Hunting (14 page)

With Arth trying to eat her hair, and
Cloud Cat pulling to the length of her reins in an attempt to
explore, Ash pondered the advisability of adding the pair to the
general picket so she could grab breakfast, but was spared the
decision by Kittihar, who ungraciously thrust a meat-stuffed roll
at her and quickly made off. Should she thank Carlyon's
determination to be correct?

Using her kerchief to wrap half for
later, Ash munched while she watched Rhoi Arun trying to enjoy his
own hunt. Thornaster had told the Rhoi of Karaelsur's possible
presence, and recommended investigation behind a guise of business
as usual, but while Thornaster chatted and mingled the Rhoi a
little too obviously looked around him for a monster.

Ash looked herself, but saw only
people. Marriston running attendance on thin, scholarly Decsel
Enderhay. Lauren Carlyon with a man who could only be his older
brother, Eman. Vendarri talking earnestly with a girl who looked
away from him, while Frog watched and smiled. Which of them? None?
More than one? It could be an alliance of Kinsel, or someone
completely unconnected with the Luinsel. Or Enderhay, the obvious
suspect, though if his reputation was to be believed, the most
unlikely.

When the hunt split, a full third
returning to the Deirhoi District, it was a subdued but still
excited group that headed into the tablelands to the northeast,
where the stag had already been tracked to harbour. Ash, again
keeping to the rear, shivered as the scent-hounds' cry was followed
by the mournful call of a horn. Somewhere ahead, the stag was
hearing that noise. Alerted to dogs and men, it would begin its
run.

This was sport? A day of pleasure,
something to boast of after?

Ash had only once allowed her own
Huntsmen to chase down their prey. One of the skarl – the shadow
wolves of Naggol – had strayed into the Shambles, providing a
problem that couldn't simply be trussed and delivered to the Watch.
That had been a hunt to the death, too dangerous and too wild, and
the exultation and shame of the kill had stayed with Ash for months
afterwards. Only an animal, but it had fought to live. Had
Genevieve remembered every one of her kills? Would Ash feel
pleasure, or only sick, when she flushed her guardian's murderer
from cover, and the chase began in earnest?

The stream of horses curved up into
woods on top of one of the flat hills, and the riders separated
into clusters of two and three, following multiple paths. Ash found
herself suddenly alone. The trees were not close-set, mostly
evergreens surrounded by blankets of needles, and she slowed to a
walk to cross one of Montmoth's inevitable small streams, looking
for movement, her eyes tricking her into seeing hunters in every
direction.

The horn sounded again, and Ash
oriented on it, breaking out of the trees above a dry, grassy
valley. The main body of the hunt was well ahead, but immediately
below was a loose cluster of tabard-clad riders, picking up
speed.

"That's more my kind of chase," she
murmured. "Let's show them what you can do, Cloud Cat."

Cloud Cat needed little encouragement,
bounding down the gentle slope. Kittahar was the laggard of the
group, and Ash and Cloud Cat passed his grey as if he were standing
still. Then came a clump: Marriston, Gibrace, Pelandis and, surging
ahead, Lirindar. They were more of a challenge, but it was the
three frontrunners who were her real difficulty. Carlyon and
Vendarri's mounts, and even Frog's raw-boned bay, all had a fine
turn of speed, enough that Cloud Cat couldn't simply prance past
them. It would be a matter of taking advantage of the terrain,
choosing the best path among the tussocks.

Ash grinned when Vendarri responded to
a glimpse of her by urging his roan to greater efforts. Frog didn't
glance her way, all his attention focused on Carlyon, and
Carlyon...was alight. Low to the withers, eyes bright, lips parted:
for once first seruilis abandoned. Ash laughed at him as she came
abreast, and liked the nod he gave in return even as he urged his
blood bay to greater efforts.

But even in that brief instant, Ash's
eyes had gone beyond Carlyon to a laggard animal well behind, just
faltering down the slope. A palomino, riderless.

In her shock she reined in, scattering
the riders in her wake into confusion as they struggled to avoid
her. An angry, exasperated shout rose, but she'd already turned,
urging Cloud back the way they'd come.

"
Lenthard
!
" Vendarri's
voice, and Marriston's, unified in fury.

"Keep them going, Vendarri!" Carlyon's
shout was cold. "I'll fetch him."

Ash rode, ignoring for the moment the
hoof beats behind her that told her that Carlyon was in pursuit,
searching instead for the riderless horse. And there he was,
limping through a scatter of saplings. She dropped down a pace so
that Carlyon could draw up to her, and reflected that anger
improved him more than was fair.

Before he was close enough to speak,
she pointed to the palomino. "It's the Veirhoi's horse, isn't it?
Heran's horse?"

Her expression probably got through to
him more than her words. He followed the line of her finger, then
slewed in his saddle and stared back at the seruilisi, who lingered
in a disordered mass. The Veirhoi was noticeably absent.

Grey-faced, Carlyon gestured to
Vendarri, a 'follow' signal, then urged his blood bay forward. They
intercepted the palomino, bracketing him between them to bring him
to a stop. Foam-flecked, covered in scratches, and clearly
lamed.

Ash dismounted as Carlyon snatched the
trailing reins, but before she could speak a thicker line marring
the fine gold coat caught her eye.

"Carlyon." She pressed fingers high on
the palomino's left hind leg and lifted them away red.

"What?"

"I think he's been shot."

Chapter Fourteen

Carlyon dropped the foreleg he had been
examining, ducked under the palomino's head and stopped short,
staring at the telltale line.

"A score mark," he breathed. "A graze,
but the shock must have driven him beyond Heran's control. If he
hadn't an arrow in him as well. How could I not have
noticed?
"

"It must have been when we all split
up," Ash said, glancing towards the rapidly closing cluster of
seruilisi. "There were a few slow riders behind us, weren't there?
It wasn't just the seruilisi?"

He stared at her, then abruptly took
command of himself. "Only a few." He frowned at the slowly oozing
wound and at the rapidly approaching seruilisi. "There's no way to
hide this from them. Blast.
Blast
it all."

Not sure why they wanted to hide it,
Ash turned to Cloud Cat, stroking her neck to soothe the mare
before extracting her kerchief from the remainder of her lunch and
wadding the cloth against the palomino's side. The gelding
flinched, but had spent himself and only hung his head again, sides
heaving.

"He's got plenty of other scratches,"
she told Carlyon, as the rest of the seruilisi reached them. "This
is just a big one. He must have run madly."

Carlyon's hazel eyes met hers,
measuring and judging, then he handed her the palomino's reins.

"Vendarri!" he said, as the dark-haired
youth practically leapt from the saddle. "Per's thrown the
Veirhoi." He gazed up the pines at the top of the slope. "We'll
have to set up a full-scale search. How winded is Nerance? Do you
think you can intercept the main body of the hunt?"

Vendarri nodded and was back on his
horse in an instant. "I heard the horn sound for the kill, so
they'll have stopped," he said, breathlessly. "I'll be as quick as
I can."

Carlyon turned from his retreating
figure immediately, studying the rest of his shocked audience.
"Lirindar," he said, decisively. "Can you locate the point where we
emerged?"

The boy nodded, face grim.

"Good. There's no guarantee that Per
didn't career off in some other direction, but we can use it as a
starting-point. We have to do this systematically or we could miss
him. Gibrace, you stay here with Lenthard, see if there's anything
you can do for Per. He's badly lame and completely cut-up." A
glance at Ash told her that Gibrace was allowed to see the
wound.

"We're wasting time here talking,
Carlyon," fretted Frog, no cheer at all on his worried face.

"Then we won't waste any more," Carlyon
replied, mounting and gesturing to Lirindar, who apparently had a
keen sense of place, leading them directly to the spot they had
emerged.

Ash watched them go in silence. She had
failed the task Thornaster had set her. Now it was a matter of
learning how badly.

ooOoo

Gibrace muttered darkly when he saw the
arrow wound, but didn't speak to Ash, turning instead to carefully
examine the hoof the palomino was favouring. He found and removed a
stone, then turned his attention to the swelling bruise that
decorated the front of the other foreleg. Ash handed him some salve
from her saddlebags, which he took automatically and, after
smelling it, began to apply to the leg. Obviously someone who knew
horses.

They moved to the long, still-bleeding
score next. Ash washed it clean with water from her canteen. "D'you
have a needle?" she asked.

The other seruilis shook his head.
"Keeper will. Leave it to them."

She nodded. "It'll scar," she said,
sparing a moment's regret for the palomino's fine coat, then gazing
along the valley. Had Vendarri reached the hunt? All she could see
was distant trees.

"He loves this horse," Gibrace said.
They glanced at each other and away. Loves or loved?

"When did you last see him?" she
asked.

"Before we went into the trees up
there."

"Same here." Ash distinctly remembered
seeing two black tabards, but had been so caught up in the chase
she hadn't even noticed the absence when she reached the valley.
She stared up to where Carlyon stood marking the entry point,
obviously foregoing his own desire to search in order to
coordinate, and tried to estimate the area they had to cover. The
hill formed a long rectangle, and they had crossed the breadth. She
had moved over it at a slow trot. How far could Per make at a
gallop?

"Here they come," Gibrace said, as a
small clump of riders emerged in the distance, tardily followed by
the larger assembly. The advance group was moving fast, the Rhoi in
lead. His palomino was a match for Heran's.

Carlyon rode down to meet them and,
after the briefest of explanations, the small group broke into two.
Ash nodded in approval. Time for more questions later, once the
search was underway. The hunt caught up, swirled for a time around
the little knot of lead riders, and was swiftly broken into search
parties. Soon only five riders remained. The Rhoi, Thornaster, one
of the Guard, Hawkmarten and Carlyon. They turned and headed for
where Ash and Gibrace waited with Heran's palomino, Carlyon in the
lead.

She studied their faces as they neared.
Grim, grim and grim. But not angry. They didn't know, yet.

"What is it you need to show me,
Lauren?" the Rhoi asked as they dismounted. "Ah, Per, you've lamed
yourself have you? Damn, I'd never have thought he'd throw Heran.
He has the gentlest temperament."

"It's...his leg, Ser Rhoi," Carlyon
said and the three seruilisi waited as the older riders circled the
palomino. Ash removed the bloodstained cloth from the animal's side
and heard the Guardsman's breath hiss through his teeth.

"Arrow shot?" the Rhoi said, in
complete disbelief. "
Arrow shot
?!
Someone
shot
Heran?"

"We're the only ones who've seen that,"
Carlyon said. He had almost managed to revert to the perfect first
seruilis, but there was a blackness to his eyes. "I told them Per
had bolted, lamed and scratched himself up, but nothing else."

"That was well done," Thornaster said,
while the Rhoi spent a moment longer staring at the red line on the
palomino's coat.

Carlyon shook his head. "I hadn't even
noticed his
absence
."

There was anger in the Rhoi's eyes now,
but not directed at his seruilis. "Lauren, this falls at the feet
of the one who loosed that arrow, not you," he said. "I will not
hear you blaming yourself again. Do you understand me?"

Carlyon nodded.

"Gibrace, isn't it?" the Rhoi said,
looking at the green and russet-clad youth. "I commend Per into
your care. Dashelk, go with him back to the palace. See that that
wound remains hidden."

"Yes, Ser Rhoi."

"Who, other than the seruilisi, was in
the tail of the hunt, Lauren?" the Rhoi asked.

The black-clad youth replied with a
half-dozen names.

"And who among the seruilisi was
carrying a bow?"

Gently said, but Carlyon's face still
pinched. "Myself," he replied, quietly. "Lirindar, Marriston,
Vicardie, Gibrace, Vendarri."

"I see. Well, for now the best thing we
can do is join the search. Farpatten will assign us a section."

Ash was assigned a sweep along the
southern half of the search area, and rode in as nearly straight a
line as possible through the loosely placed trees. The long, flat
top of the hill rose toward this southern end, and there was more
undergrowth: mostly morrion bushes thick with dagger-like thorns.
No wonder Per had been so scratched up.

Carlyon rode parallel, some fifteen
feet to her left, with Hawkmarten the same distance to her right.
Ash glanced at them only occasionally, her attention for every
shadow and hollow. No sign of a black-clad boy. At last they
reached the southern border of the hill. Before her was a vista of
green land, dark trees and Montmoth's numerous mountains, but most
immediately an unpleasantly long drop. This was no negotiable
slope. Falling water muffled the sound of the other riders in the
line emerging.