The Queen's Assassin (Queen's Secret #1) - Melissa de la Cruz Page 0,84
“Yes?”
Her eyes are dewy and her cheeks flushed. It looks as if she wants to say something important, but all she says is, “Be careful, on the hunt.”
“Is that all?” he asks.
She nods.
“I assure you I shall return in one piece, my lady,” he says, and bows.
* * *
CAL JOINS THE OTHER men gathering near the stable, hunting dogs milling about between them. He chooses a bow and quiver from the duke’s collection even though he has no intention of using it. He has always detested the sport.
The duke introduces him. “Lord Holton of Argonia.” The duke’s friends murmur appropriate greetings. This is the center of the aristocracy and Cal has been accepted as one of their own, a foreign lord who has won the duke’s approval.
Hours pass on the duke’s hunt. Cal lags behind the men with his borrowed bow and borrowed horse. The boar they’re chasing holds no interest for him, but then he overhears a conversation that does. “Renovian problem,” someone says. He rides up to try to get closer so he can hear them better.
“They’ll take us if we don’t take them first,” says a second voice.
“Don’t disagree.”
“Montrice cannot fall.”
“War is inevitable.”
But before he can hear more, the dogs begin running and barking furiously: They’ve found the boar. They corner the animal in some dense hedges. It cowers there, squealing. The sound is horrendous. The men rush forward, praising the dogs: “Excellent work, Whitefoot” and “Good job, Jak.”
Cornering an animal with dogs is not hunting, Cal thinks. But at least it’s nearly over and they can soon go back to the house. He’s eager to talk to Shadow about the day and the snippet about Renovia he overheard.
The men all move aside to allow the duke to ride through and approach the boar. He dismounts and removes a dagger from his boot. “Lord Holton,” he says.
All the men look at him. Cal is taken aback. “Yes?”
The duke twists his wrist and holds the dagger out, handle toward Cal. “Please, do the honors.”
“Your Grace, I thank you, but that isn’t necessary. It is your hunt, after all.”
But the duke motions with the dagger again. “I insist.”
There’s no way out of this. Cal jumps down from the horse and walks toward the duke. He takes the dagger. The duke watches him as he moves past the dogs toward the scared boar. It lets out a snorting squeal. The dogs begin barking again.
“Quiet!” the duke yells at them.
Cal looks at the boar, shaking and pawing at the dirt. To those who worship Deia, causing an animal fear before killing it makes it inedible. It becomes cruelty for sport, rather than survival, and interferes with the balance of energy. Cal may not be an incredibly religious man, but he still has respect for Guild customs.
The duke is challenging him. He wants to see Cal’s response to this task.
“Well, get on with it!” the duke shouts. The other men laugh.
“Deia take you,” Cal whispers to the boar. He closes his eyes and quickly slides the dagger across its throat, killing it immediately.
“We’re feasting on boar tonight, gentlemen!” the duke announces.
As Cal walks by him to return to his horse, the duke mutters to him: “Excellent hand with that dagger. Had a lot of practice?”
“On a different kind of hunt,” Cal replies with a grim smile.
The duke snorts.
* * *
“THERE WAS NOTHING AT the inn.” The duchess is standing on the staircase landing when Cal returns from the hunt. She’s changed into an afternoon dress, light pink, with a long brocade jacket over it. The jacket has bell sleeves and a high stiff collar that frames her face. Her hair is pulled into a soft twist. She’s pretty, he admits, and in another lifetime, perhaps he would have appreciated her attentions; but there is business at hand, and he’s still aggravated from the hunt. The duchess is the last thing he wants to deal with.