Page 406 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Chapter 17

When day dawned, it took but a moment for Rossa to get her bearings and remember where she was, before she threw open the shutters, to see the world outside. Not just one, but all the shutters, though at the first touch of chill air she put up a shield to keep the warmth inside the tower, while still letting her look out.

Sometime in the night, it had stopped snowing, and the sky was now as clear and crisp as the icicles that would soon festoon the eaves around the castle. The world…well, the world was white, smoothing the ground while it frosted the trees and shrubs, blanketing the roofs of cottage and monastery alike. Only the lake stood out, bright blue depths like a single, giant eye, staring at the sky above.

But it was the forest that drew her gaze, trees stretching endlessly up into the mountains for many miles more than she could see. She wouldn't be surprised if the forest did not thin until it reached the plains on the other side of the mountains, where the king's court lay. Not that she or any other sane person would travel that way, when there were roads and rivers, both far more sensible ways to reach the capital. If her father ever deemed her ready to go there.

He would. Maybe not this week or this month or even this year, given it was waning into winter, but he would.

As long as she did not slacken in her training. And what was a little snow, except a new challenge to be faced?

Movement caught her eye, between the trees, way down below. A creature of some kind…no, several of them. A herd of deer, she realised, fattened for winter but still searching for just a little more to eat before the final frosts set in.

She and Father had talked of going hunting, before he'd been summoned to Byzas. Because winter stews and sausages wouldn't be the same without a little smoked venison to season them. Without Father here, she'd have to go alone, but she didn't mind. She was more than a match for any deer.

She dressed for the hunt in clothes that had once been her brother's, though Tobias was much broader in the chest and shoulders now. Sure, the tunic was a little tight across her breasts, but it would do for today. Tomorrow, she could buy new ones in the village, at whatever tailor or weaver shops existed here in the mountains. Mother would approve of her bringing her trade to the local businesses, and they'd likely make warmer vestments than what was needed in Mirroten. They'd need the warmth up here in the mountains.

Maybe it was time to get a new winter cloak, too. She fancied a fur one, though she didn't think there was anything big enough in these mountains with the fur to fashion a whole cloak from. So pieces, maybe, from a hundred thieving squirrels…

Rossa laughed softly to herself. It would take all winter to amass so many squirrel pelts. Then again, it wasn't like she'd have anything else to do up here except hunt…

Venison first, then she could think about clothes, she scolded herself, taking her bow and a quiver of arrows, plus a brace of knives, as her weapons for today. A quick stop to the kitchen, where Sal plied her with fresh bread, a waterskin and some of the last autumn apples, and Rossa was soon headed out the gates, to the freedom of the high forests.

She mapped the forest in her mind's eye, trying to match what she'd seen from her tower to the view down here on the ground. The deer had been…that way, she decided, marching into the trees.

Her boots crunched through the snow, making her wish she'd chosen softer leather shoes instead. But they'd have been soaked in an instant, she knew, which was why she'd donned the heavy boots. Still, she was hardly a silent hunter, when anyone could hear her from miles away. Not even deer were that stupid.

If she intended to hunt today, she'd have to make it an ambush, lying in wait where no one would hear her. Of course, that meant guessing which way her prey would go, so that she might surprise them.

She cast her mind back to the view from the tower. Several streams meandered into the lake from the mountains, and the deer had been heading toward one. If she got there first and found a tree to hide in…her noisy boots would no longer matter.

Almost by magic, she found a fresh trail that led to the stream. Someone had tramped through the snow this way, breaking branches with the width of his shoulders, for she knew of no two-legged creature quite as destructive as an armoured man. Whoever he was, he would not hear her coming, for she took care to walk in his footsteps, where the squashed snow mixed with mud made little sound beneath her much lighter feet.

When she could hear the stream gurgling ahead, Rossa took to the trees, climbing the trunk of one before taking her boots off to use the branches as her barefoot highway. A whisper of magic added strength to branches that would not normally take her weight, as she slipped through to a gap in the trees.

There, she found a tiny waterfall, where the stream skipped down a line of rocks before tumbling into a pool a couple of yards below. The tree canopy here was so thick, no snow lay on the ground yet, though that would surely change as winter came. Instead, the pool's banks were carpeted in green.

Rossa wanted to laugh out loud. If she were a deer, whose food had been suddenly covered by snow, she'd be headed here, too. So she settled down to wait.

Sal's bread was half gone – Rossa hadn't dared risk crunching into an apple – when she finally spied movement. Down went the loaf, up went her bow, though she didn't reach for an arrow yet.

The buck entered the clearing first, ducking a little so his enormous rack of antlers didn't snag on the tree branches. Perhaps a dozen red deer followed him – a mix of does and juveniles. As they spread out along the stream, Rossa took her time assessing her options.

If she shot one of the smaller juveniles, she could probably dress the carcass and carry it home easily. But some of the juveniles came close to rivalling the buck for size, and the buck would be a prize for any hunter. She knew the buck's harem would winter just fine without him, likely finding another protector before the spring snow had melted. Still, she'd likely need to use magic to carry his carcass, for he was far too big for her. Then again, if she used her magic, she might be able to carry two home…

The obvious first choice was the juvenile who'd been at the back of the herd, a young male who'd be fighting for his own harem next year, if he lived that long. Bringing him down would likely panic the others, so she'd be lucky to get a second shot off, and she'd direct it toward the big buck.

She drew an arrow from her quiver, and sighted along it. The young male moved toward the trees, almost as if he sensed something wrong, before dropping his head to nibble at the grass once more. If she felled him just right, he'd block the trail, buying her time to take down the buck before they found another way out of the clearing.

A roar erupted, louder than any deer she'd ever heard. Who was the buck challenging?

Her target bolted, as the rest of the herd panicked.

To blazes with it. Rossa sent her arrow toward the antlered buck. It sank deep into the animal's eye, killing it, barely a moment before a massive paw broke the buck's neck.

Rossa reached for another arrow, aiming before she could truly process what she was seeing. It wasn't another deer that had roared, but a bear. A huge, white bear, which ripped her arrow out of the deer's eye and whirled to see where it had come from.

He spied her instantly, in her treetop perch. Her eyes met his, and she saw nothing but fury in them. Then he charged toward her.

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