A Court This Cruel & Lovely (Kingdom of Lies, #1)(14)

Standing still, I let him approach. My shoulders slumped, and a tear trickled down my cheek. Some of the tension left his face. He likely thought I’d be easier to slaughter than a deer.

I was weak, weary, and weaponless. Unless I came up with a plan in the next few moments, I’d be his easiest kill yet.

A dull fury took up residence in my chest. I’d survived that river, only to die here?

The world narrowed until all I could see was his face. The hunter took a step toward me, and beneath the pity, I caught the feral pleasure in his eyes. This man had been bred for hunting. Even if he promised me an easy death, he’d still enjoy it.

I wouldn’t make it easy for him.

Something moved to my left. His horse stood just foot-spans away. I brushed my foot against a rock to my right. My eyes met the hunter’s.

I’d learned a few things during my lessons with Tibris and his friends. The most important was that no matter how much I trained, if one of the men pinned me, I was finished. They simply weighed more than me. This hunter was much larger than Tibris and his friends. His muscles made theirs look almost feminine in comparison.

“There you go,” the hunter soothed me. “It will all be over soon.” A sick light entered his eyes. He was probably mentally spending the gold he’d receive for my death. He’d get more gold for bringing me to the king’s guards alive, but I had a feeling this man wouldn’t be able to restrain himself from killing me for that long.

Another step closer. The blade of his knife glinted in the last of the sunlight.

Now.

I crouched. My hand found the rock. It was rough, heavier than I’d imagined. The hunter bared his teeth at me and took another step.

I launched the rock in the direction of the horse, careful not to hit it.

Distantly, I was aware of the horse rearing, of the hunter’s curse as he whirled. But I was already turning, desperately scanning the forest floor.

There.

The branch was too heavy. Long and unwieldy. A bad choice. But the hunter was still turned, torn between seeing to his horse, which was trotting away, and immediately killing me.

He pivoted back in my direction, and I swung the branch.

It hit him in the side of the face, enough to make him stumble.

Screaming, I hit him again. He fell to his knees, one hand coming up to protect his face, the other pulling his knife. Blood poured from his nose.

I hit him again.

He fell onto his back. My chest heaved. His eyes rolled back in his head. Was he truly unconscious? I lifted my branch once more.

I hesitated.

Bile crawled up my throat. I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t a killer.

He groaned.

I let the branch come down.

Sobs shook my body as I hit him once more. Blood sprayed from his nose. I dropped next to him, and my hand found his knife.

It was him or me.

I buried it in his throat and pulled the blade free. Liquid hit my face, and I gagged and jumped away. Leaning over, I vomited bile. Tears streamed down my face.

Stumbling, shaking, I slipped down the bank to the river. My feet didn’t hurt anymore. Nothing hurt. I barely felt the icy water as I splashed my face and washed the knife clean.

Feeling began to return as I climbed back up the bank to the hunter’s body. I didn’t have the time or the strength to bury him. The ground was half frozen, and I needed to move.

His face had already lost its color. Even in the dim light, it was obvious he was dead. And that he’d died a bad, bloody death.

My stomach roiled again, but I pushed it down. Crouching next to his body, I found his coin purse and cut it free.

Apparently there were no depths I wouldn’t sink to in order to stay breathing.

Rustling sounded, and I froze, tightening my hand around the knife.

Dark eyes met mine.

The horse.

“Uh, I’m sorry about the whole rock thing. It was all I could think of at the time.”

If a horse could scowl, this one did.

I slowly got to my feet. “You and I? We could be a team.”

I’d travel much, much faster with a horse. Approaching slowly, I made soothing sounds as I shuffled through the forest. It was getting so dark now that I could barely see.

“There’s a pretty boy.” I ducked my head. “Girl. Sorry. Either way, you’re gorgeous.”

The horse didn’t exactly look like she trusted me, but she allowed me to stroke her. The knot in my gut began to unravel, even as my hands continued to shake.

I reached into the hunter’s saddlebag, pulling out his food stores. Bread. The hunter had bread, an apple, and—wrapped in a soft cloth—a valeo.

My breath caught. The sweet fruit was rare, often almost impossible to find. Papa used to travel to other villages a few times a year when I was young. I’d loved it when Papa had gone southeast, because the villages near the coast were much more likely to have my precious valeo available.

Tibris had liked it best when Papa went north, where some of the best woodworking artisans lived. Papa would always bring back tiny wooden animals, and by the time he died, we’d each had a collection on the small tables next to our beds. I’d give almost anything to have one of them in my pocket right now. Just one small wooden piece to remember him by.

Lifting the fruit to my nose, I inhaled. Memories rushed at me. My father’s smile, the way he’d pretend he hadn’t been able to find any valeo and then pull one from his pocket. The time right before he’d died when I’d spent a precious few coppers on a valeo for him.