Already past his prime, but still a twinkle in his eyes, Greg the 'hunter'- as they call him- was sitting in a corner of the smoke filled pub. He stared down the bottom of his glass as he took the last sip of wine, placed some money on the table and headed to the door. Young lads were drinking at a table close by, and one stood up blocking his path.
-I heard you are a 'hunter'...sir. Do you hunt beasts, or 'haunt' only pubs? -a loud laughter erupted amongst his mates.
-Well...first, I'd like to know who is asking, second, you only see what you want, blindfolded you see nothing, third, you are drinking at the same pub most nights, aren't you? - and he looked into his young eyes without flinching a nerve.
-My name is John...sir, at your service! -there was laughing again.
-It seems you only serve your looser friends!
The hunter picked up the youngster by his waist and set him on top of the table, pat him on the cheeks, and like nothing happened walked out the door. The pub turned quiet in an instant.
It was a warm, calm night. He remembered his own lost son, who would be about same age as the fellow in the pub. His heart still ached and he missed him very much. He had to admit, the cheeky lad at the pub had a good point. This is the way villagers regard him lately. He wallowed in grief instead of looking after himself and his property.
The hunter stared at the sword, the bow and arrows hung on the wall he hasn't even touch a while, then to his shaky hands, and wondered if he could still draw the bow.
Next day at the pub the usual crowd filled the air with smoke and laughter. John, the young man, approached and asked permission to sit at his table. He didn't mind the intruder, he liked the cheeky lad, who reminded him of his son and himself when he was a youngster.
-Did you come to insult me again? -said the hunter, and set back in his chair. -You know how it turned out last night, don't you?
-No sir! I came to apologize! It's been said you are a swordsman, and a master of shooting arrows...and...
-That was long time ago, my boy! -interrupted the hunter.
-Yes...I know that sir...but, with respect sir...I came to ask if you could please teach me the secrets of the trade?
-I knew you'd come up with something to pull a hard on me!
-No sir, I'm dead serious! I can pay for it sir, I work at the mill carrying sacks of grain. I have a strong back, and look at these muscles. -he stood and pulled up his shirt.
-I don't need your money! But, if so I'll think about it John!
-Thank you sir! And I'm really sorry for yesterday!
He removed the bow from the wall and inspected it with a keen eye. This turn of events gave him a new prospective. He loved hunting, and he felt excited just as he did in those times. He bent the wood a couple of times and found that it's still good, only needs a new string.
John showed up on time at the hunter's abode as promised. Things didn't happen the way he thought they would.
-We aren't going to shoot any arrows today?
-Patience is a virtue my friend, that's where being a hunter begins. Besides, do you have a bow and arrows?
-No sir, I don't. Sorry sir.
-Then let's go get some wood to make your bow! -he grabbed the ax and began to walk toward the forest behind his property.
-O no sir, I'm not going in there! That forest is cursed!
-You mean, you are afraid of some shadows?
-But...sir...that's the witch's forest! You can go in, but nobody ever got out!
Greg knew all about it's history, because his house is the closest in the village to the wooded area. Weird sounds, deep grunts were coming from it especially at night.
-Common boy, we'll just skim the edge! I'm sure we'll find some wood suitable for a bow.
Reluctantly John followed, always a couple of steps behind. On the way he asked about the circumstances of his son's disappearance. Greg talked about a dream he had at night, before the day he lost both his son and his son's bride. In it, the window of his chamber swung open, and a crow dropped a piece of black cloth on his pillow. The symbol of grief was still there in the morning when he woke up. The two lovers vanished never to be seen again, and nobody new what happened to them.
-I don't see anything good here, let's go a little deeper, we'll find some in there. -said Greg after a while.
The vegetation got denser the deeper they ventured, and light barely penetrated the dark green canopy.
-Ah...here it is! -said Greg stroking the bark of the tree. -Let's get working!
The noise and commotion attracted a visitor they couldn't yet see, only the grunts of something made them stop and listen for a moment. The rustle of leaves got closer, then a roar behind the bush startled the trespassers. A bear showed itself, standing tall on hind legs, and huge paws waving in the air, inching ever closer.
-Don't run, retreat slow and steady! -said the hunter.
A slight break in the canopy let a beam of light in, onto the bear's chest. An object under his chin broke the light, a reflection only Greg could see. Then the beast suddenly stopped, dropped to it's fours and walked away letting them finish the cut.
-Wow! Now that was weird...and scary! -said John as they walked back to the house. -Why didn't it charge? It could've killed us with a single blow!
For days they worked on weaponry, practiced target shooting, sword wielding, and John was getting better at it every day. Meanwhile Greg couldn't take his mind off the object he saw on the bear's neck. He has to go back and find out what it is, even if he gets killed. It resembled something he saw before! Why did the bear back down, puzzled him? Got his bow, sward and headed to the woods. Though he tried to keep his leave secret the young lad followed from a distance, like a hunter.
Greg entered the thick of the forest with racing heart, with his bow at ready, listening intensely in all directions. The light was scarcer the deeper he walked. The bush rattled close by and he turned to shoot.
The bear was sitting there quietly, with his paws dangling and chest exposed showing off the brilliant object on his neck. It's head turned away, like it didn't want to see when the death blow came from the arrow. Greg couldn't shoot. With bow drown he stepped closer and closer, so he could take a look at the object. The beast didn't move a muscle, and from a step away he saw that it's a chain with a blue pendant. His heart missed a beat from the shock of the site. The object is the pendant he gifted his son as wedding present.
The bear turned his head, and Greg saw his sons teary brown eyes staring back at him. Greg stepped back with a gasp and dropped the bow, while the beast gently placed his heavy head at the hunter's feet.
-What did just happen? -Would this bear be my son? -he wondered.
He fell on his knees from the weight of emotions, then laid motionless in embrace with the beast.
The bear slowly rose and walked away, signaling Greg to follow. They walked for hours ever deeper into the forest. At sunset they reached a clearing, and then the wide tranches of a castle, filled with murky water. Crows dominated it's eyrie towers, their calls echoed in the night, and no light was coming from any of it's windows. The bear stopped and let Greg take in the sight, and then gently pushed the hunter back into the forest. He understood he is to wait and camp out until morning.
Enormous oak trees populated this area of the forest, their branches almost touching the ground. Greg picked one close to the trail, and laid down to wait for the morning. A constant murmur surrounded him, like people talking and whispering in the darkness, but he couldn't make out the words. The oak trees rustled their leaves when there was no wind. He wasn't at all faint of heart, but this is disturbing even at day time, let alone at night!
Greg woke up to crackling of dry twigs nearby.
-Who is that!- he shouted and grabbed his sward.
-Sir...it's me, John! -came a faint voice from the darkness.
-Who!? What are you doing here? Go back home, this is my business! -he said whispering.
-No sir. I want to help, besides I can't find my way back anyway.
John confessed, he followed them all the way. He saw the scene with the bear, and reassured Greg he is going to be with him where ever this battle takes him.
At daybreak the bear returned. They saw it walking across the bridge of the castle, alongside with a beautiful woman. She has long, silvery white hair, down to her knees. Some strands are braded around her head and forehead like a crown. Her dress modest and white down to her ankles, and on her arm she carries a hand basket used for berry picking.
The hunters showed themselves on the trail, and Greg realized the woman is his son's bride. At last there is somebody he could talk to about the mystery of their history, but not so, the young woman couldn't utter a single word. From gestures, signs and drawings in the dust Greg could make out the following:
One day while hunting, the witch of the forest fell in love with Greg's young son Thomas. When he refused to love her, and was going to marry Gale, a beauty from the village, in her anger she turned him into a bear, muted his bride and made them serve her in this castle for life. Their love never withered and took the challenge just to be together, and perhaps one day be able to brake the spell. The witch has a staff with a crocodile head she never lets out of sight. The head opens it's mouth and the eyes glow when she utters her spells. No being can oppose her without punishment. The forest's oak trees are the people that ones entered and never left.
Under the vail of night he snuck onto the grounds of the castle. The deafening call of crows revealed the intruder. At the foot of the tallest tower he opened a heavy door, and entered a cold, dark room with tall columns. Only a single torch in a corner, with a faint flame lit the place. He pressed on with determination to finally meet and defeat the cruel witch. The figure of a woman in a long gown appeared from behind a column just steps ahead holding her staff. Greg was struck by her unexpected beauty.
-Ah...if it's not Greg, the hunter! What brings you into my modest abode? -she said calm and measured, the walls echoed her voice.
-It is, and I came to free my son! -he said with a firm voice.
-Really? And how are you going to do that? You fool! Don't you know who you're talking to? -she shrieked in anger. The sound alerted and scattered the crows outside and the massive door slammed shut with a thunder.
The hunter drew his bow as hard as he could and took aim at the croc's head.
-Go ahead...shoot! I'm not in a hurry! -she said calmly.
The hunter delayed the shot in hope for a fitting moment, but for minutes nothing happened. His arms fatigued, started to shake uncontrollably. The stalemate lasted way too long, and in an instant, he decided to release the arrow aimed at her heart instead. The arrow stopped inches from the witch's chest and harmlessly fell to her feet.
-Is this all you can do? Ha, ha, ha...it's my turn now! -she pointed her staff and began her chant. The croc's mouth opened and eyes glowed.
An invisible force kept his legs from moving and his feet began to root into the ground. He still had time to load another arrow and without hesitation took a shot at the crocodile's mouth. He missed! The process continued, his body transformed into a tree trunk, his arms into branches. A trickle of sap on the bark is the tears he shed for inability to see his son's salvation.
Then a familiar sound caught his attention. An arrow zipped by his trunk destined for the crocodile head on the witch's staff. A deafening cry shook the whole castle, slowly the witch turned into a stone statue, together with her staff, croc head and arrow lodged in it's throat.
The spell was finally broken! The novice hunter saved the day with flying colors. John and Greg opened the big wooden door of the tower for the crowd. Loud cheering shook the walls of the castle. The forest became a lot smaller and homecoming was sweet for many.
Since then the pub is always full for drinking, celebrations and weddings. The hunter's sad days ended. He gained not only his son back with his beautiful bride, but another son, who followed him loyally everywhere on his crusade.
Noteworthy Notes 