The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(67)

“Knife!” Tiern shouted.

Paxton brought the crown of his head down against Volgan’s already-smashed nose. As the Ascomannian howled, Paxton reached for the man’s wrist, which held a curved blade. But before he could get a good grip, Volgan lurched to the side and pulled his arm in, slicing through Paxton’s palm. He yelled as a violent sting wrenched through him, and he clasped his hand closed around the injury.

Paxton hovered above the man, raising his fist, and before he could swing, his arms were grabbed and pulled from behind. He kicked out and caught Volgan’s hip with his boot as he was yanked backward. Volgan rolled away, wincing with pain. It took four guards to pull Paxton off and hold him. Once he calmed, they lifted him to his feet. Lord Lief Alvi stood beside them with his arms crossed over his wide, bare chest.

“Finally had it out? Good. Took you both long enough.” He gave Paxton a wink and turned, his men following as he walked away. Volgan sat up, glowering at Paxton through his purpled eyes, spitting blood onto the grass.

Paxton looked down the narrow path, thankful his parents weren’t in sight. Paxton pulled himself from the grip of the guards. As his breathing settled, he became aware of the bruises and cuts across his flesh.

“You’re bleeding,” Tiern said to Paxton as one of the guards led Volgan away, toward the castle.

“I’ll take you to the infirmary,” a guard told him.

Paxton’s hand was clenched around the cut, but blood seeped through. This was no small wound. He wished he had the power to heal himself, but the magic didn’t work that way.

“I’ll tend to it myself.” He reached down for his bag with his good hand, but Tiern batted his arm back, making Paxton hiss.

“Don’t be so damned stubborn!” Tiern lowered his voice and moved close. “You’re bleeding everywhere. Just do this one last thing to ease my mind, and I swear I won’t ask you to stay again. I can’t let you leave here like this. You’ll get a fever or something worse—”

“Fine.” At this one word, Tiern seemed to relax.

Paxton’s hand was throbbing. The lack of sleep and physical trials of the past day and a half were finally catching up with him. He felt as if he could sleep for days. Maybe he would once he found a safe destination for himself. Once this cut stopped stinging, he’d be ready to go. He looked at the nearest guard, and said, “May I be taken to Mrs. Rathbrook?”

The young guard lifted an eyebrow and leaned closer where no one could hear. “You sure you want the Rocato touch? The castle has a regular healer who can sew that up and give you herbs for the pain if you—”

“No.” Paxton’s chest flamed with anger as he bit out, “Mrs. Rathbrook healed me before, and as you can see I survived just fine. She’s no one to fear. She’s not Rocato.”

The guard gave a “suit yourself” shrug, and Paxton’s fists itched to punch again. He let himself be led to the one place in Eurona where he did not wish to be while his fingers were marked—the castle. The place where the one person in Lochlanach lived whom Paxton’s mind and heart could not handle—the princess.











Chapter


32


Princess Aerity heard the commotion through the closed window of her studies room. Her teacher frowned at the disruption. He was already grumpy after having to postpone their lesson to late afternoon. But it was hard to concentrate when the men were shouting outside. Her heartbeat quickened as she began scribbling the last lines of her Eurona trade composition. She pushed it hastily toward her teacher and stood.

“Here you are, Professor. I’m sorry again for the delay today.” She grabbed her shoulder bag and rushed from the room.

When Aerity reached the great doorway to the commons, a guard held out his arm. “I’m sorry, Princess, but tensions are high among the hunters at the moment. I can’t let you go out there.”

“What’s going on?” she asked, trying to peer past him.

“Just a scuffle. It’s under control now.”

“Hm.” Aerity moved into the side study room, an old library with shelves upon shelves of rare editions only a scholar could appreciate. She went to the window and saw two hunters being led toward the castle, surrounded by guards. She could have sworn the bowed head among them was Paxton’s. Aerity rushed back to the doorway of the study and peeked through the crack as the men were led in: one of the gruffer Ascomannians, bloodied and swollen, followed by Paxton, his hands in loose fists, his hair a mess of brown waves around his face.

A flash of vivid red covering Paxton’s closed hand caught Aerity’s eye, turning her stomach. Another injury. This one from a fight. She waited until the men had all passed, then followed them quickly down the hall. Droplets of blood trailed the floor in their wake. A maid was already at the entrance of the hall, rag in hand.

Around the first corner, Wyneth and Lady Ashley stood arm in arm as the men passed. Wyneth kissed her mother’s cheek and then went straight to Aerity’s side, taking her arm instead as her mother went toward the High Hall.

“What happened?” Wyneth whispered.

“I believe Paxton and one of the Ascomannians had a fight.”

Wyneth sighed and shook her head.

“Will you do me a favor?” Aerity asked. “Will you go to the men and find out what happened for me?”