Before dawn could start streaking the sky shades of yellow and pink, Hugo had climbed into bed and sworn he wasn’t leaving it until lunch.
Except someone was trying to drag him out of bed much sooner.
The knocking stopped at last, but it changed into someone shaking his shoulder.
“Hugo,” Augustine hissed. “Hugo, you’ve gotta get up.”
“Why?” he demanded in a half whine, half moan.
“There’s someone at the door.”
Hugo made an indecipherable grunt and turned into his pillows. He pulled his blankets up over his head, hoping that his youngest brother would take the hint.
“Okay, I guess I’ll go tell Mother that the Royal Huntsman is at the door?—”
The blankets flew off Hugo, and he bolted upright. “What?” he barked.
“The Royal Huntsman is at the door,” Augustine repeated, his grin growing. “Why do I feel like there are some important bits left out of your story regarding your disappearance?”
“Not now,” Hugo growled. He shoved his feet into a pair of worn slippers and snatched his robe. It wasn’t the best way to greet anyone from the palace, but he couldn’t afford to keep the man waiting another second. After a last warning look at Augustine—which did absolutely nothing to rein in his brother’s enthusiasm—Hugo raced down the stairs while mentally muttering a prayer for his mother to be still abed at this early hour.
Just as his brother had stated, he found a robust man with a bushy red beard streaked with white and wearing a deerstalker cap standing on their doorstep. Slung across his back was a rifle, and several other men and about ten hounds were gathered behind him on the lane leading to their house.
“Sorry to wake the household,” the man greeted. “You’re Mr. Hugo Baker?”
“Yes, and you are…”
“Colby Waverly, Master Huntsman for the royal family.”
Hugo gulped. Augustine was right. The Royal Huntsman was on their doorstep, and he’d brought with him an entire hunting party. It was too early for his fatigued brain to deal with this.
“How can I help you, Mr. Waverly?”
“When His Highness returned to the palace late last night, he came straight away to see me. He left the order that I bring a hunting party to your home by dawn and not leave until we’ve taken care of the fox who’s been raiding your chickens. I just wanted to stop by before we entered the woods near your home to inform you we’re on the job. Don’t worry. We’ll get that fox and check the woods to make sure there’s nothing else in the area to terrorize your barnyard.”
“Oh, I…that’s terribly nice of you, but you don’t need to go to so much trouble,” Hugo stammered.
“It’s no trouble at all. We’re more than happy to help the man who saved our prince’s life and rescued him from those villains,” Colby stated with a wide grin. His weathered face cracked with dozens of lines streaking from the corners of his eyes and around his mouth as he smiled.
Heat rushed to Hugo’s cheeks to hear Colby say such things, but it was the little squeak that came from Augustine behind him that made his stomach sink.
“That. Yes. Um…I didn’t do all that much. His Highness is being far too generous.”
Colby snatched his hat off his head and held it. “It’s not only His Highness. I spoke with several of the guards after the prince returned. They spoke of how you expertly handled Demon in your escape while the prince was shooting those fiends with your rifle. They said it was spectacular.”
“Demon?” Hugo repeated, his voice squeezed tight.
“Aye,” Colby said, his accent thickening in his excitement. “Demon is His Highness’s horse. Broke him personally. That horse is fiercely loyal to the prince and stubborn. Won’t let anyone ride him, let alone control.”
“Oh dear,” Hugo mumbled, but Colby didn’t seem to hear him.
“It’d be a real honor if you’d let me shake your hand.”
“Of course! Yes!” Hugo stuck out his hand, and Colby grasped it with both of his, pumping it several times in his excitement. His palm and fingers were rough from years of hard work and exposure to the elements, but Hugo could only smile at the man’s enthusiasm.
“We’re all protective of Prince Everand. He’s a good man. Doesn’t put on airs like so many of those nobles. He understands how much work goes into organizing a good hunt. He makes sure to thank my men and me individually after each one. Sneaks down to give treats and head pats to all the hounds as well.”
Hugo’s heart fluttered at the image of Everand sneaking to the Huntsman’s quarters to visit all the dogs. He could easily believe all that. “Yes, he’s a very good man.”
