Tarek pulled the bowstring taut, lining the point of the arrow directly up with the stag's chest. He blew out a slow breath and prepared to release. A limb snapped to his right. The deer's ears flicked, and a second later it was gone. Grumbling a string of curses, Tarek turned to see what had frightened the buck, but saw only frosted pines and tall, yellowed grasses.
The other huntsmen were sheltered at the tavern, favoring a warm hearth and fresh ale over the early winter chill. Tarek had opted to remain outside, relishing the bit of freedom and a chance to clear his head from the nightmare of last night's ball fiasco. King Darnel's cruel arctic eyes as he wiped the bloodied blade on the nearest soldier's sleeve had been in Tarek's dreams, and he feared the vision would never fade from his memories.
A thin layer of snow blanketed the earth. Tracking deer should not be too difficult, though his heart wasn't in it. Still, he needed something, anything, to distract his mind from the ghastly image of the pool of blood surrounding the Instructor's still, lifeless body on the polished stone floor.
A movement caught Tarek's attention. He hoped another predator wasn't looking to claim his deer before he had a chance to take it down. He swung his arrow toward the noise. The flash of auburn curls and black lace nearly stopped his heart. Easing the bow's tension, he clutched at his chest, sucking in gulps of air. That had been too close. He stared after the apparition as she plunged deeper into the woods, making such a racket, he was sure his stag was miles away by now.
"Hey, stop!" Tarek called, following.
The girl slowed and glanced over her shoulder, her golden eyes round in fear. The princess. She wore a dress of delicate lace with no more than a thin shawl to protect her against the chill. Tarek blinked, trying to make sure his eyes weren't playing a cruel trick and that the sight of the fleeing figure was real, not some enchanted vision.
What was the stupid girl doing in the snowy woods without proper attire? As he pursued her, she let out an anguished cry and ran faster. Whatever had sent her out into the elements unprotected must be bad. Worse than last night?
Tarek paused a moment. In his mind, Pop warned him to let the girl go. Keep your nose out of the royals' business, boy.
"Troll's breath!" He took off after her. "Wait! Your…" Was she to be addressed as Your Highness? She acted nothing like a royal. Nothing at all.
He had to catch her before she tumbled over the cliff or fell into a patch of quicksand. The forest was treacherous, full of blind holes leading into deep pits and caves. The sparse wildlife knew how to maneuver around the traps. The hunters learned quickly. Olden had taken Tarek out a few times on his poaching trips to show him what to look for.
A high-pitched scream told Tarek she'd already fallen into trouble. "Princess!"
Another scream led him to where the land gave way into the sheer drop of a mist-enshrouded canyon. The princess' legs were hanging over the edge. She clung tightly to the branch of a bare tree.
"Don't let go!" Tarek scrambled over fallen logs and brush, trying to get to her.
The scraggly branch, keeping her from going off the edge, snapped and started to break from the skinny trunk. She slid down a few more inches. Tarek slowed his steps, moving closer, assessing the best way to help her. He searched the frozen ground for a sturdy log he could use to pull her up.
The princess suddenly stopped struggling, stopped fighting to climb, and her face relaxed in resolute acceptance. She turned her head and stared down into the canyon. One hand released the branch, and the other began to relax its hold.
YOU ARE READING
Captured: A White Road Tale novella #1
خيال (فانتازيا)He will lose everything if their secret is found out. When Tarek's family is taken prisoner by the conniving, self-proclaimed King of Racah, they make a pact to lay low and do whatever is necessary to survive until they can devise an escape plan. ...
