The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(53)
“But why would he be here if he doesn’t want to marry?” she asked.
Caitrin blinked at her as if it were obvious. “Marrying a princess is something different altogether.” The maid gave the princess’s hand a brief, consoling pat, and left her to put away the brush.
“Hm.” Aerity looked out of the window, suddenly sad.
Together the cousins stared down at the men in the commons, tending to their weapons and bending over maps. When Paxton entered through the gates, Aerity held her breath. He still wore the leather strap in his hair, but some shorter strands had escaped and now framed his face. She felt Wyneth look up at her, but she kept her eyes on the man below—a stranger by all accounts. How could he cause so many emotions to tumble through her?
“I know Paxton is your first choice,” Wyneth said. “But what of the others? Have any of the other men caught your fancy?” The question felt somehow . . . loaded.
Aerity watched Paxton walk toward the tents, out of sight, and she relaxed. “No.”
“None of them at all?” Wyneth prodded.
“No,” she said again. “None like Paxton.” She felt a fool. She really should not let herself grow attached to the idea of one of these men. If another killed the beast, it would make her future marriage all the harder.
Wyneth chewed her lip. Aerity would have brought up the fact that she suspected one of the hunters fancied Wyneth, but mentioning Lord Lief Alvi could become awkward. Aerity didn’t think Wyneth was ready to consider other men, anyhow. The princess shifted uncomfortably at the idea of marrying a man who liked her cousin better, regardless of whether Wyneth returned the man’s sentiments or not. She couldn’t fathom having that sort of strain in her life.
“I find the younger Seabolt to be quite pleasing to the eye,” Caitrin said. “The two of you would have the sweetest wee ones ever born.”
Aerity smiled a little, but it was fleeting. “Tiern is kind and handsome.” She’d prefer to feel passionate about someone such as him, someone good for her, but apparently life did not work that way. At least not for her. And what did it matter who she fancied? She would not get to choose.
The great beast had stolen that privilege from her.
Chapter
26
A late autumn sun beamed down on the hunters as they peered at the map. All traces of fog and rain had burned away, leaving behind mud and dampness everywhere. Paxton wiped a drip of sweat from his brow and bit his tongue for the umpteenth time as Volgan mentioned separating from Paxton and his men.
“We’re down to only six Lochlans,” Lieutenant Harrison began.
“Not our fault your men bowed out like cowards!” Volgan bellowed. “Your lot can join forces with the few remaining Zorfinans.”
Their arguing voices were interrupted by the sounds of shuffling feet and murmuring voices drifting from the gates. Lief Alvi and Paxton met eyes and the lord quieted his men with a raised hand. Together they looked toward the gates.
A group of men stood there, Lochlan fishermen, based on their cotton tunics and hair of browns and reds, some with leather aprons to protect them while scaling and gutting. In their hands they held gaffing hooks, rough boards, and large sticks. Two guards shook their heads, as if forbidding entrance to the men. Paxton moved forward with Tiern close on his heels.
“What’s going on?” he asked a guard through the iron bars and vine.
“These men wish to have a word with you lot, but they’re armed.”
“To protect ourselves against the beast!” one of the fishermen yelled. “Not to use against the hunters.”
“We’re here to help!” another shouted.
Paxton felt his eyebrows go up. “You wish to help?”
A man with great girth and a filthy apron pushed his way to the front and grabbed the bars with both hands, pressing his face to the opening. “We’ve heard the beast can take to the water. We can help you trap the thing. We’ll line the waterways with our boats. Maybe it’ll deter it. Maybe it won’t, but we’re tired of hiding. We got the message and we’ve come. Our older boys and some of our wives will take to high trees with horns.”
“The curfew has only been lifted for men,” began one of the guards. “It’s still instated for youth, women, and children—” began another guard, but a villager cut him off.
“The beast killed my wife’s brother! It’s attacking us in our own homes and we won’t stand it any longer!”
The men let out a roar of cries, raising their makeshift weapons.
“This could be brilliant,” Tiern whispered behind him.
Paxton nodded. Lord Alvi stepped up beside him and spoke to the guards. “Let them in, and send one of your men to oversee the conversation. Take news to the king that some townspeople and their youth will not be adhering to the curfew.” Paxton nearly laughed at the looks of shock the guards gave one another. He wondered if they would dare to argue with the Ascomannian lord. In the end, Lief did not give them the chance. He simply cocked his blond head toward the maps and barreled on. “Come, we have much to discuss before tonight’s hunt.”
They set off at dusk, Paxton and his three fellow Lochlans, seven Zorfinans, and twenty-odd Ascomannians. The wealthy Lochlan hunters had pulled out of the hunt after their friend was carried off in the beast’s mouth, and the parents of the two younger lads came to cart them back home to relative safety, much against their wishes.