Chapter 7 Do Not Trust
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It's dark and cold. My body is shivering uncontrollably. I hug myself for some form of warmth. I cannot see a thing. Are my eyes closed? I scrunch my face together, moaning with a closed mouth. What happened? Where—a dull pain starts in the middle of my back just to the right of my spine. It quickly grows to intense burning and spreads to my right flank.
"Agh!" I grit my teeth and arch my shoulders, lifting my back off the ground. It eases my pain a little.
Greta as an old woman, the pop of Finn's eyes, the running, the old man I helped to hide behind the wagon wheel, the hounds, the black horse, the dark forest—no, this dark forest. I open my eyes slowly, a blur of greys and blacks filling my sight. I blink a few times, pushing the blobs of greys and blacks into clear shapes. The black shadows of the trees have grown in so close together that their branches form a solid canopy, blocking out all light. Yes, this is the dark forest that I clambered into to escape Finn, Ravenna, and her black glass knights. This is all so…how is any of this happening? I almost want to say I am dead now, but here I am still caught in this strange dream. Should I even call it fantastic anymore? This has turned into a nightmare.
I brace my hands against the earth—a bunch of tiny thorns and bristles pierce my palms! I yelp and snatch my hands back. I cross my arms over my breasts—my cheeks flush with shame and embarrassment. My chilled breasts are bare. While this may be unreal, everything that has happened up to this point has carried over, even the little detail about Finn tearing my dress. The only thing keeping my dress on is the leather belt about my waist. Growing despair wrings my heart. What am I going to do about clothing? Modesty does not matter in this dark forest, but warmth is vital. I pull my hands from my breasts, the cold instantly biting them so painfully that it hurts almost as much as my back wound. I grab the backs of my knees and rock myself to a sitting position. A spasm of pain shoots through my back and side.
"Nngh!" I clutch my right side and double over. I remember the feeling of a white hot poker piercing my back and hearing the snap of the arrow shaft when I slid into the sewer. Damn it! I need to tend to my wound…somehow. I look all around me. Just darkness and the looming shadows of trees.
"Oh no." There are no herbs, no plants, not even a source of water for me to use. I'm surrounded by darkness and death. If I don't treat my wound, I face imminent infection or blood loss, both able to kill me. If I don't find warmth soon, then I will freeze to death. If I die, how will I ever keep my promise to Greta!? How will I ever be able to fulfill the favor Sara asked of me? Panic rises in me and I pat at my chest for Sara's ring, finding its warmed metal between my breasts. Thank God! I have not lost her ring. It's the only good thing in the midst of all this hell.
I pull my dress back up my shoulders, hug myself for some warmth, and look all about me, searching for something, anything to help. The black glass knights and their hounds have not pursued me in here. Why? Are they letting me go? Or is there something threatening that dwells in this darkness? My heart thrums in my ears. My breathing quickens. Somewhere in this darkness, within these trees, is something truly frightening, something that will kill me in a horrific and painful way. I need to find somewhere I can hide and rest before delving deeper into this hell. I cannot turn back and leave this forest. To do so would mean my capture by the black glass knights, my violation and humiliation at the hands of Finn, and Ravenna consuming my heart! That thought threatens to unearth that one horrible winter all over again.
A twig snaps. I whip my head back to the sound. There's nothing but the shadows of thick dead trees. I take in a deep breath and slowly release it, trying to calm my jittery nerves. I'm hearing things. My mind is playing tricks on me. I look ahead, doing my best to push the snapping twig out of my mind.
SNAP.
I glance back, seeing nothing but the same shadows of trees. No, I'm not hearing things. There's something, or someone, in here with me. It's not any of Ravenna's black glass knights. I would hear their footfalls and their shrieks. Whatever is stalking around here is stealthy. The only creatures that would be stealthy would be predators, like wolves, hunting for food! Whatever is stalking around here in the near pitch darkness…it is hunting me. My muscles tense, my body preparing to run. I keep my eyes trained on the thick cluster of black trees against the grey while I slowly rise to my feet. I have yet to see shadows moving within the trees, but that will change. Perhaps…perhaps it has not seen me yet. Perhaps it is some harmless deer ambling through these trees having just as much trouble seeing as me.
Regardless of whatever it is, I cannot run nor turn my back on it. Running would provoke it to chase me if it is a predator and turning my back on it would open me to a surprise attack from behind. My best option is to remain silent and back away slowly.
A branch snaps behind me! I wheel around, coming face to face with a colossal shadow looming over me! I look up, up, up, tilting my head all the way back just to see the shadow's broad shoulders and the top of its head. A man! A man as tall as a brown bear standing on his hind legs. Even though I cannot see his face in the dark, I feel his eyes on me. Everything about him—his stance as if he's ready to spring, his rounded shoulders, his silence. He means me harm!
I shake my head as I stumble back. "Please, please don't—"
"Com'ere!" he snarls, his voice just like a bear's snarl!
"NO!" I try to dodge him, but he snatches my arm, his grip so tight that it cuts off the blood flow to my hand. All of my arm goes numb beneath his grip! My heart takes off racing. The man turns around and hauls me along! I trip over roots and brambles, but he drags me behind him unhindered. God, this almost feels unreal!
"Nono, please don't do this!" I grab his hand and try to push it away from me, but his grip only tightens. "Please don't kill me!"
"Kill ye!?" he asks, amused, not sparing me a glance nor slowing down. "That's no' my job."
"Your jo…" This man agreed to hunt me down and bring me to Finn for some reward. God no! "God help me!" I try digging my feet into the ground, but he keeps pulling me along unaffected, snapping twigs under his heavy steps. "Please have mercy on me, Sir!" I say, tears shaking my voice.
"Shut up!" he says.
Words fly out of me in desperation. "Please don't! The Queen is going to cut out my heart and eat it!—" The man halts. His grip doesn't loosen. I watch the back of his head, half expecting him to look back at me. He doesn't.
"Quick work," that sinister voice says from the dark. My heart sinks and my eyes go to the shadow of Finn as he approaches with three black glass knights following him, twigs snapping and cracking under their feet. How can he see in this darkness!? I thought I gouged out his eyes! Perhaps that was a dream, too, and I escaped by some other means?
"Our Queen will be most pleased," Finn says, extending the shadow of his hand towards the hunter. "Hand her over."
"Oh, no, NO!" I try to rip my arm out of the hunter's death grip. A sharp pain shoots through my shoulder, my numb, tingling arm still caught in his hand. My heart jumps into my throat. "Please, please, you don't have to do thi—"
"Shut up!" the hunter says, glaring back at me before looking at Finn. "What do ye intend to do to her?" he asks, his tone…sympathetic. The sound of sympathy does not mix well with his bear-like voice.
"Why do you care?" Finn asks. I look up at the back of the hunter's head. He does not spare me a glance.
"Ye want the lass?" The hunter tugs on my arm painfully, bringing me around to his side. "I want to see the Queen bring her back! Then, this one's all yers." He tugs on my arm again, gesturing to me. Bring her back? Me? No, that doesn't make sense. He must be referring to someone else. And bring her back? Bring her back from what?
"You did your job well," Finn says, stepping closer to me, his hand drawing closer to me! "Now keep your word—" The hunter forces me behind him, causing sharp fire to spasm from my wound to my right side. I cry out from the pain.
"I'll keep my word when the Queen keeps hers!" the hunter says. Hope sparks in my heart as my pain eases. This hunter and Finn do not have a pleasant partnership—one that can be exploited to help cause conflict between them and give me the chance to escape.
"You won't get what Ravenna promised you!" I tell the hunter.
"Shut up, little bitch!" Finn says.
"You'll never get it, no matter what you do!"
"I said shut up!" Finn reaches for me, but the hunter puts himself between Finn and me. "Move out of the way, widower!" Finn says. Widower? An ache fills my heart for the hunter.
"A life for a life!" the hunter says. "I'll hand this lass over when yer Queen brings my wife back!" His wife, widower, a life for a life—it all makes sense now. Ravenna promised to bring this hunter's wife back from the dead in exchange for me, but no man can bring the dead back to life.
"She will," Finn says, struggling to keep control of his temper. "My sister and your Queen, is faithful. Now, hand over the prisoner—"
"He's lying," I tell the hunter.
"Shut up!" Finn tells me.
I persist. "Ravenna has power to take life away and sustain it, but she cannot resurrect anyone!"
"DAMN YOU!" Finn charges for me, but the hunter throws me into the brambles of the forest. I land on my side hard, pain spreading all over my body.
"I WANT HER BACK!" the hunter yells, pained and raging.
Finn cries out in agony. I roll onto my back and look at them. Finn stumbles back while the hunter swings a hatchet and strikes one of the advancing knights through the head, shattering it to a pile of tinkling glass shards. The remaining two knights shriek and draw their swords, advancing towards the hunter! Now's my chance! Despite all my burning pain, I pick myself up and run into the darkness away from the clashing weapons. I'm not sure whether I'm heading towards Ravenna or if I'm running away from her. I've lost my sense of direction, but I can't stop and get my bearings! I must keep going! I use my hands nearly as much as my feet to clamber blindly through the forest.
I cannot look back. I must keep pushing forward! There's no way that hunter will survive the battle. It's one man against a man whose eyes I had gouged out earlier but now can see, and three demons! At least it'll be one less person to hunt me.
Footsteps approach fast behind me, snapping twigs and splintering thick roots beneath them! I cannot resist the urge. I look back. A massive shadow comes up fast! The hunter!
"OVER HERE!" I shout, hoping to draw Finn and the knights to finish him off—the hunter clasps his filthy hand over my mouth and rams my back into a tree, pinning me against it with his heavy, solid body! Another spasm of pain wracks through my back and side! I cry out, my voice muffled against his hand! This cannot be happening!
"Shh, shh, shh, quiet!" he whispers, the hot smell of ale burning my nose.
"Hmm!" I try shaking my head to get his hand off my mouth, but he presses his hand harder into me, locking my head in place!
"Quiet, alright!?" he says. "Or I'll snap yer neck!"
My blood runs colder than the frigid air of the forest. I force myself to quiet down. My heart pounds against his solid stomach. Fear is trying to eat me alive, but I do my best to keep my mind clear enough to think. Whatever he is wearing is stiff, icy cold, and hard against my bare chest. Thank God for the darkness. It hides my nakedness from the hunter, but I doubt that makes little difference with his body leaning into mine feeling every bit of me.
"Good," he says. He glances over his shoulder and looks down at me, his face completely hidden in the darkness of this forest. I bet this hunter has a face only the devil would love.
"I'm gonna let ye go and ye are gonna be quiet. I dinnae want to hear ye breathe! If I do, I will kill ye," he whispers, some strange accent thick in his voice. He shakes me once. "Ye understand!?"
I gulp, struggling to breathe from his body crushing my chest. He's lying. He's going to snap my neck! I have to do something to stop him. I nod against his hand, frightened beyond all telling as I lift my hand and ghost my fingers along his hip, my fingertips brushing over the cold hilt of something—knife, hatchet, sword, I care not!
"Good," he whispers, slowly pulling his hand from my mouth. I draw his weapon from its sheath and slash his side! He hisses and stumbles back, freeing me! I watch him stop a few feet from me, clutching his side. He keeps quiet while he lifts the shadow of his head to me. I almost turn and run, but I don't. If I don't end him now, he will pursue me, catch me, and kill me out of vengeance, but God above only knows what he will do to me before he kills me!
I charge, aiming his knife for his chest—he catches my hands in his and rams my back against the same tree, shocking me with another spasm of fire throughout my back and side. A wail of pain and despair escapes me. Tears sting my eyes and spill down my cheeks. So this is my end? This hunter, this stranger, is going to make me know hell intimately, and then at the height of humiliation and shame, he will snap my neck.
"Hell, lass!" he snarls. He pounds my hand against the tree, a shockwave of pain ripping through my hand and forcing the hilt out of my grasp. The knife clacks among the twigs and brambles somewhere by his feet.
"Please don't kill me!" I say, struggling to keep my sobs quiet. I know it's useless, especially after I tried to kill him.
He chuckles darkly, pinning my hands harder against the tree. "Ye tried to kill me! Ye failed, and now ye're beggin' for mercy. Nae wonder the Queen wants ye brought back."
"God no!" I choke out. "Please, she's going to kill me! She's going to kill me!" I gasp and sob, my eyes falling shut. "I don't want to die!" I shake my head, hopelessness sinking its claws into me and dragging me down to the depths of doom. I just want to wake up from this nightmare. Please, I've had enough of this! "I don't want to die." I weep softly, my chest trembling, wet tears streaming down my cheeks. Sara gave me the most precious gift of hope. She is the reason I am still here. Even when I held that noose in my hands, I found myself fearing a hell worse than my cell. I don't want to go to hell, at least not before I have had the chance to mend my ways! At least not before I have had the chance to fulfill the favor Sara asked of me and to keep my promise to Greta!
"Ah! I dinnae want to kill ye," the hunter whispers, his tone softer but menacing all the same. Sympathy is not something that is natural to him. Mercy is not woven into his soul. "I want to let ye go and leave ye far behind! But if I let ye go this time, how do I know that ye're no' gonna try to kill me again!?" The foul stench of ale is strong on his breath. He's a drunkard, no doubt.
I lift my head to him and open my eyes, my brows furrowing. "You'll truly let me go? You won't kill me?"
He sighs, exasperated. "I willnae kill ye unless ye give me a reason to."
I swallow. "What do I have to do to save my life?"
His grip tightens about my hands, so close to shattering my bones. I grit my teeth against the crushing pain in my hands.
"Keep quiet and try no' to kill me. Ye do both, I'll spare ye. Ye understand?"
Do I understand? He asks me this as if he just tried to explain to me some incomprehensible riddle. It's simple enough. Keep quiet and try not to kill him, and he will let me live. Simple.
How I want to curse this demon, but I bite my tongue and nod once. "I understand," I say, my voice hoarse with tears.
He nods as he says, "Good." He slowly loosens his death grip of my hands and steps far back from me.
I gasp and shudder with a mix of relief, persisting fear, and the cold that instantly fills the space between us and bites into my naked flesh. I wrap my arms about my bare breasts to hide them and yank my dress back up my shoulders even though he only sees my shadow. He stoops low and picks something up, metal scraping along the twigs and brambles. As he rises, the shadow of his knife emerges from the darkness, its hilt clenched in his bear-sized fist. My heart skips a beat. How I want to scramble back and melt into the tree to hide from him, but the bark is as solid as him.
He sheathes his knife at his hip and turns from me, holding his hand to his right side while he walks away, his steps now as silent as a ghost. His shadow shrinks against the unnatural grey glow of the forest and the black outlines of the trees. He moves through the trees with the grace and stealth of a nightcat despite his colossal size. The farther he goes, the more the empty, threatening air of this dark forest closes in about me. I hug myself for some warmth. God, I had not noticed it before, but with him practically smothering me against the tree, he blocked out the threatening air like a shield. It may be because the fear he creates blocks out everything else. Regardless, he was a shield against this dark forest's threatening void and against its cold.
Urgency and desperation rise up in me and threaten to take control of me. He wants to leave me far behind, he said. I know he said that, but he did not kill me. A little warmth returns to my blood while my chest tightens and swells. What am I thinking!? It's questionable at best if he spared me or not! He is a tracker and a hunter. He knows that he has left me at the mercy of this dark, merciless forest. He knows the black glass knights and their hunting hounds will find me. Either the forest or Ravenna will kill me. There is no way I can get out of here alive on my own, and he is still walking away from me with this knowledge. He knows he is the only one who can get me out of here alive. Yet he said he did not want to kill me. By abandoning me, he is!
"Coward!" I rush after him, stumbling and clambering over the treacherous terrain, not caring who or what hears me.
He halts in his steps and looks back at me. "Shut up!" he whispers.
"Hypocrite!" I get within five feet of him and stop, grabbing at a thick tree beside me to regain my footing, snapping and cracking sticks and twigs underfoot. He turns to me and advances, but I dodge behind the tree, only poking my head out. "You are killing me either way!" I whisper.
He halts in his advance just around the tree. "What th'hell is wrong with ye!?" he whispers back. "Do ye want to die!?"
"No!" I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. "That's why I came running to you."
"What!?" he whispers. "Ye dinnae want to die, so ye shout and come runnin' after me after I told ye that if ye make noise, I would kill ye!"
I sniffle and shake my head at him, clinging to the tree for my life. "Then why are you just standing there? Why aren't you swinging your hatchet at my neck? You could cut off my head easily, one swing, that's all it takes." I should not taunt him like this. I should not, but then why is he just standing there? I watch him, waiting for him to draw his hatchet out of his shadow and lop off my head. I wait…and wait…his hands remain at his sides—he steps around the tree and comes right up to me, putting his face directly over mine. Fear comes over me, forcing me to shrink beneath him despite my want not to.
"Who are ye?" he asks gruffly, but quietly. "What did ye do? Why does the Queen want to cut out yer heart and eat it?"
"What did I do!?" Why do I keep being asked that!? "I did nothing! I'm–I'm not a criminal, if that's what you're asking! And I don't know why the Queen wants to cut out my heart and eat it! Believe me, I wish I knew as much as you do! Perhaps more so!"
He scoffs at me. "Ye failed to answer my first question. Who are ye?"
My brows furrow. "You are – or were the one hunting me. You should know."
He growls, striking more fear into my heart. "The Queen would no' tell me, but maybe ye would be kind enough to enlighten me."
I…I cannot tell him who I am. There is a reason Ravenna did not tell him who I am. It might be because if he knew how important I am to her, he would refuse to hunt me down without a thought. I cannot trust him. If he learned my true name, he would abandon me without a thought to save his own skin. He's a coward, a hypocrite, and a selfish bastard, and I have to use all those so that I can reach Hammond's fortress and fulfill the favor Sara asked of me and fulfill my promise to Greta.
"I'm the daughter of a scullery maid who was imprisoned falsely. I know Duke Hammond, I know Willia–Prince William." My stomach knots. I hope I did not just give myself away. No common folk would ever dare to address nobility by their name alone. I swallow and whisper, "I know them and they know me. Lead me safely, not just out of this dark forest, but to Hammond's fortress, and you will be highly rewarded with whatever you want—gold, horses, land, weapons."
He scoffs at me and chuckles darkly, quietly. "Yer a quick, wee liar, I'll give ye that." He turns from me and starts walking away.
Panic fills me. "Please don't leave me!" I say, still remembering his threat to stay quiet. "I'm not lying! By God above, I'm not lying!"
He slows to a stop and looks up at the forest canopy. He sighs, dropping his massive shoulders. "I hate bein' lied to," he says. He turns back to face me. I no longer find this darkness a blessing. I wish there was enough light to see his face so I could see his expression and perhaps better judge his feelings and thoughts. I can only rely on the air about him and the sound of his bear-like voice.
I shake my head, trembling uncontrollably from my fear and the cold. "I'm not lying!"
He comes to me in two strides, forcing me to tilt my head all the way back just to see the shadow of his head. He lowers his face to mine, filling my sight with darkness. He draws so close that his hot, foul-smelling breath wafts over my face.
"I dinnae trust ye," he whispers.
I shake my head meekly. I hate how weak I am beneath him. I absolutely hate it. I hated trembling at Finn's feet, and I hate this just as much. And God, the hunter's breath! Nausea tightens my throat. I try to not retch. "Please help me. I'm not asking for your trust, but for your help."
Silence comes between us. Only the sound of our breathing fills the meager space separating us. He keeps looming over me. I cannot stop myself from trembling before him, half expecting him to tear my dress off me and make me know hell intimately…but he keeps his hands to himself. God, is he trying to make me break down and confess my lie!?
"Ye dinnae want my trust, but ye want my help," he mocks me, laughing as loudly as a whisper. "Curious. I'm no' sure what it is about ye. I know yer desperate, but are ye smart or are ye as stupid as I first thought?"
That stings my heart. His words should mean nothing to me, yet it still hurts.
"I don't trust you. I never will trust you, but you're the only one who can help me. Name your price – gold, horses, land, weapons, food, drink – any of these or all of these, it will be yours if you deliver me to Hammond's fortress alive."
The hunter lifts his face from mine, straightening his back. "Fifty gold pieces and a young, healthy horse with all her tack. That's my price."
My jaw drops. That's such a low price. I…I thought he would have asked for women, too. "That's it? That's all you want when you can have…Duke Hammond could make you wealthier than any Prince—"
"That's all I need," he says. He lifts his hand to his mouth, spits into it, and extends his hand to me. "Do we have a deal?"
I glance down at the shadow of his hand and cringe. I must shake that—God, it does not matter! He is offering me a deal! A rather cheap deal, at that. I look up at him. Too cheap of a deal. Does he have a sinister plan to turn a better profit at my expense? I don't trust him and he doesn't trust me. Granted, he has his reasons, but I also have mine—"Do we have a deal or no'!?" he whispers.
I swallow and release my embrace of the tree, turning around slowly to face him. "Deal." I take his gritty, slimy hand in mine and shake it as firmly as I can. I can never shut my eyes around him. I can never turn my back to him. His cheap price for such a steep job is too suspicious, too out of character. He agreed to hunt me down, a lowlife criminal and nothing more as far as he is concerned, in exchange for the hefty price of his wife's soul. God, how cruel and selfish of him to demand that his wife's soul be pulled out of her eternal rest, especially if she made it to heaven, to be brought back down to this earth to endure its horrors and sufferings again.
He pulls his hand from mine. "Follow me," he orders. "Keep quiet."
The hunter walks past me. I quickly turn to keep him in my sight. Never will I turn my back on him for the moment I do, he will betray me. I pick up my weak feet and follow him at a small distance, doing my best to keep quiet. I snap a few twigs and branches underfoot, but nothing that would draw too much attention…I pray.
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I keep following him at a small distance, stumbling and nearly falling just to keep up with him. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming in pain. The warm tang of iron touches my tongue, but it's either a small taste of my blood or crying out in agony and earning his hatchet lopping off my head. My back and side are a never ending fire consuming my flesh. I remember the pain of burning my left arm when I tried to burn Sara's corpse. I was in agony for weeks afterwards. No matter how much I nursed my arm, cleaned it, and wrapped it in the cleanest rags I could find, it still healed to be a hideous, disfiguring scar.
My mind turns to Finn and the black glass knights. Why did Ravenna have to hire this hunter to track me down? Why didn't Finn and the black glass knights pursue me on their own into this dark forest? I'm not sure how long I was unconscious for after I fell in that strange soft bed of something and choked on the black ash, but I did not go very deep into the forest. The black glass knights could have went around the muddy pit or even marched through it to capture me. Why did Ravenna have to go to the trouble of finding a man to hunt me down? I look up at the back of the hunter's head, his hair long and smooth on the top of his head—similar to the scruff of a brown bear. I want to ask him all these questions, but he could easily turn and lop off my head with one swing of his hidden hatchet. Must I keep quiet as he ordered me to do? Surely if I whisper, then he will tolerate my questions. Perhaps he will even answer them.
I open my mouth to speak, but I stop. How do I address him? He's been called a widower, a coward, and a hypocrite, but Finn never said his name. I keep thinking of him as hunter, but do I call him that? Dare I ask him what his name is? I sigh. There's only one way to find out.
"Hunter?" I call to him softly, keeping my voice low.
"Shh!"
The hair on the back of my neck bristles. How I want to curse the bastard, but for the sake of my promise to Greta and the favor Sara asked of me, I refrain. However, will he attempt to kill me if I dare to draw closer to him so that I can ask him the questions I need answers to? I breathe in deep, bracing myself for the spasms of pain I'm about to create. I quicken my steps. Each step that comes down on the earth sends another stabbing of fire into my back and side, but I manage to keep quiet and close the distance between us enough to whisper.
He glances back at me, but he keeps slinking through the trees like a nightcat on the prowl. I wonder if he has a look of annoyance on his ugly face.
"Hunter, please speak with me for a moment and no more than that," I whisper. "I need to know happened what to Finn and the black glass knights that came into this forest with you. Did you kill Finn?"
"Black glass knights?" the hunter asks, not sparing me a glance. "Never heard someone call them that before, but nae, I didnae kill him. I kicked the bastard into a bed of black blight shrooms. He willnae be returnin' to his Queen for five days at least if he's fortunate. If we're the fortunate ones, this forest will kill him."
I frown at the hunter. Though part of me wishes for the relief of Finn's end, another part of my heart aches. Though I have no love for the man, though every heart beat of his is filled with evil, Ravenna has love in her heart...or she did? God, I do not know! Surely she must still love her brother! Losing a brother...I dare say it's different to losing one's parent. In a way, I lost my own brothers. William and Wessel. Another sharp pang enters my heart whilst an inkling of hate crops up for the latter man. Is Wessel even alive?
"As for those black glass knights, I shattered 'em, but they cannae be killed," the hunter says, bringing me back to this moment. Don't think of them now, Snow. Put your brothers from your mind.
"Those black glass knights are not living. Not like you…" My frown deepens. "Not like me."
"Good, now shh—"
"MM!" A sharp spasm of fire shoots across my back and side. My hands clutch my right side. I try to keep up with him, but the burning pain forces me to stop. I lean against a tree for support and look up to the hunter, watching him as he turns and comes back to me quietly.
"What's wrong with ye?" he asks, annoyed.
I clench my jaw, praying quietly that this pain subsides. This bastard has no compassion. "Nothing," I force out and grimace.
"It's yer wound," he says, so matter-of-fact.
My brows furrow while a troubling thought crosses my mind. "How do you know that? How well can you see me in this dark forest?"
"I only see yer shadow, but I know ye are wounded because I found a broken arrow shaft in the mud by the sewer when I was retracin' yer steps."
"Oh," I say, my pain starting to subside. I just needed to stop for a moment. "I was shot in the back—"
"I know."
I grit my teeth to keep from cursing him aloud. Arrogant bastard. "I fear infection will set in. Can you treat my wound?"
The hunter shakes his head. "There's nothin' I can do for ye here. It'll be five days before we get out of this cursed forest and another day after that before we reach the nearest settlement that can help ye."
Desperation and despair drag me down. "Oh God!" I lean my head back against the hard, rough bark of the tree and squeeze my eyes shut, forcing out a few tears. Give five days, infection will set in and become too widespread in my blood to treat and save me. "I cannot die here." I shake my head and force my eyes open, staring up at blackness. "I cannot." For all that Sara gave up for me—for Greta and Sara, I cannot.
The hunter sighs. "Let's go a wee bit farther and then we'll stop to rest." His words draw my teary eyes down to him. "I'll start a fire so I can take a look at yer wound and see if there's anythin' I can do to help ye."
I perk up, some foreign, unseen force lifting my heart. "You'll help me?" Wait. It is likely that he has some sinister plan to use me for his own gain. "Why are you willing to help me? What's in it for you?"
He scoffs and shakes his head. "I can leave ye here with nae qualms or I can try to help ye and get fifty gold pieces and a new horse for all this damn trouble. It's yer choice."
"Really?" I raise my brows at him. "All you want is fifty gold pieces and a horse? At your price, you make it sound as if reaching Hammond's fortress is just a stroll down the beach on a summer day."
"What is with ye!? Ye want me to leave ye here!? Just tell me to, I will! Hell, I'll sleep easier if I do—"
"No!" I plead, panicking. I am once again at the mercy of a man who has none. "I'm sorry, please don't leave me. Please help me."
I feel the weight of his eyes on me, judging me, silently cursing me. He laughs suddenly. "Ye are off yer head." He turns from me and starts walking away!
Panic takes hold of me and I rush after him, clutching my side tighter to help lessen my pain. "Please don't leave me!"
"Then follow me, do as I say, and keep quiet," he commands, not glancing back at me. Snap, snap, snap, snap. I cringe and try to step lighter so that I don't snap too many twigs underfoot.
"Once we find the clearin', we'll stop there and rest. I'll build a fire and take a look at yer wound. If there's anythin' I can do to help ye, I will do it," he whispers.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
I follow him as best as I can, but the distance between us slowly grows. I clutch my side so tight that my fingernails dig into my skin through my thin dress. My back and side still hurt terribly, but feeling the ten points of stinging beneath my fingernails distracts me just enough to keep after him. My legs wobble more with each step, exhaustion making my body feel ten times heavier than it is. The bitter cold of winter has numbed most of my body except for the fiery pain in my back and side. My body shivers. My teeth chatter. God, any colder, and this winter may claim more of my toes! It may even claim my fingers! Oh, I cannot think of this now. The fear of losing toes and fingers will only slow me down more.
The hunter weaves through the trees like a nightcat, as if this dark forest is his hunting grounds. He knows exactly where to step in the black void of the forest floor, his steps silent while mine snap, snap, cr-cr-crack…snap. Why do we have to keep quiet? Is there something out there in the darkness that he is trying to evade—Something grabs hold of my sleeve and tugs back, a sharp line pressing into my collarbone and shoulder. My dress tears loudly! My ears burn from the sound while the cold assaults my breasts and right arm. My left sleeve slips down my arm and hand, every bit of me above my belt naked to the young winter cold.
The hunter stops and looks back at me, halting me. "What was that!?" he whispers.
My face flushes with humiliation and shame despite the frigid air. Warm tears prickle in my eyes and drip down my cheeks, quickly turning to little ice drops on my skin. I wrap my arms about myself and fight to keep from crying, but a sob escapes me. "Nothing," I say with tears. "Let's just…keep moving."
The hunter scoffs and comes toward me! Fear churns my stomach. I gasp and stumble out of his way. He ignores me and comes up to the tree my dress had caught on. He plucks the torn piece of my dress off the branch and stuffs it into something at his hip. Disgust and shame come over me as he stoops low and picks up another piece of my dress, shoving it into some kind of large pouch at his side. He hasn't laid a finger on me since he thwarted my attempt to kill him, but watching him collect every torn piece of my dress feels as though he is touching me with lustful, evil intent.
"What are you doing?" I ask him, hugging myself tighter.
He huffs with annoyance and straightens, turning the shadow of his head to look down at me. "We cannae leave any trace of us behind. I might be able to use these rags for yer wound. Now com'on!" He gestures for me to follow him as he turns and treads onward. "It's just a bit farther. There's a decent spot I know of where we can rest for the night."
I follow him. I want to ask him what he means by night, but my humiliation and pain keeps me silent. It looks like eternal night in this dark forest with only an ethereal grey glow to provide any light, so how he knows if it is day or night is beyond me. My heart beats faster. He mentioned earlier that he will start a fire so that he can see my wound. If he does that, he will see my nakedness! My breathing quickens. What is to stop him from forcing himself on me? I may be an unpleasant sight for any man with how bony I am, barely any soft fat on me, but Finn saw no problem with that nor did any of the men who would come with him to laugh at me and mock me. I can still hear their cruel laughter and see their hideous faces twisting as they pleasured themselves at my bars…and while Finn forced me to—no, I cannot think of it!
"Stop," the hunter whispers, holding his arm out in front of me.
I stop just before I bump into his arm and look up at him. "Yo-you don't—"
"Shh!" He holds his finger up, silencing me. "Stay here. Dinnae move."
"What!?" I watch him closely, waiting for him to turn on me and force me against one of the trees. He does not look back at me, but he stalks off towards the cluster of trees. My fear starts growing.
"Hunter?" I whisper after him. He waves me off and steps behind a large, twisted tree. I look to the other side of the tree, waiting for his shadow to emerge...waiting…waiting...fear claws its way up my stomach and into my chest. Where did he go!? He—he just left me here!
I step quickly towards the cluster of trees he disappeared into, crack, snap. "Hunter!?"
A low, clicking growl comes from the trees. I halt and try to keep quiet. My teeth chatter. Branches snap and crunch beneath the charge of thunderous feet! I whimper and stumble back a few steps. He said to stay quiet, stay here, and don't move. Should I listen? Is he planning to let whatever that is kill me!? Do I turn and run!?
The animal's screech stings my ears and rattles my chest! The wall of brambles burst open, broken bits of branches flying out from the gaping grey hole. A glistening black blur leaps out of the hole into the clearing with me! I scream. It's nearly pitch black, but I can just see the black serpentine creature. Two scarlet embers light up in the darkness—no, eyes! Glowing scarlet eyes!
The black serpent screeches. His screech tapers off to its low, clicking growl. He lowers its snake-like head and stalks back and forth along the edge of the clearing, his burning eyes not straying from me. He stalks back and forth, back and forth, his fiery eyes growing larger, his steps growing louder. He's coming closer!
My breaths come and go in fast, short spurts. Dinnae move. The hunter's warning echoes in my mind, but I stumble back as the serpentine beast draws closer. Damn that hunter! I hope he burns in hell! He left me here to let this creature kill me! Indeed, this creature intends to kill me. He stalks back and forth, light glistening off his black scales. He watches me with his burning scarlet eyes, waiting for me to open myself up to an attack.
Despair grabs me. I cannot fight this creature off. I cannot flee. He will catch me if I try to flee. Perhaps he will prolong my death by playing with me as a cat plays with a mouse. So this is how I die—The creature coils back and lunges for me!—A black blur plows into the creature's side, knocking him out of his lunge midair! He crashes into the forest, snapping and breaking tree branches. The create screeches and howls painfully. He thrashes and whips his long spiked tail about, cracking large branches beneath him. He beats the air with two heavy black flaps coming from his back. Those are two wings coming from his back! This creature is some sort of dragon!
The colossal shadow of a man charges into sight, his steps silent. The hunter! He rushes towards the thrashing creature and brings his hatchet down on the creature's head with a loud crunch. The creature falls silent. His tail drops into the black void of the forest floor with a thud. Even though the creature intended to kill me, I cannot help but feel sorry for him.
My chest tightens and burns. Damn the hunter! "You coward! You ran away and left me to that poor creature!"
The hunter growls and rips his hatchet and his other weapon out of the dragon's corpse, the shadow of his mystery weapon shaped just like his hatchet! He has two hatchets!? He sheaves his—twin hatchets somewhere within his shadow and turns to me. "I didnae run away. This oulinder would've killed us both if I had no' used ye as bait and caught him by surprise."
My jaw drops. I'm...should I even thank him? He left me without telling me his plan! "Why didn't you tell me that was your plan!? You made me believe that you had left me." Panic runs through me, adding fuel to my burning anger. "God, if you weren't quick enough!—"
"There was nae time to tell ye my plan, only time to act! I saved yer life twice and I huvnae heard a word of thanks!" he whispers, just as angry as me.
I stiffen and bite my tongue, hugging myself tighter. Bastard. He left me exposed and defenseless to that dragon…but he came back and killed the poor creature just before he could reach me. Perhaps if the hunter had stayed with me, the creature would have killed us both. The dragon did appear rather quickly after the hunter vanished. There is no way the hunter would have been able to explain everything to me in time, let alone his plan. I would have questioned it too much. I sigh, my anger melting away. Perhaps if I had listened to him, didn't move and kept quiet, then maybe the creature would not have lunged at me so quickly.
I gulp what little pride I have down into my aching, hollow gullet. "I'm sorry, you've…" I hate this feeling of being called out for my wrongdoing. It's one thing for me to call out myself for doing something wrong, but for someone else to hold me accountable…I do not recall a time where someone has held me accountable for my wrongdoings as this hunter has. Papa and Mama would barely chide me for my wrongdoings. When I wanted Greta to hold me accountable, she never did. By doing that, she denied me her forgiveness.
"I'm sorry. Thank you," I whisper.
He breathes out slowly, his massive shoulders relaxing. "Yer welcome. We'll stay here for the night." He turns from me.
"Here!?" I whisper aloud. "Beside that poor dead – oulinder!?"
"Aye," he says, nonchalant about spending the night beside a corpse! "This is the safest place we can be right now." He goes about the small clearing, scooping up twigs and brambles in his hands.
I clench my jaw in annoyance. "Could you please explain to me how this is the safest place to be right beside a corpse that will surely attract other predators!?" I almost gesture to the corpse, but I remember my nakedness and keep my arms about me.
He stops collecting twigs and brambles and comes right up to me, tossing the two bunches at my feet. "If ye stop actin' like a spoiled princess and help me gather kindlin' for the fire, then I'll tell ye what I know about oulinders."
A chill shoots down my spine. Just hearing him say princess…even though he isn't, it feels as though he is getting closer to discovering my lie. The only thing I can do is keep calm, stay true to my lie, and not create new lies. Creating new lies will be a dead giveaway.
"Fine," I say. I suck in a hard breath and pull my trembling arms from my breasts.
"Tsk." He shakes his head at me and goes about the clearing, drawing his hatchet from his shadow and hacking at thicker branches, cracking them apart to turn them into logs. I tremble at the sight of his hatchet's shadow and carefully move about, making sure to keep facing him at all times. I pick up smooth twigs, avoiding the thorny brambles that litter the forest floor.
"So, oulinders," he starts, keeping his voice low as he sheathes his hatchet and gathers up the logs he cut. "They are forest-dwellin' dragons that cannae fly. They used to be as docile as tamed sheep and only ate the grass that once covered this forest floor. Now, with nae plant life, they have turned to eatin' the meat of whatever they can find. Alive or dead, it disnae matter."
I nod and come up to the pile of twigs and brambles that he started, tossing my collection atop it.
"Oulinders stay far away from the scent of their blood, so spendin' the night next to this bleedin' corpse keeps us safe from other oulinders. They also fear fire, so buildin' a fire is a smart thin' to do. They cannae breathe fire themselves." He comes up beside me and drops his logs onto the pile, his clothing brushing against my frozen arm! The brief contact zaps me. I jump away, wrapping my arms about myself. I keep my eyes trained on him.
He looks at me, the darkness hiding his expression. "What is wrong with ye!?" he asks, bewildered and mocking at the same time.
"I don't trust you. I'm not taking my eyes off you nor am I turning my back to you, for the moment I do, you'll—" Should I be saying this? Is it good to let him know that I'm onto his sinister plot, or have I just opened myself up to an attack from him?
"I'll what?" he asks. "I'm no' sure what lunacy is goin' on in that head of yers, but if I was gonna do anythin' to harm ye, I would have done it by now." He turns his back to me and scoops up a bunch of brambles and twigs. "Are ye gonna try to kill me in my sleep?"
Panic grips me. "Nonono, absolutely not! I would be a fool to try such a thing." My heart thrums with fear.
"Aye, ye would be." He drops more twigs and brambles onto the pile and rubs his hands together. "That should be enough," he whispers to himself.
Silence fills the space between us while he crouches, sinking himself into the black void until only the shadow of his massive shoulders and head remain against the grey glow of the forest. His shoulders move while his leathers shift over each other. I hug myself tighter.
"Are you going to light a fire?" I whisper. He sighs tiredly, but he does not answer.
STRIKE! Orange sparks fly out and fade into the black void. He must have a piece of flint in his hand and either a rock or a proper piece of iron in the other, perhaps one of his knives. He strikes, strikes, strikes, most of his strikes producing orange sparks. I whimper and sink to the forest floor. I draw my knees to my chest and let my long hair fall past my shoulders, providing me some cover from his eyes for when he has the fire going.
STRIKE! A small orange ember freezes in the air and steadily grows. It bounces up higher in the black void and the sound of someone blowing out his breath tickles my ears. The ember brightens and grows. A small flame erupts from the orange ember, casting some light on the hunter's face. My heart jumps. My breath sticks in my throat, but he lowers the little flame before I can fully take him in. I would follow the flame, but my eyes are stuck where I saw a bit of his face—his beard, his mouth, his nose, his dark lashes. It was a brief glimpse of him, but seeing a bit of his face struck me like a lightning bolt. Even though the bolt struck once, it has left the air like a net filled to its brim with thrashing fish.
The small flame crackles and grows bigger in the bottom of my sight, slowly illuminating more and more of his colossal shadow. I release a shaky breath, a cloud of vapor billowing into the air before dissipating. He looks as menacing as he sounds, covered from head to toe in brown leathers. Five buckles are fastened across his vest, one of them securing a studded epaulet to his left chest. Two thick belts go about his waist, sporting several sheathes that almost burst with knives like a lover's bouquet. I find myself gazing longingly at his thick leather coat while he pokes at the growing fire, a pang of envy in my heart. It's a rather nice coat, long thick leather, a short cape about his shoulders to help keep rain off him, and a separate leather hood fastened about his shoulders and throat. How warm that must keep him—He lifts his eyes to mine, his shoulder slowing to a stop with his poking motions.
The fire burns in his eyes. It's not the flames, but his eyes that snare me like a rabbit caught in his trap. My heart flutters as hot blood floods my loins. I clench my thighs together, frightened by this…physical reaction to him. Why am I reacting this way to him? His eyes slowly drift down to the toes of my boots. Despite the distance between us, the weight of his gaze feels like he is running his hands all over me.
His eyes lift to mine while he sits back and sets his poking stick aside. "Com'ere." He waves his hand for me to come over to him! "I'll take a look at yer wound—"
"No," I say, hugging myself ever tighter.
His brows furrow while he rests his arm on his upraised knee. "Ye were just beggin' me to treat yer wound—"
"Look at me!" I tuck my chin between my knees, curling up into a ball. Tears well in my eyes. "I'm…I'm—" He gets up suddenly and stalks around the fire, drawing closer to me! I scramble back from him, struggling to keep one arm about my chest. Fire rips through my back and side! I cry out.
"Stop!" he says, halting and holding his hand out to me. I almost scramble back farther, but I manage to stop. I watch him closely while he watches me carefully.
"Easy," he whispers as he slowly crouches. He slowly lowers his hand to his side and shakes his head. "I willnae hurt ye." He holds both of his hands up, showing me his empty bear-sized palms. He moves his hands slowly as he grabs one of the straps going across his body and lifts it over his head, setting his satchel on the ground beside him. What is he doing? He slowly moves his hands behind his back and tugs one of his coat sleeves down his arm. Is he undressing himself to assault me!? I start shaking my head and move to scramble back—he pulls his other coat sleeve down his arm and holds his coat out to me. I stop moving, holding my breath.
"Take my coat. Put it on," he says. Is he…is he offering me his coat? In this cold!? No, he wouldn't do something like that. This cannot be happening. This all must still be a dream, and he is a figment of my imagination. Besides, what is he gaining by giving up his coat to clothe me?
He looks down at his coat and back at me. "Go on, take it. It'll keep ye warm."
I don't take my eyes off of him as I draw as near as I dare to him and snatch his coat out of his grasp. I hold his coat to my chest, waiting for him to look away.
His brows furrow. "Dinnae ye know how to put on a coat? Put it on!"
I shake my head at him. "Look away. I don't want you to see me…" I don't want to say it.
He turns his head from me. I keep my eyes on him while I shake out his coat, push my arms into his oversized sleeves, and wrap his coat about me. His sleeves are so long that they cover my hands, but that is a good thing. Warmth grows and envelops me almost immediately. My God, I'm…warm! I've never felt such wonderful warmth in fourteen years. I sigh like I have never sighed before and let my eyes drift shut...for the first time in fourteen years. I doubt the hunter would slaughter me now. Why would he want to get my blood all over his wonderful coat?
"Better?"
My eyes spring open. He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to answer. I manage to tear my eyes from his and look over the rest of his face. His features are strong and menacing...but there is a gentleness to them that smoothes most of the rough angles. Much like a bear's face. His beard is thick and scruffy and his hair is long, greasy, and half tied back, making him look like a barbarian. I breathe out and hug his coat tighter to me, looking over the rest of him. He still wears his leather hood. He is also wearing a brown leather vest, matching bracers, and a thick woolen shirt beneath his vest. Even though he gave me his coat, he is still clothed properly for this brutal winter. He didn't give up too much for me, but…well, perhaps there is some shred of compassion in him, however pathetically small that shred may be.
I look him in his eyes and give him a shaky nod even though my shivering and my chattering teeth have stopped. "Much better. Thank you."
He nods. "Yer welcome." He gestures to me with his hand. "Want me to check yer wound, or leave ye be?"
I swallow and loosen my grip on his coat. "It's–it's best if you look at my wound and see if there's anything you can do for me."
He tilts his head, eyeing me cautiously. "Are ye sure? I can leave ye alone—"
"No, please." I shake with nerves as I slowly turn my back to him, putting him out of my sight. I gulp hard and carefully gather up his coat to expose my wound to him and to the biting cold again. "It's…it's here, I think."
He moves silently, but I feel his presence come over me. I inhale a shaky breath, a strong scent of earth and dry wood filling up my nose and lungs. My eyes widen. That's his scent, smelling of earth and dry wood. It's not an unpleasant scent, far better than the foul ale on his breath.
"Hmph," he huffs to himself. Something touches my back! I yelp and scramble away from the touch, cringing when another wave of fire washes over my back and side. I glance back at the hunter, his eyes wide with surprise and his hands held in surrender.
"I dinnae know who or what made ye like this, but I mean ye nae harm," he says, his surprise fading from his eyes. "Ye want me to leave ye alone, just tell me—"
"No, please, I won't jump away again. I promise." I look away from him and close my eyes, baring my back to him again. "I don't trust you, but I need your help. I fear death more than you."
He sighs. "Alright."
He moves close to me again. I take in a deep breath and prepare myself for his touch. When he touches you, do not move. No matter how much you fear him, no matter how strongly you feel the urge to flee, you must endure this to get help.
"I see yer wound," he says, keeping his voice low. "I see the broken tip of the arrow's shaft. Yer wound looks deep, and it's already red."
I breathe out with despair. "It's already infected."
"Aye."
Tears well in my eyes and I bury my face in my hand, still holding his coat above my wound in my other hand. "Is there anything you can do for me?" I ask, tears in my voice.
"No' much, but I can pour some of my ale on yer wound. It willnae get rid of the infection, but it may slow it."
I sob once and drop my hand in my lap. "I think the head is barbed. Do you have two feathers to work it out?"
"Nae…," he trails off, suspicion creeping into his voice. My heart beats harder and faster. Why does he sound that way? Surely he is not onto my lies yet! What could I have possibly said to give away my true name!?— "Nae, I cannae pull it out," he says, his suspicion gone. "If I do, ye'll bleed out. I can pour some of my ale on it, though. Lie down on yer stomach."
I nod shakily and lie prostrate on the forest floor. His coat offers a thick layer against the sharp twigs and thorny brambles. I fold my arms in front of me and rest my cheek on my arm. The hunter moves about behind me, rustling something. I lift my head and peek over my shoulder. He rummages through his satchel, searching for something. I know where his suspicion came from. How could a girl, a prisoner like me know that about a barbed arrowhead? God, it's best to feign ignorance of anything more pertaining to archery in his presence. One strange detail, and it can tip him off. One peculiar truth, and he will kill me.
He pulls a corked leather skin out of his satchel. His eyes go to my back as he steps lightly to my side and pops the cork out of his skin. He looks down at me as he crouches, holding the attached cork between his fingers. "I'm gonna grab yer shoulder and pour some of this on yer wound." He lifts his skin a little. "Ye might want to bite somethin'. This will burn like hell."
My heart takes off racing. I manage to nod once. I turn my head from him and bite into his coat sleeve, grimacing from the stiff leather and the icy dirt specs that stick to my tongue. I squeeze my teary eyes shut and brace myself. He grabs a tight hold of my shoulder and leans some of his weight onto his hand, pinning me to the forest floor. Fear fills me. How badly is this going to hurt—something cold and dry splashes onto my wound. I blink once and a burning pain nearly as painful as the instant the arrow pierced me torments my wound! I whimper into his coat sleeve. He ends the stream of ale and releases my shoulder.
"We'll see what that does," he mutters. The burning pain subsides, leaving me spent. He pulls his coat down over my wound, covering me. "Try to get some sleep," he whispers. I take my mouth off his coat and spit out the dirt. I glance back at him. He takes a long swig of ale from his skin. I frown. I know he's a drunkard. I just hope his drinking does not interfere with the journey to Hammond's fortress.
"Thank you," I tell him. I could say something smart about his drinking, but it's best not to poke the calm bear.
He pulls his waterskin from his mouth and looks down at me, nodding. "Go to sleep." He gets up and walks out of my sight. A flash of panic twists my stomach. Is he leaving!? I turn my head and watch him walk to the other side of the fire. He presses his back against a tree and slides down it to sit on the forest floor, unaware that I'm watching him. He takes another long swig from his aleskin and lowers it, his eyes falling on the dead oulinder. I don't think he's going anywhere, not without his coat and his satchel.
My nerves calm a little. I let myself enjoy the faint heat of the fire on my face and hands. I roll over onto my side and find Sara's ring within the folds of his coat. I grab the warmed metal and cling to it. Perhaps there is hope after all, but there is still the chance that I could die from the infection. I suppose…I suppose my life is in your hands, God. You are distant, aloof, and silent, but perhaps you will hear me now. Help me to survive. N for me, but for Sara and Greta. They both deserve the best from me, so please give me the chance to fulfill my promise to Greta and the favor Sara asked of me. Please.
I blink a few times, my eyes so heavy. I blink and blink until darkness claims me.