Anwen of Primewood by Shari L. Tapscott

Author:Shari L. Tapscott [Tapscott, Shari L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BluA
Published: 2015-09-16T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Triblue

A dead stag drops at my feet, its blood seeping into the earth where it falls. I blink at the creature. I’m so horrified; I’m not sure what to do.

Pika watches me with expectant eyes, and then she lowers her head and nudges the deer toward me with her nose.

“Good girl,” I murmur, realizing she’s simply a stable cat offering a mouse to her keeper.

Only Pika’s mouse is much, much larger.

This morning, Irving yelled at her when she once again swiped his kill from the fire—this time a trio of grouse. Apparently, she is trying to redeem herself.

No one is nervous around Pika anymore. Even Marigold will absently scratch the glasseln’s head.

“It’s about time she makes herself useful,” Irving grumbles as he begins to quarter the animal.

He tosses Pika the entrails, and I have to look away so I won’t be ill.

Bran sits down next to me. “Tomorrow we’ll be in Triblue. It will be good to be home.”

I’m happy for the distraction from Irving and the stag. The stars shine bright in the sky, and the evening air is warm. It feels like mid-summer again, even if the first day of autumn is only a few days away.

“How long have you been gone?” I ask.

I stretch my leg. It still aches, but after the two weeks it has taken to travel this far, it’s healed enough I don’t have to be careful with it anymore.

Bran’s eyes are on the fire. A log splits and sends a cascade of sparks into the sky. Danver wakes at the noise and stretches. His eyes are bright, and his ears are alert to the night sounds. He joins Irving, sniffing at the deer. Irving shoos him away.

“Since early summer.” Bran prods the coals with a long stick, lets it catch fire, and then draws on the ring of rocks circling the flames. “We missed the summer season.”

“I’ve been to Triblue,” I say. “But our trips were focused on Father’s goods. I’ve never had a chance to explore. What’s your kingdom like?”

Bran runs his hand through his hair. “It’s warm, and you can always hear the ocean. I miss that more than anything.”

“And there are fish,” Dristan adds from across the fire, his voice dreamy. “I think I’d rather starve than eat another rabbit.”

Galinor steps through the brush, several hares hanging from his hands. “You won’t be eating breakfast then, I assume.” His eyes drift to the stag. “Where did you get that?”

“Pika,” I answer for Irving.

Galinor raises his eyebrows and tosses the rabbits at Irving.

“I’ll just take care of those for you,” Irving grumbles.

Galinor grins. “Thanks, Irving.”

The blond prince pauses. “Aren’t the women supposed to prepare the meat?”

Marigold looks up from her book—I can’t imagine how she reads by firelight—and scrunches her brow. “The only dead animals I’ve touched have been properly cooked.”

Irving looks at me and laughs when I cringe. Still smiling, he turns his attention to Rosie. She meets his eyes, challenging him to ask her to take care of the stag.

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