Page 30 of Pippa of Lauramore
I open my eyes. “The garden maids need another flower bed to keep them busy.”
He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press for an explanation.
CHAPTER 7
The hawk screams in the sky, and Archer rides up next to me. He puts a finger to his lips. “She sees someone,” he whispers.
I nod and pull Willowisp back.
Archer continues on the trail ahead of us, and I wait for him to return. He does, several minutes later, shaking his head. “Lord Orick.”
He turns down a deer trail and waves for me to follow him as we skirt around the lord. We’ve done this routine several times now, and I can’t help but think we’re getting close to Galinor.
The deeper into the dark timber we get, the more likely we are to run into a grim boar—and the more likely we are to run into the men hunting them.
Biting gnats are thick here, and I wish I’d thought to visit Yuven for a repellent. I slap my arm and groan, resisting the urge to scratch the bites. I glance at Archer.
“Why aren’t they attacking you?” I ask, my voice alittle testy. I have more exposed skin along my arms, neck, and chest, but he has his tunic sleeves rolled up due to the heat.
He glances back. “A laundry girl made a batch of soap with repelling oils in it, and she gave it to me. It seems to work.”
That explains his earthy, pine scent earlier.
“That was kind of her. I’m sure the woodsman and knights appreciate it as well.”
A ghost of a smirk tips his lips. “It was just for me.”
I open my mouth to respond but close it again. “Oh,” I finally answer lamely. “How lovely of her.”
The hawk cries again, and this time I’m sure it’s Galinor.
“Let me come with you,” I whisper.
“No. Wait here.”
I follow him anyway. Through the trees, I see a horse and rider. The horse is dark in the shadows, and I’m sure it’s Galinor’s bay. Excited to have finally found him, I hurry past Archer.
“Pippa, no!”
The rider turns toward us, having heard the noise. His horse takes a few steps, going from shadow to sunlight, and I gasp.
It’s Rigel.
I pull Willowisp behind a cluster of trees, but I’m not sure if he saw me.
“Who’s there?” Rigel calls.
I shiver and clamp by jaw shut, trying to stay as quiet as possible.
“Show yourself,” he says, louder this time.
Archer glares at me, and he’s just turning his horse when there’s a loud crashing in the brush to the south of us. I stifle a scream. I can smell the grim boar from here, and it reeks. I peek through the trees, hoping to spot it. I’ve only seen a live one once or twice, and I forgot how large they are.
Its head comes to Rigel’s waist.
The boar charges with a guttural cry. Almost as soon as the attack starts, it goes silent. It shouldn’t surprise me a dragon slayer would make quick work of a charging grim boar. A morbid part of me wants to see the creature and make sure it’s really dead.
“Now is the time to leave,” Archer says from beside me.
