Chapter 7
Who is hunting who?
Amy's first introduction to the priests that made up the last of their mounted party came about an hour into their trek when the lagging plump man called Lars screamed and toppled from his grey gelding. His horse screamed in unison and toppled sideways, trapping the priest's legs beneath him.
Amy's mare snorted and reared. She cried out, clinging to her mane of her frantic animal to keep her seat.
Quin wrenched his horses' head around and leapt back towards the fallen priest, drawing his bow and an arrow, flashing past Amy's rearing mount, spotting what she had not.
The other two riders' mounts scattered into the closed canopy of trees, tossing the men on their backs like corks in a suddenly churning sea of underbrush.
A large white boar with pale sharp tusks had charged the horse, squealing a rough low pitched sound as it attacked and was now ripping at the exposed belly of the downed horse, slicing it open with surgical precision.
All the while, the horse continued to thrash, screaming in pain, hoofs and legs flailing, rolling side to side as it tried to defend itself, and crushing the unlucky priest beneath its prone form.
Quin reached the full grown boar and being careful to not get too close, sank three arrows in quick succession into its head and body. It jerked as the arrows struck home, sinking to the ground.
The horse kicked feebly, its belly ripped open and entrails roping to rest in the bloodied soil beneath its belly.
Of the priest, there was no movement. His eyes stared with a glassy look at the sky above and blood trickled from his nose and mouth.
Quin looked around for other boars then dismounted, drawing his knife and slitting the horse's jugular. He then crouched down by the fallen priest, placing his fingers against the priest's throat. There was no pulse.
Amy sucked in the sob that tried to escape her throat at the grizzly sight and forced her snorting wild eyed mare closer to Quin's equally nervous mount. She took hold of the stallion's bridle to steady it.
"Is he dead?" Amy asked
"Yes." Quin took a quick look around for the others, but they could not be seen.
"Do you think there are more of them around? You said they hunt in packs." She glanced around nervously, eyeing the underbrush with suspicion.
"They do not normally attack large parties but search for lone prey. I do not think there are others. This one is a young male, so likely driven out of the pack by a dominant boar."
Quin went back to his saddle and withdrew a larger knife and a cloth and some rope.
"We can do nothing about the horse, other than salvage what is in the saddle bags, but this boar meat will keep us fed for a long time, if we preserve it properly."
Amy dismounted and tied both of their horses securely to a tree nearby and pulled out her own blade.
Kneeling beside him, she said "What of the others? Do we wait for them? Go after them?" She glanced around once more, but there was no sign of the second priest, the servant or the mule. The forest was eerily silent and still once more.
"As neither of them can ride, I suspect that the horses have the bit in their teeth and have bolted for the safety of the castle barns." Quin began skinning the boar and Amy followed suit and began to skin from the opposite end of the animal.
"I also doubt that either one of them have any interest in resuming the journey, as reluctant as they were to come in the first place. No, I suspect that we would just be retracing our footsteps and we cannot afford to lose any time. We will take what is left here and keep going. We will be able to travel faster that way."
Quin started to cut the raw meat from the bone in strips, which he piled on the leather cloth. Amy was cutting chunks of meat and creating a similar pile on her oiled cloth.
Once they had cut away as much as they could carry, they removed several of the tusks that had broken off the beast, tucking them into a bag.
Wrapping the meat carefully, they secured it in their saddle packs and then Quin searched the priest's bags.
Amy found she couldn't look at the fallen man. Her hands trembled with reaction to the sight. "We should bury him" she murmured, "but how can we get him out from under the horse?"
Quin frowned, thinking. "We should leave him," he said reluctantly. "The others will come back to bury him and with others to help, they can recover the body."
"But their horses bolted, how will they know he is here?" Amy asked.
Quin shrugged. "I don't know, but we have no way to remove him. The King will check to make sure. He will send out a squad of soldiers, or a knight or two to make sure. At least I think they will."
Quin was not happy with the decision, but any delay took the princess further from his grasp and the King had been very specific about not returning empty handed.
"I must keep going, by the Kings orders. Nothing was to stand in my way, not even this." He met Amy's gaze. She had the impression that he was going to say more but he remained silent. She nodded her agreement.
They could only search the one saddle bag, which remarkably contained two vials of unbroken elixir and some strange blue stones that felt warm to the touch. Quin tucked both into an inner pocket of his tunic and stood up.
"Search the rest of his bags while I put this in my pouch for safe keeping."
Amy knelt beside the prone figure with her head averted and rummaged through saddle bags, trying not to look at the fallen man as she did so. Her hand felt around in the bag and found piece of parchment, crumpled by the flailing of the horse and wedged into a corner missed by Quin's blind search.
Withdrawing the parchment, she could see the remnant of a broken royal seal on the fold. Curious, she smoothed open the letter to read its contents.
"By order of his Royal Highness, King Aurelius, Defender of the Realm, and Purveyor of Truth:
To: Lars Leptis, Royal Priest
Re: Tarquinius Camillus, Private Assassin to the King
Mission: Recovery of the princess.
Reward: 20,000 gold coins.
Task: No witnesses. All expendable persons in party are to be disposed of en route to the princess, the balance on recovery of her person.
Special instructions: Contained in this pouch are two vials. One is a poison elixir and the other a paralyzing elixir. It is my preference that you use the paralyzing elixir and return her to me. If the princess cannot be recovered safely, use the poison.
Means: Accidental deaths to be arranged for all in the party unless after acquiring the princess it is found that she has changed. Tarquinius is expendable. Leave no witnesses.
Signed by Royal Seal of King Aurelius, Defender of the Realm and Purveyor of Truth."
Amy gasped audibly and clapped a hand over her own mouth, stifling the sound. Her mouth continued to gape, a beached carp gasping for air, behind her hand.
Amy's pity for the man stuck under the horse evaporated as swiftly as the breath of life had left him as shock dulled the scene before her...Quin, an assassin? Had a twist of fate saved her, saved them both from certain death? She could not believe that Quin would kill her, on the king's orders or not. She carefully folded the incriminating piece of paper and tucked it inside her shirt, out of sight.
"Let's ride quickly; we know for certain that we will be followed. The king will not leave this to chance, especially when he finds out that it was Lars' mount that was attacked by the boar." Quin strode back to where she still crouched. "I must not fail in my mission." he said, peering over Amy's back. She rose quickly from the ground. "Was there anything else in there?"
Amy swallowed and fought down the rising color in her cheeks, keeping her head averted. "Nothing of interest. You found the important things." She smiled to herself, her thoughts a sour berry in her mouth. Quin looked at her, confused by her tone of voice and halfway opened his mouth to speak, but then shrugged his shoulders and turned away.
The recovery of the princess almost seemed secondary now, as the note made it obvious that the King had no intention of letting anyone witness her recovery. Amy could not sort out in her mind why this mission was turning into such a quagmire of intrigue.
They mounted up and touching heels to flanks, urged their mounts to a brisk trot, following the fading trail left by the kidnapper, who somehow now, did not feel so much like the enemy.
In the distance, a rumble of thunder could be heard.
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