King Arthur and Her Knights: Enthroned #1, Enchanted #2, Embittered #3 (32 page)

“Very well, Milord,” the master huntsman said. “In that case we should set the dog relays along this path…”

Britt carefully shifted in the saddle, making her horse’s white ears flick. “Kay, you’re sure I can’t ride Roen?” Britt uncomfortably asked.

“Roen is trained for war, My Lord. Llamrei is trained for… preservation,” Kay explained, his eyes ceaselessly sweeping through the party. Behind him Britt’s guards did the same thing. “Besides, no knight rides his warhorse on a hunt.”

“I would feel more assured if I had Roen, or my riding helm,” Britt said.

She, Kay, and her guards stood apart from the rest of the hunting party. They were waiting in the fields surrounding Camelot for the last of the hound relay to settle in along the path before they started pursuing the stag through the woods. They were starting south of Camelot and would swing up around it in an arc, traveling north west.

“It’s not yet finished, My Lord,” Sir Kay said.

“I know,” Britt sighed. “Is Merlin in place?”

Sir Kay adjusted his bow. “I informed him of our path before we mounted up. He was dressed most…uniquely. I would assume he is in a location that satisfies him. I believe the hunt is about to begin.”

A huntsman blew a horn, and the hounds bayed as they were released and snuffled their way down the scent path.

“Be careful, My Lord,” Sir Kay said as he cued his mount into a trot.

“I will,” Britt said, swallowing the lump in her throat. She hated to admit it, but she was afraid.

Llamrei, the white mare Britt rode, seemed to pick up on her unease as she trotted after the rest of the hunting party. The mare was impressively large, but her gaits were deceptively smooth. She did not prance like the other horses, and she was almost as watchful as Sir Kay.

Britt held her breath when the hunting party entered the woods. She rode on the edge of the party, with her knights but on the outskirts of the group.

When Sir Kay explained the situation to the guards they asked Britt if she would ride on there. “It would be best to guard you when we are not completely surrounded. It makes it easier to recognize friend from foe,” one guard said.

Britt was glad she had agreed. The hunting party seemed like a mad scramble. “It would be easy to get trampled if you fell off your horse,” Britt muttered as she ducked a tree branch.

The bay of the hounds was a howling chorus and the stamp of horse hooves was a drum beat as they followed the scent path and tracks of the stag. The huntsmen were grim men popping in and out of view in their green clothes compared with Britt’s merry and lighthearted knights.

Britt had a hard time keeping a smile on her face as every shout of joy and dog’s howl seemed like a beacon to her would be assassins. Merlin had told her time and time again the previous day that she
had
to act normal. She couldn’t appear to be nervous.

That order seemed especially hard as the biggest thing Britt wanted to do at the moment was throw up what little bread she managed to eat, turn on her heels, and run back to Camelot.

Facing down an enemy on the battlefield was one thing. There she stood a chance with her sword skills. Riding through a forest where she was utterly defenseless against a sniper assassin? That was enough to set Britt’s sense of fear on fire.

Britt forced herself to sit deeper in the saddle as she straightened her spine and flashed a smile at Gawain and Ywain as they rode past. “I won’t let Lot win,” she decided.

The first hour of the hunt passed. They stopped to water horses and gather new dogs.

“How are you fairing, My Lord?” Sir Kay asked.

“As well as could be expected,” Britt said, patting Llamrei’s neck.

Sir Kay ducked closer for the merest moment. “You hide your fear well, My Lord,” he said before mounting up when the horn sounded again.

Britt followed his example and slipped onto Llamrei’s back, turning around to nod at her soldiers.

“If we don’t bay the stag in another hour you’ll need to switch mounts. I hoped to keep you on Llamrei,” Sir Kay said as they trotted along.

“I imagine it will be soon,” Britt said.

Sir Kay shook his head.

Fear curled around Britt’s neck like an animal as the hunt continued. She smiled and joked with her knights, but her heart beat erratically in her chest. Her guards remained clustered around her, watchful and dedicated.

“Maybe it won’t be today. Maybe Lot changed his mind,” Britt muttered.

Something in the forest roared.

“My Lord,” the guards said, crowding around Britt.

A huge boar charged through the forest, streaking past the hunting party. The hounds went
wild
, abandoning the stag’s trail to give chase to the boar.

A second boar—this one enraged and snorting—plunged through the heart of the hunting party.

Some knights hauled their horses out of the way—for a boar could kill a dog, horse, or even a man—others crowded forward to get a shot at the animal.

“Did anyone hit it?”

“Which one?”

“Either!”

“After the dogs, the boar will kill them all if it stops!”

“Blast those servants, where are the spears?”

“We haven’t any, we were stag hunting, not boar hunting.”

“We can’t disassemble now, we must finish the hunt!”

The party was in mass chaos as Britt’s guards manage to pull her away from the mess without attracting attention. “It is best if they settle down before we rejoin them, Milord,” the guard captain said as Britt watched some of the huntsmen chase after the hounds.

Sir Kay was briefly visible in the mad scramble of noble hunters, and Britt waved at him to show she was fine. She then pulled Llamrei in a circle—a decision that saved her life.

A short shafted, black arrow pierced the ground Britt had just stood in.

“Protect the King,” a guard bellowed.

The soldier closest to Britt ripped a shield off his horse’s rump and tossed it to Britt. Britt caught it, slipped her arm through the arm bands, and held it above her head. The shield thumped and vibrated. Britt almost clocked herself in the head with it when arrows hit the metal surface with a great deal of force, but nothing hit her or Llamrei.

One of Britt’s guards fired off an arrow, and a man screamed as he dropped from a tree.

“Take prisoners!”

“To the King!”

A guard flung himself from his horse, attacking a man who was dashing for Britt. Another guard shot a second assassin out of the trees.

The hunting party—those who hadn’t run off after either of the boars—finally realized what was going on. Men roared and drew their swords.

“To King Arthur!” one knight yelled, his sword raised in the air.

“Stop!” Sir Kay shouted. “If you rush him in a mad group—,” his words were lost in the clamor as the knights rode to protect their sovereign.

“Halt!” the guards around Britt roared at the oncoming rush. They were grim as they set themselves between Britt and the assassins and the hunting party.

At that moment Britt understood their desire to keep her separated. Britt
knew
the knights that were in the hunting party. She was friends with them, but at that moment the hunting party was a swirl of chaos, and it would be easy for a covert assassin to sneak in and bum rush her with her would be protectors.

Llamrei bolted.

It was not the scared, witless bolt of a horse that has been spooked and frightened. Llamrei didn’t scream or toss her head. She didn’t crow hop or try to throw Britt from the saddle. The mare snorted as another assassin sprinted in Britt’s direction—he was stopped by one of Britt’s guards—before she turned to look at the yelling knights. There was an opening directly in front of Britt, and the mare took it.

Llamrei full out galloped in the woods, a white streak in the blurs of browns and greens. It was a terrifying experience Britt never wished to repeat. Branches and bushes clawed at her face, arms, and legs. Britt crouched low against the mare who safely navigated her way through the woods with an almost human-like intelligence.

Britt had no idea what direction they were going in, much less where they were. All she knew was that the roar of fighting was muted, and then gone all together as Llamrei ran like saddled wind.

Britt peered ahead and saw a fallen tree in the path. It was big for all that it was half rotted. “Llamrei,” Britt shouted as she tugged on the reins, still clinging to the mare’s neck. The mare ran at the tree with determination, and Britt realized she was going to jump it.

Britt cursed colorfully and with great imagination as she set herself in the saddle and recalled the few jumping lessons she took with her sister.

As Llamrei launched herself into the air Britt rose up out of the saddle—holding her butt aloft and body close to Llamrei. Her thigh muscles strained as she tried to hold herself balanced with the reins tight and not hauling on the mare’s mouth.

The world froze as Llamrei soared over the tree. She landed front legs first. Britt shifted her center of balance so she leaned back and wouldn’t crash into the mare’s neck. Landing was a bit rough, but Llamrei crow hopped to push Britt back into the saddle.

Britt was so elated she hadn’t fallen off she almost missed it when Llamrei streaked out of the forest and into grassland. Camelot loomed on the horizon. If Britt could reach it without falling off she would be safe.

As if renewed by the sight of the castle, Llamrei increased her speed. She galloped at a pace Britt had never seen much less experienced. But above the wind that whistled in her ears and the pounding of her throat Britt hear someone shout.

“Arthur!”

Hurtling across the field was Merlin—clothed in a green tunic—riding his lean horse. Charging out from behind him was a pack of giant mastiff dogs. Their kennel master released them and they raced across the field. Britt risked a look over her shoulder, two men on horseback and three archers were behind her. By the set of their faces Britt didn’t think they belonged to Camelot.

Britt tried to redirect Llamrei to Merlin, but the mare ignored her pulling. A man shouted and Llamrei abruptly planted her hand legs, swerving to avoid a spear launched by one of the horsemen.

Britt tumbled off the side, hitting the ground with an oomph. Llamrei screamed and skid and swiveled, planting herself between Britt and the oncoming horsemen.

As Britt tried to regain the breath that was knocked from her something dragged the oncoming assassins off their horses. One fell with a shout, but another sprang from his horse instead of falling, and ran at Britt.

He was intercepted by a huge, snarling mastiff who took him down by the latching onto the man’s arm and pulling.

“Cavall,” Britt whispered as she watched the apricot colored dog attack the assassin.

“ARTHUR!” Merlin shouted, his voice edged in panic.

Britt scrambled to her feet and saw more men dressed in muted colors join the assassins. Britt took up swearing again as she sprinted to Merlin’s side, Llamrei trotting beside her. “This isn’t an assassin or two, it’s a freakin’ army!” Britt hollered.

“I know. Llamrei stand
down
,” Merlin tightly said before he called to the kennel master with him. “Call the dogs in.”

The mastiffs were laying waste to the armed men, but when the kennel master called on a horn they returned at a lope, Cavall among them.

As soon as the dogs were back Merlin said something and struck the kennel master in the head. The man collapsed and slumped to the ground. The dogs growled, but stayed put.

“What did you just do?” Britt yelped, hysteria setting in.

“Never tell anyone what you’re about to see. Do you swear it?” Merlin spat.

“What?”

“I mean it, Britt.
Never
repeat this part of the afternoon to anyone, even Kay. Swear that you won’t!”

“I won’t, I won’t tell anyone!” Britt said as the men marched towards Merlin and her. There had to be over a hundred. Where was the hunting party? Why wasn’t anyone coming from Camelot?

“Stay behind me, take hold of my cloak, and
don’t
let go,” Merlin said.