typically, this time of year grated on Hakon"s mood. But today was different. Today marked Athelstan"s first hunt of the season. Today Hakon"s spirits soared.
Hakon had never been allowed to participate, had been forced to sit in the quiet monastery and learn his lessons while the men rode off. Every August, he had watched as the hunting parties disappeared beyond the gates, and accepted their departure with a stamp of his foot and a muttered remark of disrespect and impropriety, for which Father Otker a
