Page 54 of Heart of the Hunter (Band of Bastards #3)

T he night had been arduous, and the patrol far from a success as far as Hunter was concerned. In a sharp turn of events, he rode at the side of Baron Payne toward Hawkspur Castle.

A contingent of two dozen soldiers accompanied Payne, as well as the small band of six men who accompanied Hunter, and tenants from two small settlements near the border of Hawk’s land that had been attacked and set on fire during the night.

Wagons were loaded with women, children, and a few injured men, one severely so.

Two more of Hunter’s soldiers were absent.

They’d seen a man on horseback in the distance as they’d ridden toward the second fire and gave chase.

They’d yet to return, and Hunter was hopeful that meant they’d been able to stay on the man’s trail and would eventually return with a captive.

Hawk was not going to be happy in the least. Two hamlets had been attacked during the night.

Even with the added patrols of Hawk’s soldiers disbursed around the countryside looking for marauders, they’d still managed to slip through.

It galled Hunter that the raiders were able to hit two locations right under their noses.

Hawk had instructed Hunter to patrol the border between Hawkspur and Montworth’s holding where Payne was staying as a guest of the minor baron.

Montworth’s small fortress was near to the border with Hawkspur and clearly visible from the southernmost hills of Hawk’s landholding.

They’d seen nothing and no one suspicious from the fortress, but when the two fires started, Payne and a contingent of the soldiers rode out from the gates to lend their assistance with conspicuously good timing.

“You will not convince me they were anything but Welsh outlaws,” Payne said now as he rode at Hunter’s side.

“What reason would Welsh rebels have for burning the cottages and farms of their own people?” Hunter bit out through gritted teeth.

The two tenant settlements had been small and not far from one another, but they both consisted of mostly Welshmen.

It was not uncommon in Marches to have Welsh and English living side by side, and Hawk welcomed any tenants willing to work if they remained peaceful.

His reputation in this part of the Marches as a fair and generous lord had been instrumental in maintaining unprecedented peace in the area.

These strikes were unusual in that the sole intent was to demoralize the tenants.

Nothing was stolen and no gain was had by the marauders—other than making the Lord and Lady of Hawkspur look incompetent.

“Who can say what goes through their heads?” Payne’s arrogant tone grated on Hunter’s nerves, along with the arrogant arch to his brow as he slid Hunter a sidelong glance.

It was taking every bit of Hunter’s self-control not to reach across and throttle his last breath from the worthless brute.

“You saw them. They didn’t even know how to help themselves.

My men had to do everything: stop the fires, gather the tenants, and tend the injured while those peasants watched in useless shock. ”

Hunter gave a noncommittal grunt from low in his throat as he scanned the terrain.

That was not what Hunter had observed, and his own men confirmed it.

Payne’s soldiers had created confusion and, in his opinion, been purposely more of a hindrance than a help.

Soon after they arrived on the scene, fights were brewing between Payne’s soldiers and those from Hawkspur.

In a tense moment, he’d been forced to remind Payne he was on Hawkspur soil and to bring his men to heel before the hostility erupted into a full battle.

The sun was rising in the distance, but the trees were still silhouettes shrouded in gray. He was watching the horizon with one eye, but his other was on Payne and his men. They posed a greater threat than anything that may be hiding in the forest.

If Hunter had not made his promise to Hawk to give him a sennight to determine if Payne was responsible for the vandals and the purpose for his deeds, he would have already killed the man.

As it was, he was adhering to his duty, though it was a constant battle with the demon raging inside of him, desperate to protect Anora.

“It was rather fortuitous for the peasants that we were near, considering the small band of men with you was not enough to control the fires, let alone prevent them.” Payne’s voice was an irritating drone in Hunter’s ear, and he wasn’t sure how much more of him he could take.

“I can only imagine Hawk’s displeasure when he learns of the loss of nearly all the structures in two hamlets from fires that should not have happened under your watch. ”

Hunter stayed silent and kept his focus on the road ahead. This journey could not be over soon enough for his liking.

“I heard the men call you ‘Hunter.’ I’ve heard about you, but I don’t remember meeting you face to face.” When Hunter did not turn to acknowledge the man, he said in a nasally, superior tone, “You do not seem to know who I am.”

Hunter slowly turned his head to face the baron and leveled a steady stare at him.

Payne was not a particularly large man and there was nothing intimidating about him—definitely repulsive but not intimidating.

He had beady eyes and sharp, protruding features that made him resemble a rodent in Hunter’s mind.

All he needed was long whiskers and a naked pink tail. “I know who you are.”

“And I know who you are,” Payne sneered. “You are nothing but a lackey hired to do Hawk’s dirty work. Little more than an indentured servant, really. I am a baron, a nobleman with the ear of powerful men. I expect you to treat me with the respect due to me owing to my station.”

Hunter continued to look at Payne with an intentionally bored expression on his face before turning his gaze ahead of them again, with a slow sigh of exasperation.

Hunter’s teeth were near to breaking from the force of his clenched jaw.

He wanted to knock the cocksure cur from his mount and beat him into the dirt.

Baron Payne edged his horse closer to Hunter and Shadow so that their knees grazed together.

“Because of my respect for Hawk, and the dread I am certain you are feeling having to tell him of your failures, I will overlook your insolence this time. But if you disrespect me again, know that I will have you licking my boots like the worthless piece of shit you are.”

He’d meant to keep his mouth shut. He’d tried really hard not to let Payne prick his temper. But a man could only take so much.

His hand shot out and grabbed the worthless baron by the neck of his tunic, twisting it tight and pulling his ugly face close to his own.

He looked into the baron’s wide, terrified eyes, as their noses almost touched, and the stench of the man’s breath wafted into his nostrils.

“You may be a baron, but I am a man who has taken the lives of so many men I have nothing left of my soul but the blackened ashes. I know you for who you really are, and I know all about your sadistic fantasies. You are a coward, and you prey on those weaker than you. You belong in Hell, and I will gladly put you there, even if it means I have to take you with me to do it.”

They were surrounded by soldiers now, both the baron’s and his, but Hunter didn’t care.

He’d already overstepped the bounds of propriety.

No one had interfered, but they were at the ready, awaiting a signal from either man, yet the men from Hawkspur were vastly outnumbered and Hunter was not a fool.

He released the baron’s tunic and settled back in his saddle.

Payne glared at him for a long moment, not moving, no doubt calculating how to save face in front of his men without causing a bloodbath, though Hunter knew he was itching for the latter.

“I will overlook this…indiscretion,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes bulging, “and leave your commander to determine your punishment. But if you ever place your hands on me again, I will have them detached from your arms as is my right as a nobleman, and no one—not Hawk, not even the king—will condemn me.”

Hunter wanted to wrap his hands around Payne’s neck and squeeze until his little, darting eyes popped from his head. Instead, he nudged his horse to walk on. “Let us get these people to Hawkspur.”

The men who had spurred their horses forward to gather around them reined to the side and let them pass, before returning to their positions in the procession.

Hawkspur came into sight as the road turned into the next valley, the castle sitting as sentinel on the top of a high hill with the village spilling down the slope from the castle walls.

A patchwork of pastures and fields ringed the bottom of the hillsides, stretching all the way to the edge of the forest surrounding the hills.

Hawk had done much to improve the defenses of the castle, clearing the forest back far enough to see any raiders trying to get close to the fortress.

Another wall was being constructed at the base of the hill, completely enclosing the village and structures dotting the hillsides—a sure indication that Hawkspur had prospered under the combined governance of Hawk and Lady Alyce.

The morning sun was becoming brighter as the gates to Hawkspur opened and a contingent of soldiers emerged, riding hard in their direction. They were soon surrounded by Hawkspur soldiers, who quickly assessed the situation with the injured tenants.

“Again?” Bard asked angrily, scanning the wagons loaded with the men, women, and children, all of them smudged and dirty with soot and ash, and some injured. He noticed a man lying on the floor of one of the carts, a severed shaft of an arrow protruding from his shoulder.