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[Rough Draft] Chapter 27: A Trail to Victory
The slowly rising sun glittered across a blanket of dew which slumbered upon to the campground grass and clung to the rustling leaves of the forest that surrounded them. Carina stretched stiffly by Ivy’s tent as knights scurried about, hiding yawns as they prepared horses for the Duchess, her ladies, and her protection. She drew in a deep breath of the crisp morning air and exhaled with a refreshed smile.
“Don’t forget this, your Grace,” Isaac called out as he strolled over, holding the box Iker had delivered last night.
“Ah, yes!” Carina smiled as she flipped the lid open to admire the craftsmanship of the polished oak butt engraved and painted with silver wolves racing under what appeared to be a sky of moon and stars. A simple steel cranium device mounted on top of the weapon allowed for ease of use to draw back and load the steel tip bolts Iker has also provided. “Well, I suppose it’s a good idea not to go to war empty-handed.”
“What’s this about a war?” Bromwell called out as he rode around the camp tents with an eager grin. “Good morning, Cousin! And Saint’s mercy—isn’t that something?” His eyes lit up as he dropped down to the ground beside the Duchess to examine the crossbow Carina lifted from the box. “I didn’t know you knew how to shoot one of these?”
“Well, now that I own one, I intend to learn,” Carina replied with a dismissive shrug. ‘Hopefully, Kirsi can teach me.’
“Oh, well you’ll have plenty of experts in that field willing to lend a hand,” Bromwell retorted with a smug grin.
“She has an entire army,” Isaac cut in with a faint growl as he shifted around Carina to shoulder the nobleman aside. “All knights are trained to use the crossbow, your Grace. And it would be my honor to provide you with assistance should you require it.”
“Thank you, Captain, Cousin,” Carina replied with a rueful smile, then glanced past them both as Ivy’s tent flap opened, and she and Hana appeared, dressed and refreshed. “Good morning, Ladies.”
“Your Grace,” they replied with a curious gaze at the mutually glaring Bromwell and Isaac.
“We should get to the meeting point,” Isaac stated stiffly as he brushed past Bromwell, knocking against the nobleman’s shoulder again as he did so. “His Majesty is no doubt waiting.”
***
Nicholas was waiting and apparently eager to begin. He was also very enthusiastic about Carina’s new crossbow.
“You need a sling, Lady Kirsi,” he said after raising the weapon to his shoulder to aim down its sight. “That will make it easier for you to carry it on horseback.”
“Of course, I think there was one in the box it arrived in now that I think about it,” Carina agreed.
“There was your Grace,” Isaac said as he offered the polished leather strap with two metal hooks to the crown prince.
“Yes, that’s it. We attach that here and here,” Nicholas murmured as he hooked the strap into place, “And then if you’ll allow me to adjust it for you—” Carina bowed her head as the crown prince slide the around her head and shoulders, “—you want it snug when you’re not using it. There, let it hang. Okay, let me raise it a bit more. That should be good.”
Carina smiled patiently as Nicholas adjusted the strap behind her, then circled around to take her hand and guide it to the hook connected to a small ring near the bowed front.
“This is the lath. You can unhook the strap here when you’re ready to fire. Usually, best you leave the back hook connected unless you’re walking on foot and would prefer to carry it more comfortably,” Nicholas explained calmly. “Now, unhook that, and let’s see your shooting posture.”
After a few seconds of fumbling to get the hook loose, Carina raised the crossbow, resting the butt against her shoulder as she balanced the shaft upon her left hand and aligned the two arched sights on the crossbow.
“Not bad,” Nicholas murmured as he stepped back. “When did you have this commissioned? The arbalist made it just the right size for you.”
Carina made no comment, though she too wondered when Iker had decided to craft the beautiful weapon. The wolves etched and painted on the shaft could only have been designed with the sigil of Bastiallano or the Royal family in mind.
“Beaumont, come check the Duchess’s sights,” Nicholas called out as he turned to where the knight captain waited, holding the reins of both their horses. “I’m more familiar with a bow, but Captain Beaumont knows his way around most weapons.”
“I see,” Carina replied as she watched Beaumont hand the reins to another knight and stride towards them. “I welcome your expertise, Captain.”
Beaumont nodded as his violet eyes wandered over the crossbow, then up her arms to Carina’s face. “Generally, it’s best to use target practice to figure out what position works best for you,” he explained casually as he moved closer and then stood behind her. “But you’ll want to tuck it in firmer here.” Beaumont’s right hand slid over her own as he pulled the butt of the crossbow back with a surprising amount of force. Carina stumbled back a step to bump against him, and Beaumont hastily retreated. “My apologies, your Grace.”
“No, sorry, I wasn’t ready,” Carina replied quickly. “Show me again.”
Nicholas smiled as they repositioned themselves, and this time Beaumont was careful as he guided the butt back into Carina’s shoulder, then adjusted her grip on the shaft.
“Use both hands to keep it steady,” Beaumont said with a note of gentleness as he guided Carina and her bow towards the nearest tree. “Keep your sights aligned. The further out your target, the more you’ll need to compensate for distance. With enough practice, you’ll get used to pressure and feel. Once it becomes second nature, you won’t have to think about your grip and can focus on the target.”
Carina nodded as he stepped back. “Should I try shooting it?”
“Probably best if we save that for our midday break,” Nicholas suggested with a rueful smile. “Then Beaumont can give you plenty of tips and advice.”
“Ah, yes,” Carina reluctantly lowered the crossbow as Attwood and Gladstone rode in their direction. “It looks like the Prime Minister is here.”
“Good,” Bromwell grumbled. “That just leaves the foreigner and our Huntsman.”
“Huntsman here!” a voice called out as Jesper appeared, walking at a leisurely pace with his horse trailing behind him. “Apologies for my lateness, but the old girl needed her shoe adjusted.”
“And here come’s the Viscount,” Nicholas said with a nod to where a single horse was riding through the camp behind the already approaching Attwood and Gladstone.
“Your Majesty,” Attwood greeted hastily with a head bow to Nicholas.
“Glad you could make it, Prime Minister.”
“Yes, I do apologize. I needed to speak with Acheron before he departed this morning—barely caught him as it was—”
Nicholas grunted in annoyance as a horn sounded across the campgrounds. A group of riders, hounds, and banners streamed away from the Earl’s campgrounds into the South-Westerns quadrant. “It seems everyone had the same idea about starting at first light.”
“You’d be surprised how many lords don’t make the first hunt due to the earliness of the hour,” Jesper commented with a nod to Marco, who grimaced as he rubbed his forehead and bobbed a bow to Nicholas.
“Someone had a little too much to drink last night,” Gladstone grumbled as he waved a hand in front of his face and moved away from the young Viscount.
Marco snorted after the older Viscount and sniffed as his gaze wandered over the group before settling in on Hana. “Morning, everyone. I believe it’s time to catch a few deer?”
“Right enough, no point in delaying any further,” Bromwell added as all gazes turned to Nicholas, who climbed up onto his mount. The rest of the party not yet mounted hastily followed suit as the crown prince turned to Jesper.
“What direction shall we take, Huntsman?”
“Well,” Jesper replied as he patted the neck of his mare and glanced towards Carina. “That would depend on the Duchess’s wolves, I imagine.”
Carina smiled as she nudged her white stallion closer to Nicholas and Beaumont. “Then I would recommend we follow the eastern trail since that is where the wolves last saw his Majesty’s King Stag.”
“An excellent suggestion!” Nicholas grinned as he adjusted the bow and quiver at his back. “And, lords, ladies, just in case it wasn’t clear. The King Stag is my prey, so save your practice shots for the other deer.”
***
“You seem to be doing better today,” Carina observed cheerfully as she rode along beside Ivy. Marco had pulled Hana to the back of their formation for a private conversation that seemed to have engrossed the pair, leaving Carina and Ivy free to chat peacefully.
“I am,” Ivy replied with a smile, though she remained focused on the trail before them. “The bath last night—was simply glorious.”
Carina let out a small sigh of relief as she adjusted her reins. “Then I can only thank my cousin for encouraging us to bath at the Manor last night. And you shall have a bath there every day while you’re here! Then I shall have a similar bath prepared in your rooms at the orphanage when we—”
“Your Grace!” Ivy protested as her jade-green eyes widened in alarm. “You really don’t need to—”
“Ivy!” Carina interrupted firmly. “No titles, please.”
Ivy glanced at the Duchess then away hesitantly. “I’m—not used to calling you Kirsi.”
‘Is that what’s been bothering you? That I’ve become a Duchess?’
“Don’t you miss your old name?” Ivy asked curiously as she studied Carina.
“Maura?” Carina tilted her head with a rueful smile. “I can’t say that I do.”
“Really?” Ivy looked surprised or perhaps even disappointed.
“I suppose—” Carina explained hesitantly, “—it’s because I don’t feel like Maura anymore.” ‘I was never the real Maura, to begin with, after all.’ “A new name gives me the opportunity to be someone else and live a new life!” ‘Even if that life also belongs to the real Kirsi—who is also me, but not me.’ She sighed and shook her head. “It’s a bit complicated.”
“No, I suppose that makes sense,” Ivy said with a sad smile. “And if you’re new name makes you happy—then I’m glad.”
‘You really are the kindest, most selfless person I know.’
The group ahead of them, which consisted of the Huntsman, Nicholas, Beaumont, Attwood, and Gladstone, pulled to a halt so Jesper could dismount to check some tracks. Carina reined in a safe distance behind them, content to let Nicholas enjoy hunting the King Stag while her wolves rounded up their own kills.
Ivy unhooked the water canteen from her saddle and took a quick drink. The Duchess watched her with a smile, happy to see her friend more energetic and at ease.
“So, what about you then?” Carina asked.
“Me?” Ivy wiped her chin as she turned to stare at the Duchess.
“Perhaps it’s time you choose a new name too since you’ll be starting a new life as the Matron of the orphanage.”
“Oh, I don’t think I could do that,” Ivy declined promptly as she sealed the canteen and returned it to the saddle. “My father chose this name. It’s the only thing I have left that he gave me, so—”
“That’s understandable,” Carina murmured, ignoring the uncomfortable ache in her chest. “And your mother?”
Ivy’s shoulders tensed as she gripped the reins tightly.
“She is here at Gilwren under Lady Priscilla,” Carina continued cautiously.
“I want nothing to do with her.”
“Of course,” Carina pressed her lips together. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Ivy’s mother appearing so soon after Borghese attempted blackmail was more than just a coincidence. “Still—we should be careful.”
‘But what could Borghese possibly hope to gain from a mother who sold off Ivy while she was still a child?’
“Yes,” Ivy murmured, her expression grim even as her voice remained firm but emotionless. “I don’t trust that woman. And for Lady Priscilla to have brought her here—” Ivy’s jade-green eyes were filled with fear as they turned towards Carina, “—they must be planning something against you, Kirsi.”
‘They should have chosen a different method,’ Carina thought grimly as she offered Ivy a reassuring smile. “Oh, I suspect they are.” The Duchess’s lips curled into a cold smile as she turned to survey the forest. Her ice-blue eyes shifting closer to white as she connected with Lumi’s split form and saw a kaleidoscope of images that contained the Stag King, Marquess’s Borghese’s hunting party, her scouts along the border, and a group of unidentified men wearing masks and bearing rifles, who were making their way deeper into the King’s Forest. “But then so am I.”
The forest and Ivy returned around her as Carina blinked and refocused on her immediate surroundings.
“Ivy, there is something—that I need to ask you—”
“Duchess!” Bromwell’s voice cut through her words as Carina turned to where her cousin was waving at them madly. Ahead of Bromwell, the crown prince and the rest of their forward party were already disappearing into the forest at a mad dash. “They’ve spotted the Stag King.”