Page 47 of Enamored
If—when—I found the king and saved him, I would tell him what I should have all along, that he must find a new successor, someone better and more worthy than me.
Maxim would never be such a man. Never. And I would do everything within my power to make sure the king learned of his deception. In fact, I wouldn’t rest until I saw Rasmus and Maxim punished for their treason.
But first I had to make it to the king.
I leaned in closer to my horse, urging it faster and hoping to feel its heat.
At the touch of Halvard’s gloved hand against my shoulder, I glanced his way. He pressed a finger to his lips to caution me to silence, then pointed in the direction of the lake. For a moment, I didn’t see anything. Then I glimpsed the wide wingspan of a bird.
The darkness obscured the creature. Was it an owl out hunting? I prayed it wasn’t a draco. The closer we rode to the Valley of Red Dragons, the more encounters we risked, since dracos were known to make their homes in isolated mountainous areas.
Halvard made a motion for me to follow him, then veered his horse away from the lake.
I took one more glance, taking in a smaller and more pointed head. It was a hawk. And since hawks generally weren’t nocturnal, Halvard’s warning became much clearer. Someone was using the hawk to hunt for me, most likely a tracker sent out by Rasmus and Maxim.
From the moment Halvard and I had walked out of the castle gatehouse disguised as a father-daughter merchant pair, I’d estimated we would have only an hour or two’s lead before someone noticed we were gone and sent out a search party.
I’d been surprised when the hours had passed without any sign of being followed. Now that someone was closing in on us, we would have no time for a respite to warm up even if I’d wanted one.
Halvard led us deeper into the woodland. However, we kept up a punishing pace since the growth wasn’t dense like forests farther up in the Snowden Mountains. The overgrazing and the use of timber for fencing, buildings, and firewood by area farms had reduced the woody vegetation and replaced it with coarse grasses and bracken.
We pushed our horses to the limit, but even at the brink of dawn, the hawk circled in the sky overhead. Somehow, we had to evade the bird, divert it from our trail, especially before the new day broke and the light revealed our position and tracks more distinctly.
“Ahead.” Halvard nodded toward what appeared to be a dilapidated fence, likely bordering the outfields of a farm. In the summer, farmers used the outfields for pasture and for securing additional feed for their livestock. The tunet, or farmyard, was in the infields, where the farmer grew his grains and maintained his buildings, including his house.
Was Halvard hoping to take shelter on this farm?
As the sky began to lighten, the outline of a low barn came into view. Made of cut logs, the barn was unpainted and the roof covered with tufts of thick grass. The sod held the birch-bark shingles in place and provided extra insulation during the harsh winters, keeping the animals from freezing to death.
In addition to the barn, several other outbuildings formed a central square yard with a traditional lofthouse taking up the southern side. Like the other structures, it was made of logs and the roof of sod. But it was two stories tall with a smaller ground floor used for storage and a larger second floor for the living area.
The farm was quiet, the air peaceful.
As our horses thundered nearer, the short arched front door of the lofthouse opened, and a gray-haired man ducked outside, a candle in hand.
From the barn, another person stepped out.
We reined in, the hawk not far behind us.
“We require the use of your barn,” I said, slipping from my mount. As my feet touched the ground, the numbness of my limbs and the pain in my frozen feet nearly sent me to my knees. I grabbed on to my saddle to keep from buckling.
In the next instant, Halvard was scooping me up. “Quickly,” he said to the man holding the candle. “Put our horses amongst your livestock to mask their scent.”
He didn’t wait for the man’s compliance and instead carried me to the barn. As he neared, the person in the door moved to block it.
“Who are you and what do you want?” The voice was distinctly feminine and filled with distrust.
“We are on an urgent mission for Princess Elinor to the king.” Though I didn’t want to deceive her regarding my identity, I would remain safest if I kept up my pretense as a commoner. “He is in grave danger, and there are those who would not wish our message to reach His Majesty.”
Dark shadows concealed her face, but I could sense her studying Halvard, then me. As Halvard glanced again at the sky and the hawk, she tilted her head and followed his gaze. Then, without another word, she backed into the barn.
Halvard wasted no time entering after her. “We need a hiding place.”
The glow of a lantern lit the interior, revealing a tidy but earthy structure. The faint light also showed the woman to be young, perhaps my age. She wore a simple homespun garment and a cloak that covered her head. But even so, I could see that she possessed pretty features along with fair hair with a hint of red.
She crossed to a stall, swung open the door, and motioned inside. “The sheep are the smelliest. If you lie with them and cover yourself with their hay, your pursuers won’t be able to track your scent.”
Halvard brushed past her into the pen, and the sheep began to rise from their warm beds, some bleating at the interruption.
