Page 19 of Heart of the Hunter (Band of Bastards #3)

A nora had no idea where she was or which direction was home, but still she walked out of the hut and closed the door behind her.

The night did not appear quite so dark and the rain had thankfully eased while she’d been arguing with Hunter about whether or not she needed a husband to fix everything for her.

Willow immediately nudged her with her muzzle and stomped a hoof into the soft earth.

“Aye, girl, we will be on our way soon,” she muttered to her horse just as the door opened behind her. She stepped to the side as Hunter emerged with the bowls from their dinner in his hand.

From the dim light spilling through the doorway, she watched him duck between the slats of wood fencing that enclosed the far end of the horse shelter.

The inky blackness from earlier had turned to an eerie gray and she could see Hunter’s silhouette among the trees as he looked to the sky and turned in a circle.

Appearing satisfied with the conditions, he emitted a sharp whistle.

“If you will wait for me to rinse the bowls and summon Shadow, I will guide you from here.” His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. At least he’d had the decency not to command her to wait for him.

“Another truce then,” she agreed with a nod, “for the sake of expedient travel.”

“Aye, another truce,” he said over his shoulder as he walked deeper into the trees and disappeared.

She slung her saddle bag over a slat and saddled Willow while she waited for Hunter to return. He reappeared moments later with his horse in tow. Anora took the bowls from him to return to the sideboard in the hut while he saddled Shadow.

“I put your blanket in your bag,” she said as she pulled the door to the hut closed behind her. She held out Hunter’s heavy saddle bags to him. “And I doused the fire with the sand from the bucket.”

He nodded his thanks as he reached for the saddle bags. “Do you need a leg up?” he asked with a tilt of his head toward Willow.

Anora shook her head and loosened her mare’s reins from where they were looped through a ring on the wall of the shelter. She followed Hunter through the gate of the small encloser to where Shadow stood beneath a canopy of dripping leaves. “How far to Oswestry?”

“Less than two hours.” He finished tying the bags to the back of his saddle, then reached into one of them and pulled out a small bundle, which he handed to her. “Put this on, in case we encounter anyone on the journey.”

Anora unrolled the leather cap, pulled it over her head, and carefully tucked her disheveled braid and any loose strands of hair beneath it. She tilted her head down toward him then turned it side to side for his inspection. He nodded his approval, then swung smoothly onto Shadow’s back.

“Stay alert and as quiet as possible. Soldiers will be looking for us.”

“Do you think any of them recognized us?” Anora worried that she may bring danger to her father’s doorstep because of the encounter with the guards and their clumsy escape.

“I’m most concerned you may have been recognized by the guards from the woods. I didn’t have time to—” He looked away from her and sighed, then faced her again. “I think the second guard will recover. He probably didn’t get a good look at you in the dark, but if he did, it will be a problem.”

Anora’s skin prickled as an icy chill wrapped around her with a shiver.

“Are you all right?”

“I’ve been a fool.” She swallowed hard. Fear and regret gripped her throat as reality settled into her bones.

She had been stoic about the violence when they were making their escape, accepted it as necessary then dismissed it.

How could she have done that? “People died because of me. When did I become so heartless? Why didn’t I stop you? ”

“You become single-focused when under duress. The instinct is to survive, and your senses are dulled to anything else.”

“But did they have to die?”

“Aye,” Hunter said gruffly. “They did. Did you really think you could breach the walls of a fortress, steal whatever you planned to take, and walk out the front gate? Baron Payne would have had those guards flogged for letting that happen. And the guards would rather see you chained up in the dungeon than have their skin flayed open with a whip. This isn’t a game, Anora. ”

She clenched her teeth to keep her chin from quivering as she stared at him, processing everything he said. Her life wasn’t a game, either, but she seemed powerless to do anything about it.

“This is not a life you want, Anora.” His tone was angry, but she deserved nothing less.

“This is what it takes to rely on no one but yourself.” He grabbed her wrist in his firm grip and tugged her closer to him.

He looked like he wanted to chastise her more, but he stopped.

His shoulders dropped and the hard set of his lips softened.

“Do not think on it now. Think only of getting home without further incident.”

Anora bit the insides of her cheeks to focus her mind. She pulled her wrist gently from his grip and said, “Lead the way.”

For the next two hours, Willow plodded along behind Shadow as Hunter led them through the woods from one trail to the next. Occasionally, they would ride a short distance on the road, but then he’d veer into the trees again and they’d continue on under the cover of the forest and the dark.

And all the while, Anora thought about the men who died while they escaped Castle Whyte.

She tried to convince herself that it was because Hunter chose the difficult way out of the castle, and left to her own plan, violence would have been avoided.

But the truth of the matter was the world could be an unfair and ugly place.

She’d overheard Sumayl once tell her brother that men had to be prepared to kill or be killed at any given moment.

Hunter was well aware of the fact, and her fate may have been far worse if he hadn’t taken matters into his own hands.

Even those who didn’t trespass or pursue risky endeavors could find themselves in situations that were life or death.

As was the case when Baldwin was killed.

Her brother had done nothing to deserve his demise, but he’d died a hero trying to save others.

As sad as it was, it was not uncommon. Men and women died violently every day.

She didn’t know if she could take a man’s life with her own hands, but did that mean she had to give up goldsmithing and give herself over to a marriage she did not want just for the protection?

And if she gave up goldsmithing, what did she have left that mattered?

It was exhausting to think about, but it was something she had to sort out. And she would. But later, when she wasn’t tired, cold, and hungry.

The high walls of Oswestry came into view and relief like she’d never known coursed through Anora’s body. She could hardly wait to get home to crawl into her bed and sleep for days. “I can make my way from here.”

“I’m not leaving your side until I know you are safely home and under the protection of your father and Sumayl.”

“Fine.” She expected nothing less from Hunter, and as much as it irked her, she didn’t have the will to argue with him about it. “But there is no need to come into the house. That will just upset my father.”

Hunter stayed silent as Anora nudged Willow to quicken her pace toward the village.

She was eager to get home before her father sent someone to Widow Griswold’s cottage to check on her.

When she could, she lent a hand to the kindly woman who was left with five children to raise on her own after her husband’s death the previous winter.

With that many children and the wet autumn weather, it seemed at least one of them always had a cough or ran a fever.

As they approached the gate, Anora saw a familiar figure walking toward the village from the direction of the meadow where Willow was often turned out to graze. The man turned to see who approached and stopped when he recognized Anora.

“What are you doing here, Sumayl?” she asked the blacksmith. The worry on his face fueled the regret that churned in her stomach. If he was looking for her, then her father must know she wasn’t where she said she would be.

“It isn’t what you think, Sumayl,” Hunter said.

“It’s Frode you owe the explanation to, not me.

” Sumayl said as he glared at Hunter. He looked Anora over from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, then leveled a disapproving look at her that made her feel like an errant child.

He turned his back to her and started toward the gate as he said over his shoulder.

“Your father is pacing a rut in the floor planks with worry.”

Anora’s heart sank. “I said I would return by morning.” It was a feeble answer, and she wished she had just kept her mouth closed.

Sumayl stopped at the gate and turned to face them both, the disappointment clear in his dark eyes.

He crossed his arms over his chest in a stance Anora knew well.

It was how he always stood, even when he was relaxed, but his strong arms and broad build made him look intimidating no matter what his mood.

“The widow Griswold sent her eldest to request your assistance last night.” Sumayl said, his tone hard.

Anora felt a sharp stab of guilt that must have shone on her face because Sumayl nodded in agreement as if she’d spoken her regret aloud.

“I searched every lane looking for you before I realized Willow was missing. Your father was at least comforted by the thought that you had likely left of your own volition.”

Anora opened her mouth to speak, but Sumayl held up a hand to stop her. “Save it for your father.” He dropped his arms back to his sides, turned on his heel, and led them through the gate as he grumbled, “I should have known you two were up to something.”