This had been a mistake. The beast did not wait to see what would happen next. It charged.
Lord Alvi’s arrow was pointed before Wyneth could take a breath, but the beast wove behind a stand of trees.
“Stop!” Wyneth yelled in Kalorian as the beast burst out from behind the trees. It reared up, obeying her with reluctance, and Lord Alvi let his arrow fly. The arrowhead shallowly pricked the thick skin at the beast’s chest and fell out as the animal came back down hard on its front hooves.
Harrison and Lord Alvi jumped from their horses. Harrison, quick and agile, got to it first and dodged to the side as the beast snapped its reptilian teeth, just missing him. Wyneth gasped.
“No!” She searched her Kalorian vocabulary, wishing she were as adept as Aerity.
While Harrison distracted it, Lord Alvi shot anotherarrow. Wyneth was certain his arrows were flying with great strength, but the beast’s skin was extremely thick, allowing only minor flesh wounds. Lord Alvi swore.
Wyneth fumbled for her own bow and an arrow from over her shoulder, nocking the arrow and pulling the bowstring tight. The beast heaved forward and flung its long head upward, catching Lord Alvi by surprise and knocking his bow away, before turning back to Harrison, who slashed with his sword, slicing upward against a line of scales at the creature’s chest. It reared and let out a shrieking whinny of pain. Wyneth finally recalled a Kalorian phrase. “Be still!”
The monster stopped, leaning back on its haunches, but stretched its mouth wide in a growl of pain and frustration. It appeared torn between its obligation of obedience and its instinct to kill. With a yell, Wyneth released her hold on the taut bowstring and watched in shock as her arrow lodged itself in the roof of the creature’s mouth. It came down hard on its front legs, thrashing.
Lord Alvi leaped on its back to hold it down and Harrison used all his power to thrust his sword deep into the soft spot where its chest met its front leg. Wyneth saw blood and felt an uprising of pity and remorse as the beast let out a high whine, kicking out as it fell. It seemed to convulse forever before going still.
Wyneth went to her knees, shaking, and dropped her bow. All around her she saw soldiers on their feet. They’d circled close during the fight and she hadn’t noticed. The mensurrounded the monster, tying it with ropes, led by Lord Alvi.
She felt capable arms gathering her close, lifting her to her feet. “Come, Wyn,” Harrison said softly. “Take my horse.” She was in a daze as Harrison helped her mount. All she could see was blood. So much blood and death.
As he was about to send her on her way, she grasped his hand and looked into his forlorn eyes.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered.
Harrison’s entire body seemed to shiver with surprise as he stared up at her. He glanced back at the busy soldiers and called out. “I’m taking Lady Wyneth back to the castle. I will let them know the grounds are safe for now.”
Lord Alvi narrowed his eyes at Harrison from where he tied the end of the rope to his steed. Before he could say anything, the lieutenant pulled himself up behind Wyneth and pressed his heels into the horse’s sides. His free hand went around Wyneth’s waist. She was shaking uncontrollably. Her hands took his wrist and pulled his arm tighter around her. He felt so safe.
“Must they drag the creature?” Wyneth asked. “It’s shameful.”
“It is too large to carry. And it killed people, Wyn,” he reminded her.
“It’s a victim in all of this. It can’t help being made.” She recalled its suffering as they killed it—the role she had played in bringing it pain—and a sob rose up in her throat.
Harrison pulled her closer, pressing her back to his chest.She could feel his breath at her ear. “Some things cannot be reformed or redeemed, sweet Wyn. That creature . . . it could not be tamed into a pet or kept alive for pity’s sake. Ithadto be killed. It’s out of its misery now.”
She leaned her head back onto his shoulder and shut her eyes. “I won’t try to accompany you on any more hunts.” She was useless. She couldn’t even help kill a foe without feeling sorry for it.
Harrison’s voice was as steady as always. “You were brave. And I’m glad your heart is still so tender after all you’ve been through. I’m proud of you . . . and Breckon would be too.”
With those words, Wyneth allowed her tears to run freely.
Chapter
3
In order to get to the drylands where the Zandalee tribe lived, they had to pass through hotlands jungles. Paxton wasn’t a fearful man, but being in the jungle did not put him at ease—he wasn’t particularly fond of the giant bugs that insisted on taking chunks out of his skin while he slept, or the rattling of overgrown snakes that he knew were near. It did, however, help his frame of mind to be surrounded by warrior women who seemed to fear nothing and never complained.
It was early morning, and though the temperature was not necessarily hot yet, a layer of moisture permeated the air at all times, stagnant and humid. Oversized birds cawed their loud screeches in the overhanging branches as the Zandaleefed their sleek black stallions. Paxton packed the last of their things and then stood, pushing his hair off his damp forehead.
He’d lost track of time. How long had they been traveling? A week? Two? Time no longer mattered to him. Days ago he’d asked the Zandalee leader, Zandora, how they’d made it to Lochlanach so quickly for the hunt when the trip back to their home seemed to be taking so long. She’d wryly responded, “We did not have a man to haul along with us.”
Aye, he’d become accustomed to their humor and the jabs at his gender. And he thought perhaps they were taking him on the scenic route, attempting to ease his dark mood before dumping him on their tribe.
By now they must have realized his temperament was here to stay, because in the last day or so they’d picked up the pace. The jungle seemed to be thinning. Fewer roots to step over and vines to wade through amid sinking mud spots. The only ones who seemed to dislike the jungle more than Paxton were the horses.
He opted to walk today rather than share a saddle with the younger of the sisters, who wasn’t at all shy and enjoyed the nearness of a man very much. Zandora had said, “She tells us she prefers your brother, Tiern, but you’ll do in a pinch.”
