Ash (20 page)

Lore looked at Ash and asked, “Have you hunted before?”

Ash glanced at Kaisa for guidance, but the huntress gave her no indication of what to say. “This is my first hunt,” Ash finally answered.

Before Lore could respond, a thin, wiry man with a shock of red hair came into the marquee, and the man at the other end of the table stood up and said, “At last! We’ve been waiting for you al morning. I’m eager to begin.”

“The stag moved farther than we expected, Your Highness,”

said the new arrival, and Ash realized that the man with the 168

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scar was Prince Aidan. She had expected someone much more elegant; this man wore black riding leathers and a black shirt that looked as if it had seen better days. The scar gave a warlike cast to his features, and Ash was surprised that her stepsisters had found him handsome.

The lymer came toward Kaisa and pointed to a spot on the map just off one of the thinly marked trails that disappeared in the north. “It’s a grand one,” he said. “He’ll give us a good chase.” He had found the stag about an hour’s walk north of where they were camped, and he had marked the path to show them the way back.

“Good,” said Kaisa. “Lore, please call everyone together so that we can begin.”

Outside, the dogs were being gathered together by the mas-ter of hounds, and as Ash walked with Kaisa and the prince toward the hunting horses, Ash asked, “Will all the dogs be used today? There are so many.”

“The first relay of dogs wil rouse the stag,” Kaisa explained.

“But the dogs wil tire before the stag does, so we place additional relays of dogs along the trail to take over when the others are winded.”

“But how do you know where to send the dogs before the stag runs?” Ash asked.

“We don’t, exactly. But we’ll try to chase him in a particular direction, and at any rate, the stag wil likely run straight, down the most direct path.”

Kaisa paused before going toward her horse and said to Ash, “You are welcome to ride with me, but I cannot wait for you.”

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“I’l keep up,” Ash said. Kaisa was different this morning than she had been on their rides together. She was more forceful, yet more withdrawn. Over the summer she had been relaxed, easy; now she was more upright, somehow, as if the office of the King’s Huntress made her stand tal er.

And it was the King’s Huntress who nodded to Ash and said before walking away, “I am sure you will ride well.” Her words contained a confidence that made Ash feel an unexpected thrill of pride, for of course, Kaisa herself had taught her.

Saerla was eager to begin, and when Ash mounted, she could feel the mare’s taut energy beneath her. She saw Kaisa raise her gloved hand and signal to the pennant bearer, and the hunters fel in line behind her as they rode out of the camp.

Ahead of them Ash could see the lymer and his dogs running forward at an easy pace, their spotted coats of black and brown on white like sunlight dappling the ground through the foliage.

They rode for the better part of an hour, until Kaisa halted them al to al ow the lymer to go ahead on his own. Everyone was sitting forward now, tense and silent, and Ash felt the breeze on her skin bring a rush of blood to the surface. She was nervous.

When they heard the notes of the hunting horn, Kaisa shouted at them to follow, and the hunters plunged forward through the trees with Kaisa in the lead. Ash felt Saerla’s muscles bunch and stretch as they rode hard toward the sound of the horn, and though she had wondered if she would be afraid, she was not. She felt the thril of the hunt coursing through her that morning with a sharp, bright focus, and al there was, was 170

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the ride itself muscle and bone moving together, the wind snapping her cloak back, and the ground rolling past her as they went deeper into the Wood. When Ash looked ahead she saw a blur of green tunics and horseflesh moving through the trees, and there was Lore, her horse’s black tail flying. Then she saw the dogs again and they were racing after the stag, his brown flanks flashing between the trunks. She recognized the way the stag sprinted through the trees as if it had been painted in a storybook. He would double back on his path and attempt to lose them in the river, and then the second relay of hounds would scent him out and once again plunge into the chase.

At the riverbank the stag splashed in the shal ows but the river was too wide at this point for him to wade across, and with a wild look in his eyes he clambered up the bank away from the pursuing dogs, and Ash could see the white froth of sweat rising on his flanks. He was becoming tired, and Ash thought that he would not run for much longer. But once back under the shade of the trees the stag regained his momen-tum—or found a new desire to live—and the chase was re-newed with vigor. Ash recognized the trails they were following; despite the time they had been riding they had not gone far, and it seemed that the stag had fled in circles. But she was surprised when she saw they were nearing the edge of the Wood, and the stag leapt ahead of them into the open meadow where, in the far distance, she saw Quinn House. The perspec-tive was different, though; they had emerged from the trees south of where she normal y entered the Wood. And then ahead of her, Kaisa had ridden up to the stag with her arm 171

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extended and there was a flash of steel—and then red streaked down the stag’s throat. It let out a cry that ended abruptly when Kaisa plunged the sword—for it was a sword she held up in the sun—down behind the front left leg and into the heart of the stag, and it fel onto the fading grass of the meadow, its magnificent rack of antlers lolling onto the ground like the weight of its life, spent.

Kaisa slid off her horse and went to the stag and pul ed her sword free, and the stag’s body shuddered once more. She knelt down near it and put her free hand on the stag’s great head, touching it with a gentle hand, and closed her eyes and whispered something that Ash could not hear. Then she stood up and, with her sword, slit the bel y of the stag open from its throat to its tail, and blood and innards spil ed out into the midafternoon sun. She cut across the breast as wel , and then from the vent up the inside of each of the stag’s rear legs, and from within the mess that extruded from its belly Kaisa cut out the warm liver. She sliced off a generous portion and gave it to the lead bloodhound who was waiting patiently near the head of the fal en stag. The hound took it with a growl of appreciation, his teeth sinking deep into the flesh of the animal he had chased. Kaisa cut off another smal piece of the liver and held it up in a bloody hand for the prince, who dismounted from his horse and knelt down on the ground before the huntress.

She placed the flesh in his mouth, her fingers streaking dark red over his lips, and she marked his cheeks as wel with crimson slashes.

Then the prince stood and turned to the hunting party that had circled around them and said, “Let us al celebrate our 172

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success today!” He took the wineskin handed to him by the lymer and drank deeply, and a trickle of red wine slid down his throat, darker than the bright splashes of blood on his skin.

The hunters let out a cheer, and Ash watched as Kaisa turned her back on them and wiped her sword off on the meadow grass. As the other riders dismounted and began to pass around the wineskin, Ash went to Kaisa, who stil stood with her back turned to the others. She put a hand on the huntress’s shoulder and asked, “Is everything as it should be?”

There were tears in Kaisa’s eyes, and they ran down her cheeks as she answered, “Yes.” Ash looked back at the carcass of the stag, and saw that the dogs were being held off now, and one of the men was approaching with his kit of knives to begin the butchering.

“Why do you do this if it affects you so?” asked Ash.

Kaisa looked down at the ground and said, “It is the way of life. It ends.”

Then Lore was standing beside her and said, “Come, let us drink to our success.” She handed Ash the wineskin and Ash took a drink, and it was the taste of ripened grapes in the sunlight. When she swal owed, it coursed down her throat in a thick warm rush, and then she handed the wineskin to Kaisa, who took it and drank as wel .

Ash asked, “What happens now?”

Lore answered, “The stag wil be flayed and the carcass divided up, and then we’l head back to camp.”

Kaisa smiled and said, “There wil be a great celebration.”

Lore laughed. “Indeed.”

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Chapter XV

y the time they were ready to
ride back to camp, with the stag’s carcass butchered and packed onto a cart, the B sun was hanging low in the sky. The wine had made Ash feel woozy, and as they rode through the Wood the trees seemed to blur, as if the whole forest were melting into one great swath of dark green. From time to time Ash thought she saw the air split apart as if torn by an unseen hand, and within that secret space was the oldest land of al . As they neared the camp they passed torches planted upright on tal poles in the ground, and the burning flames steadily drove back those twilight shadows, leaving only the darkening Wood and the rising sound of laughter.

While they had been hunting, the guests that would attend that evening’s celebration had arrived, and as the Royal Hunt rode into the clearing, a cheer arose from the crowd that had gathered along the path. Each of the marquees had been 174

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turned into a wel -appointed waiting room furnished with rugs and chairs and pil ows for those who had come to dine and to dance that night. The hunters gathered in a semicircle facing what was now a central avenue leading toward the grand pavilion, and Prince Aidan and Kaisa went forward to meet the King and Queen, bowing deeply to them. Then Kaisa turned to an attendant behind her and gestured for him to bring the stag’s head, which was wrapped in a dark green cloth. She took it by the antlers and laid it on the ground at the foot of the King, and when she removed the green cloth the crowd gasped, for the head was an eerie sight in the torchlight.

The King reached out and grasped Kaisa’s shoulder and said, “Wel done,” and she bowed her head to him. Then he said to al who were gathered: “We shal celebrate tonight’s success with a great feast. But we shal also celebrate my son’s decision that by the time this year has come to a close, he wil have chosen a bride.” The crowd shifted excitedly when the King said this, and Prince Aidan came to stand beside his father and mother.

“Beginning tonight,” the King continued, “Prince Aidan shal search for a lady worthy of becoming his wife. We shal invite every eligible young woman to join us at a grand bal on Souls Night to deliver her suit to the prince, and by the time of the Yule celebrations, he wil have made his decision.”

The crowd burst into whispered conversation until Queen Melisande, her golden hair swept up beneath a jeweled coro-net, raised her hand to quiet them. She stepped forward and took the arm of her son, whose face, with the marks of the stag’s blood like dark slashes in his cheeks, was downcast.

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“Now, ladies,” the Queen began in a voice accented with the round vowels of a Concordian, “please be advised that my son shal not be choosing only based on beauty, for I am sure that every young woman here tonight is beautiful enough to win his heart.” Laughter twittered through the gathered crowd, and the Queen continued, “He must make a good match for this country, as wel . He has told me that he wishes to take a bride from his own land, even though I have urged him to choose one of my own countrywomen.” The Queen frowned at her son, who gave her a weak smile.

“But Aidan has always been a stubborn boy and has grown into an even more stubborn man,” said the Queen, “and so it is with a mother’s loving heart that I bow to his wishes. I trust that my son wil choose wisely and well.”

Prince Aidan leaned toward his mother and kissed her on the cheek, and though she could not be sure, Ash did not think that he seemed particularly thril ed by his parents’ announcement.

After the horses had been watered and fed, Ash joined the rest of the Royal Hunt as they made their way toward the pavilion, where Kaisa had gone ahead with the royal family. Ash walked with Lore up the avenue, and Lore said to her, “You rode wel today.”

“Thank you,” Ash said, nonplussed, for Lore had not seemed to be particularly interested in befriending her.

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“I admit I was surprised,” said the apprentice, grinning at her.

“Why?” asked Ash.

“You said that you had never ridden in a hunt before,” Lore said.

“I have been . . . practicing,” Ash said.

Lore nodded. “Kaisa told me.”

“She did?”

“She spent much more time here last summer than she has before,” Lore said. “I wondered what was keeping her occu-pied.”

Ash looked at the apprentice, unsure of how to interpret the slightly teasing tone in her voice, but Lore had turned her face away, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

During the hunt, the pavilion had been transformed into a great bal room. The forest floor had been carpeted in rugs of dark brown patterned with leaves of gold, and at the north end of the pavilion a dais had been raised, upon which rested a long table covered in creamy linen. At the center of the table were two massive, carved oak chairs, and the King and Queen were seated there. To their left was Prince Aidan and his younger brother, Prince Hugh, and to their right was Kaisa.