Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Brice inclined his head. “Understood.”
Elara’s gaze returned to Dar. “You did not say you intended to leave me in the forest.”
“I also did not say I would take you with me.”
“I could go with you. Listen. Watch.” She lowered her voice. “Perhaps have a vision.”
Dar shook his head once. “Nay. Pratus already showed his interest in you. He will not be given the chance to do so again. And if he did… I would have no choice but to kill him.”
Elara’s brows shot up and her eyes turned wide.
“Need I say it again?” He did anyway. “Hunters protect what is theirs.”
Elara thought it was best to switch subjects. “What if you find this wanderer there?”
“I doubt I will,” Dar said. “My goal is to find out how Pratus addresses the matter so I can determine his intention toward the king. It will also give my men time to pick up the wanderer’s trail.”
She realized then that Dar was on a hunt, Pratus his prey, and that meant there was no changing his mind.
The forest pressed close around them, leaves whispering overhead as if confirming her thoughts.
She nodded once. “Then go. I will wait here.”
Dar stepped closer. His hand took firm hold of her arm. “You will be safe here. Brice will see to it.”
“I am not worried, though I will be impatient for your return. You will be careful and make sure you return to me.”
His eyes held hers for a brief moment, his thumb pressing against her sleeve, more than a simple touch, or the words he could not find to say.
He turned away, mounted his horse, and rode off with the others, the sound of hooves fading into the trees.
She stared after him until she could see him no more, then she went and stood at the base of an ash tree, leaning against it. She closed her eyes briefly, letting its strength seep into her, but it couldn’t relieve her of the unease she felt since waking this morning. It was one of the reasons she wanted to go with him. She worried what danger he might face.
Elara finally bent down near the base of the tree, her fingers brushing aside damp leaves to study what grew beneath it in hopes it would ease her mind.
She was soon lost in scouting the surrounding area to see what she might find. The forest was generous here. Mugwort threaded through the undergrowth, its silvery leaves unmistakable. Nearby, nettle rose in stubborn clusters, thriving where others withered. She catalogued them instinctively—what could be harvested later, what should be left to grow, what might prove useful if need pressed hard.
It steadied her, this quiet work.
Brice stood a short distance away, alert but unobtrusive, his presence more felt than seen. Elara was grateful for the space. For the moment to breathe. To think.
Her fingers paused.
The air shifted.
Not with sound—but with awareness. The sense of being watched slid over her skin, cold and deliberate. She straightened slowly, breath caught somewhere between her chest and throat, as a vision took hold.
Trees parted in her mind’s eye. A man moved through them with practiced care. She recognized him… Roth. His gait was rushed, impatient, and anxious as he was late getting somewhere. He kept to the shadow, eyes sharp, his attention fixed, and then it was as if they fell on her, and he bolted forward.
The vision ended as abruptly as it began.
Elara drew a sudden breath and pressed her palm to a nearby oak tree. Dar had warned her the king would not let them move unobserved. That a banished man would prove a useful tool and be desperate to regain the king’s favor.
So, of course, Roth followed.
Dar would have taken precautions. He never left such things to chance. His men were probably already watching the watcher.
Still… the unease lingered.
She brushed soil from her hands, already forming the words she would say when Dar returned. He needed to know she had seen Roth, not merely suspected, but had seen him in a vision, rushing and anxious.
The sharpness of the voice cut cleanly through the forest hush and her thoughts.
Elara turned.
Brice stood several paces away, his hand resting near his dagger, eyes narrowed past her shoulder.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
Dar didn’t like leaving her. It was his duty to protect his wife and while Brice was a seasoned hunter and skilled warrior, when necessary, he wondered if Hunters had the skills to defend themselves against what was stirring awake in the forest.
He did not want to be gone long. It was the reason he did not slow his horse as the castle came into view.
Calling it a castle was generous. Stone walls, in need of repair, enclosed the compound, and the squat towers were not maintained as well as they should be. While this was no seat of power, it was a regional stronghold for the appointed regional chieftain, built to remind nearby villages of the king’s rule.