Bound for the Forest by Kay Berrisford

Author:Kay Berrisford [Berrisford, Kay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Brien wandered through the forest for an interminable period of time. Mud caked on his feet, making walking heavy and difficult, while shadows shifted erratically. Was it deer or foxes, maybe even a badger? Winged creatures rushed by, the ghostly quiver of air in their wake making him grimace with pure misery. He was damp, and he was bloody cold, still wearing little but that negligible cloak. This thankless hell had to be the least magical place in the whole world.

He called Scarlet’s name until his voice grew hoarse, but he carried on regardless. When Brien finally discerned the distant sound of voices, he was so sick of trudging aimlessly that he nearly wept with relief. Even if it was Hastings, he was well nigh past caring.

But it was not Hastings. Either by luck or misfortune, Brien had stumbled back to Arden. Clambering up onto the embankment, he considered whether he should make himself known or simply lie down near a fire and sleep, but the choice was not left to him for long.

“Brien?” Ever eagle-eyed, Arya made her way over.

He regarded her warily. “Is Scarlet back?”

Arya shook her head; she had made attempts to neaten her hair and clothing, but there were purple smudges under her eyes, and she looked exhausted. “No. He hasn’t returned yet. I’ve sent several parties to search for him, though. We’re worried.”

“I’m sorry. I should have kept closer to him. I…I…” He trailed off and almost laughed. “Although I’m suspecting you’re going to say the problem was I got a little too close?”

Arya inclined her head in what appeared to be a gesture of conciliation, but he didn’t have much time to ponder it. A glint of something buttercup yellow caught his eye, and his gaze slid to her hands. “Is that…?”

“It’s Scarlet’s neck cloth,” confessed Arya. “I was entreating to the Goddess for him, and I thought it might help, but…it’s yours, really, isn’t it?” She handed it to Brien. “You could give it back to him, if you want to.”

Brien grunted, rubbing the smooth fabric between his finger and thumb as he had done once before. When he stuffed it beneath his cloak, it felt warm and soft against his heart. Then he felt like a fool. Arya’s lips curved into an unfathomable smile, as perfect as the crescent moons on her pendant.

“Do…do you think he’s all right?” It was all that Brien could think of to say.

“We won’t know until we find him, or until he chooses to come back to us. But at least we will have good news for him when he does. You see, whether you meant what you did or not, you helped us to succeed back there.”

“Oh, yes?”

Arya laughed then, and her tiredness all but evaporated. “A group of the girls just returned from the very skirts of the Greenwood. They did not find Scarlet, but they saw Hastings and his sons fleeing from the forest, witless with terror. Apparently they galloped straight through Little Lyndton and onto the Southampton road without as much as a fare-ye-well.

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