The Great Pursuit Page 8

  He shook his head. “It’s all right.”

  “Don’t be silly. We’ll share this one. I’ll not object to extra body heat, if it’s all the same to you.” She unfolded and tossed the blanket over the both of them, and they lay back. Harrison propped his forearm behind his head.

  “I’m not sure your betrothed would approve of this arrangement.”

  A bark of laughter issued from the princess. “I don’t quite care for his approval.”

  Harrison was quiet. Aerity wouldn’t tell him of Lord Alvi’s affairs. She was certain Harrison already didn’t care for the man. Aerity lifted the blanket to her chin, her eyelids feeling heavy.

  “Would you truly have married me if you’d killed the beast?” she whispered.

  “If you had wanted me to, of course.”

  She smiled to herself. “Even though you only love me as a friend?”

  “Aye. I would have done whatever you needed of me.”

  “And what of you? Don’t you want to find love someday?

  He paused so long Aerity though he might’ve fallen asleep. She looked over at his wide eyes, staring at the night sky.

  “Perhaps not everyone is meant to be with the one they love,” he said.

  Aerity turned and propped up on her elbow to face him. “Do you love someone, Harrison?”

  “All my life,” he said wistfully. “As long as I can remember.”

  This shocked her to the core. She gave him a playful shove and demanded, “Who?”

  “No one who loves me back.”

  “Tell me!” She pushed him again, and he sat up, laughing. “Is it someone I know?”

  Harrison took her by the shoulders and pressed her down, pulling the blanket up over her face until she laughed and flung it down. Then he kissed her forehead and lay back beside her. “Never you mind. It was doomed from the start. Go to sleep, rebel princess.”

  “Will you truly not tell me?”

  “Truly.”

  He was maddeningly private and always had been. Aerity was dying to know what secrets were held in that chambered heart of his, but she knew he would tell her nothing.

  “Harrison . . . is your love a man or a woman?”

  Harrison blinked up at the sky, his face filling with mirth. “I think I’ll not answer that.”

  Worry struck her. “Have I offended you?”

  “Nay. It’s fun to keep you guessing.”

  She nuzzled her cold nose against the fabric at his shoulder. “Fine. I shall leave you alone. But your secrets would be safe with me if ever you decide to let them out. It can’t be healthy to keep things trapped within.”

  “You’re probably right, but it would change nothing to speak of it. Now, worry not, and get some rest.”

  She rolled toward him and took his arm in a hug, soaking in his warmth until she drifted to sleep.

  By the fifth day of travel, Aerity began to experience a deep sense of pride that she’d never felt before—the pride of accomplishment. Out here, she had no maid to help her dress or bring her tea or warm her a bath. And she didn’t miss those comforts as much as she thought she might, though her scalp itched and her skin longed for the tropical oils she used daily for moisture. Caring for herself made her feel stronger. Capable. She wondered what Paxton would think of this version of her. The version with her hair wound into a bun, hands red from scrubbing stockings in a stream, eating stale bread and hardened cheese, and still smiling.

  Her primary concerns were a sore bottom and aching legs. She did her best to stretch the muscles each time they stopped, reminding herself that this pain was temporary.

  When they reached the River Kalor, Aerity immediately became nervous. It was deeper and rougher than the shallow part of the Eurona River they’d crossed.

  “Are you certain the horses can make it?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I’ve brought us to the narrowest part. You’ll need to hold on tight and trust your horse. Follow me. We’ll rest on the other side.”

  Aerity lifted what she could of her belongings and raised them from the horse’s side to its back, then hiked up her dress to her hips. By the time they got to the middle of the river, she could sense her horse pushing hard to battle the current and stay straight on course behind Harrison.

  Harrison peered out at the river and yelled something she couldn’t quite make out. She looked as well and saw darkness moving in the water. Within seconds something slid against her leg and Aerity screamed. She let go of the reins, and her horse gave a buck of fear. Aerity splashed into the water, going completely under. She came up sputtering to the sound of Harrison yelling, “Swim!”

  She got her bearings and tread water as the school of widemouth fish finished swimming past. For sea’s sake! She’d been frightened by fish! Thankfully her horse had calmed and was moving quickly now. She felt her hair against her neck and realized it had come out of the bun. When she looked at the water by her shoulder she could see dye spreading and disappearing.

  “My hair!” She tried her best to grasp it and pile it atop her head as her feet kicked and she swam toward the shore.

  Harrison was atop his horse on the bank, laughing at her as she trudged out, panting, still holding her wet locks. She let her hair fall to the side and gave it a gentle squeeze, whimpering when she saw more dye spill to the ground.

  “My hair,” she said again.

  “Really, princess, since when are you so vain and frightened by water?”

  “It’s the dye,” she told him. “Has it all been washed away?”

  His laughter stopped. “Nay, it is still brown.”

  Aerity worked to dry it, trying to handle it as little as possible. It looked dark from what she could see, but hair always looked darker when wet.

  “Harrison, you must swear to me you will tell me if the color lightens. I have more dye, but I have to use it sparingly. You have to make a habit of keeping an eye on my silly hair since I have no looking glass. I cannot afford to be recognized.”

  “I swear it, Aerity.”

  His solemn eyes were sincere, and she started to relax.

  Her horse drank from the edge of the river while Aerity changed. She approached the animal and scratched his jawline.

  “I’m sorry I startled you in the water,” she told him.

  He turned and nuzzled her neck, making her laugh. Then, as had become his habit, he reached around and pressed his nose to her chest, snorting.

  “No! Those aren’t apples, you silly thing.” She pushed his head gently away and stood, patting his neck. Even her fear of horses had slightly diminished. But only slightly.

  “Are you hiding your treats from him again?” Harrison asked from his place by the fire. Aerity walked past him and swatted his head with her damp stockings. He merely chuckled and continued to roast a wild rabbit that he’d caught.

  “I’ve never seen you with hair on your face,” Aerity mused.

  Harrison brought a hand up and ran it down the stubble there. “Aye. Do I look dapper?”

  “Nay, you look like a rogue version of yourself. But I rather like it. I think your secret love would, as well.”

  He gave a grunt, and Aerity bit back a smile.

  Through the woods, Aerity heard a group passing in a horse-drawn cart. Harrison stood, managing to appear menacing.

  “Stand near your horse, Aerity. Be ready to mount, if needed.”

  The traveling party seemed to slow when they caught sight of Aerity and Harrison’s camp. The princess quickly tied her pack to the side of her saddle and tried not to appear as panicked as she felt. They’d seen few travelers since they’d been in the woods, and all had made her anxious.

  Harrison whispered, “Looks like a Lochlan-style cart and workhorse.”

  As they neared, Harrison raised a hand in friendly greeting and the unsmiling man at the reins slowly raised a hand in response. Aerity’s heart pounded as the two men in the seat and a man in the back of the cart stared until they passed from sight.

&nb
sp; “How much longer until we reach Kalor?” Aerity asked.

  “Two or three days, perhaps. We’re making good time since we’re keeping near the path and riding so long each day. But we’d be making even better time if you’d agree to allow your horse to go faster than a walk.”

  He gave her a wink, and Aerity glared. “It’s better for their stamina if we don’t push them too hard.”

  “I am at your mercy.” He tore a piece of meat from the rabbit and held it out to her. Aerity hesitated before taking it, trying her best not to imagine the adorable animal hopping without a care just an hour ago. She was thankful for the energy it would bring. She was also thankful that the weather was at least ten degrees warmer than in southern Lochlanach.

  After they’d eaten and packed, they mounted their horses and set forth again. Aerity let herself fall into her usual daydream of what it would be like to see Pax. In her musings he was sometimes tentative when he saw her, worried, and then he would soften. Other times she imagined he’d run to her straightaway. Always his reaction ended in happiness. Oh, how she longed for that.

  She was in the middle of a particularly honeyed daydream when Harrison suddenly slowed and whispered, “Aer . . .” Her entire body immediately went on alert, tensing, as she stared ahead to where he looked. Deep in the trees to the left of the path was the horse and cart they’d seen earlier, but the three men were nowhere in sight.

  It could be nothing. They could have stopped to eat and rest, but where were they? It felt strange.

  Turning his head slightly toward Aerity, Harrison whispered, “Follow my lead, and hold on tight to your reins. We’ll get as close as is safe, and then we’re going to gallop into the trees on the right to bypass their camp.”

  Aerity braced. Gallop. What if she fell? What if her horse spooked and threw her off? Harrison must have sensed her fears.

  “Squeeze with your legs and lean forward. Your horse will follow the lead of mine, but you must keep control of him. You can do this. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She swallowed.

  Her stomach was in a tight knot as she searched the trees for the men. She began looking around her, expecting someone to jump out at any moment, or an arrow to fly at them. They could be bandits or angry Lashed.

  “Now.” Harrison heeled his horse hard in the sides and leaned forward, turning them from the path. He took off in a flash, straight into the trees. Aerity followed his form, her heart in her throat as she felt the world go topsy-turvy beneath her. She bit back a scream and held on tight, squeezing her thighs around the creature and leaning forward to help it gain momentum. She watched Harrison and his horse, leading hers right and left to dart around trees, too focused to take notice of their surroundings . . . until an arrow whirred past, just ahead of Harrison, and male shouts abounded from the direction of the path.

  “Faster!” Harrison yelled. He hunkered further and shot forward. Aerity gritted her teeth and kicked, spurring her horse with a shout.

  They ran and ran for what felt like ages before Harrison peered over his shoulder and finally slowed his steed.

  “What do they want?” Aerity asked. She was breathing hard.

  “Thieves, most likely. Or outlaws. We’ve got to keep at a quick clip to stay ahead of them. Their single horse won’t be able to keep up, especially pulling three men in a cart.”

  Onward they went at a quick trot, staying off the path and winding through trees and brush. Aerity suddenly broke out in a cold sweat and sucked in air raggedly. Her chest felt constricted, like her heart was failing. Harrison glanced back at the sounds and quickly spun his horse around until they were sidled close together.

  He cupped her face on both sides and held her with strong hands, forcing her eyes to focus on him. “Breath, Aer. Big breaths. That’s a girl.” His thumbs stroked her cheeks. “You’re in a panic, and well you should be. But it’s all right now. We’re safe. You were amazing.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt her heart righting itself, her breathing regulating.

  “You did it,” he said. “You put Vixie’s riding to shame.”

  Aerity laughed at the ridiculousness of that idea and took Harrison’s wrists. “I think not. But thank you. I’m sorry—let’s not stop any longer.”

  He gave a nod and pulled his horse forward again, cantering off. Aerity took one long look behind her into the vacant trees and then pushed onward. A newfound confidence filled her from head to toe. With each muscle that moved within the horse, her own body responded, moving with him in sync. She found that she could anticipate the animal’s forward-and-back movement and wave of motion in its hips. It felt more natural to her now. Instinctive. She ran a hand down her horse’s mane as far as she could reach and gave him a strong pat.

  “Good boy. Good, handsome boy.”

  His head bobbed, as if responding to her compliment, and for the first time ever she realized she’d bonded with a horse. Did he actually like her?

  “Harrison,” she called out, “what’s this horse’s name?”

  “Not sure,” he said over his shoulder. “He’s new to the guesthouse.”

  Aerity patted him again. “I shall call you Jude.”

  Chapter

  10

  After five days, Tiern still felt absolutely out of place as a guest in the castle. He’d stayed there once before in High Hall, with the other hunters during the flooding rains, but to have his own room in the guest wing felt . . . strange. His quarters were nearly as large as his family’s entire house. He would have been more comfortable in a spare room in the soldiers’ barracks where he didn’t have to worry about manners and niceties.

  Truth be told, he wasn’t feeling like his old, carefree self these days. The past months had opened his eyes and made him into a man, putting burdens and knowledge on his back that weighed down his smile. Between the great hunt and his brother leaving after saving Tiern’s life with his magic, a heaviness had settled about him. Add to that the things he’d witnessed in the towns of Lochlanach during his travels . . . those visions had rid him of the last vestiges of innocence in his heart.

  Each day he’d been invited to dine with the royal family and Lord Alvi, and though he knew they saw his presence as a necessary precaution—a hunter on hand in case another beast invaded—he could not settle in and relax. The royals were too preoccupied to notice things that plagued him, like the way Lord Alvi sometimes watched him as if he didn’t trust him. Or the fact that he couldn’t hold his fork and knife in a proper way to cut his food and gently push pieces onto the edge of his fork to bring them to his mouth. He always dropped something, but the only person who noticed was Vixie. She was there with a smile and giggle every time.

  Princess Vixie was the happiest, friendliest lass he’d ever met. His mood had been so dark since Lord Alvi killed the beast and Paxton left. The only time Tiern felt a fraction of himself was in Vixie’s presence. Her ability to lift his spirits was addicting. But ever since he’d learned he was of Lashed blood, and seen how the people of the land were reacting to Lashed Ones, his romantic ideals for the future had taken a dive into the depths of the seas.

  The things he’d seen on his journey to the royal lands and in his own town, barely being held together by a few peacekeepers forcing the hotheads not to act in violence, had disgusted and saddened him to his core. He’d been prepared to help their local Lashed man if the townspeople had attacked, but thankfully it hadn’t come to that.

  Towns were not faring well, and he shivered to remember. Burned homes and funeral processions. Eyes full of distress and mouths spewing malice. Normal people being worked up into mobs by hysterical leaders.

  In one town he’d passed a man hanging from a tree by his neck with a sign that said Lashed Not Welcome Here. That could have been his brother, the best man that he knew. The sight nearly made him sick. Tiern had taken one look at the man’s unlined nails before sprinting down the path in a cold sweat to put distance between himself and those people.
The man’s blank eyes haunted him. Had he been one of their registered Lashed who followed the law and never did magic? Or a sympathizer? Or merely a family member of a Lashed, like himself?

  An irrational fear had risen inside him after that: Could people simply look at him and know he had Lashed blood, though he didn’t display magical abilities? Had people found out about Paxton and spread the word about the Seabolts? Was his family in danger?

  Nay. He knew none of that was the case, but still his mind was cautious.

  At breakfast on his fifth morning, a messenger entered and handed King Charles a parchment. The entire table stopped eating and stared, even the children, waiting to see how he’d react. Some mornings he simply read the note with a stoic face and excused himself. Other mornings he would shut his eyes or bang a fist on the table. Yesterday he flipped his plate of eggs and sausages over before barreling out of the room with his lords and the queen on his heels.

  “What’s it say, Papa?” Prince Donubhan asked, just as he had every morning. And once again the king ignored the eager boy, lost in his own thoughts.

  As they waited, Vixie sent Tiern a nervous glance from across the table. But the king simply stood without opening the parchment, and left them. The lords, ladies, and queen shared heavyhearted glances before they got up and followed, accompanied by Lord Alvi.

  Lady Wyneth didn’t get up, and Vixie nudged her, whispering, “Go find out what’s going on!”

  Wyneth appeared hesitant. “It’s not good, Vix. It’s never good.”

  “Will you tell me what’s happening? They won’t let me in.”

  Tiern followed Wyneth’s eyes to where maids descended upon the royal children at the other end of the table, helping them focus on cleaning their hands and faces.

  Wyneth looked toward Tiern and Vixie, then lowered her voice. “Each day a commoner in different towns throughout Lochlanach has turned up dead. In Rozaria’s original notice she said people would be killed by new beasts. But these deaths have all been done at the hands of unknown Lashed. No blood or injury to be seen. All young men and women.”