The Bear House (#1) by Meaghan McIsaac

Author:Meaghan McIsaac [McIsaac, Meaghan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Holiday House
Published: 2021-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

When night fell over Hundford, the shadows cast by the trees so dark not even the starflies could soften them, Lorc waited for the manor to sleep.

Finally, when the only sound to be heard was the chirping of crickets, he left.

He snuck outside easily, dressed in a simple tunic and a cloak pinned with a Starhound cast in silver. Moving quickly, he slid into the stables without being seen, and then saddled up Septimus, Arthur’s prized red stallion. Arthur always rode Septimus, and Lorc was usually left with whatever was available. But tonight, Septimus was free for the taking. Arthur would be mad, but, Lorc reasoned, Arthur was going to be mad anyway.

If he was going to defy his brother’s orders, he might as well do it atop his brother’s horse.

When the guards changed shifts, groggy, hungry, and cold, Lorc passed through the shadowed grounds without being noticed, for the Manor had no curtain wall and was open to the vastness of the forest, protection enough from the world.

He went unseen… except by a single boy carrying fresh goat’s milk for the hounds’ breakfast.

The boy gaped at Septimus, and Lorc wondered if he’d made a mistake—Septimus was, without a doubt, the finest horse anyone had ever seen. No wonder the child took note. How many other people Lorc passed would stare at his horse?

And then the child’s eyes met his, and Lorc saw them bulge with recognition before he stared at the ground and continued on his way.

Lorc dug his heels into Septimus’s side. They had to hurry.

When he was well beyond the bounds of the estate, he turned the encounter over in his mind. Whether the boy was loyal to Arcas or to Tier (or to no one), Lorc couldn’t be sure—both of them had their spies. He was sure of only one thing: when the sun came up, the boy would tell someone. And someone would tell someone else. And Arthur and Lorc’s father would come to learn that he had left. And then it wouldn’t be long before they sent someone to drag him home.

Lorc rode as fast as he could for the rest of the night, crossing miles and miles and miles.

He kept to the trees and away from villages and towns, passing through cold-shadowed forest for hours, his hood pulled low over his head. He was grateful for the weight of the thick woolen cloak he’d chosen.

Finally, the cedars began to give way to open sky, and golden fields of wheat stretched out before him, silver by the light of the setting moon. The Härkädian border wouldn’t be much farther. Lorc could be there by daybreak. Septimus had never slowed—when other horses would have been slick with sweat, his breathing hadn’t even changed.

“Well done, Septimus,” Lorc said. “I can see why Arthur likes you best.”

The horse gave a snort, and Lorc grinned smugly. After that performance, he needn’t worry about Arthur sending anyone after him. No other horse could catch them.

“Thirsty, are you?” Lorc asked. “You must be, after all that.

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