Lord of the Hunt

by Shona Husk

  There was only one simple rule when bringing animals to Annwyn: once they’d eaten here or drank from the river, they could never go back across the veil. Annwyn changed them. It changed everyone who lived here. He could see that now. He saw how different Taryn was to the other fairies, to him. He was no different to animals brought here for sport, trapped until his usefulness had run out. He swallowed. Hopefully he wouldn’t find an arrow in his heart or a sword at his throat.

  For today he’d acquired more deer, including a couple of impressive stags. Once turned loose, he had no idea where they’d run. Many years ago, the Court would’ve hunted in the mortal world, but these days those hunts were restricted. There were too few true wilds and too many humans.

  Fairy horses—animals that had once been mortal horses—came to his whistle. White hounds chased each other across the grass, tumbling and yipping with excitement. Expectation was in the air. Usually he would be thrilled to hunt; his blood would be pumping with primitive desire. He imagined that was what it would feel like to be free all the time, that the forests were his to roam, and that he was a wild fae. Did the fairies of Annwyn even realize what they’d given by breaking their ties with the mortal world and nature?

  Probably not. They probably didn’t even see the gilded cage they were in. If not for Taryn, he wouldn’t have noticed even as the bars pressed against him.

  He lifted his face to the sun and glanced around. Nothing seemed amiss…and yet…today something was off. Missing. He didn’t know what.

  He’d checked everything, been working since dawn had lightened the sky from velvety purple to pale blue, checked everything again, and still he couldn’t displace the sense of wrongness around him. As the Lords and Ladies arrived—not all of them, just the ones held in the highest regard—he tried to ignore it. There was nothing he could do but smile and do his job. Failing wouldn’t earn him any favors, and it was clear he would need some sooner rather than later. Now Felan knew he was having an affair with Taryn, the Prince could use it against him.

  He bit back the sigh. He needed a new game, but he was too tired of plotting and scheming to stay at the head of the pack. The stolen moments with Taryn in the mortal world made him ache for something simpler, something he’d thought he’d left behind long ago. Yet it was out of reach as long as he was Hunter and she needed to get her father’s pardon.

  Taryn arrived looking every bit the Lady, dressed in red with rubies at her throat. She was almost dressed too well. The ill feeling in his stomach grew and festered. He held the horse for her as she mounted, the way he would for any Lady not being escorted by her current Lord or lover, his hand lingering on hers for a fraction longer than necessary.

  “You look luscious.” He wanted to peel the fabric from her body kiss by kiss and savor the taste as if she were an exotic fruit not usually seen in Annwyn.

  Her gaze fixed on his face for a moment. “The dress was a gift.”

  “Gwyn?” He touched her knee for the merest of moments and felt the delicate fabric. An expensive dress that few could have afforded.

  She nodded. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and her eyes were wide, like a startled doe.

  “One of us has to smile. It had better be you.” He almost choked on the words even though they were true.

  “Once my parents are back—”

  “One bridge at a time.” He’d once imagined his parents would be thrilled to be invited to Court, yet when he’d proved himself and invited them, they had refused. Not for them. But he knew Taryn’s parents, and he understood her love for them. Whatever it took. He glanced up at her again; she didn’t look like she could do it.

  Annwyn made people make hard choices. Sometimes there wasn’t a win, only less of a fail. What would she hate more, backing out at the last moment and condemning her parents or falling into the King’s bed?

  It wasn’t a choice he envied nor one he could make for her. Or one he wanted to think about. He battled to keep his hand from curling into a fist and dragging the King into a fight. That would end badly, so he forced calm. They would hunt and enjoy the day. Tonight, tonight he wanted to be taking her back across the veil instead of lying in bed alone and wondering what she was doing.

  “I propose two teams,” the Queen called out, drawing all attention to herself. She wore blue, a color that was fast becoming yesterday’s favorite. He noted many of the women in shades of pink, from darkest puce to palest sunrise. Felan was wearing purple, as was the King, as was appropriate on a formal hunt.

  Verden always played it safe and stuck to neutral greens and browns. No one ever wore them and it meant he never picked a side with just his clothes. He looked at Gwyn, astride his horse, for confirmation. Verden didn’t want to be obeying the woman who was slowly destroying Annwyn out of spite. Teams—that complicated things and made his job harder, plus he wouldn’t get to hunt. No doubt that was deliberate; the Queen really hated him now. The King nodded.

  “Very well. Who shall lead, my Lady, since you proposed the idea?” There was no way he was stepping into that trap willingly. The bitch Queen was making trouble on what should have been a relaxed day of riding and talking and drinking. And he didn’t know what trouble she was planning. Did Gwyn?

  Eyra paused as if considering, but Verden was sure she knew already. He’d bet his life on that.

  “Lords verses Ladies.” She grinned, but there was no humor in it. It was cold and calculated.

  Verden let the tension in his shoulders ease a little; at least Taryn wouldn’t be riding with the King, but maybe that was the Queen’s plan. She was making the point that she could keep Taryn away from the King; she could keep all the Ladies away from the King. He briefly wondered if she could stop all the Ladies from bedding their lovers. That would certainly make for an edgy Court.

  Gwyn’s eyes narrowed. “You wish us to be at odds, wife?”

  “Only for the hunt, love.”

  Was that a public declaration they were holding it together or a more public declaration they’d fallen apart? Out here, with no shadow servants to pick up the fallen petals and leaves, they littered the ground. The decaying of Annwyn couldn’t be disguised.

  “Very well, Lords verses the Ladies it is. Hawks verses hounds?” The King was almost smiling.

  Curse it to the river; he hadn’t called the hawks. Not that it would take long, but he hated looking unprepared.

  The Queen nodded. “Your choice.”

  Everyone looked at the King. Hawks were the safe bet, as they’d bring a small kill. Hounds meant gambling everything on a deer to win. How secure was the King feeling?

  The horses pranced as they got twitchy waiting to start. A couple of the Ladies giggled before being silenced with a glance from Sulia.

  “Hounds,” Gwyn said. He voice clear and strong.

  Verden signaled for the hounds to go to the King, then he whistled for the hawks. Three fine birds swooped in looking for an arm. The Queen held out hers, as did Sulia. The last hawk circled, and after some prompting from Sulia, Taryn held out her arm. She closed her eyes as the hawk landed. He could see the tension in her body from here. Maybe Taryn would have been safer with the King instead of the Queen.

  That the Queen had favored Taryn with a hawk wouldn’t go unnoticed by the King. It looked as though Taryn was in with the Ladies. Verden hoped she knew what a fine blade she was walking on. He didn’t want to her to slip and cut an artery. She could lose favor with the King faster than she’d gained it. While the idea held appeal, Verden didn’t want to see her grieving over her parents. He wanted her to be happy.

  Was there even such a thing in Annwyn, or was it all for show?

  Verden acknowledged the King, then the Queen. “By the rules of the hunt, a clean kill wins. Should both teams return a kill, the largest will win.” Which meant the King would win if he managed to catch a deer. He had a bad feeling that the Queen was going to win this. And if someone was winning, there had to be a prize.

  What were the K
ing and Queen prepared to lose in this public battle? He was becoming glad he wasn’t riding with the hunt today. He couldn’t, as someone had to judge, and that would be his job. He forced a breath between his teeth. He was really starting to hate this, something he’d never thought he’d ever think. Yet his whole world was turning sour as winter crept closer.

  “The winning team will get to choose their partners for the midsummer dance.” Gwyn smiled as he spoke, and for the first time in a long time, he looked like he was enjoying himself.

  That should be enough of a warning that something was up. If Eyra won, the Ladies would get to pick a Lord. Who could Eyra pick without losing face? No one. As no one wanted to be her partner after Shea’s death and everyone knew it. But the King…Verden risked a glance at Taryn…he could choose her publicly and no one would bat an eyelid. Yet at the same time it would be a slight toward the Queen.

  “Very well.” The Queen inclined her head.

  Then the King and Queen shook hands; that was probably the most they’d touched in recent memory. There were a few murmured words, but no one was close enough to hear.

  Something that should have been a good thing somehow felt like the end of the world was drawing closer. They weren’t reconciling; they were just shifting their feud to the next level. They were gambling against each other in public. No one would win today. But who would lose more than they could afford?

  Verden raised his hand. “Ladies to my left, Lords to my right. There is plenty of forest and game for all. Foul play will not be tolerated. You all know the rules. Play fair; win well. Happy hunting.” He let his hand fall and the riders were off.

  Horses plunged into the woods, hounds weaving beneath their feet. The hawks took flight, and too soon he lost sight of Taryn. Then he was alone. He crossed his arms. He didn’t know which team he wanted to win. With a click of his tongue, he turned and walked back to castle Annwyn. He needed those shadows to start bringing out cushions, food, and refreshments. He’d rather be hunting with Taryn.

  ***

  The ride was exhilarating. Before coming to Annwyn, she’d never been near a horse and now she was riding through the forest as the hawks searched for prey. It was exciting and like reenacting history. People didn’t do this anymore. When the Queen had suggested Ladies versus Lords, she’d breathed a sigh of relief before disappointment had caught up. She’d been hoping to accidentally ride near Verden.

  Now she was caught next to Sulia. “Many Lords are vying for your favor yet you seem to be ignoring them all.”

  “I’m not here to date a fairy.” She shrugged, not wanting to be caught in this conversation. Beneath her the horse totted along. There was no rush when the hawks were doing the work and all they had to do was watch and wait. She was sure there were marks on her arm from where it had landed. She’d almost died when the Queen had insisted she hold out her arm for the bird to sit on.

  “You prefer human men.” Sulia smiled as if they shared a secret.

  “Men are men regardless of what they are.” That much was true, but Verden made her heart skip a beat the way no one had ever done before.

  “Is that a polite way of saying they just want sex?” Sulia’s gaze flicked over her dress and back up to her face. “That is a beautiful dress…where did you get it?”

  “I’ve had some made.” Discussing who had given it to her wouldn’t win her friends with the Ladies. “Do you prefer human men?”

  Sulia raised one eyebrow but said nothing. She didn’t need to. Sulia was visiting the mortal world and not for sightseeing. Since the Queen’s Ladies weren’t allowed to take a lover at Court—because the Queen couldn’t—they were going elsewhere. Maybe some were meeting fairy men, but others were looking for humans. If the Queen knew about Verden and her, she’d be out of the inner circle faster than she could say “I slipped and fell on it.” Obviously most of these women thought celibacy was worth being the Queen’s friends—that or they were being super sneaky. Her bet was on the latter.

  After a few moments of silence, Taryn decided to risk continuing the talk on men even though she was sure the ground was becoming less stable beneath her feet. “Why? I would’ve thought with all the beauty here, the men across the veil would be dull.”

  “As you said, men are men. But mortal men…they are less troublesome. Their lives are shorter and they will do almost anything for the promise of immortal life.”

  What was Sulia getting them to do?

  There was only one thing a mortal man could do that a fairy man couldn’t—give Sulia a child. Her heart gave a thump as the realization hit, but she kept her gaze steady and expression fixed.

  Sulia was trying to get pregnant. In this climate? Was she mad? The Queen would banish her and her baby would be a darkling, born of a banished parent. Or was she hoping that the Queen would be off her throne before the pregnancy showed?

  “You go across regularly?” Taryn tried to keep her voice steady.

  Sulia gave an elegant shrug as if it was nothing.

  Maybe it did mean nothing. Maybe, but so far Sulia didn’t seem to do anything without it forming part of her plan—it was just a pity no one knew what that plan was.

  “Perhaps I could ask the Prince for permission to go with you. I would love to see my parents again.”

  “Perhaps, but then you would owe me a favor.” There was an edge in Sulia’s voice this time. As if she wanted Taryn to be indebted. She hoped she never had to cross the veil with Sulia. Owing her favors would be far too dangerous.

  She listened to the chatter around her, the rustling of the trees now more gold than green. She breathed in and tried to find peace. She was in the forests of Annwyn, surrounded by beauty, and all she could think of was the danger, the hidden claws and teeth of the women around her and the plotting of the Queen.

  Taryn glanced at Sulia and decided risking another conversation would be worth it. “If the Ladies win the hunt, do we really get to choose who ever we want?”

  “Got someone in mind after all?”

  Taryn shook her head. “I like to know how these things work in advance, so I have time to think.”

  “A wise thought. If we win, the Queen will choose first, then me, then she will dictate the order. Most will choose their husband or their lover, depending on their mood. The rest of us will choose the person we favor or would like a favor from.” Sulia stared at her. “Who will you choose?”

  The only man she wanted was as out of reach as the moon while they were in Annwyn. She couldn’t pick Verden no matter how much she’d like to, but she probably wouldn’t even get the chance. “I don’t know. I don’t know anyone well enough…besides I would be the last to choose.”

  “We won’t take all the good ones,” Sulia promised

  Taryn didn’t believe her for a second. Verden would be snapped up by Rhodia; her eyes never left him when he walked in the room. On the other hand, it might also mean she’d be free of the King’s attention. “Who will you choose?”

  “The Prince of course.” Sulia directed her horse to the left. “Look.” Sulia pointed up at a hawk that was circling above the trees. “We have to win this hunt.”

  Yes they did. If the Lords won, she was sure the King would choose her and that wouldn’t sit well with anyone. She urged her horse after Sulia and hoped the hawks would bring in enough kills, while hoping the men missed their targets and caught no deer.

  ***

  Breathless and with the Queen convinced of their win, Taryn and the other Ladies made their way back to the clearing where they’d started. They had a selection of small game. Was it enough? Only if the men failed to catch anything. Taryn bit her tongue so she didn’t actually state the obvious and find herself on the receiving end of the Queen’s temper. Really, what were the odds the King would get a deer? Human hunters failed and they had guns; all the King and his Lords had were bows and swords and hounds. Added to that was the realization that by the time the choosing got to her, there would be less politics. Taryn wa
s feeling happier than she had been in a few mortal days—ever since the incident in Yosemite.

  While they’d been hunting, the clearing where they had started from had been transformed. Cushions in every color were spread on the grass. Shadows lingered at the edges, armed with trays of food and drink. On the other side was the King—a stag at his feet.

  Taryn’s stomach hollowed as if punched. The men had a kill and a far more impressive one than their collection. For a moment she thought she might throw up, but she swallowed and kept her composure.

  “A thousand plagues on him,” the Queen snarled and got off her horse. While her eyes glittered with rage, her lips were curved in a smile—a rather feral smile that made Taryn think of a wolf closing in on a kill.

  “Shall we let the Lord of the Hunt decide, my love?” The King bowed to the Queen, but he was also smiling. Cold and just as dangerous. Taryn wanted to slip away and be forgotten.

  The Queen gave a tight-lipped nod and everyone dismounted. Verden dismissed the horses, hawks, and all but two of the hounds that were his right to have in attendance. Then he made a show of inspecting the kills. His jaw was tight and there was no joy in his eyes. She knew exactly how he felt. This was all bad and getting steadily worse.

  Verden faced the King and Queen. “A close contest.” He inclined his head. “But I think that felling a stag in his prime is a grander feat. The hunt goes to the Lords.”

  People clapped; there was some jostling and laughter amongst the men. No doubt they had already worked out who they were picking. This was beginning to feel like being picked for a sports team at school. Those with power or perceived status would be picked first; those without would be left to the end. This whole thing was a popularity contest. While they hunted and picnicked, people died and plague spread.