That night they roasted boar steaks over their small fire and laughed about the incident, Gya much amused by the look of astonishment on Isar’s face as the boar charged, and the clumsiness with which he fell about in the undergrowth trying to avoid the beast’s tusks.
‘You are good with that bow,’ Isar said with admiration. ‘Are you a hunter?’
‘My father was. He taught me much. I used to go hunting with him sometimes, but more often than not we used to shoot just for the joy of it, not at living things, but at targets. Some of the boys would throw things in the air for us to aim at. My father never missed, but I cannot say the same for myself.’
‘I am glad you did not miss this time,’ Isar said with feeling.
Gya smiled.
‘It is a matter of time and practice. I have had a bow so long it h
