The Great Hunt (21 page)

Princess Aerity waited none too patiently outside her father’s office with Lady Wyneth. When the door opened, she pushed her way inside, nearly knocking aside a naval commander.

“What news?” Aerity asked, rushing to his desk.

The king stood, his face as tightly drawn as ever. “One hunter was killed by the beast. The others gave chase to the north and have not returned.”

Aerity rocked back on her heels, light-headed as the blood drained from her face.

“Who?” It came out barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry, what?” the king said.

Wyneth stepped forward, paler than ever. “Uncle . . . who was killed?”

“Samuel Gullet. A Lochlan widower from Loch Nech.”

Both the girls closed their eyes. Aerity felt a rush of relief followed closely by remorse.

The door to the king’s office burst open, startling them all. An officer took off his felt hat and moved before the king.

“Your Highness, the seven remaining Zorfinans were found just after daylight at the foot of the ridgelands . . . all dead.”

Aerity gasped in horror, and Wyneth grabbed her hand. The queen closed her eyes.

“How?” King Charles demanded. “Attacked?”

His adviser shook his head, his face pinched. “It was rather strange, your majesty. Each was stabbed through the heart with a dagger. And there was a note.” He handed it to the king, who read aloud.

“We are cowards. We must die or live in shame. Change is coming.” He peered across at his adviser. “An honor killing?”

“Aye. I assume because they did not go into the hills with the other hunters.”

“But what does that mean, about change coming?”

His adviser shook his head. “We don’t know, sir. The whole thing is bizarre.”

The king gripped the note in his hand, his anger surging, and brought his fist down on his desk. The
bang
echoed through the room.

“And the others? The Lochlans and Ascomannians?” asked Aerity. Wyneth’s hand tightened around hers.

“We assume they’re still on the Torestan border, Your Highness,” answered the adviser. “There is concern for them due to bad weather in the low ridges last night.”

The king rubbed his forehead. “We must find them. Send out a search party. Leave as soon as possible.”

“Should I send word to the Torestan government, Your Majesty? To seek permission to enter their lands, if necessary?”

The king waved this off. “There’s no time to ask permission, but we’ll send news so they can be on the lookout. I’ll deal with King Cliftonia. He knows we’re fighting a creature of severe magnitude. He won’t be happy it’s on his lands, but perhaps it is time the rest of Eurona took a greater interest in what’s happening here. They are not immune to this beast. This will open their eyes. Go. Search.” His adviser nodded and left quickly.

“I want to go,” Aerity said, letting go of Wyneth’s hand to grab her skirts. Her father stepped out from behind the oak desk to face her.

“It’s half a day’s ride to the bottom of the hills, child. We don’t know how far they made it in.”

“I’m not a child, father. You above all should know that.”

At this, he took her by the arm. She was itching to leave, scared to be left behind, but she didn’t dare pull from her father’s grasp.

His face was tight. “My men will find them—”

“I need to go.”

The king cocked his head and leveled a gaze at his daughter. She answered his thoughts before he had time to ask.

“Breckon’s cousin is out there, father. And I’ve also spoken with the other Lochlan lads. I feel I’ve come to know them. I only want to show my support. . . .”

She couldn’t meet his eye, certain he would see through her words to the truth underneath—that she’d developed feelings for one of the hunters, mutual or not.

“I will accompany her, Uncle,” Wyneth promised.

“As will I,” said a voice from the doorway.

They turned to find Vixie in a lavender dress, her mane of red hair pulled back. She marched in and faced their father, making him drop Aerity’s arm. It was the first time Aerity had seen Vixie acknowledge him since the proclamation was made. Aerity turned back to her father with pleading eyes.

“I’m not comfortable with this,” he said.

The three girls stood shoulder to shoulder, Aerity speaking for them. “Father, we haven’t been off royal lands in months. We’re drowning here. The beast has never been seen in daylight and it has never attacked in daylight. We’ll ride with the entourage along Eurona River to the bottom of the hills and return before nightfall.”

“It’s the least you can offer,” Vixie said.

The king stared Vixie down, not appreciating her tone. He then turned to the queen, whose face was unreadable until she sighed.

“Charles, they’ll be surrounded by our men, and the lands are safe during the day. Nobody will hurt them.”

“It’s foolish to take chances,” he said.

The queen’s eyes flashed. “With all Aerity is willing to give, with all the maturity they’ve shown in the face of the kingdom’s troubles, Vixie is right. The least we can do is give them a bit of freedom to live.”

King Charles stared at his wife a moment longer, his jaw working. The girls waited, holding their breaths until he spoke gruffly. “So be it.” He turned to Aerity. “I will add additional riders to accompany the three of you on two conditions.”

Aerity looked up into his eyes, which were obscured with worry, like the tropical seas of the south with heavy cloud cover.

“You will not leave the lands of Lochlanach.” Aerity nodded her compliance. “And you will return before sundown, alongside your accompaniment, with or without the hunters. You ride straight there and straight back, or, so help me, you’ll be chained to this castle until marriage. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Father.” She dashed from the room before he could change his mind.

The three of them rushed down to the stables, not bothering to stop and change into riding clothes. They’d have to make do in their dresses.

“That was brilliant!” Vixie was practically glowing when they reached the stables.

Soldiers were rounding their steeds when a messenger jogged up with a message from the king. The sergeant in charge looked toward the three royal girls and nodded without complaint. “We’ll set off in ten minutes.”

“We’ll be ready,” Vixie guaranteed him. She was always her most assured self at the stables, having spent time here nearly every day since she could walk.

Vixie gave orders to the stable boys to saddle up their three. They passed a large stall with three shining black gypsy steeds, deep chested and strong. “When did we get those?” Aerity asked. “They’re gorgeous.”

“They belong to the Zandalee.”

Ah. Fitting. Aerity opened her stall door and spoke softly to her dapple gray. “Hello there, beautiful.” The horse let Aerity pet the stretch of white hair between its nose and eyes, but when it caught sight of Vixie, it raised its head and let out a light whinny of happiness.

“Hello, Doll.” Vixie gave her a scratch under the ear, and Aerity couldn’t bring herself to be jealous. She was glad Vix gave the horses personal attention, though Aerity herself only came once a month during her required lesson time. She enjoyed leisurely riding, but horses weren’t her passion. Aerity moved aside as a stable hand bustled by with Doll’s saddle and harness. Next to them Wyneth was snuggling Mosby, her bay with a tan coat and black mane and tail.

Vixie saddled Ruspin herself, rivaling the quick movements of the stable boys. Ruspin was Vixie’s fourteenth
birthday gift—a solid white horse with lovely pink skin and blue eyes. She was a gorgeous, intense beast who didn’t care much for Aerity. Vixie said it could sense Aerity’s nervousness, so the older girl kept her distance.

Once saddled, the two princesses and Wyneth mounted their horses, hiking their loose skirts up, and set off behind the soldiers, flanked by guards. Their pace was clipped. Aerity swallowed down her fear and held on tightly. She’d have sore thighs by the end of this day, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t sit around the castle waiting.

They’d been riding less than two hours between the river and trees when they saw a group of burly men in the distance.

One of the guards shouted, “Oy! Hunters!” They rode faster.

As they got closer, Aerity saw they all had light hair, and were wearing furs with their knees on display over tall, rugged boots.

“Ascomannians,” Vixie whispered.

Aerity scanned them. Definitely no Lochlans. Lord Lief Alvi moved to the forefront of the hunters and crossed his arms as the head officer dismounted.

“What say you?” asked the officer. “Any sign of the beast? The other hunters?”

Lord Alvi did not look pleased. “We lost its tracks when the weather turned. And we lost the Lochlan men.”

Aerity’s heart quickened to a gallop.

“You haven’t seen them?” the officer asked.

He shook his blond head, hair about his face. “Not since the dead of night when the storm hit.”

“Thank you. We shall ride ahead. Here are some rations for your men.” The officer took a bag from the side of his horse and handed it to Lord Alvi before mounting again.

Aerity watched Lord Alvi, waiting to catch his eye so she could acknowledge him, but his eyes stuck to Wyneth until they rode out of sight. Aerity peered across at her cousin, who was looking straight ahead with rather mottled cheeks.

High seas.
It wasn’t in her imagination. Lief had definitely found interest in her cousin, and by the looks of Wyneth’s spotted blush, she was quite aware of it. Never in her life had Aerity been one to shy away from teasing her cousin and talking about boys, or men in this case, but this did not lend itself to their usual banter. Wyneth did not look happy about Lief’s affections. And why would she be when she still wore the gray mourning color for the love she’d lost months before? And when this new man was a suitor in the hunt? The circumstances made Aerity feel like a fist was tightening around her gut. She cursed this terrible situation where her cousin couldn’t seek happiness, even as it was staring her down, quite literally. She would gladly tell the Ascomannian lord to drop out of the hunt to seek her cousin, but she knew a man of honor would not consider quitting a cause for his own desires.

Wyneth must have caught the look of anguish on Aerity’s face, because she spoke loudly against the wind and clomp of hooves, her voice breaking. “Don’t worry, Aer. We will find
them. I’m certain they’re okay. . . .”

Aerity blinked and nodded, looking straight ahead again. On her other side she could see in her peripheral Vixie’s perfect forward lean, her hair flying back, in her element. The cool fall air whipped against her cheeks, turning them pink.

Hours later, just as the path took them away from the river and the land began to slant upward, she heard the soldiers raise their voices. Aerity squinted and spotted men walking through the trees up ahead. Her heart hammered as her eyes scanned. There were three!

“It’s them!” Vixie shouted.

Aerity nudged Doll harder, picking up speed to match her pulse. She even passed two of the closest soldiers. As they got closer, Aerity’s sight honed in on the one whose brown waves sheltered the sides of his face. Paxton looked weary and worn, as did the other two. She reared back on Doll and hiked her leg over the horse’s back, sliding down to her feet so quickly she nearly fell.

The soldiers let Aerity run through them to get to the hunters. Harrison was first. He walked with a slight limp and gave a bashful grin. She threw her arms around him before remembering their audience and quickly letting him go. “Thank the seas! Are you hurt?” A smudge of mud ran across his cheekbone.

“Just my ankle.”

Aerity looked toward the medical soldier and called him
forward. If there had been time, she would have thought to ask Mrs. Rathbrook to accompany them.

As a soldier trained in healing tended to Harrison, Aerity took the hand of the next lad, Tiern. He gave a tired grin. His hair was still pulled back, as if he’d recently taken care of it. Before she could speak a word she saw Paxton walk straight past, not so much as glancing her way. Her head turned to follow as he stopped at the soldiers.

“Who killed it?” he asked in a low, dry voice. “Which Ascomannian?”

The soldiers exchanged glances and one spoke up. “The beast? Nobody yet . . .”

Aerity watched the back of Paxton’s shoulders relax. He turned slightly and caught Aerity’s eye, holding it for a flash of a moment that made Aerity’s stomach swoop, before facing the soldier again.

“All the Ascomannians and Zorfinans made it back, then?” Paxton asked.

“Oh.” The soldier’s face fell. “I’m sorry, but the Zorfinans are gone.”

“Gone?” Paxton tilted his head as if he’d heard him wrong. “They left?”

“No . . . they’re dead. Honor killing.”

Paxton stared at him incredulously and Tiern spoke up. “Honor killing? But why? Because they were ashamed of not going into the ridgelands in an ice storm? They were the bloody smart ones!”

Paxton fumed and pushed ahead through the soldiers. Wyneth frowned at Aerity.

“The beast still lives,” Tiern whispered. “We were so close.” Aerity’s head snapped back to him, then to Harrison, who gave a saddened shake of his head.