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The Queen’s Huntsmen

Issylte was heartbroken when King Donnchadh sent word that he wouldn’t be returning for at least two more weeks.

She needed to speak to him, to beg him to bring Gigi back.

She struggled to maintain hope, but it was so hard, for her stepmother’s haunting black eyes followed her everywhere.

Issylte was tense and frightened all the time.

The queen was a coiled serpent, ready to strike.

The only highlight in her life was horseback riding.

The Master of Horse, Lord Liam, certainly played a large role in her enthusiasm for all things equestrian.

Not only was he attractive—tall and muscular, with long blond hair that he wore pulled back in a leather cord—but his gentleness with Luna melted her heart.

His eager smile lit up his handsome face.

Issylte was thrilled whenever he flashed her a friendly grin.

She loved the way Liam handled the horses, the kindness and patience he showed her in their daily equestrian lessons.

He’d taught her to care for Luna herself, and Issylte treasured the time they spent together—whether riding through the forest, galloping across the plains, or mucking out the stalls.

Lord Liam was the only one who didn’t seem to mind her unprincesslike behavior.

Liam arranged riding lessons for Issylte each day, always accompanied by at least six of her royal guards.

As they rode through the verdant forest, the wind whipping her hair, the fragrance of pine needles filling the air, Issylte was gloriously free, far from the menacing eyes of her wicked stepmother, the handsome Liam at her side.

Today, Issylte’s handmaidens had accompanied her to the stables, where the royal guards were already mounted and prepared for her daily ride. Yet, Issylte did not recognize any of the faces of her knights. A surge of panic washed through her.

Perhaps they are in training, thought Issylte, trying to calm her racing pulse.

Liam helped her into the saddle. He stroked Luna’s mane and crooned into the mare’s ear.

“Good girl, Luna. Good girl.”

Liam’s horse was not saddled. Where was Golnar, his stallion?

“Lord Liam, aren’t you riding with me today?”

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The leather reins shook in her wet hands.

The Master of Horse seemed troubled, preoccupied.

“Not today, Your Highness. I’ve been informed that Lords Cian and Bolduc will accompany you in my stead.” Lord Liam gestured to two of the six royal guards already mounted in their saddles.

Upon these words, the dark-haired Lord Cian addressed her. With his grisly beard, brooding eyes, and gruff voice, he seemed like a bear. Issylte did not want to go riding with him.

“Yes, Your Highness. Queen Morag suggested that perhaps you tire of the monotony of the same trail each day.”

He nodded to the clean-shaven huntsman beside him. “Lord Bolduc and I shall show you a different route—one that leads to the sea.”

The two huntsmen exchanged glances. Issylte didn’t like the menace in their eyes. Something was very wrong. She could feel a thrum from the forest. A warning.

“Indeed, Your Highness, it is most beautiful. I have no doubt you will enjoy it immensely. And now, Princess Issylte, we shall proceed. Lord Bolduc and I—and these fine royal guards—are all at your service.”

Lord Cian bowed his head, tugged his horse’s reins, and headed towards the forest. Lord Bolduc and several of the royal guards followed his lead. Issylte glanced back at Lord Liam. He was standing there, watching her go. She had the sudden urge to race back to him.

“This way, Your Highness. To the sea.” Lord Cian kicked his horse and led her into the dense woods. The remaining wo knights filed in behind her. Preventing her retreat. Issylte’s mouth went dry, and her hands shook as she clutched the reins tightly.

They rode deep into the foreboding forest, where the earthy scent of rich loam mingled with the rot of decaying leaves from ancient oaks. The woodland trail was unfamiliar, the gnarled branches and roots making the journey increasingly treacherous.

She struggled to keep up with Lords Cian and Bolduc.

The two huntsmen were quickening their pace, turning this way and that, along the sinuous path that required her constant attention, for Luna could easily be injured.

The thick canopy of oak and beech trees blocked nearly all the sunlight.

It was becoming nearly impossible to follow the dangerous serpentine trail.

Urging their horses to quicken their speed, the huntsmen delved deeper and deeper into the forest with Issylte desperate to keep up. She didn’t know these woods and would never be able to return to the castle on her own.

Her hands trembled so much, she could hardly ride. Her pulse pounded; her stomach clenched in a knot.

Flustered and frightened, she realized with dread that the other guards were no longer behind her and that she was alone with two strange men. The forest itself was warning her of imminent danger.

Cian halted abruptly.

Bolduc stopped his horse in front of Luna, blocking Issylte’s path.

Cian flew out of his saddle and yanked Luna’s reins out of her hand. Issylte couldn’t breathe.

Bolduc dismounted and pulled Issylte brusquely from her saddle. He grabbed her forearm, restraining her at his side. Her legs were shaking so badly she could barely stand. Her heart was in her throat. What were they going to do?

Cian led Luna away from her, tying the mare to a tree. He tethered the other two horses nearby. Bolduc clenched her arm.

Her body quivered. Fear tightened her stomach, and a wave of nausea rose to her throat.

She couldn’t outrun two grown men, nor could she untie Luna and leap onto her back without being captured again. She was at the mercy of these two huntsmen. Perhaps if she screamed, the other guards might hear…

As if sensing her thoughts, Cian barked, “No sense calling for the royal guards, Your Majesty. The queen made sure her own loyal knights would be posted today. We obey her orders.”

The queen replaced the guards? That’s why Liam didn’t come. Dear Goddess, what is happening?

Rustling leaves sounded from the forest behind them. Issylte whirled around, certain that wolves had tracked them.

Bolduc released her arm, then quickly withdrew his bow from his back. In rapid succession, with deadly accuracy, he nocked and fired two lethal arrows.

Issylte sensed the thud as the body of a stag fell to the ground before them. Bolduc’s arrows had found their mark. One was embedded in the deer’s eye socket and the other in its neck. The magnificent beast lay lifeless at her feet.

The queen’s huntsmen exchanged a meaningful glance. Cian nodded.

Bolduc withdrew his dagger and began to carve up the stag. Bewildered and terrified, Issylte could not comprehend what was happening, nor could she control the tremors in her legs.

The burly, dark Lord Cian removed his hat from his head and placed it across his chest. He knelt before her, his dark eyes filled with regret.

“Your Majesty, we cannot obey. The queen sent us here today with orders to kill you. To make it appear as if there’d been an accident.

She told us to say that we’d taken you along the coastline to show you the sea.

That your horse had reared—frightened by crumbling rocks along the cliff.

That you were thrown from your palfrey, cast into the sea, and despite hours of frantic search, we had been unable to find your body. ”

He took hold of Issylte’s ice cold hand and kissed it.

Still on his knees, he looked up at her, shaking his head in shame.

“The queen demanded that we take you deep into the forest, cut out your heart, and bring it back to her as proof that we’d obeyed.

She said your riderless horse would return to the castle, and King Donnchadh would hear of the tragic death of his only child.

Soon, word would spread throughout the land that Princess Issylte had perished in a terrible accident.

” He kissed her hand again. “But…Your Highness, we cannot obey.”

Issylte collapsed to her knees, her mouth trembling uncontrollably. She turned first to Cian, then to Bolduc, who was still carving the corpse of the deer.

The stark realization hit her like a blow to the stomach.

Her stepmother had ordered her death. They had brought her here to kill her.

To cut out her heart!

Issylte vomited into the decaying leaves. When she finally finished retching, she wiped her mouth with the cloth that Cian offered.

Overcome with emotion, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

Cian’s deep voice was soothing. “Your Majesty, we simply cannot kill you, but neither can we return to the queen empty-handed. Bolduc is cutting out the heart of this stag. We’ll offer it to the queen as proof that we obeyed.”

Bolduc strode over, the stag’s heart in his hand. He took a cloth from his pouch, wrapped the heart in it, and placed it in his saddlebag. Issylte was still on her knees, disheveled, shaking, and crying.

“You must never return to the castle, Your Highness. The queen will believe that you are dead, but you must stay hidden, so she will never discover the truth. If she were to learn that yet you live, she would have you hunted down and killed, and execute both Cian and myself.” Bolduc knelt beside Cian, the two huntsmen humbled before her.

Issylte lifted her tear-stained face. “But…what can I do? I can’t return to the castle. Where can I possibly go?”

Cian rose to his feet and extended his hand to help raise Issylte as well. Bolduc stood up beside them.

She smoothed her tangled hair, brushing leaves and twigs off her gown. She wiped her eyes and looked imploringly at Cian. He gestured to a stream which flowed through the forest nearby.