Hunters

XXI. Legends

XXI. Legends

They'd ridden deep into the woods, the leafy refuge expressing kaleidoscopic shadows. Vaughan had slowed down to a walk; Beli and Wick were flaring their nostrils. Relaxed in the shade, Lecia closed her eyes and let her horse follow on his own. It was already much cooler, and the scent of earth and moss were filling her lungs while the chirping of birds nearly lulled her to sleep.

"Lecia!" Vaughan called. Her eyes snapped open and she saw him beckoning her from nearly five strides away. She must have nodded off and Wick had stopped to save his rider from falling to the ground.

Composing herself, she trotted up to meet her guide. The trees had grown thicker, closer together, so she was going to have to maneuver through it. They followed a path that was invisible to her, but Vaughan knew the way easy enough, even in the darkening wilderness. Before long, the forest expanded again, more light streamed through the treetops, and the trickling of running water was louder than the birds.

Her husband dismounted when they entered a scenic clearing. Lecia followed form as she peered around. It was well lit and cool enough, though there wasn't much else that distinguished it as a particularly special place. He caught her eye as he rummaged through a sack she hadn't realized he was carrying. Beli stood impatiently, pawing at the ground and nodding his head, but Wick was in need of a good nap. Like Lecia, he was both relaxed by the retreat and suffering from the heat.

In the blink of an eye, Vaughan had swapped both horses' bridles for quickly fashioned rope halters. Still stunned, she watched as he started leading them away into the trees, leaving his bag behind. Lecia trailed as passed into a second, larger glade. It was practically a meadow, tall and lush grass almost to her knees, with a distinct walking path despite it being overgrown.

When she realized what Vaughan was doing she stopped to wait for his return. He was leading their horses to a split-rail pen. There was sufficient shade, a wide creek, and ample space for running, rolling, and resting. It was curious, though, that an enclosure would have been built in the middle of a forest so far from the main park, but it all seemed familiar enough to the Duke.

"Come cariad," he said, bidding her to follow as he headed back into the first clearing, grabbed his sack, and started into dense wood they hadn't been through.

For the most part, Lecia kept quiet. If not for the innumerable interpersonal strains, then because she was exerting herself trying to match her husband's pace while brushing branches out of the way and balancing over the uneven, rocky trail that didn't exist.

It had been steadily growing darker again, her ability to track Vaughan almost entirely dependent on sound. She could see that the trees had grown green, moss creeping up over exposed roots, trunks, and anything else it might attach to. When her husband finally started taking shorter steps, she was breathing heavily. The woodland might be cooler than direct sunlight, but it was still summer.

"We must be very careful now," Vaughan said gently, finding her hand in the obscurity. She could see his attentiveness even in the dark, and she smiled a little to herself, finding comfort in the small embrace.

He guided her forward, sharp glimmers of light revealing the narrow scowles that he, somehow, knew the way through. Lecia was glad he had a hold of her when they reached a small stone staircase and she slipped slightly on the moss; she recovered quickly, but couldn't ignore the way his grip had intensified to keep her from falling.

When they emerged from the labyrinth, Lecia's heart was racing. There was light again, and Vaughan released his hold on her.

"It's just here," he said eagerly, marching over a stone bridge that crossed a steady stream.