Dread coiled like a snake in my belly. I turned. Another reason to stay away from the river. It masked the sound of someone stalking me.
The man was tanned and clean-shaven. He stood several foot-spans taller than me, with broad shoulders and thick thighs. He carried a bow, his shirt straining over the kinds of muscles men attained when they spent their days hauling slaughtered deer back to their villages. He eyed me, and his hand drifted to the long knife on his hip.
A hunter. The fact that he was here meant I was closer to Mistrun than I could’ve hoped. It also meant that this man was well used to bringing down his prey and dragging it home for payment.
I was dead.
“I know who you are,” he said softly. “News travels fast to Mistrun.” His mouth twisted as he took me in, barefoot and shivering. “I’ll make it fast, little lamb. You won’t even know it happened.”
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.