Ever the Hunted (Clash of Kingdoms #1)(13)

I suggest we take cover and wait for the animals that will surely be making use of the game trail, since the rain has stopped. Thankfully, Tomas agrees.

Hardly any time passes before the soft pad of the fawn sounds. I hope she’s not alone and she’s come with a bigger kill. Only, that’s not the case.

The thought of killing her doesn’t sit right with me, but I consider the situation. She wouldn’t be alone unless her mother was dead. Winter’s approaching. Without a caregiver, the fawn has little chance, so perhaps a kill is a reasonable choice.

The twang of a bow—?

A sudden slice of air—?

And the choice is stolen.

A horrible bawl breaks from the animal’s mouth as it jumps once and kicks its back legs before darting away. Beside me, Tomas fumbles for another arrow.

“Stop!” I screech. “What have you done?”

He’s not looking at me, so I swipe my dagger from his belt and start for the tortured fawn to end the animal’s life.

Tomas crashes through the brush, chasing. “Did ya forget how to hunt?”

The entire forest rattles around me. I blink once and then realize the motion is coming from me, shaking with anger and sorrow as I focus on the gleaming red trail.

“Please stay here,” I beg Tomas.

He opens his mouth to argue.

“You’re too noisy. She’ll hear you coming and keep running. If you want to eat before tomorrow, please stop. I’ll finish the job.”

Resentment flares in his eyes. But he stays.

Daylight is on its way out when I spot the fawn bedded in the grasses. Fear and pain waft from her like smoke from a fire. At the sight of the arrow protruding from her guts and the blood gathering beneath her, shame floods me.

This isn’t how I do things. Torture is never how I kill.

I should slit her neck. But my approach would need to be slow and all the while she’d be suffering. I draw an arrow, ready my bow, and shoot the fawn in the neck.

A gush of blood spills across the forest floor—?it’s a hit to the jugular.

My insides are coated in brackish water, and all I smell is the tang of blood everywhere as I kneel beside her.

“You’re pathetic.” I look up to find Tomas leering over me. “They said you’re the best tracker and hunter in Malam. You’re nothing but a weepy girl.”

It takes every ounce of control not to notch one more arrow. There’s nothing I can say to Tomas that’ll release my fury or grief. Without a word, I tear into the woods, leaving him.

I wander through the firs, shooting off the remaining arrows. Each one nails a target and releases a little of my frustration and anger and guilt. I aim and release, until my anger fades away. I’m not absent long. I plan to reach camp about the same time Tomas does, since he’ll need to field dress the kill. Except when I return, Tomas is already there.

Captain Omar sheathes his sword with a ringing slap. “Where. Have. You. Been?”

I flinch. The angles in the captain’s face are drawn tight. He passes Leif, taking long, purposeful strides to reach me. It was a mistake to leave Tomas. A massive one.

The captain’s eyes widen, showing too much whites. “You were told to stay with Tomas.” He draws in a breath through his nose and expels it with a puff. “If you’re unable to fulfill the bargain made with Lord Jamis, you forfeit your life. Do. You. Understand?”

I can barely get it out: “Yes, sir.”

“You directly defied me. There are consequences for disobedience.”

Leif works the manacles and rope around a nearby trunk and takes my bow and quiver. I’m too unnerved to tell him about the dagger in my boot as he gently pulls my hands in front of me and fixes the iron cuffs on my wrists.

He squeezes my arm and gives me a mixed look—?alarm, regret, distress. Then he mouths, “Be strong,” reminding me of Papa’s advice.

“Ten lashes,” the captain says. My only warning.

The whip strikes.

I cry out, unable to hold it in, and stumble against the trunk. The pain and fire and stinging are merciless. Strong as the trees, Papa’s voice echoes over shallow breaths. I imagine he’s with me when I lock my knees, shut my eyes, drag air between clenched teeth. I imagine I’m stronger than the crumbling girl tied to the tree.

The second lash hits.





Chapter

6


AFTER THE FOURTH LASH, I FALL TO MY KNEES, nearly unconscious from the agony. After the fifth, the captain stops. “You deserve more, but you have a job to do,” Captain Omar says. “Step out of line again, and you’ll get your just due.”



The throbbing in my back is consuming, the pain too raw to think of anything else.

“It needs cleaning.” Leif’s voice pulls me back to where we sit beside a stream. He’s holding a wet rag in one hand and an herbal balm in the other. I extend my hand, even though the small movement has me wincing and gasping for breath.

“You won’t be able to reach,” he says. “I can help.”

I blink. Surely he’s not suggesting I lift my top and let him wash my bare skin. I may not know much about social interaction or friendships, but exposing myself seems inappropriate.

“I won’t look. You don’t have to worry about me.” The tips of his ears are redder than autumn leaves. Well, then, I was wrong. I try to grasp my ripped tunic and end up hissing while spots burst in my vision.