The Legend of Archibal

Walter did not want to miss this inquest at all. How often does a boy get to witness a wolf hunt? At least not Walter. He looked back at his door, listened for signs of movement out in the hall and when none came, he hurriedly slipped out the window. Both boys ran down the road towards the inn. When they got there the place was so full that some men remained standing outside the entrance, trying to catch a glimpse of all that was going on. Walter has never seen it so overcrowded before, it must be important. With Alden leading, they pushed themselves through the crowd. They were able to find a space in the corner to see the whole scenario being displayed. His Uncle caught sight of Walter from behind the bar, a place he never left and winked at him. Walter only hoped his Aunt did not catch him there. She herself rarely entered the tap room. “It was always filled with rowdy man,” she complained.

A man stood before the hordes of animated men trying to talk above them. “Here, here,” he said, in an accent that was typical of an outsider. “We’re gathered here ter deal with a certain wolf that has been stalking our fields and stealing our sheep!”

“I’ve lost half of my herd!” shouted someone from the group. “Something must be done!”

“Aye!” said the outsider. “That is why we are here. To gather the best hunters in these regions and capture that wolf. Dead rather than alive! A few brave hunters have stepped forward to deal with this problem. Let’s begin!”

The crowd roared in excitement, some raised their filled mugs in the air. The first to step forward was a tall man with a huge girth supported by a thick leather belt. He had red hair and matching mustache. “I have brought along my two sons who are swift and bold,” he said. “They have been hunting since they started walking. I have taught them everything they know. Come here boys.” Two boys with red hair stepped beside their father. Walter quickly recognized one of them as the boy who threw Alden’s compass in the Black Forest. They were as cheeky as their father, both slim and tall with a grin to match their resemblance. “This is my oldest son, George,” he said, pointing to his right. “And this is my other son, Thomas. They are the best archers in this country.”