The King's Justice

Part 1 Chapter 1

Storm winds slammed branches together while sending sheets of rain to batter the stolen horse and his trembling rider. The storm really was perfect. A better cover couldn't have been picked, all things considered, because it meant there would be no tracks and no scent for the hounds to follow. And of course, going across country instead of taking the roads also helped with that cover, even if it forced slow travel, Aydra reflected with a convulsive shiver, biting her lips to stop her teeth chattering.

As the night stretched out, the storm seemed to be intensifying with icy sheets of rain drenching her to the bone and the wind making frightening howling like sounds. The horse's ears kept flickering, his head tossing in a nervous reflex. Commiserating with his dislike of being cold and soaked to the bone, Aydra reached down, patting his neck again gently in apology.

"I'm so sorry for dragging you out here in weather like this. 'Tis a sad fact that this isn't fit for a noble steed like yourself! You should be shut up, all nice and cozy warm in your stable, being fed a lovely supper and coddled the whole night with sweet dreams." Aydra crooned softly to the horse, shifting uneasily on the uncomfortable saddle. Animals were always easier to talk to, in her opinion, they didn't judge her or find her wanting, not like people did.

Another shiver, half fear and half cold from the icy rain, swept her back to being aware of her present situation. Despite the dark and the storm, she was determined that she wouldn't go back. Aydra reassured herself that her absence wouldn't be discovered until morning at the least. No one would even care that she was gone when the maid came to wake her, Aydra thought to herself. Then it would be a different tale!

She knew that as soon as Ardra discovered her gone from her room, she would be quick to search the castle and when it was determined that she was missing, only then would an alarm be raised. Aydra felt a pang of fear at that thought because Ardra's first action would be to send a message to Aydra's father about her latest disgrace and then Ardra's second act would be urgent messages to Lord Fyn.

The fact was, despite his being several weeks travel away, the threat of her father's retribution was far more frightening than her husband's anger. This was - in Aydra's mind - perfectly normal since she had spent half her life being punished by Ardra for any infraction of both her father's rules and her mother's expectations of what made a perfect lady.

By comparison to that, Fyn would only kill her. That wasn't enough to deter her, though. It just made her all the more determined to carry out her plans.

While that sounded as if she prioritised what was the most dangerous in the wrong order, in Aydra's mind, there were worse things. Being killed meant that any suffering was done. Returning to her father's household as a disgraced, rejected and unwanted wife?

A shudder of revulsion so strong she started gagging over the bile that rose up her throat had her nearly tumbling off the horse. A sharp gasp of fear accompanied her frantic grab for a firmer hand hold as she struggled to pull herself up correctly.

"Foolish girl! Keep your mind on what's in front of you, not behind!" She hissed at herself when she was resettled firmly in the saddle, pinching her thigh viciously in an effort to shake off her unsettling thoughts.

As if he understood her, the horse snorted and tossed his head, giving an extra stomp into the mud so that it squelched and spattered upwards. Aydra stroked his neck in an attempt to soothe him, something the beast clearly didn't appreciate or fall for since he snorted even louder before slowing even more.

She'd picked the horse carefully, going to the far end of the barn and choosing the one that she thought would be the most easily overlooked. He was scruffy, and during the few times she had been able to watch them, hadn't seemed to want to mingle with the other horses. That meant he wouldn't fuss over being taken away from them. Even the saddle was picked carefully. It had been sitting next to an empty stall; plain, thin and old it looked so worn that she didn't think it was going to hold up another day let alone a long journey and thought that surely that was something that the stable hands were meant to throw away.