Heart of the Hunter

by Lara Adrian

Kenrick sighed at length and surrendered the dagger he gripped loosely in his hand. "You have my gratitude for offering her your sword arm and protection, but I trust you will forgive me if I say that when it comes to her future, Ariana deserves better than you."

  "Yes," Braedon said, taking no offense for he had recognized that fact himself within moments of meeting her. "I know she deserves better. And I am well aware of all that I cannot offer her. As you pointed out, my reputation precedes me."

  "You will not deny that you once worked for de Mortaine?"

  "I do not deny it. He hired me to retrieve something for him--"

  "Avosaar," Kenrick interjected. "The Stone of Prosperity. It is one of four sacred pieces of the Dragon Chalice."

  "Aye, I have heard the tales."

  Clairmont's blue eyes flashed with similar intensity as his sister's so often did. "The treasure is no myth, le Chasseur. I have been studying it for years. It is real, as real as the dark magic that surrounds it. De Mortaine understands this magic, perhaps even controls it somehow. But not entirely. He is limited in his power, so long as the Dragon Chalice remains out of his grasp."

  "And he will stop at nothing to have it," Braedon said.

  Kenrick nodded. "When I realized what I had discovered in my work for the Templar Order, I took steps to protect my findings. I knew it wasn't safe to keep it all in one place, so I divided up my work and hid part of it away from Clairmont. The satchel Ariana delivered contained only a portion of my records. A portion, but still too much power should it fall into de Mortaine's hands." He reached out and clapped his palm on Braedon's shoulder. "Thank God you tossed it into that bonfire. Better the lot of my work be destroyed than surrender any bit of it to him."

  "Indeed. Would that were the case." Braedon cleared his throat and slanted a rueful look at the younger knight. "It was a fake that went into the fire."

  "What?"

  "The satchel I burned tonight was a decoy, nothing but a sack of rubbish meant to trick de Mortaine into giving you up. It was a ruse."

  "God's blood." Kenrick's mouth quirked into the beginnings of a grin. "Then you still have it? Tell me you still have my work."

  Braedon slowly shook his head. "One of de Mortaine's men stole it from us a few nights ago outside Rouen. Draec le Nantres has your satchel. I expect 'tis only a matter of time before he gives it up to de Mortaine."

  Kenrick's low voiced oath hissed between his teeth. "They will be looking for the rest of the Chalice."

  "No doubt, they already are," Braedon replied. "They'll be looking for us, too. We won't have much time before they rout us out."

  "No," Kenrick agreed, nodding soberly. "However, there is still the matter of my sister and you. What do you want with Ariana?"

  "The truth? I am no longer certain, save that I want her out of harm's way. I want her protected from all of this madness."

  "Even if that means protecting her from yourself?"

  Braedon met the intense blue gaze of Ariana's brother and held it.

  "There is a price on your head now, le Chasseur. You crossed de Mortaine tonight. I'm sure I needn't tell you what hell that can bring."

  "Nay," Braedon said, requiring no reminders. "I have seen it firsthand."

  "Then you also know he must not be permitted to succeed in this. He already has one of the stones. If he recovers the three others, he will have the power of the Dragon Chalice and it will be too late. He has to be stopped now."

  "Not by me. And not by you, if your sister is involved in any way. Ariana's safety is what matters most to me. If you care about her, you need to get her out of here." Braedon stared hard at her brother. "Dawn is on the rise. I want to be on the road and heading for the coast in less than an hour."

  "Le Chasseur...Braedon," Kenrick said from behind him. "Silas de Mortaine is not a man like you or I. There is true evil in him...something...unnatural. I cannot walk away knowing he is out there, doing his dark work. Can you?"

  Halfway to the barn, Braedon paused. "One hour," he repeated, ignoring the implication that it was somehow his concern to thwart de Mortaine's crazed intentions. But even as he thrust aside the notion, inwardly, his conscience flared hot with contradiction. He squeezed his hands into tight fists and with a muttered curse, strode into the barn to prepare to depart.

  * * *

  They were better than half a dozen leagues on the road that day when something pricked Braedon's instincts to alert. He said nothing to indicate his apprehension, cantering his mount alongside Ariana's on the narrow track of road that followed the Seine River, more or less, toward the coast. He quieted his senses and focused on the imperceptible stir of the air around them. His nostrils flared, scenting danger on the approach.

  Death, to be sure. Riding hard, hell-bent to find them. He had but a moment to register the threat before the sound of distant, thundering hoofbeats reached his keen ears. His muttered black curse drew a worried glance from Ariana, and a ready look of expectation from her brother.

  "What is it?"

  "Riders. Several, by the sound of it, and coming up fast." He cut a look toward a ridge of dense forest several yards off the road. "Let's go--quickly. This way!"

  They turned off the empty trail and headed up the rise, where brushy-needled conifers stood evergreen and tall amongst their bare-branched neighbors. Weaving between them and into the cool cover beyond, Braedon paused to glance once more to the road. Their horses had left a climbing trail along the snowy embankment behind them. Easy evidence of the direction of their flight, but with luck and speed, they might be able to outrun their pursuers, who were still out of eyeshot but gaining fast.

  Braedon led them deep into the woods, urging them to move quickly while they still had the advantage of distance. But it wasn't long at all before the sound of gear and armor rang out behind them somewhere on the road, then the shout of an outrider and a whistle alerting the retinue of the path leading into the forest. Brittle winter gorse and low hanging branches snapped under the gait of oncoming horses...and now he realized that it wasn't just horses tramping into the woods, but something else as well.

  "There they are!" one of the soldiers called.

  "Braedon!" Ariana cried, glancing to him in panic. Her grip was anxious on the reins of her mount, her sudden stiffness confusing the palfrey and making it draw up on the path.

  Braedon came up behind her and nudged the beast forward with his knee. "Keep going, my lady. Don't look back."

  But it was too late. She was pivoted in her saddle and throwing a nervous look over her shoulder before he could stop her. "Mother Mary!" she gasped, terror vaulting in her voice. "They've loosed hounds on us!"

  "Nay, not hounds," Braedon growled, reaching behind him to unlash his crossbow and slam a bolt into the chamber. "Those are wolves. Take her with you and go as deep as you can into the forest," he ordered Kenrick.

  "No!" Ariana flung her hand out to grasp at his tunic sleeve. "No. I won't leave you!"

  "I'll be right behind you. Now, damn it, get out of here!"

  With a curse, he dropped the flat of his gauntleted hand on the rump of Ariana's mount, sending it away in a startled jolt of motion. Pausing only long enough to see that Kenrick had his sister well in hand and swiftly guiding her into the safety of deeper cover, Braedon then lifted his weapon and aimed for the fleeting shapes of the oncoming search party. The men on horseback were several yards behind the two hellish, bounding slashes of darkness that were running, snarling, teeth bared, toward the spot where he stood.

  He would have to wait a moment longer, letting the soot-black beasts race close enough that he could see the saliva frothing from their fangs, did he stand the slimmest prayer of hitting his mark with the short-shooting weapon. If only he'd had a longbow, he thought grimly, although he reckoned his skill with either contraption had long gone as rusty as his once-vaunted reputation.

  The wolves crashed through the underbrush, eyes gleaming in anticipation of the kill.

  Braedon stared dow
n the length of the crossbow, finding his mark on the beast in front, aiming for the huge black chest. He waited for his chance, his jaw clamped tight, thighs holding firm to his mount as the skittish palfrey became aware of the oncoming attack.

  "Easy," he muttered to the fidgeting horse, fighting hard to maintain a steady stance while his snarling target bounded closer.

  Closer....

  He squeezed the weapon's release and the bolt shot forth, a zinging flash of wood and steel-tipped menace. The metallic nick of the discharge gave his mount a start. It twitched beneath him, and sent his aim a hairbreadth to the right--grazing flesh and fur where it might have struck true in the beast's black heart. The wolf yelped in pain and went down for a moment, but as it struggled to regain its footing, its companion charged on undaunted.

  "Damnation."

  Too late to nock another bolt, Braedon slung the crossbow over his shoulder and gave the palfrey his heels. The second wolf was right upon him as he urged his mount farther into the woods, heading in the direction he had sent Kenrick and Ariana. It came up alongside of him, leaping, jaws snapping to gain purchase. Braedon smacked the reins against the horse's withers, pushing it harder as he reached down and freed his sword from its scabbard. The wolf had but a moment to focus on the arc of the slashing blade before Braedon leaned over and delivered a cleaving, deadly blow.

  He threw a glance behind him, to where the shapes of the fanning riders were growing more distinct, armor gleaming in the fingers of sunlight that splintered down from the forest canopy, faces taking shape across the narrowing distance. He recognized none, save the leader of the guard. He knew the face, and he knew the steely look of determination that rode on the hard line of his old friend's mouth.

  Pitched forward over the neck of a thundering black charger, eyes glittering with unwavering intent, Draec le Nantres had become a harbinger of death.

  Pride and fury tempted Braedon to rein in and stand his ground, to end the bitter rift with the spilling of one or the other's blood, but his foremost thought--his sole concern--was on Ariana. Unless he knew she was safe, there would be no time for the settling of old scores.

  With a narrowed glare and a snap of his reins, he sent his mount at a harder gallop, navigating the underbrush and obstacles of the forest as he pushed deeper into the woodland. Up ahead of him, visible only as intermittent flashes of streaming gold hair amid the dull brown and shadow of the trees, was Ariana. Kenrick, leading her at a swift pace through the bracken, turned and spotted Braedon behind them. They slowed long enough for him to catch up.

  "De Mortaine's men," Kenrick guessed, a spark of concern darkening his glance.

  "Half a dozen of them, maybe more. They're closing in on all sides. We have to get out of these woods if we stand a chance of outrunning them."

  "What about" --Ariana's question seemed to snag in her throat-- "Braedon, what about the wolves?"

  "There's only one left, and it's wounded. But I don't expect that to slow it down too long."

  "Should we split up?" Kenrick asked.

  Braedon dismissed the notion with a curt shake of his head. The shouts of the guards were drawing closer. "Too risky. We're better to stick together." He nudged his horse into the lead, already searching the outlying forest for routes of possible escape. "Come on. We have to keep moving."

  As hastily as they could, they resumed their flight. Tack jangling, breath misting in the cold, they ducked beneath low-hanging branches and leaped over tangled roots, plunging ever deeper into the shadowy realm of the woods. They crested a small ridge, only to be drawn up short by Braedon's raised hand. He pointed toward an oncoming guard, then just as quickly turned them in another direction.

  But a shout of alarm went up from the man they eluded, and suddenly the forest erupted with the sounds of bloodthirsty knights on horseback. And then they were racing into the thicket, riding blindly as the hunting party at their back closed in. Braedon saw an opening in the tangled bracken.

  "There!" he said to Kenrick, gesturing toward the darkened outlet and praying it was a way out of the woods. Braedon rode behind Ariana and her brother, watching their backs and momentarily relieved to see that they were outdistancing the knights on their bulky destriers. He followed under the natural arch of twisted vines and dormant ivy, his gaze scanning the other side for signs of danger. He sensed eyes on them, but could find no immediate source of the feeling. It wasn't until Kenrick went still beside him that he knew his instinct was not in error.

  "Behind you," Ariana's brother whispered. "Don't move."

  With a stealth belying his scholarly demeanor, and in direct defiance of the injuries that battered his body, Kenrick reached for Braedon's crossbow and brought the weapon to a ready stance. He drew a bolt from the quiver and easily placed it in the channel that would soon set it flying.

  Perhaps it was the confused, canine-sounding whimper that drew Braedon's head around to the place where Kenrick marked his aim. Perhaps it was the sudden sense that someone beckoned to him from within the murky shade of the forest alcove. Whatever it was, Braedon obeyed the queer sensation and turned his head to look over his shoulder, glancing in astonishment at the sight that met his eyes.

  As his gaze focused on the inquisitive, tilted head of the white wolf, he heard the soft click of the crossbow's trigger.

  "Hold!" he ordered, bringing up his hand to knock the weapon off-target. The deadly bolt sailed off into the bushes along with Braedon's disbelieving oath. "Hold your fire. She means us no harm."

  "Braedon," Ariana whispered beside him. "Is that..."

  With an ear twitching toward the sound of the advancing guards, the wolf then rose off her haunches and trotted onto a darkened path between the trees. She paused as if to encourage Braedon to follow her, and all at once he remembered the dream he'd had the other night. "Let's go," he said, taking the crossbow back and gesturing for Kenrick and Ariana to ride ahead of him.

  "Are the both of you mad?" Clairmont asked as his sister fell in behind the wolf on Braedon's command. "We have no idea what lies ahead of us there."

  Resituating the crossbow's strap over his shoulder, Braedon brought his horse around parallel to Kenrick's. "And I'd wager you have no idea what's closing in on us from behind. Nor would you want to. Let's go. It's our best option."

  With a look that said he was more accustomed to giving orders than receiving them, Ariana's brother guided his mount ahead of Braedon on the path. As in the dream, the white wolf escorted them silently into the heart of the forest. As in the dream, she came to the edge of a ravine and paused to see that they followed. Braedon gave a quiet order for Kenrick and Ariana to let him pass, and he walked his horse closer.

  As in the dream, a shower of ice crystals fluttered down around the wolf where she waited, the fine, filtering mist dislodged by a gentle breeze that ruffled the canopy overhead. The she-wolf vanished into the sparkling veil, but this time, unlike the dream, there was no coaxing gaze waiting for him on the other side of the ravine.

  The wolf was gone, and all that awaited was the steep cleft below.

  Behind them, a distance too close for Braedon's peace of mind, came the deep boom of Draec le Nantres' voice, shouting orders to his men. They had found the alcove; it would only be a matter of moments before they were full upon them. Braedon swore an oath and circled his mount around, gauging the outlying obstacles of the forest and their steadily narrowing opportunity for escape.

  Too late to turn back, too risky to try to outrun le Nantres and the guards, he could see only one option.

  "We have to jump the ravine."

  Chapter 19

  "What!" Ariana threw a wild glance at him. She shook her head, certain she did not hear him aright. "Braedon, we cannot--"

  He clasped the trembling hand that reached out to him, imploring. "We have to jump it, my lady. There is no other way."

  Ariana's heart slammed against her ribs as he held her hand in his, her gaze commanded by fierce steel-gray eyes. Breath ra
cing, limbs trembling, all she could hear was the crashing approach of de Mortaine's men behind them, getting closer, coming through the trees like a wave of malice and forcing their choices down to this impossible one.

  "Do you trust me?" Braedon asked, holding her hand against the solid warmth of his chest.

  "Yes." She nodded. Once, then again, more resolutely. "I trust you."

  "I'll go first," Kenrick said, his saddle leather creaking as he drew himself up straighter in his seat. Though it would take weeks for him to resemble the robust knight Ariana had known him to be before his captivity, his courage remained unbeaten. With a quirk of one tawny brow, he wheeled his mount to a spot several paces from the ledge and gave the beast his heels. The horse vaulted forward and leaped the chasm, scrambling only slightly as its hind hooves clipped the ragged edge of the ravine.

  A vaporous mist was rolling in thicker now. Although she had seen Kenrick complete the jump, he was all but engulfed in the swell of haze that blanketed the other side of the chasm. She could not see the ground over there; in a few minutes even the deep ravine would be clouded in opaque whiteness.

  "Now you, angel. Go, now." Braedon leaned over and kissed her soundly on the mouth, letting his forehead rest against hers for the merest beat of his heart before released her hand and urged her to follow her brother's example. "I am right behind you. I won't let you fall."

  A small, nervous cry died in her throat as she brought her mount the few paces it would need to build speed for the jump. Braedon nodded to her in reassurance, positioned at her back, ready to send his mount across the ravine after her.

  "Go, my love. Now."

  His voice, and his unexpected endearment, gave her strength. She shouted a cry to her mount and put her heels to its sides, sending the palfrey into a lurching vault. The horse's hooves tore up the frozen turf, and, with a sudden jarring leap, it was airborne. Ariana sucked in her breath and squeezed her eyes closed as she and the beast sailed over the cleft of the ravine. With a hard jolt, they were back on solid ground, landed safely on the other side.