The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(34)
Harrison and Samuel approached, nodding their greeting as they joined the conversation.
Together, the men plotted the best areas for each of the four groups to scout that evening. They decided to hunt in a slightly closer range, rather than spreading out as they had the night before. This would give them an opportunity to give chase to the beast, from group to group, possibly keeping it in their sights.
Once everything was decided, they called over the leaders of the Zorfinan and Kalorian groups and explained the plan. All were in agreement. With that, Paxton and Tiern retired to their small tent in the corner of the commons and slept deeply, garnering energy for what was to come.
Raised voices of their fellow hunters woke the brothers. They jumped from their cots, running out to see what was happening. The men were grouped, surrounded by guards, and as the brothers got nearer, Paxton noticed four new hunters standing in the middle, tall and proud in fitted black outerwear with black head scarves wound about their faces. Wicked bows made of animal’s antlers were slung across their backs.
“. . . not hunting with women,” Paxton heard Volgan grumble loudly. His eyes went back to the newcomers, to their high cheekbones and long lashes against dark skin.
In a flash, one of the women stepped forward and whipped out her bow, nocking her arrow and stretching it back just inches from Volgan’s nose. Her stance was strong. Paxton felt his eyes go as wide as Volgan’s, who had lifted his palms in surrender. That man hadn’t made any friends on this hunt. A hush ran through the hunters.
“Zandalee hunt,” the woman said in a thick accent.
“Whoa,” Tiern whispered, matching Paxton’s astonishment.
The Zandalee women were famous throughout Eurona but were spoken of as if mythical—a matriarchal tribe in southern Zorfina between the desert and the sea, bordering Kalor. A tribe where the women ruled. When Lochlan women were feisty, the men often joked that they were going Zandalee. But these women were nothing to joke about. They looked as if they could snap a man’s neck with their bare hands.
“Easy now,” said one of the guards. “Lower your weapon.”
The woman grunted out a word Paxton couldn’t understand. Then, slowly, she took her bow fromVolgan’s pale face, scowling at him.
“Everyone step back so we can figure this out.” The guards pushed their way in and faced the four women. The main guard hesitated, as if he didn’t quite know what to say. Then he lamely asked, “Eh, what can we do for you?”
“Zandalee hunt,” the woman repeated in a solid voice.
“Zandalee?” Asked the guard. “Are you saying you are a Zandalee? And you want to hunt?”
“Speak Zorfina.” She rolled the r harshly, making her sound even tougher.
The guard massaged the back of his neck and looked toward the male Zorfinan hunters. They shook their heads and stepped back as if they wanted nothing to do with the Zandalee women. The guard spoke to another guard over his shoulder. “Go to the castle and find someone who can interpret Zorfinan.”
Awkward minutes passed in which the male hunters stared down the female hunters, some whispering, as the women stared back with challenge in their eyes. Tiern gave Paxton an awestruck look as if enjoying the show.
Moments later, Paxton was surprised to see Princess Aerity return with an older officer at her side, flanked by guards. Her eyes went to the women with curiosity.
“Eh, Princess,” said the guard. “These women . . . I believe they wish to join the hunt, but . . .”
Aerity’s eyebrows went up as she moved forward. Guards pressed around her, forcing the male hunters to step away. Aerity spoke to the women in Zorfinan, accentuating the inflections, surprising Paxton with her level of fluency. She looked so petite standing there, conversing with an upward tilt of her head. A smile of admiration split her face and she turned back to the officer.
“These are women of the Zandalee, truly! They’ve sent their strongest hunters—isn’t this brilliant?” The man’s eyebrows shot up as he eyed the women in disbelief.
After several minutes of conversing, the princess nodded and turned to the hunters. “Right.” She cleared her throat. “The Zandalee will join the hunt. If one of them kills the beast, the brother of their head huntress, Zandora”—she motioned toward the woman she spoke with—“will collect the . . . reward on her behalf.” Once again the princess cleared her throat. Hunters muttered to one another under their breath.
“Wait just a moment.” The officer frowned. “Your Highness, I think we should discuss this with your father—”
“There is nothing to discuss,” Aerity snapped. “They are brave enough to join the hunt, so they shall hunt. I have accepted their terms. It is done, and I will alert the king.” She lifted her skirts in her fists and shared a nod with the Zandalee huntress, then kept her eyes firmly ahead as she marched away. The guards quickly followed, leaving the hunters gaping in shock. Paxton grudgingly admired the princess’s open acceptance of the unorthodox agreement.
Zandora’s gaze scouted the males as they all slowly retreated into their respective tented areas, whispering their dismay and casting backward looks.
Paxton, Tiern, Samuel, and Harrison stood there glancing around at one another before moving forward to the women. The Lochlan men stood eye to eye with the Zandalee women, who were a strange mix of feminine features and rough edges. They wore a stretchy sort of black cloth belted around their narrow waists, with head coverings that hid their hair and necks. They appeared as warriors, in contrast to the male hunters from other tribes of Zorfina who wore browns and tans to blend with desert sands.