Page 21 of The Queen's Huntsman
Ran for Pretania.
Ran for her father.
Ran for her people.
It was difficult to gauge her footing amidst uneven terrain, concealed by so much detritus. Gwendolyn tripped, and then tripped again, unable to stifle a yelp as behind her, she heard another squeal of protest from Beryan’s horse.
Holding back a sob, she bounded to her feet and slid quickly behind a fat oak, trembling from head to toes, standing with her back against the rough bark, hands flat against the wood, praying to any god who could hear her—old and new!
Please, please, please…
“This way!” she heard one man shout, and then she heard the rush of a thousand feet as they came in her direction.
Warriors.
Horses.
Hounds.
Done.
I am done.
Closer.
Closer.
Closer.
“Over here!” said one man, his dog yapping wildly.
Intuitively, Gwendolyn’s hand flew to Borlewen’s dagger, unsheathing it, making herself ready. She didn’t know how many she could take down before she died, but she would take as many as she could. A thousand years passed in a heartbeat. A hundred fears roared through a single shiver.
Gwendolyn’s heart hammered fiercely, and still she could hear even the tiniest of sounds… the leaves rustling as the dogs nosed for her scent… the jeers of men as they pursued the dogs.
“Here! Here!” She heard one man bellow. “Over here!” And then every sound became one sound… like the roar of thunder.
Biting her lip to keep from crying out, she tried to make herself as small as possible, willing them to turn in another direction—and then suddenly, inexplicably, she felt the ground shift beneath her feet, and for one terrible, heart-stopping moment, she feared she had swooned. Gods.They would come upon her prostate in these leaves and skewer her through—but nay, it was as though the tree she was hiding behind grew limbs…
Round and around and around the boughs went, encircling Gwendolyn, trapping her. Round and round and round.
She grew disoriented and tried to wrench herself free, but found she was trapped. Dizzy and frightened, she opened her mouth to scream as another limb encircled her head, restraining her, and no sound emerged from her lips.
Fear gripped her heart, then squeezed.
Gwendolyn gasped for breath, but couldn’t breathe…
ChapterNine
And then suddenly, she could.
Breathe.
How?
Within moments, Loc’s soldiers had infiltrated the area, searching high and low behind trees, uprooting bracken. Yet somehow, while Gwendolyn could see them, they couldn’t see her—all save for one snarling hound. Teeth bared, it pounced after her, then back, looking both frightened and fierce at once. Ears folded back, it returned to sniff at her feet, but even to Gwendolyn, her feet no longer appeared to be feet.
How could this be?
