Page 89 of The Duke and the Disciple

Aesylt clutched the bow, stringing the icy air through her teeth and into her lungs, where she held it. Movement caught her eye, so she rose onto her knees, peering through the gaps in the wall to see two of the king’s men laughing as they inspected their loot bag.

Saying nothing to the boys, she rose, drawing an arrow in a slow slide. She nocked it, her hands unsteady as she took aim.

One of the men spotted her, and they both startled. It was too late. Aesylt loosed the arrow, and it sliced through the first man’s neck. The second man bolted, leaving his spoils behind. Val and Nik scrambled to their feet, heading for the stairs, but by the time they reached the ground, the remaining man would already be gone.

Panting and desperate, Aesylt grabbed the spear propped against the wall and returned to the spot where she’d fired her arrow. She saw her father’s panicked eyes—scared for her, knowing he’d never learn her fate because his was already sealed—as his head was taken from his body. She saw Hraz screaming, his arms out for her as the sword plunged into his chest from behind. The entire, torturous day bubbled up from within, a dangerous brew that had her backing up and charging the wall, her arm releasing the spear with enough force to send her flagging over the stones. The air stilled, allowing space for the ghastly whisper of the weapon hurtling from the battlement. The man looked up in surprise, and that was what killed him. The hesitation. It was the last expression he made as the spear struck him in the gut.

“Ancestors keep us,” Niklaus whispered as he pulled her back over the wall to safety. “Val, she’s fading.”

“Our people need to eat,” Aesylt murmured and drifted away.

Aesylt swooned, the tree catching her before she could fall. She registered pain in her hands and saw they were already blistering from the force of her grip. Rain had set in, but the bowing needles were sheltering her from most of it. The sun was already past the center of the sky, so she’d been out there for hours—except that wasn’t possible. She’d only just set up her station.

Yet her quiver was half-empty.

She grabbed the magnifiers to scan the valley. Her breathing stopped.

Nock. Aim. Release.

Nock. Aim. Release.

Nock. Aim. Release.

“Aesylt, it’s past dusk. We need to get back, find shelter.” One of the boys. She wasn’t sure which.

Nock. Aim. Release.

Nock. Aim. Release.

“Aessy, we have more than enough for now. We can come back tomorrow. We have all season.”

Nock. Aim. Release.

Nock. Aim. Release.

Nock. Aim. She fell to her knees and tried to stand, but the ground wobbled.

Arms folded around her from behind. She screamed, but then hands were peeling away the bow. Both boys held her as she thrashed and sobbed, and they were crying right along with her. Though her face was buried in Nik’s shoulder, she saw a pile of carcasses as tall as Val. Deer, elk-kind, air fowl. So many. They’d taken down so many. How, how had...

No, not they. She.

“You’ve done enough,” Nik whispered.

Aesylt woke with her face on the wet ground. She sputtered through the melting snow and sat up, finding it was dark. Her quiver was empty.

And she wasn’t alone.

Down in the valley, four or five dressing boys were working to pile the results of her hunt. She reached for the magnifier, but boots drew her gaze upward, where she found Lord Dereham peering down at her in distress.

“I found her!” he cried, lowering to a crouch. The world upended as she left the ground. She saw Pieter collecting her bow and empty quiver. Another man rolled her instruments up and took them away. “Aesylt, whathappened? Why didn’t you signal us?”

She shook her head because she didn’t know. A powerful swell of nausea rolled up from within, and she closed her mouth tight to fend it off. Light from a torch swung across her vision.

“We have a count, sir.” Why did the man sound so concerned? “Three bucks, two hares, six grouse, and...” He hesitated. “We found a sizable boar with a spear through him.”

“That cannot be right,” Rustan said. He shifted Aesylt in his arms. “Twelve kills? She was out here alone?”

“All day and evening,” said someone else. “Nearest post was Baron Silver, a half mile to the east.”

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