The Nun and King

Chapter 7

SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES! I'm so busy at work and I hardly have the time to write. Before—at my old office—I had a lot of down time and would write when I got the chance, but here? Well...I actually HAVE to work—can you believe it? RIP 

Anyways, here's a chapter! Please let me know what oyu think and ENJOY!!!!

I watch as the coyote sniffs the path I walked thirty minutes earlier and feel the corners of my mouth tug upwards.  Emerging from my crouched position through a patch of palmettos, I release the arrow that had already be nocked. It flies through the air before sinking into the intended target's brain and it drops to the ground, dead.

I close the twenty meter gap in-between us and squat down so that I'm balanced on the balls of my feet and inspect the coyote. It's not a pup, but it isn't fully grown either but it will have to do. Give myself a shrug, I pull the arrow out and wipe the tip clean onto my pants before dropping it into its sheath. I then pick up my kill and sling it over m left shoulder before doing the same with my bow on my right. Squinting up at the slanted rays of light that shine through the pines, I decide to head back to camp.

It's not a long walk—about ten minutes or so—and as I enter the small clearing I'm pleased to see Rory and Max mirror me, having just returned from their hunt as well. Max has what appears to be a two plump rabbits in each hand which he carries by their ears while Rory has an ugly looking creature—the word opossum comes to mind when trying to distinguish what it is. Between the three of us we will have enough food for dinner tonight and perhaps have some left over to feed the women in the morning.

Walking over to where Nikolas has already prepared a fire for cooking, I remove the coyote off my shoulder and hand it to him where he begins to expertly skin it. Max takes matters into his own hands and kneels onto a rolled out matt where he too begins to clean his kill.

Looking over my shoulder, I see that the nuns have gathered around Father Anthony for their daily sermon, and listen intently to every word he speaks. Claire's red mane hangs loosely down her back which faces me and our conversation from earlier comes to mind.

"I guess barking out mundane orders isn't the only thing you're good at," Rory teases me, joining young Max.

Rolling my eyes, I look back at him decide to take his bait. "I came out better than some," I retort, glancing at his rat-like creature. We don't have opossums where I'm from, but from my time here in the swamplands I've come across them time to time—generally at night considering they are nocturnal—and will admit they give me the creeps. "Only thing you could ever take down would be something that's asleep. Besides, who is that even supposed to feed? It's hardly got any meet on its bones."

Rory gives a scowl. "It isn't much, sure, but it'll make a turd. Sorry it doesn't please you your highness. Shall I go back into the woods and return with a boar, perhaps with an apple stuffed up its arse?"

I'm about to open my mouth to release a curse or two when Nikolas cuts in. "Alright you two knock it off. I swear you argue worse than an old married couple sometimes," he says, knowing that he's one of the few people that's allowed to put either of us in our place.

Looking over at him, I give him a small smile. "Thing is, you can divorce your spouse but never your brother," I reply.

Rory looks up at me and brushes a strand of hair out from his face, leaving a streak of blood in its place that he fails to notice. "You'd have to find a woman that wants to marry you first. And even so, she'd be the one divorcing you given your track record," he states.

Generally, the two of us get along rather well and can take each other's jabs with a grain of salt, but I allow this one to sting. Max and Nik—who, along with the majority of the men here, is familiar with my track record when it comes to romance—pause, shooting my brother a look. Rory raises a questioning brow, not realizing that he has taken it too far this time.