OK... I wrote a hunting scene in my medieval fantasy novel, and I think it came out pretty well - so I'm hesitant to post it here, as that usually means it gets ripped apart 8-) ... but you also make good suggestions, so take a peek and see what you think...
FYI, the Prince is named Milo... and this whole scene is him... the beaters have just poked the brush where the boar is and flushed it out... Milo has mind powers, and senses the beast's location before they see it...
“WARE!” He shouted, but it was too late.
For Milo, everything seemed to slow to a halt. The light was brighter, colors more vivid, the smells of damp dog, sweaty men, musky boar, the comforting grass/leather/sweat of his horse, were more distinct. For a heartbeat it was all locked and still… then it burst into action with a roar of sound.
Maddened by the noise and confusion, and disturbed by this final insult, a huge wild boar burst from the underbrush, swinging his treacherous tusks. By luck it was too close to gore the beater, but sliced his arm as it knocked him roughly to the ground.
The nobles coming up behind the King’s party blocked its mad dash away from the beaters. Their horses reared, and hounds suddenly broke onto the path, baying loudly and throwing themselves at the charging beast.
It turned again. Tossing its head, the enraged boar threw one dog over its shoulder, before stampeding back the way it had come. The other dogs harried it, nipping at its heels.
The young beater was getting to his feet, but appeared stunned and unaware of his danger.
Milo and his mount were already moving. The Prince held the horse’s mind, and they were perfectly attuned to each other. They raced down the path, directly at the rampaging boar.
Just as horse and beast must inevitably collide, the horse veered left onto the grassy verge, just off the trail. At the same moment, Milo grabbed the beater’s arm and jerked him up, heaving him over the boar’s back.
There was a bellow of pain as the swine’s tusks scraped the youth’s thigh, cutting it deeply. Milo dropped him, and he scrambled to climb the nearest tree, despite his wounds.
The young prince reached out as he passed one of the huntsmen, and the man’s spear leapt into his hand as Milo's horse spun around, and he urged his mount into a gallop.
Once more the King’s guards stood in front of the beast, shouting, spears at the ready. Blocked from escape, the boar turned a final time. It came charging back at him.
Yet again, a collision seemed inescapable. The Prince heard his father cry out, but his entire concentration was focused on the encounter ahead.
At the last possible instant, the mare swerved to the left, as Milo stabbed downward with the spear, piercing the boar’s eye and stabbing into its brain. Caught in the boar’s skull, the spear wrenched out of his hand, almost unseating the Prince. Grabbing hold of the horse’s mane, he pulled himself back into the saddle.
Momentum carried the fierce beast forward a few yards, as it slowed, then stopped, swayed, realized it was dead, and fell over on its side.
Around him, men broke into wild cheers. Milo flushed with pleasure as his father rode closer to clasp his arm.