Vixen Hunted (5 page)

"Why did they let
her meet with us?" Timothy asked Cat. She bleated her own question.
"Yeah, Cat is an odd name, don't you think?"

"Baa!" The
lamb protested.

Timothy ran his fingers
through his hair. "Okay, Cat it is then. I guess it fits since you are such
a strange lamb anyway." He pulled a small slip of paper from his pocket.
"I can't just take the money and walk away at this point, can I?" He
sighed and unfolded the paper. Childish writing was scrawled across the milky
page.

"'The fat man
plans the hunt tomorrow afternoon,'" Timothy read. "'I will need you
at the forest south of the town…Kit.'"

Timothy frowned. He
turned the paper over. That was all it said. "Tomorrow?"

"Baa."

"Yeah, I don't
like this either." Timothy itched between his shoulder blades. He looked
up at the sky. "It isn't too late for me to walk away, right?"

The green eyes flashed
in his mind. Timothy shook his head. "It was too late from the moment I
fell down that hill."

"Baa!"

Chapter 3

"My plan is good.
Genius even." Kyle gulped a mouthful of ale.

The tavern bustled with
excited conversation. People looked away when Timothy returned their bold
stares, but that did not stop them from tittering behind hands. He rubbed his
forehead. Stories about the gallant shepherd who stole the Lord's woman away
ran faster than sheep chasing a salt wagon. Timothy sipped a mug of warmed mint
tea, his stomach roiling. Kyle's plan was outlandish, but he had enough
experience getting in and out of trouble, after all. Knowing that did little to
quell Timothy's nerves.

"You a genius,
Kyle?" a woman across the tavern said.

"Oh, be quiet,
Erin. I have brains in me." Kyle tapped his head.

"Yeah, sure."
Erin adjusted her hat. "So is your friend the one we are hearing
about?"

The man next to Erin
stroked his ruffled white shirt. "He doesn't look like much to me, Erin. I
heard they found him in the Lord's bed. Somehow he escaped. Sounds like a nice
romp to me."

Erin rolled her eyes.
"You are such a romantic, Cliff."

"Nothing of the
sort," Kyle said. "Timothy is a proper gentleman. You know, Erin,
after we save his lady love, I am going to ask Henrietta." Kyle thrust his
mug into the air. "To love!"

Erin giggled behind her
hand.

"Kyle!"
Timothy spluttered on his tea. "You shouldn't—"

Cliff laughed.
"Yeah, sure. Just don't make me take your shift at the wall. Maybe
Henrietta will finally tame you. Gray hair certainly hasn't."

"My gray makes me
look distinguished." Kyle stroked his beard. "Henrietta is not woman
enough to tame me." He took a long pull of his mug.

"I will be sure to
tell her that." Erin tapped her lower lip and smirked.

Kyle spewed ale.
"No. Did I say not woman enough? I meant she…Timothy? Help me out
here."

"We should get
going, Kyle." Timothy pushed away from the table. Did he make the right
decision? It didn't matter. He could not back out now.

"Oh, right. Yeah.
We don't have much time left." Kyle finished his mug and tossed a few
coins on the table. Timothy laid a coin in the pile and stood up to leave. He
hoisted his pack."I'll see you at the wall tomorrow, Cliff. Take care,
Erin."

Kyle waved and shifted
an overstuffed travel pack slung over his shoulder. Timothy fidgeted at the
door.

"Do tell me how it
goes!" Erin adjusted her straw hat. "It should make for a good
story."

Cat waited outside,
munching on a wilted potted flower. A cool breeze tunneled through the streets
outside the inn. Autumn promised to appear soon. After the summer's heat, the
air felt icy. The streets brimmed with people going about their business.

"So, let's go over
the plan again," Kyle said. "The south wood has changed since we used
to hunt there. These nobles don't know how to hunt. They have men go in and
clear out all the underbrush so they can ride their horses around. Never mind
the fun of skulking through the thorns."

Cat scampered next to
Timothy. Her gaze flitted from person to person. Her tail fluttered against his
leg.

"So what we need
to do—" Kyle stumbled into Timothy. "What is it, Timothy?"

At the far end of the
street, two dozen riders surrounded Kit. She walked beside an enormous man in
rich fur-lined clothing. The man's bulk hung over his saddle. She wore her
simple clothing and a green-hooded cloak. On the other side of Kit rode a wispy
man. Both he and the fat man ignored her.

Blue-uniformed men
marched in a tight knot, muskets and crossbows resting against their shoulders.
Tahd's brown uniform stood out among the soldiers' blue tabards. He wore a
grimace and kept glancing at Kit. A dozen hounds followed behind, baying and
straining at their leashes. The entourage moved toward the south gate as people
pressed against stalls and buildings to let them pass.

"That's your
wife!" Kyle said. "Why isn't she riding with them?"

Kit looked over her
shoulder. Her gaze locked on Timothy, and she nodded once. How did she know
where to find him?

The gates groaned open,
and the entourage and Kit passed through.

Kyle's hand clamped on
Timothy's shoulder. "Why are you just standing there? We can beat them to
the forest if we take our old shortcut. She is your wife, isn't she? Let's
go!"

Timothy's feet moved
and Cat bounced next to Kyle. She glanced back as if to make sure Timothy
followed.

Kyle led them through
winding worn alleys to the eastern gate. "Remember, if we take this gate,
we can follow the stream straight into the forest. It is faster than taking the
south road like they will. Oh, don't tell me you don't remember."

"Yeah. Sure. I
guess." Timothy's mind roiled with his stomach. Did he really have to do
this?

"Where are you
heading today, Kyle?" the militiaman asked.

"Out to see our
old haunts and save a lovely lady," Kyle said.

"Does Henrietta
know about this lovely lady?"

"She's not mine,
Bill." Kyle shoved Timothy forward. "She's the wife of this lucky
guy. But you know how women can be."

Timothy shrugged. Did
Kyle have to tell everyone in Fairhaven Kit's lie?

Bill laughed. "I
do that. Though my wife says men are the reason women are as they are. Well, no
harm in letting you through." Bill nodded at the younger soldiers beside
him. The young men each grabbed one of the gate's iron rings and tugged. Cat
stampeded through the opening.

"Thanks,
Bill." Kyle clapped the man on the back. "Let's play cards again
sometime soon."

Kyle set a hard pace,
cutting across hilled pasture. Timothy's mind flitted. Did he think himself a hero
or something? Despite what Kyle thought, this was not a story. They could very
well be arrested, or worse.

The air felt cooler
than the last several days, but Timothy sweated. Cat chased butterflies and
scampered.
It must be nice to have only lamb worries.

The stream they
followed cut south into the forest. Timothy passed a sign warning against
trespassing, and maples and oaks engulfed them. Birdsong hushed.

"I wondered why so
many men left the town days ago," Kyle said. "They were cutting out
all the undergrowth."

The forest looked odd
without the usual tangled undergrowth. Brush and thistle showed the work of the
men, and debris and logs were piled high against boulders, out of the way.
Fresh wounds from low hanging limbs spoke of how important this hunt was.

"Looks like we
can't count on any riders smacking a low tree limb," Timothy said.

"And that was the
best part of the plan too," Kyle said. "These men don't know what it
means to hunt. A real hunter will come out with half the forest stuck to him."

"We should wait
here." Timothy pointed to where the manicure ended. The tangled thorns and
brush stood out like a missed patch on a shorn sheep. The stream gurgled just
beyond the tangle.

Cat tugged at a
raspberry bush. She bleated, frustrated.

Kyle fumbled with the
brown bandana around his neck. "Looks good. I will see about the traps.
There are enough thorns around."

"Traps?"

"Of course,
traps." Kyle pricked his finger on a thorn. "Do you think this pack
was just for show? I am going to make traps to take out some of these men. It
will be fun. If only I had buckets of ink or dye too."

Cat shoved her head
against Timothy, glancing from him to the raspberry bush and back. She bleated.

"You know they
could arrest us, or worse," Timothy said.

"All the more fun.
If only Henrietta could see what I have planned—"

"She would say you
are too old for this." Timothy yanked the raspberry bush down. Cat
attacked the berries, her tail blurring. Timothy stole one and almost lost a
finger to the lamb.

"Bah. You are
right, but I don't plan on stopping till I am in the grave. What's the point if
life's not an adventure?" Kyle pulled several coiled ropes from his pack.
"How will your lady love know where we are?"

"Somehow I don't
think that will be a problem."

Chapter
4

Howls split the night.
The moon cast an eerie glow through the forest canopy. Timothy shuddered. The
moon's light looked like the ribs of his poor dead sheep. Cat leaned against
him, her ears plastered to her head. She did her best to scowl at the pallid darkness.
Timothy should have left the lamb in town. He should have done a lot of things
in the past two days. A crack echoed through the woods and a hound yelped.

Kyle muffled a laugh.
"Got another one."

Shouts bounced off the
trunks of the manicured forest. Whatever they hunted gave them quite a chase.
Timothy peered into the trees in the distance, looking for Kit. He expected to
see her hours ago. He hoped she hadn't fallen into one of Kyle's scattered rope
traps. What did the hunters think of Kyle's traps?

"I should have one
more left." Kyle rubbed his hands. "Your lady love is taking her
sweet time finding us. Sounds like that hound broke his leg with how he's
carrying on. One of those hounds costs more than my year's wage. Serves them
right."

Timothy assumed Kit
would be with the men. She might follow them on foot with the hound wranglers.
He dreaded seeing her. Timothy had known her only a short time—a very short
time—but he doubted that would spare him from her tongue. Hopefully, she didn't
get snagged in one of Kyle's traps. That would certainly earn him a tongue
lashing.

Kyle pulled at his
ridiculous mask. "I didn't know my nose could sweat such," he
complained for the fifth time.

"Why are you
wearing it?" Timothy asked.

The sounds of the chase
drew closer. Whatever they hunted had to be exhausted by now. Timothy took a
steadying breath.

"I'd rather not
have to run away from town once this is over. If they don't know who I am, I
won't have anything to worry about," Kyle said. "Besides, it makes me
look dashing, doesn't it?"

A cloud engulfed the
moon. Timothy swallowed anxiety. A horse and man screamed in pain, and Timothy
jumped.

"Last trap."
Kyle adjusted his pack.

Timothy forced himself
to breathe. He needed to stay calm and think. Little chance of that. He was a
fool.

Cat's ears pricked. The
chase thumped away from them. Hounds barked, and men hooted. The hunt was
nearing an end.

A muffled curse cut
through trees right on top of them, and Kyle tensed. A dagger flashed into his
hand, and his fingers tightened around the hilt. Timothy wished he had brought
his crook. Cat stood alert, her nose and ears pointed at the rustling darkness.

A figure burst out of
the trees just as the clouds slipped from the moon. Moonlight streamed over red
hair. Dirt and leaves clung, and white skin gleamed through rips in the
figure's clothes. Mud, sweat, and scratches marked a freckled face. Green eyes
blazed.

Timothy gasped.

Two red-furred ears
tipped with white stood from the tangle of red hair. A red snowcapped tail,
covered with burrs, swished. A tail!

"What is
it?!" Kyle clutched dagger. "A demon?"

"Kit?"
Timothy's voice quivered.

Cat bounced over and
leaned against Kit's shredded leggings. The woman glared. "Who else would
it be, shepherd! Seriously, Cat has more sense than you."

Distant shouts and the
baying of hounds reverberated through the trees. Kit grimaced. "My trick
was discovered. With luck some fool fell into it. Nice traps, by the way. They
helped a bit. Well? Do you plan on serving tea and cookies, shepherd, or shall
we get going?"

Kit brushed past the
two men. Timothy shook himself and followed the swishing tail toward the
stream.

"She has a
tail?" Kyle lifted his fool mask. "You could've told me and spared me
the gray hairs. Is my beard white? It feels like it. She is like a creature
from the stories my grand pappy told!"

Kit turned from the
brambled stream bank. Her ears twitched. "Yes, I have a tail. You had best
not trample it. In fact, no touching it at all, Timmy. Stop gawking and
move!"

Kyle whistled softly.
"She is like Henrietta too. We better hurry."

Cat splashed ahead of
Timothy, looking as if she had half the forest in her wool. The little lamb
continued to surprise him. No lamb he knew would run toward danger.
"Dog" was a better name for the lamb than "Cat."

Moonlit reflections
churned in the water. The lamb scurried next to Kit, looking back at the two
men as if to make sure they were keeping up. Timothy felt safer with the
bristling wall of thorns between them and the hunters.

"I should have
planned an escape. I didn't think about that part." Kyle splashed.

The sound of pursuit
disappeared into the gurgling stream. Timothy winced with each footstep,
wishing the moon would hide again.

Timothy trudged beside
Kit. "They are…hunting you?"

Kit looked at him over
her shoulder. "No, we are having a dog show." Her fox ears slumped.
"The fat man is more resourceful than I thought. Before I saw you in town,
the fat man showed me and his business partner his trophy room." She
shivered. "I am not his first prize hunt. But this one will escape."

Timothy wiped his
forehead with a shaking hand. "What have I gotten into?" he mumbled.

"I said I was a
good judge of character, didn't I? I knew you couldn't resist saving a helpless
princess like me." Kit's tail fluttered.

Timothy stepped to the
side to avoid it brushing him.

"Now that isn't
nice, shepherd." Her ears pricked. "Good. They lost our scent."

"A tail."
Kyle shook his head. "Well, I wanted to be a hero in a story. Henrietta
won't believe this one."

"How can you know
they lost our scent?" Timothy asked.

"Her ears,
man." Kyle mimicked Kit's ears with his hands. "Don't you remember
the stories? Wait. Are all the stories true?"

Timothy's ears only
heard the gurgling stream and their own squelching feet.

Kyle cursed.

Yellow light lanced
across the water. Men stood at the tributary, shielded lanterns in their hands.
A fat man, cradling a long gilded musket, drooped beside the men, a richly
brocaded coat straining across his broad belly. A thin man fidgeted beside the fat
noble. Mud marred clothing better suited for a ball than a hunt. Kit hissed at
them.

"See, Lord Nylan?
The prey is wily. They like to use water to hide their scent from the hounds.
They rely too much on tricks and their ears." Treblin passed the musket to
the thin noble. "We just had to send the hounds away to make the prey feel
safe. Prey that feels it has freedom makes mistakes."

Light streamed behind
Timothy, and he turned to find a new threat. Tahd led another group of men.
They were trapped.

Kyle crouched, dagger
in hand. Kit growled, her ears lying flat against her head. Timothy gripped his
shirttails, his mind racing for solutions.

Lord Nylan took the
musket from the fat man. "You are right about this hunt, Lord Treblin.
This has been a thrilling romp. Perhaps I could enjoy her charms as well. I
shall aim for her leg."

"No! Lying with
her kind is a sin. Her kind is a rare hunt and nothing more." Lord Treblin
hesitated. "Pardon me, my Lord. Hunts fire my blood."

"No, no, Lord
Treblin. It is all right," Lord Nylan said. "I have never felt my
blood rise like this. I think the hunting is quite excellent. She is a pretty
thing. More's the pity."

"So you are the
ones who set those snares." Lord Treblin leveled a finger at Kyle and
Timothy. "Your traps cost me one of my hounds. Men, take them once the fox
is down."

"No. None of
that." Lord Nylan fumbled with the musket's frizzen. "I will pay for
your hound. The traps made the hunt so much more fun. I lost two of my men, but
it was well worth the excitement!"

Two men died, and they
thought it was exciting? Timothy shook his head.

"It was my good
pleasure, my lord." Kyle bowed.

Nylan laughed. "I
want these men rewarded, Lord Treblin. It has been most amusing."

Timothy felt a hand on
his shoulder, right over his scar. He looked over into Kit's green eyes—fierce,
angry, yet afraid. He swallowed and steeled himself.

"We are leaving
with her." Timothy was surprised at the sound of his own voice. It rang
clear despite his heart feeling like jelly.

"See now why you
need to avoid the charms of these demons?" Lord Treblin sighed. "The
poor boy is obviously taken. Shall you do the final honor, my Lord?"

"The hunt is over
so soon?" Lord Nylan fumbled with the musket.

"It is." Lord
Treblin said. "All that is left is for you to claim your trophy."

The thin man licked his
lips. "I want her alive. What good is a tail on my wall?" The
soldiers looked at each other. Several made a sign of the cross and frowned in
Kit's direction.

"Take the girl and
go," Kyle said in a low voice, his hand on Timothy's shoulder. "I
will distract them. Run to the men behind us. No arguments. Now's your
chance." He winked at Kit. "I said I was going to be a hero,
right?"

"But—"
Timothy started to say.

Kyle shoved him.
"Go!" he yelled and charged at the nobles. Surprise lit the men's
faces as Kyle bowled into them.

Kit snatched Timothy's
hand and ran in a red blur ahead of him. His legs and instinct took over. The
lamb pumped her short legs against the rocky stream bed as she followed them.
With one leap, Kit ran square into Tahd. The Inquisitor tumbled, the stream
turning his yell into gurgles. Behind them, Lord Nylan yelled for help, and men
raced toward the shout. Kyle was right again. Not that Timothy was ever going
to admit it to the man.

Cat crashed into a
man's knee. Dropped lanterns hissed to black. Timothy leapt over where the men
collapsed, and his foot stomped on something soft. He stumbled but kept his
footing. Timothy ran blind, hoping his eyes would adjust to the dark soon.

Kit jerked his hand.
"This way." Her eyes gleamed with a light of their own.

They veered through a
low bank, and thorns tore at their skin and clothes. Cat darted ahead.
Timothy's lungs ached, and his heart threatened to burst. Cat bleated her
surprise as dark shapes surged past. The ground disappeared beneath them. Roots
and fallen branches bruised and scratched. The world tumbled and snapped around
them.

Timothy rolled to a
stop, heart loud in his ears. He lay on his back, waiting for the world to stop
spinning. Kit panted not too far away.

"We have to keep
moving, shepherd."

"As long as they
don't sick the hounds on us." Timothy hoisted himself up. The world
decided to hold steady. Cat frowned up at Timothy, looking like some sort of
forest monster covered in leaves, twigs, and dirt. Those liquid eyes held
concern.

"Tough little
girl." Timothy rubbed the lamb's head.

"I hate
dogs." Kit's ears twitched.

"I don't think I
will get used to that," Timothy said under his breath, looking at her
ears.

"I am just me.
Let's go." Kit snatched his hand.

They rushed with ears
strained against the darkness. Timothy's mind fluttered. They would not kill
Kyle, would they? Kyle was tough, but those were hunters. Not to mention that
attacking nobles guaranteed a death sentence. Just who was this girl who held
his hand? Was she really a fox demon? His mind scurried ahead of his feet but
found no answers.

The woods revealed a
collapsing farm house, the weathered roof drooping to the ground on one end.
Vines and saplings peeked through the many holes in the walls. It looked
wonderful to Timothy's tired eyes.

"I'm exhausted. We
have to stop and rest." Exhaustion dragged at him.

Kit nodded and gasped
for air, her ears slumping. Timothy felt ashamed of his exhaustion. The hunters
had chased her for the better part of the day, yet she said nothing about how
tired she must feel.

They slipped under a
door of hardened wild grapevines. The floorboards creaked. Broken furniture and
several moth-eaten rags littered the room. Moonlight played a merry tune for
the dust.

Timothy flopped down,
and Kit slumped against one of the walls. Cat faced the entrance, pulling at
her wool while keeping one eye on the copse of trees in the distance. Timothy
yawned. Kit's eyes had already closed, and her chest rose and fell with sleep.

"Can you keep
watch for us, Cat?" A second yawn cracked his jaw. A short rest. That was
all they needed.

"Baa!" Cat
yanked a thorn branch from her wool and threw it aside.

Timothy chuckled. He
spoke to a lamb, and she understood.

So tired.
"I am just going
to rest my eyes." Timothy drifted. In the distance, he thought he heard
hounds baying.