He had his waterskin, and he’d drink from that. He could also refill it himself since poisoning the water barrels the servants had brought would make everyone sick. Gautier wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill half of the hunting party and possibly his ticket to being a lord again: Zacharie.
He paused Mighty who shifted uneasily and wondered if he was being too careful. Maybe he should join the main group and try to have a little fun. It would be hard to kill him around others. Stray arrows and such could be written off as an accident, but it’d also be hard to “accidentally” and fatally shoot the lord’s son with an arrow. It would require instant death since the physician had come along. Aleric didn’t trust Olivier one bit since he’d have access to poisons and the knowledge of how to use them, but if anyone was physically injured, it didn’t matter if he was on Gautier’s side. He’d have no choice but to use his healing magic on them.
No, Aleric would return and play it safe. If he told Father he wasn’t feeling well, he’d fuss and offer for him to head back with a guard, which Aleric would reject. He was just well enough to return with the group as a whole, but not well enough to chase bunnies around. Now that the few guards he trusted were retired, he didn’t want to be alone with any of the others.
Quite a few were likely trustworthy. That was the problem.Likely.Gautier had friends, and it was impossible to know whohe’d spoken to or who he’d gotten on his side. He’d had years to work his way into the good graces of many, and Aleric wasn’t about to travel for hours with a few who’d been potentially paid off. He’d only trusted the retired ones to a degree because they’d been there for so long and were the sort of men who’d probably have a stroke at the idea of betraying Lord Monet.
He hadn’t gotten far when Mighty started acting off and tossing her head. A few gentle words didn’t help, and when he stopped her, she let out a loud whinny and backed up a step.
“What’s wrong?”
He didn’t see a snake or anything else that would scare her. Mighty was quite a good girl with her placid disposition, and she liked to run. Chasing bunnies was a game to her. While she wasn’t a warhorse, she didn’t easily spook.
Besides a light sweat from the heat of the day, she seemed fine except for her uneasiness. After a good look around, he still couldn’t see anything frightening to a horse. He spotted a bright purple and yellow theybug crawling on a fallen leaf. Bugs never scared her.
“What’s wrong, girl? Do you want to go back too?”
At camp, he’d get her settled before heading to the tent to rest, although he’d keep his ears and eyes open. Gautier certainly wouldn’t go back to look for him and try to murder him with a bunch of servants around. After a few hours of nothing to do, she’d likely be fine when they returned home.
“Come on, girl.” Aleric tried to nudge her into a walk again. Perhaps she was picking up on his nerves.
Mighty suddenly bucked, and he tightened his legs as he clung on. His teeth clacked together when her back legs hit the ground, and she danced sideways.
“Whoa-settle down, girl.”
Mighty huffed. He slid down and stayed to the side with a hold of her bridle in case she decided to rear or make a run for it. Her eyes were wide, and she tossed her head.
“What has gotten into you?”
He had the sudden thought that something might have been given to her to cause panic. If he lost control of his horse in the woods and was thrown…oops. Then again, he might survive. Still, why not try?
“We’ll walk back together, girl.” He gently pulled on her bridle to guide her around, and her sides heaved as she appeared to ease a little. Leading her back would likely be easier than riding her. “I’ll take care of you myself and let you have a good roll in the grass.”
Hopefully, whatever it was would wear off. What if she was truly ill from a poison and died? It’d be his fault because he was the target, and she was only the pawn in certain people’s eyes.
“We’ll both rest.” He kept his voice light and soothing. Letting his agitation come through wouldn’t help her.
If she had been poisoned, that meant the stableboy had been paid off. What was his name? Andy? Aleric was pretty sure he’d heard one of the stablemen call him Andy. The little fucking shit. If anything was wrong with Mighty, and he’d done it, Aleric would wring his neck.
He paused for a moment, noticing something. He couldn’t hear anyone else nearby, and a few birds not too far had been chirping. The sudden silence was unnerving with only him and the horse there. It shouldn’t be that quiet, and he looked around.
Something moved to his right. Far off in the trees, he caught flashes of brown. Horses. The bits of grey he caught had to be the rider’s clothing. Three horses were approaching from roughly the same direction of the camp. He couldn’t make out much with the distance, and too many bushes and branches were obscuring them.
The courtiers always dressed in clothes appropriate for riding and rough activity when they went hunting, but they were still nicer and often bright in color. None had been wearing dark grey. When he got a glimpse of what he was sure was a man’s head, it was all grey with a dark spot where the face would be.
His hood was up. Lord Gautier knew Aleric liked to go off on his own. He might not have planned on him returning to camp so fast, and a lone man can become the hunted.
Paid-off mercenaries can also easily alter their plan a little, and they’d snuck by everyone else, skirted camp, and started searching. Aleric stuck out like a sore thumb with his stark white hair and the sleeves of his shirt acting as a flag.
He’d been fucked either way.
Without a second thought, he mounted Mighty. If he could get past them and back to the camp, they might not follow and attempt anything because the servants would be witnesses, and the last thing a man wants before murder is several pairs of eyes on him.
He’d barely settled in the saddle before Mighty reared with a whinny. A few riders far off shouldn’t have been enough to terrify her so much, and more than ever, he thought she’d been poisoned. As soon as her front hooves hit the ground, she took off and veered in the wrong direction despite him struggling to get her to go another way.
A whistle came from behind him. One had signaled the other two.
If he couldn’t return to camp, he could try to find one of the groups. They wouldn’t risk being seen, right? Aleric was a good fighter, but not against three men on a horse he couldn’t control, and he couldn’t pretend his archery skill was enough to save him. Hunting rabbits and fighting to live aren’t the same thing. If he got down to use his bow and have better aim, he’d be an easytarget on the ground. The other three might have bows, and even if Aleric nailed one, the other two could kill him.
