Gwyn nodded and considered his brother’s words.
Brynach was delighted to receive a deer foot trophy for his first successful hunt as staff, and almost as proud to be selected to bear the dressed carcass across the rump of his horse, while George and Rhys concealed their smiles at not having to carry the messy weight on their own horses.
George trotted up to Gwyn. “I think this is a good time to stop, sir, if that’s alright with you, while they’re flushed with success.”
“Agreed. Well done, huntsman. Think these youngsters learned anything?”
George looked at him sharply. He might have been referring to the hounds or to the entire hunt staff, including himself. He could make nothing of Gwyn’s bland expression. “I imagine we all did,” he said.
He turned to go, but Gwyn stopped him with a
