The day’s campsite was a hive, humming with movement and sound as people zigzagged between tents and colorful banners of noble households. The air was abuzz with excitement and something more vicious. The mood of the party seemed to be particularly savage, as if each man was all the more determined to prove his brute strength and might in the wake of the recent troubles at the castle. I overheard more than one overzealous lord bragging about his spectacular kills, usually in the face of mortal danger.
Women were not allowed to hunt. It was a rule that would be abhorred in Vantillios, where males and females were seenas equals in all aspects of life. The females here didn’t seem to mind the imbalance, or, if they did, they certainly didn’t speak up about it.
This morning, a party of ladies had made the journey to the forest to see the men off and then optimistically wait for their victorious return. They would pass the time by eating, drinking and socializing inside the lavish wool and leather tents or around the enormous fire that stood blazing at the center of the campsite. I had requested to join the spectators today, under the guise that I’d never witnessed a hunt before and was curious to experience the festivities firsthand.
Ingrid had thought nothing of it. If anything, she seemed pleased that I was immersing myself in the customs of Solvardunn.
Captain Hansen, on the other hand, regarded me with obvious suspicion and loathing. He, too, was present at the hunt, standing on alert with Filip and other members of the Royal Guard. They would be joining the hunting party to provide protection and assistance to the nobles.
I knew Hansen was still livid about the king’s orders to stand down and release me; he thought he had me in his clutches, and I’d somehow outmaneuvered him. I felt his hawk eyes assessing me, waiting for me to put a step out of line so he could strike. I would have to watch my back around him, especially today.
I gently bounced on the balls of my feet, partly because my jitters wouldn’t allow me to be still, and partly because the movement offered my body some semblance of warmth. I was wearing a new, ink blue cloak, but even its fur lining was not enough to thaw the frost I was certain had settled on my bones.
The huntsmen were all clad in heavy leather hunting attire and thick coats. Was the thrill of the hunt really worth dragging themselves out of bed at such an obscene hour into this bitter cold?
The brassy blaring of trumpets startled me.
A hush fell over the campsite at the call for attention. The king, dressed in practical brown hunting leathers and a feathered cap, appeared in front of the assembled crowd. It was surprising to see him here after what happened to Hugo. Surely, he could have skipped this year’s hunt, or cancelled it altogether? But I supposed it would serve as the perfect distraction if this sort of thing tickled your gills.
“Welcome, friends, to Solvardunn’s annual Autumn Hunt—a tradition steeped in history dating back to the days of my ancestor, Wolfgang the Wild.” He sounded completely at ease as he launched into his speech, but the shadows under his eyes and the days old stubble on his face told a different story. “The event signifies the tenacity and strength of our kingdom and its people. Tonight, the prize catch will be offered as a sacrifice to Ceda for her ongoing favor and blessing of our lands. The hunter who achieves it will be awarded a trophy of the beast’s tusks along with the prestige of being this year’s Grand Hunter.” The crowd responded with exuberant whoops and cheers, earning a chuckle from the king. “Without further ado, let the hunt begin,” he thundered, matching the energy of his impassioned audience.
Lord Helvig the Spider appeared at the king’s side. “Gentlemen, have your weapons and hounds at the ready,” he called out.
It took another few minutes, but, once all the huntsmen were saddled and armed, the sound of a horn blasted through the airwaves.
It was a signal of chaos.
Roaring men charged into the forest, trailing their eager hounds. Equally frenzied, the spectators cheered on the fanatical hunting party.
I watched with a frown. Wasn’t the purpose of a hunt to move quietly, to stalk without being seen? Surely all this ruckus would only frighten the animals away.
No one else seemed to be concerned, as the noise didn’t dissipate until the stampede had disappeared into the trees and all that remained was the distant echo of hooves and the occasional bark.
The crowd broke away and ladies took their seats. Servants circulated with trays of appetizers, caskets of wine and hot tea. Still shivering, I glanced at the fire with envy. I would have liked nothing more than to bundle myself in one of the snug furs and sit around the fire sipping a piping hot cup of tea. But that wasn’t what the day had in store for me.
Knowing there was no time to waste, I scanned the campsite. No sign of Hansen. Now was the time to act. The other ladies were so engrossed in conversations amongst themselves that no one would notice if I slipped away.
I made my way towards the thicket of trees. I had taken all of four steps when—
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you. Someone might mistake you for a wild boar.”
I winced at the unmistakable sound of Oriane. Shutting my eyes and sending a silent prayer to the goddesses to be merciful, I turned to face her.
“Lady Oriane. I’ve read that this forest is home to the most astounding native birds. I was on my way to see if I might spot them, now that the commotion has died down,” I said.
Her eyes narrowed. “Fascinating,” she drawled.
“Well, goodbye.”
I made to turn away, but she called out, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to find you sneaking around, seeing as how you weaseled your way out of the attack on His Highness.” I stopped in my tracks. She took a step towards me and lowered her voice. “But that’s what happens when you take in a low-born stray. They’ll always turn around and bite you eventually.”
At her words, my body went rigid. “His Majesty has clearedme of any wrongdoing.”
“An error in judgment that will soon be rectified, I’m sure.” Her voice was acidic as she continued, “His Majesty does not yet see what I see. What we all see—a vagrant mutt.”
I kept my voice pleasant as I replied. “It’s a good thing the royal family has such a fondness for dogs. More so than they care for snakes, it would seem.” I offered her a tart smile.
Her lovely face twisted into a hateful glare. I’d struck a nerve—and oh, it was satisfying. “If that’s all, I’ll be getting on.” I spun on my heels and headed into the trees.
