“I must say each of you presents a compelling argument, and I’m quite keen on the idea. But I’d first like to hear my husband’s honest opinion,” I said, turning to Adam. “What do you think? Should I come?”
He studied me for a moment, with an expression I couldn’t quite read. I sat very still, certain he would dismiss me and say I’d be better off staying behind. Amidst his hesitation the servants brought out baskets of fruit and placed them on the table, accompanied by bowls of sugar and pitchers filled with honeyed cream. Adam chose a shiny green apple with a red blush on one side, cut it in two with his knife, and gave me one half. Finally, he answered, “Yes, I think you should come. In fact, it would make me very happy to have you there.”
Lord Thaine’s booming laughter filled the hall once more, and Adam grinned. “She’s a fine rider,” he continued, speaking to Lord Thaine though he kept his eyes on me. “And she possesses both great nerve and skill”—he shot him a warning look—“so I believe she’d be a fine addition to our hunting party. We’d be honored to have you, Alyce.”
“Thank you,” I said, trying not to blush at his kind words. I spooned berries onto my plate and poured the sweetened cream over them, their red and purple juices swirling together in the white pool.
“Excellent. It’s settled then.” Lord Thaine cracked his goblet against mine and drank, then kissed his wife full on the lips. “Don’t worry, Queen Alcestis, between me and my brother Eroy—and that husband of yours, of course—we’ll make sure you return from the hunt in one piece. Just keep your mount near us and you’ll be safe.”
With that, he gave me a slow, heavy wink as only the very drunk attempt, and shoved his chair back to go speak with his brother further down the table. Next to me, Adam snickered into his plate of raisin cake and candied oranges. “What’s so funny?” I asked.
He glanced up at Lord Thaine, who was now attempting to arm wrestle with his brother for the last sugared lemon. At least, what he thought was the last sugared lemon, since an entire bowl sat just to Adam’s left. “Trust me, Alyce, if you want to be safe in the hunt you’ll stay well away from Lord Thaine’s and Lord Eroy’s mounts.”
Down the table, a great shout rose up when Lord Thaine won the precious lemon, lifting the prize over his head before he sliced it in half and squeezed the juice directly into his mouth. I couldn’t help laughing, especially when Lady Kassia picked one up from the bowl next to Adam and tossed it at the back of her husband’s head. I managed to look away long enough to scoop up the last of my berries.
“Why is that?” I asked Adam, raising my voice to be heard over the chaos.
He grinned and put his mouth close to my ear. “Because they don’t ride horses,” he practically shouted. “They ride bears.”
Chapter 21
I’ve never considered myself a particularly cosmopolitan queen; Lord Thaine may have been jesting when he hinted at my somewhat callous background, but he wasn’t inaccurate when he referenced my limited sphere of experience compared to other queens. Some experiences I could have gone without, such as the nastiness of Princess Aveline and her companions, with their insults thinly veiled and presented under the subtle guise of courtly Itomian talk that I found so confusing. But I didn’t know how far from home I had truly traveled until the next morning when I saw two great brown bears being led from the stables by a handful of very terrified-looking servants, saddled and ready for a boar hunt.
Apparently, I was the only one unfamiliar with the brothers’ mount of choice, because no one else seemed remotely surprised when Lord Thaine approached his bear and tossed it a whole silver trout, which the bear snatched out of the air with its alarmingly sharp teeth. It chewed the fish for a moment before swallowing it in one gulp—an uncanny rendering of its owner drinking wine the previous night.
Since the hunt would take place throughout Itomius’s extensive network of forests, everyone dressed in shades of green and brown in an effort to blend with the surroundings. I proved no exception; my dress was dark, the same green as a pine tree, with fragrant fir needles sewn into the fabric along the trim. I felt much too warm wearing long sleeves on such a sunny day, but didn’t want my pale skin to startle the game. Lord Thaine, in his mud-colored hunting clothes with a quiver strapped to his back, nodded toward the bears. “Would you care for an introduction, Queen Alcestis?”
I swallowed, eyeing them nervously. “They look dangerous.”
He laughed. “Everything about this enterprise is dangerous. But if it comforts you, keep in mind that Eroy and I found them as cubs while out on a hunt very much like this one and have raised them since. The gods sent them to us as a gift, I’m sure of it. The poor motherless creatures wouldn’t have survived without us. They’re so accustomed to being around humans that they’re as tame as your horse.”
He offered me his arm and I accepted it mutely, wondering what I had gotten myself into. Talk of a hunt is all well and good when you’re sitting at a banquet table, but it’s quite different when you’re surrounded by barking dogs and the stench of boar urine. As Lord Thaine led me toward the bears I spotted Adam in a cluster of men, all testing their bowstrings. He looked oddly tense, speaking with Syrano in a low voice that I couldn’t make out in the distance between us. I didn’t have time to ponder his strange mood long, however, for a moment later my heart nearly stopped when I found myself nose to snout with Lord Thaine’s bear. Its clean fur looked silky and soft, but I wasn’t fooled by its lovable appearance. Its legs were thicker than the columns back in the palace and one swipe from its paw could have easily crushed my skull. The top of my head barely reached its shoulders in height; if I had met its eyes I was sure I’d have found inky black pools brimming with hatred.
Lord Thaine scratched the bear behind its ear. “Queen Alcestis, it is my pleasure to introduce to you my hunting partner: Daisy.”
I thought he was joking. Surely such a fierce animal would have more violent sounding name, like Killer or Destroyer. When I realized he was serious I burst out laughing, then quickly clamped my mouth shut for fear of alarming the bear. Its ears pricked and it lowered its head, touching my forehead with its wet, rubbery nose. I froze in place, hardly daring to breathe as the bear sniffed my hair and my cheek. I closed my eyes as it smelled my neck, praying that it wouldn’t tear open my throat with the terrible white blades concealed in its maw.
After what felt like an endless inspection, the bear snorted in my face, its fish-scented breath blowing back the loose curls that had fallen over my brow. I could have sworn Daisy looked almost bored as she gazed at Lord Thaine, clearly requesting another fish as payment for tolerating my presence. The other bear didn’t so much as glance at me. I didn’t mind at all.
“They look well,” said Adam, appearing beside me. He put his hand on my elbow and drew me backwards, away from the bear. “When’s the last time you brought them on a hunt?”
“Oh, I take her out at least once a week.” Lord Thaine reached out and patted Daisy’s haunches, his hand disappearing into the luxurious carpet of fur. “But that’s just the two of us. In a group like this? I’d say it’s been a year. She’ll behave, though. As long as those dogs don’t get underfoot and annoy her.”
“If they do, they’ll be sorry,” put in Lord Eroy, looking up from cleaning his bear’s paws. “Dogs learn by example. It only takes one to suffer a broken back to set the others to right. I just wouldn’t want to be that dog.”
As if in response, the dogs began howling in chorus. I thought for a wild moment they might have understood Lord Eroy’s words, but then a heavily bearded man lifted a bone-white horn to his lips and blew. The bright, vibrant sound echoed through the stable yard, sending the dogs into a greater frenzy. Even the horses caught the horn’s energy, arching their necks and tilting their ears forward, eager to make chase. The bears snarled and growled, their paws stamping the dirt as the brothers—with two men boosting each of them—climbed into their saddles. They had utterly transformed from the docile crea
tures I had met earlier. Now I understood why Adam had advised me to keep my distance from them during the hunt. One false step and they’d destroy you.
Amid the raucous participants I spotted one reluctant observer clinging glumly to his horse’s reins. He was young, scarcely more than a boy; beneath his fair Itomian hair his face was nearly a perfect match to Syrano’s, though considerably greener in color. I left Adam in his discussion with the brothers and led my horse toward him. “Hello,” I called, not bothering to attempt an Itomian curtsey. “I believe you’re my long-lost nephew.”
I’d hoped he would at least smile, but he only nodded. “I’m Prince Claren, and you’re my aunt, Queen Alcestis. I wasn’t at the banquet last night. Father wanted me to rest. It’s my first proper boar hunt.”
“Mine too. I’ve never hunted anything, in fact.”
His green pallor brightened with his astonishment. “Really? But you’re a queen.”
“True, but I haven’t been a queen for very long,” I admitted. “There isn’t much opportunity for hunting in my home. And this is my first foreign visit since I married your uncle.”
His brow wrinkled as he considered this. “That’s a good point,” he said slowly. “Mother told me you grew up very poor.”
He said it with the characteristic bluntness of a child, no malice intended, but it still sent a wince skipping across my face. Before I could begin to string together a response, he looked me square in the eyes and said, “But I don’t care if you know how to hunt or not. You’re a nice lady, Aunt Alcestis.”
With all the grace of a seasoned courtier, Claren drew my hand to his lips and kissed it, then swept a low bow in farewell. I watched him make his way to his father, his posture much straighter and more confident than before.
“Hunters, up!”
The bearded man blew into the horn again, and the few hunters remaining on foot scrambled into their saddles. I looked around for Adam, a tiny flicker of anticipation coursing through my belly. He made his way to me through the throng and clapped his hands together.
“Ready, Alyce?”
I smiled shakily. “I am.”
Hunting calls went up all around, but I was too nervous to join in. Trembling with excitement, I gripped my horse’s reins and gratefully allowed Adam to help me into my saddle, though as I moved my foot to fit it into my stirrup, he continued to hold my boot.
“There’s something I want to make sure you understand,” he said, suddenly serious. “Caledonian boar aside, these woods are teeming with dangerous creatures. You must stay with me; don’t leave my side. If for any reason we are separated, find Syrano and ride with him. If you end out on your own I want you to ride back to the palace and wait for me there.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
The horn blew a third time, and he smiled, bright-eyed with happiness. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Alyce,” he said, and swung himself into his saddle. I guided my horse beside his, and before I could blink, we were off.
Having never hunted before, I didn’t know what exactly to expect. What surprised me most was how long the whole business took. After the initial bolt into the heart of the forest, the pace slowed considerably. The dogs had to stop time after time to reclaim the scent, and as they darted to and fro with their noses pressed to the ground the rest of us were left to wander idly. The bears lumbered along, pausing to sharpen their front claws on the odd tree trunk and frightening any roosting birds or nearby squirrels. As we progressed I found myself utterly enchanted by the beauty of the forest. The trees were enormous; their high branches entwined overhead to form a thick canopy shading the forest floor. Every so often we’d splash through a shallow creek bordered by cool ferns and flowering shrubs, with mossy boulders crouching nearby. Birds flitted past us, little more than black darts against the green sky. If it weren’t for our noisy party the only sounds in the forest would’ve been trickling water and the rustle of leaves.
Hours passed, and my joy in the hunt grew. My legs ached from riding and I grew so hungry that even Adam could hear my quaking stomach. When we stopped for a break he smiled and fished in his saddlebag for a hard roll, accompanied by a strip of meat. He passed them to me, and I wolfed both down so quickly I found myself staring at my empty hand, wondering where the food had gone.
“Fine dining, isn’t it?” Adam winked, taking a swing from his wineskin and handing it to me. “I’m afraid that’s the life of the hunt for you. You can only eat what you carry or kill.”
I swallowed a mouthful of the sticky-sweet wine. “Indeed. It’s a good thing wheat doesn’t run off and hide after you plant it, else Myrilla would starve.”
With a laugh, Adam pointed to one of the dogs. It had wandered slightly away from the others and was sniffing the roots of an old oak tree. “That one’s about to catch the scent,” he whispered. “Just watch him.”
I did. The dog had wiry grey fur and moved methodically over the forest floor. “How can you tell?”
“He’s the only one with the courage to leave the safety of the group. The others will be tripping over themselves for ages trying to find it, but it’ll take them twice as long.”
The dog lifted its head and I was startled to see its eyes were cast in milky white. “Oh,” I gasped. “He’s blind.”
“And a better hunting dog for it,” said Adam, beaming with pride. “He’s older than all the others, with more experience than the rest of them combined. His nose could smell out a three-day-old trail.”
I turned toward him and raised my eyebrows. “I have a feeling you know this dog.”
“His name is Kingfisher. He’s my father’s. They hunted together every season until Father gave it up.” He sighed. “It’s a pity he wouldn’t come today, don’t you think, Syrano?” he asked as his brother rode up beside us.
“Father hasn’t hunted in months, Admetus,” he said gently. “It’s too hard on him.”
“That’s absurd. He’s always been an athlete of the highest caliber. He could ride rings around you and I.”
Syrano shook his head and dismounted. “This past winter was unforgiving; his lungs took the fluid and he hasn’t been the same since.”
“Father’s more fit than anyone else here and you know it,” Adam argued. “Just because you think he’s an old man—”
“That’s precisely what he is, Admetus,” said Syrano, in his voice of unrelenting calm. “In your mind he’s ageless, but in reality he’s quite elderly. He knows it as well.”
Adam stopped walking, outraged. “How dare you say such a thing about our lord father? Are you going to push him out of the throne as soon as his seat is warm enough for you? It would shame him to hear you talk in such a way.”
I watched Syrano, certain he would lose his temper now, but he merely shook his head again. “It has nothing to do with thrones or politics, and you’d know that if you’d listen to a word I’ve said. Not all men fear death as you do. Father has done great things in this life; it’s no disrespect to wish him safe passage into the next.”
The dog—Kingfisher—brayed. Adam was right, he had caught the scent first. I looked at him, ready to congratulate him on his accurate guess, but his face was so hard and far away in thought that I only reached out and touched his arm. He glanced down at my hand in surprise, then threw his reins over his horse’s neck. “What frightens me more than anything right now,” said Adam, his voice much calmer, “are those two monsters up there.” He nodded toward the bears. “I know Thaine and Eroy raised those animals from cubs, but they don’t have obedience in their blood. They were never meant to be tamed.”
“I know what you mean,” said Syrano. He waved for Claren to join us and grinned at me. “Keep good distance from them, Alcestis. I’m loathe to think how my brother would survive if the gods snatched you away.”
I checked the tightness of my saddle, ready to resume chase, but the cluster of dogs that had disappeared so eagerly into the trees a moment before now returned to the clearing in retreat. The ea
ger baying had faded into shrill whimpers and cowering tails. I glanced at Adam, about to ask him what had happened, but he looked as confused as I. Our silent questions were answered, however, when a horrific crashing sound echoed through the clearing. We all watched in mute terror as the giant Caledonian boar—indeed, taller than a warhorse—emerged from the dense trees with blood smeared on its tusks and its coarse fur dappled in the sunlight.
Chapter 22
It may seem foolish to you, but my very first thought upon seeing the Caledonian boar was that it couldn’t possibly be real. I thought it might be an elaborate illusion drawn up for our amusement, like a play-battle in a court entertainment. The idea of a boar of such great size seemed mockingly impossible at the banquet; even Adam had admitted to never laying eyes on one. Now it stood before me, a mere stone’s throw away.
I was not alone in my astonishment. It felt as though a full minute had passed before anyone moved or spoke. The boar scraped its bloody tusks against a tree, casually, ignoring our presence. I could only see the eyes set in its flat face when it turned its head to the side, and its cloven hooves pawed mildly at the leaves underfoot. Its tail switched back and forth like a whip, and it was so tall I wasn’t sure I could have touched the top of its ears if I stood on tiptoe and stretched out my arms.
“By the gods, it’s a monster,” I heard someone swear.
From the corner of my eye I saw Lord Thaine notch an arrow to his bowstring. Adam spotted it, too. “Don’t shoot,” he hissed.
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