The Seabolt brothers grabbed turkey legs and slices of hearty bread before gearing up for the night’s hunt. The sun had already dipped low over the sea, casting shadows within the west commons, as lingering sunlight sparkled off the far waters of the ocean. The beat of the Kalorian drum rose up. Sounds of the hotlands ritual filled every space of the commons as the men and women prepared.
Anticipation filled the space between the hunters. As a whole, they kept their voices down, speaking only as needed. Quivers and bows were donned, long daggers sheathed, and leather boots tied. In a moment of surprised unity, men and women of all the nationalities nodded in respect as their eyes met.
The hunters raised their gazes as people filled the balcony above. In front was the entire royal family, come to see them off. The woman standing next to Lady Wyneth dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. All around them were servants and guards. Nobody spoke, but an understanding stretched along the autumn winds.
Paxton spared his last look for Princess Aerity. Even from afar she seemed to be looking right at him. She brought her slender fingertips to her lips and left them there, as if her hand could keep her emotions from escaping.
Paxton heard Tiern sigh. The sap.
In silence, the hunters grouped together, the Zandalee joining the Lochlans without question as they set out. Paxton did not look up again.
Chapter
15
The Lochlan and Zandalee hunters exited royal lands through the south hold and followed along the North Creek, keeping an eye out for animal tracks. Now and then someone would point to deer prints, but nothing of major interest. The rich men walked loudly through the dry leaves, leading with hard heels. Zandora turned with pinched eyebrows to see who was making all the noise, and though the men looked momentarily frightened at her pointed attention, they didn’t seem to understand why she was throwing hostile looks their way.
When Paxton gritted his teeth in annoyance, Tiern backtracked to the men and began showing them how to walk light-footed. They were surprisingly open to the suggestions and made progress, quieting a fraction as they became more aware of their bodies and the earth beneath them. The way a hunter should.
Paxton breathed easier, admiring his brother’s gentle way with people. It’s good there were men like Tiern alive, or there’d be no peace in all Eurona.
The night was blessedly warm. Paxton and Tiern found a large half-hollowed log and hunkered behind it, back to back, pulling their quivers to the side. The Zandalee refused to sit, opting to lean against trees so they could see in different directions.
Paxton’s eyes adjusted as darkness descended, his hearing heightened as sounds of night came to life.
He settled into his body’s awareness of his surroundings, muscles tense and ready to move at a moment’s notice. But like last time, all was still for many hours. The Zandalee never sat or moved. Their determination and stamina was unmatched by any of the men, who often fidgeted or grunted quietly.
In the deep recesses of night, when his frame became heavy and his legs went numb, a noise rang out. At his back, he felt Tiern stiffen. The sound had been faint, like a shout from far away. Paxton held his breath as he listened intently.
There it was again! Zandora lifted her arm as some kind of signal to the other Zandalee.
A shout from afar came louder this time, followed closely by others. The hunters jumped to their feet.
“It’s coming from the east,” Harrison said.
“The Kalorians,” Paxton added.
Without discussion, they all began to sprint into the dense trees, away from the water and toward the sounds where the Kalorians were stationed a half mile eastward. As he ran, Paxton pushed through jagged branches that whipped against his face. He cursed and kept running, too wild to feel any of it.
It seemed like only minutes later when a low, inhuman sound filled his ears. Paxton slowed his steps, and Tiern grabbed his shoulders from behind to avoid colliding into his back. Together they peered into the trees, moonlight casting shadows through the leaves.
“Listen,” Paxton whispered. The other hunters stopped, as well. Above their panting breaths were more yells from men, closer now, and an unmistakable roar, feral and vicious. The hairs on Paxton’s arms stood on end as Tiern’s fingers dug into his shoulder. Zandora hissed low.
The great beast was near.
One of the wealthy men shook his head and stepped back. “Seas alive!” He sounded ill, his eyes wide in the moonlight.
“We have to help them!” Paxton tore into the trees once more, sheer determination overpowering his fear. As the Lochlan men and the Zandalee crashed through the underbrush, sounds of the Kalorian men became clearer, yelling war cries. They were herding the beast straight for them.
“It’s coming!” Tiern shouted from behind him.
The two youngest Lochlan lads climbed hurriedly into the nearest trees. Two of the wealthy men fled to the south. Paxton, Tiern, Harrison, and Samuel found shelter behind trees, some standing, some kneeling, all with weapons at the ready. Paxton caught the glint of Zandora’s long, sharp arrow.