Hunt- Red Riding Hood Retold

by Demelza Carlton

  "Not bad," Chase said.

  Rosa folded her arms. She'd been every bit as good as him.

  "Let's try again," he said. With four more arrows, he turned his cross into the rune for the fire god.

  Rosa's mouth went dry. Did he know…?

  "Now, your turn," Chase said, setting the butt of his bow on the ground.

  Rosa lifted hers, ready to bite her lip again.

  "Without magic," Chase added.

  She stared at him in horror. "Why in the goddess's name would I do that? You use your strengths, and I'll use mine."

  "But what if you need to use your magic for something else, and can't use it to guide your arrows? Better that you use your bow to shoot, and shoot well, and keep your magic for where it's most needed. What if you grew tired, or you ran out of magic?"

  Rosa shook her head. "Magic doesn't work that way." But even as she said it, she could see he had a point. She could grow too tired to use her magic properly, or she might lose too much blood and be unable to cast another spell. And while she could summon a huge gust of wind, she struggled to control two, even if they were very small.

  "Show me how you shoot, Mistress Rosa. Please."

  Between the look in his eyes and his wheedling tone, she could not refuse him anything. Thank the gods he hadn't asked her for a kiss instead.

  Rosa took a deep breath, released it, and focussed on her arrow. It would never reach the target from this distance without magic.

  She fired anyway, seeing the arrow dip so that it would strike the dirt long before the target.

  He hadn't said anything about not using magic to retrieve her arrow, though, so she dashed forward, ready to catch the arrow when it flew back into her hand.

  When she'd halved the distance, she took aim once more. The second arrow reached the target, but only just. The point touched the bottom edge, then fell away, for it had not hit hard enough to stay.

  Rosa cursed and summoned the arrow back.

  "I'm too far from the target," she said, lifting her foot to halve the distance again.

  But a hand caught her arm, pulling her back.

  "I assure you, you're not," Chase said, releasing her. He held out his arms. "May I show you?"

  Mutely, Rosa nodded.

  She found herself pulled into his embrace, or that's what it felt like, until she realised he had his hands on the bow and arrow, not her.

  A hard, muscled leg slid between hers, making her gasp, but he merely nudged her stance wider as he turned her, then withdrew.

  Rosa couldn't breathe. She'd lain in his arms for several nights now, but somehow this seemed closer, more intimate. Then she felt his body hard against her back and she thought she might swoon.

  He laid his cheek against hers. "Pull," he whispered, wrapping his hand around hers as he drew the arrow so far back, his fingers touched her breast. "Aim." He blew out a warm breath that seemed to head straight down the lacings of her gown. "Loose." He let go.

  Rosa's knees crumpled. Fortunately, the only thing he'd released was the arrow – if anything, his grip around her tightened, so she stayed on her feet. Barely.

  "Now you try," he said. "Or do you want me to show you one more time?"

  Her voice came out as a whisper. "Please."

  "First, I want you to promise me something."

  "Anything." She meant it, too.

  "You won't go off hunting the wolf without me. When you go, you'll take me with you. I want your word, Rosa. I can't bear the thought of you going out there alone. If something were to happen to you…so I must go with you. Give me your oath on whatever you hold holy that we will hunt the wolf together."

  She pressed her lips together. While her body might be going mad with desire for this man, her head still ruled her. And she knew she would be safer hunting without him. Especially after tonight.

  "Give me your word, or I shall carry you inside and lock you in the cellar. Then I'll hunt the beast on my own."

  "NO!" burst from her lips. "You'll be killed!"

  He chuckled. "A normal woman would be fearful of being locked up, while having faith that her champion would return victorious."

  She wrenched free so she could face him. Why, oh why was she breathing so hard?

  "If I were a normal woman, you'd already be dead. I won't let that wolf kill anyone else!"

  His stony expression gave her no hope. "Your oath, Mistress Rosa."

  She closed her eyes. This was madness, yet what else could she do? "I swear on my life, and the souls of my family, that when I hunt the wolf who killed them, I shall take you with me."

  With her eyes still closed, she had no warning. He seized her and kissed her, stealing her breath almost entirely. For a moment, she froze.

  It's Midwinter Eve, she reminded herself. If they spent the rest of the scant daylight hours kissing, when night fell he might be the one to seduce her, and with the gods' help for the hunt, he would be safe.

  She gasped, sucking in air like a woman nearly drowned, threw her arms around the knight's neck and kissed him with all the passion she could muster.

  Thirty-Two

  Hoofbeats, in a hurry. Chase reluctantly released Rosa, and took up a defensive position before her. He might only have a bow, but he could kill the horse and its rider before either reached Rosa. He had some honour left, after all.

  The rider galloped into view, then pulled the horse to a stop, hard. "Sir Chase!" the man shouted, sliding to the ground. "We all thought you must be dead!"

  Alard, the Baron's son. Chase lowered his bow. "Only thanks to Mistress Rosa here, and the good fortune that wolves prefer horseflesh to mine."

  "Well, thank God for that, then, eh? Though you must be quick if you mean to kill the beast. I have sent out my men to scour the forest for it. After it attacked again…"

  Rosa ducked out from behind Chase. "Who did you send? And who was attacked?"

  "Mighty hunters, just like Sir Chase here, though I don't think any of them were knights. They rode off in different directions. Each man swore he would bring me the wolf's head, and win the reward." Alard looked dazed. "The beast will not survive the night!"

  "You fool!" she hissed. "It's your men who won't survive the night! There's more than one wolf now – a whole pack of them, and they hunt horses!"

  Alard's face turned pale, his eyes suddenly as icy as Rosa's when she was annoyed. "It's treason to show such disrespect to your liege lord, not to mention the man who will soon be your husband. Beg for my forgiveness now, and I shall not have you thrown in the stocks."

  Rosa was betrothed to the Baron's son? Why hadn't she told him?

  Rosa gasped. "The Baron? He's…gone? How did the wolf manage to enter his bedchamber?"

  "Of course the wolf didn't kill him. Wolves can't open doors. He died last night, on the blade of his own sword, which caused chaos in the household, for there was no priest about to administer last rites, and I feared for his soul…"

  Rosa stamped her foot. "Let the priest worry about your father's soul. Who did the wolf attack, if not the Baron?"

  Alard's face still looked pinched. "Piroska. We did not find her until this morning, what with all the fuss over my father. It's likely one of my riders scared the wolf off, or it might have been much worse."

  "Worse than losing the woman carrying your unborn son and heir?" Rosa demanded, advancing. "Your father would be ashamed to hear you say such a thing. And you gave me your word that you would marry her before the week was out. Faithless fool, what kind of man can't even protect his own wife and child?"

  Alard retreated, until his back smacked against a tree, his eyes round with fear. "She lives! She lives!"

  Rosa stopped. "The wolves didn't kill her?"

  "The beast dragged her into a ditch beside the road, her cloak so covered in mud no one saw her until morning, when she was half frozen. She has some bite marks on her arms, but that is all." Alard seemed to recover a speck of his former composure. "She is safe in her father's cottage,
resting. He had to give her some strong drink to send her to sleep, for she was quite hysterical."

  Rosa blinked, suddenly thoughtful. "Piroska does not own a cloak. She wraps herself in a shawl as she stares at me in mine."

  "I gave it to her. She insisted she would not see me again until I gave her one," Alard said. "Just like yours."

  Realisation dawned. That meant…

  "The wolf mistook her for me," Rosa said slowly, as if reading Chase's thoughts. "If it doesn't know the difference, it will come back for her, to kill her as he did the rest of my family."

  Chase found himself nodding. "Or perhaps it noticed it had made a mistake, and left her."

  "It's an animal!" Alard said. "Beasts don't think!"

  "Go home, Alard. Get Piroska into the Great House, then lock the doors and bar the gates. Post guards inside. We'll deal with the wolf, and maybe save the lives of your men while we're at it." Rosa flicked her hand in dismissal.

  "As your husband to be, I forbid it!" Alard insisted. A stronger man might have roared the words, but Alard's voice was too reedy for it to sound like more than a whine.

  Rosa lifted her chin. "You are not, and never will be, my husband. Now, get home, you fool, to the woman you promised you'd marry. Before the wolf pack comes after you and your horse."

  Wind began to move through the treetops, swirling what leaves remained. Alard's horse's ears flew back, his eyes rolling in panic. The horse recognised angry magic, even if its master did not.

  "I command you to come with me!" Alard said.

  Chase watched in amazement as a whirlwind of leaves shot down to the ground, lifted a struggling Alard, and dropped him into his saddle. The horse bolted, its master barely clinging to its back, while the wind whipped the beast's tail to urge it on.

  "His father was a good man who believed in the old gods, but paid lip service to the new god for the love of his wife. He should have taken another wife after she died, but he said he had no need, with Alard as his heir. Gods grant Alard a son who possesses all the wits he does not, though given who the mother is…who knows?" Rosa shrugged. "What he does now matters not. We need to find that wolf before it kills again."

  Chase agreed. "Tonight."

  She sighed. "I had hoped to wait until tomorrow, but we cannot. It seems I will definitely need your help, enacting the best plan we can concoct before sunset." She looked troubled, but didn't say why.

  Probably worried about facing the wolf again, after failing the first time. Chase certainly was.

  "May your gods help us," he said solemnly. The god of his father certainly hadn't done anything for him – perhaps the old gods would be more helpful.

  "They'll have to, if they ever want another priestess." Rosa beckoned. "We have a few hours until dark, and you promised me an archery lesson."

  Chase wished he could lock her in the cellar, safe from harm, but Rosa probably knew another way out. She was as eager for this fight as he was.

  He swallowed. No more kisses. He would bring her the wolf's head, or die trying.

  Thirty-Three

  "That tree," Chase said, pointing.

  He'd picked the largest one, with branches so broad you could sleep on them. The wolf would not be able to knock over this mighty tree, Rosa was certain of it. She brought the carpet lower, so that Chase only had to step out onto the branch. He had his bow, a full quiver, a jar of tallow and a brazier full of coals. His armour would protect him and his cloak would keep him warm. She shouldn't worry so, she told herself, but she could not shake the memory in her mind's eye of him falling out of the tree that first time.

  Remember, we both have to survive this battle, if you want us to perform the Midwinter rites tonight, Rosa said silently to the gods of the forest, knowing they would be listening. Unless you wish to find a new priestess.

  She didn't expect a response, but it would have been nice, all the same. The gods only spoke to the High Priestess, or so her grandmother had said.

  She didn't have chickens as bait this time. Hagen had caught his first rat, and inadvertently showed her the nest where she'd found four more. Now their gutted corpses lay scattered around the clearing, the smell of fresh blood enough to lure any predator in for a taste.

  She prayed it would be enough, and wished she'd had the foresight to demand Alard's horse to use as bait instead.

  If they failed tonight, she would head straight for the stables.

  She had her bow and a quiver of her own, but Chase was the true hunter tonight, not her. Her job was to be his eyes in the air, seeing what he could not, while his fire arrows would light up the clearing, bright as day.

  The fire should drive off the pack, if they were naught but ordinary wolves, they'd decided, but they weren't so sure about the white wolf. Fire had saved her life the night it had killed her family, so it would surely be wary of it, but not in the way of a wild beast. No, like a man who had been burned.

  Rosa flew up, high above the treetops, where she might see the clearing and half the forest. She pulled her cloak close around her, and settled down to wait.

  The sun sank. The sky faded into twilight, before deepening to darkness. The moon would not rise for hours yet. All the more reason for the fire arrows.

  The wind brought her sounds from every corner of the forest, whispering that wolves were on their way, and from where.

  Rosa let the wind carry her own whispered words to Chase: "They come, from the west."

  She thought she glimpsed something moving in the trees, around the edge of the clearing. The southern side, though, not the west. Then she blinked, and it was gone. Probably just leaves, or snow whipped up by the wind, she decided.

  Chase's first arrow blazed into light, arcing up, across the clearing, to find its target in the eye of a wolf. He was a remarkable shot, and she would tell him so, when this was over.

  His second and third arrows landed in the snow.

  Perhaps not so remarkable, after all.

  Two more wolves went down to ordinary arrows.

  Only then did Rosa realise that the shots into the snow had not missed, but the lamp oil had been slow to catch fire. A ring of flames rose up, encircling the wolf pack.

  The pack panicked, milling around the clearing like frightened sheep. One picked up a dead rat, while others ran in every direction, cutting one another off as they darted around, trying to escape the flames that fenced them in.

  Rosa looked in vain for the white wolf, but it was nowhere to be seen. Once again, the creature had sacrificed someone else with no care for the consequences or loss of life. A nobleman or a king for sure.

  She glanced at Chase, wondering if the knight would simply slaughter the pack while they were trapped. He was a nobleman, too, after all.

  But the branch where he'd sat only moments before was empty.

  "Chase!" she shouted, swooping lower.

  "I see it!" he called back.

  She could not see him, but his voice sounded excited. She dropped further, straining her eyes to see. Was that movement on the ground beneath it? Gods, if he was on the ground…

  A fire arrow dropped into the snow, narrowly missing the white wolf's tail. It started to run away.

  "I have a clear shot!" Chase said, now on the tree's lowest branches. Barely two yards above the snow, level with a drift that stood between him and the beast. Almost like a defensive wall…

  The wolf came barrelling back the way it had come, charging up the drift. If it leaped, it would land on the same branch as Chase, or push him off it to his death amid the crazed pack.

  The wolf bunched its muscles, and Rosa dived to intercept it.

  Paws scrabbled for purchase as it landed on the end of her carpet, claws digging in to the weave. With shaking hands, she nocked an arrow to her bow. At this distance, she couldn't miss.

  The wolf snarled and snapped at her, sending her scuttling back to the trailing edge of the carpet. It lunged, now half on the carpet. If it got its hind legs up, it would kill her for su
re.

  She fired, nocking arrow after arrow as she urged the carpet to buck the beast off.

  She reached for another arrow, just in time to see her quiver roll over the side, out of reach.

  Rosa gripped the sides of the carpet, closing her eyes as she turned the air into a whirlwind. She clung on for dear life as it dipped and spun, desperate to shake the wolf off before it reached her. But the beast's claws were snagged in the carpet – it just wouldn't fall.

  Then something smacked into her head, and she knew nothing.

  Thirty-Four

  Chase watched in horror as the carpet spun crazily between the trees, Rosa and the white wolf clinging to it. If he could only get a clear shot…for he could not risk hitting Rosa.

  There. If the carpet spun one more time…he fired, and had the satisfaction of seeing his arrow sink into the beast's paw, prying it loose from the carpet. The creature fell, hopefully to its death.

  He turned his eyes back to Rosa. She'd slumped facedown on her carpet, which was now falling out of the sky. He raced to catch her, but she fell into a deep drift of snow before he could reach her. Chase didn't stop until he'd dragged her out of the snowdrift and into his arms.

  She was as limp as a corpse, but she still drew breath. She lived.

  But there was blood in her hair from where she'd hit her head. He needed to get her home, where she had that miraculous medicine that had healed him. Hopefully it would heal her, too.

  He glanced around, hoping to see the wolf's body, so he'd know where to come and collect the head in the morning. But his arrows had burned out, and he couldn’t see much. He found a snapped-off pine branch, sticky with pitch, and plunged that into his brazier to use as a makeshift torch.

  Carrying Rosa and the torch was a struggle, but he had to make it home, and there was no other way. Her magic carpet would not fly until she woke, and he had no horse.