Huntsmen and Hoods Read online

  A warm fuzzy sensation spreads through me at his words. It's not often I get to hear what other people think of me in that way, and I appreciate him being honest with me. Except that what he's said isn't completely true.

  "Not all of them," I admit softly, Peter's cruel taunts running through my mind.

  Kit startles, understanding dawning on him. "Do you think he would?"

  "I wouldn't put anything past him," I mutter darkly.

  "Who, dear?" Grandmother asks, setting a basket of fresh bread on the table.

  "Peter," I admit.

  "Oh, I never liked him. You didn't tell me he was going to be at the academy with you."

  "I didn't know." Though even if I had, I don't think I'd have told my family. None of them think particularly fondly of Peter at the best of times, and hate what he did to me. "It was a bit of a shock."

  "I can believe it of him, but what are we going to do about it?" Kit asks.

  I shrug. "The only thing we can do. We have to work out a way to get him to admit to it. After that, we can take it to the Head Huntsman." At least, that's the only thing I can think of.

  Kit nods. "We need to get back to the academy before he has a chance to cover his tracks, then."

  My heart breaks for the lost time with Grandmother, but from the look in her eyes, she understands why we have to do this.

  "I'm sorry..." I start.

  "Don't be, dear. I understand that you have to do this. He's too dangerous to have around if he's going to attack you like that."

  I smile weakly. The last thing I expected to happen when I joined the Huntsmen was to become a target for my former sweetheart. I'd rather hoped to never see his face ever again.

  "We'll come back for a visit in a week or two when your medicine needs replacing," I promise.

  Grandmother frowns, and sets down the plate she's carrying. "What medicine?"

  "Oh, sorry. I forgot to give it to you with everything going on." I reach into the small bag attached to my belt and pull out the small bottle Kit gave me, and push it towards her.

  "What do I need it for?" Grandmother asks, seeming genuinely confused.

  "I...I don't know," I admit. "I got Father's letter, and then came straight here. I didn't ask any questions."

  "Your Father's letter? I haven't seen your Father since before you went to the academy. He's been busy making and selling bows to the local men so he can help pay for your equipment."

  My heart swells at the thought of Father doing that. I'll turn him down when he offers me the money, but the thought means everything to me. I'm lucky he supports my dreams.

  "So, you're saying you aren't sick?" Kit asks, jumping to the conclusion I'm still working towards.

  Grandmother shrugs. "Unless it's something I don't know about yet, I'm not."

  Oh. "Then why did I get a letter from Father saying you were?" I dive back into the pouch and pull out the letter, handing it to her.

  She takes it, and scans the badly written words there. "I don't think your Father wrote this," she says, handing it back to me. "Look how he's written your name."

  Aredenne. How hadn't I noticed this before?

  "He never uses my full name," I whisper, touching my fingers to the paper. Father is the one who first called me Red. He wouldn't go back on that in a letter. Not even one about something as serious as this.

  "Someone else wrote that letter, and tricked you into coming here," Grandmother says, voicing all our thoughts. "And whoever it was probably isn't your friend."

  No. I don't imagine they are.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Aredenne, Theo, your turn," Flynn announces, stepping out of the chalk sparring ring which has been drawn in the centre of camp and wiping his face on a cloth.

  He strides over to where one of the others holds out his cloak. He takes it from him and swings it around his shoulders with ease. As I have every time I've encountered one of the other Huntsmen since getting back, I find myself searching the clasp of his cloak to see if he still has his pin.

  Sure enough, it glints in the bright sunlight.

  Everyone here is wearing a pin. Which isn't too surprising. We already think we know who is responsible for the attack outside Grandmother's. Not that we've told anyone. We're doing our duty and keeping an eye on everyone. There were three men, which means Peter will have had to get help from somewhere.

  I swing off my own cloak and hang it on a low hanging branch. As I walk into the ring, Toby hands me a wooden staff. I nod briefly in thanks, then step inside the ring.

  The smooth wood sits easily in my hands, the staff being neither too heavy, nor too light. In theory, it should make this kind of sparring easy, but Theo has the advantage of a couple years more training than I do, and practice can't be beaten.

  But I'm going to try.

  I spin the staff around, getting a good feel for it as the wood whooshes through the air. I nod, then spread my feet apart and get ready for Theo's attack.

  He isn't the broadest of the Huntsmen, but he's lithe and quick, which make him just as effective. But then, I can use those to my advantage too.

  I duck the moment he moves within reach of me, then spin around on one foot and pop up behind him. He stumbles forward, then turns.

  "Nice move," he acknowledges.

  It's impossible to stop the smile from spreading over my face. "Thanks."

  This is one of the things I like about sparring like this. All of the Huntsmen give one another notes and encouragement, even while the fight is happening. While the aim is to win, the point is for us all to learn. And to do that, we need to appreciate the things the other person does.

  I zip forward and bring down my staff, using it length-ways. Theo blocks it with ease, the loud thwack accompanied by the whole thing vibrating beneath my fingers. I loosen my grip ever so slightly to lessen the tension, then move to attack again.

  Neither of us says anything as we parry against one another. Sweat beads on my forehead, but I ignore it. The longer the match goes on, the more invigorated I feel.

  I sweep my staff out with one hand, holding it closer to the end than I should.

  Theo jumps to avoid the staff, then stumbles over the chalk line.

  I stare at him for a moment, trying to work out how that just happened. Technically, by the rules of the spar, I've won. But it doesn't feel like I've beaten him.

  "Well done," Theo says, dipping his head in a bow to acknowledge his defeat.

  "Thanks." I glance around trying to work out what I need to do now. Most people have only done one match, but they all lasted longer than ours and ended in a fake death.

  "I'll take a turn," Kit says.

  My heart leaps at the sight of him. I have no idea when he arrived at the ring. He was sent off on a small mission after breakfast. But that doesn't matter. He's back now, and I get to see him again.

  He takes the staff from Theo and strides towards me, a large grin on his face.

  "Are you sure that's wise?" I tease. "You just saw my victory, right?"

  He chuckles. "And now I want to find out if you can beat me too." He twirls his staff around one hand. It moves so smoothly, and so effortlessly, that jealous springs up within me. It disappears quickly enough, but there's no mistaking what it is.

  "And if I can?" I ask as he steps closer.

  My whole body vibrates at his closeness, and I do everything I can to focus my attention and not let him confuse me.

  "If you lose, you have to go to one of the balls up at the main castle."

  I grimace. "I'll only agree to that if you go with me." My traitorous heart seems to like the idea of him dressed up nicely with me on his arm. I don't even have anything to wear to one of the balls.

  We circle one another as we speak, both searching for a weak spot so we can prove we're the better competitor of the two of us.

  "Of course. I wouldn't miss seeing you in a dress for the world." There's a twinkle in his eyes that I don't want to put a name to. Or maybe I don
't want to. It's hard to tell.

  "Fine. And if I win?"

  "I'll buy you a new knife. A good one."

  "That's a very generous offer," I observe.

  "Then you better make sure you win," he teases, then lurches forward.

  I bring my staff up and block his attack, then return with one of my own as quickly as I can. The motion takes Kit off guard, and he stumbles, but manages to catch himself just before he falls out of the circle. This isn't going to be a fight I can win the same way as against Theo. Not when we've been training together for so long already. He knows the way I move.

  But I also know him. Maybe not well enough to beat him, unless I get lucky. But I can make him work for his win.

  I duck even before his staff moves, then roll to get out of the way, being careful to place my staff flat on the ground as I go forward so I don't hurt myself. I spring to my feet and turn around, trying not to worry too much about how close I am to the edge of the circle.

  I take a steadying breath and face him again.

  "You're getting good at this," Kit observes as he attacks again.

  I block his next hit before replying. "Maybe I have natural talent."

  "Without a doubt. But I hear your teacher is pretty good too."

  I laugh as I bring my staff down, only for him to parry the blow. "Only in his mind."

  "Ouch." The smile on his face takes the sting out of his response. He isn't insulted. He's having too much fun for that.

  We exchange a few more blows, both concentrating on how we're going to best the other.

  As Kit starts to swing his staff again, I spot an opening. Using a move I've only ever tried on one of the boys back home, and even then it was with a stick, I crouch low to the ground and swing my staff around. It catches the back of his legs and he stumbles forward.

  I start to get to my feet, realising too late that all I've managed to do is move him closer to me. He falls forward, his body crashing into mine, and the two of us fall to the floor.

  My back hits the ground with a heavy thud, and I can feel every stone through my clothes. They barely register. All of my focus is on Kit's body pressed against mine.

  Our faces are inches apart, both of our staffs lying on the ground next to us.

  Neither of us move, our gazes locked and our breath mingling. I want to close the small gap between us and press my lips against his.

  Wait. I want to do what?

  The past month all snaps into focus, culminating in Grandmother's words about there being something special between us. Is she right? Should I be thinking of Kit as something more than my Huntsman partner? None of the others make me feel the same way he does.

  I lick my lips, and his gaze drops to them.

  I push all thoughts of him aside and use his distraction to my advantage. I lift my knees, noting how easily he's letting me do it. More fool him. With one swift movement, I push, flipping him over and rolling the two of us. I draw my knife and press it against his throat, knowing he'll trust me not to make an actual cut.

  "I believe this means I win," I murmur, still not moving away from him.

  Pride fills his gaze as he stares up at me. "I believe it does. Though I think it's also cheating."

  "No one ever said I couldn't use another weapon," I point out.

  "Then it's a loophole."

  "One that means you owe me a new knife," I quip.

  He chuckles. "That I do."

  I jump to my feet then offer him a hand up. He takes it, his touch sending shivers down my spine. Trying to stop them, I let go of his hand, but the damage is already done. I don't think I can go back to thinking of him as just a friend any time soon. Maybe in time my feelings will fade and I won't have to worry about it. But I'm not going to count on it.

  We pick up our staffs and walk out of the ring.

  "Well done, Red," Theo says. "I'm glad it isn't just me you can beat."

  I chuckle. "Worried about being beaten by a girl?" I try to hide the resentment I feel at that.

  He holds his hand up in surrender. "Not at all. But I should be a little worried about being beaten by the newest Huntsman."

  "It was nothing more than luck."

  I freeze as Peter's voice washes over me. I turn around slowly, knowing what I'm going to see even before I do.

  My focus flits to the claps of his cloak and is met by nothing but red.

  His Huntsman pin is missing.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I stare across the surface of the lake, trying to come to terms with how it felt to be in the sparring ring with Kit. Being so close to him is unlike anything I've ever experienced before, and I'm not sure I can let that go.

  And Grandmother thinks we have something special. That thought in particular is one that won't leave me alone. As if it knows how powerful it is and how much it can influence how I feel.

  "Red?" Kit asks.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath before turning around.

  "Is everything all right?" I should have known he'd find me here. He showed me this place while we were out on patrol.

  "Yes. I just needed to talk to you. If that’s alright.” He doesn't make eye contact as he speaks, which is unusual in itself.

  "What's on your mind?" I ask, silently begging it's the same thing I'm thinking about too. It'll make things so much easier if we're on the same page. And so much harder too. I don't know if there are any rules about Huntsmen being together. Or if the rules will be different because I'm female.

  "Us," he says simply.

  Relief rushes through me.

  "What about us?" My voice shakes even as he draws closer. Somehow, he's gained the ability to break my heart, and I'm not too sure how it happened.

  He stops a few paces away from me. Too far away from me. But I don't move closer. Now isn't the time for that. I need to take a deep breath and let him speak his mind before I do anything we both regret.

  "I want to kiss you," he whispers.

  A smile breaks out over my face at the words, though he seems too worried about my response to actually notice it.

  I don't think about it too much and close the gap between us. I go up on my toes and press my lips against his. He's surprised at first, but before I know it, his arm is snaking around my waist and he pulls me close, deepening the connection between us. I melt into him, knowing with every fibre of my being that this is right. This is how things are supposed to be. Grandmother is right. This is something special. I'm not sure what yet, but we'll work it out.

  We break apart, both breathing heavier than before.

  "I guess you wanted to kiss me too, then?" Kit says.

  I chuckle. "Whatever gave you that idea?" I wink, but can't keep the grin off my face.

  "That isn't actually why I came to find you," he says.

  I cock my head to the side. "Then why did you say it was?"

  "Because it was the only thing I could think about. It has been for weeks. You've gotten under my skin in the best way, Red. Seeing you is the best part of my day. Knowing we have to be apart is the worst."

  "I didn't know you were a romantic," I observe, mostly to give myself a chance to work out how to respond.

  "I'm not. You've simply turned my world upside down."

  "And you mine," I admit. "I came here to be a Huntsman, not start courting someone."

  "But you're still willing to?" he asks, hope tinting his words.

  "It would be a little mean to kiss you and then tell you I don't want you," I point out.

  "I've heard of worse," Kit admits.

  "That's not my style."

  "No. It isn't."

  "So, what did you come to talk to me about if it wasn't to kiss me?" I prompt, somewhat intrigued. "Did you already pick out my new knife?" I tease.

  "I thought we could go into town and do that together," he says.

  "I'd like that."

  I take his arm and guide him to the big flat rock which sits on the side of the lake. We sit next to each oth
er, our legs touching. Being with him was comfortable before, but now, it's even more so. It's so natural to be in his space.

  Kit digs into his pack and pulls out a small round object.

  "What is it?"

  "A spelled message ball," he says. "If you twist the top, it starts recording."

  "I've never seen one before."

  "They're exclusive to the Huntsmen, I don't think outsiders are supposed to know about them." He hands me the ball.

  I turn it over in my hand, trying to make sense of it. The outside is a rough leather, but doesn't appear to be anything special. That's probably the point of it. No one will look too closely at an object they think has no value.

  "How did you get it?" I ask.

  Kit shrugs. "I asked if I could show you how to use one."

  "Why did you want to show it to me?"

  "I thought we could use it to trap Peter into admitting what he did. If we have a recording of his voice, no one will be able to say it's just something we made up."

  "Oh." I study the ball closer. "How does it turn on?"

  "Flick this part." He points to a tiny bobble at the top. "And do it again when you want to stop recording."

  "Thank you," I whisper. "Not just for this. But for everything."

  "It's my pleasure, Red."

  He leans in, and my eyes flutter closed in anticipation. His lips are soft on mine, welcoming and full of affection. He isn't pressuring me, and I appreciate that, even if I don't think he has to be as careful as he is being.

  A loud mocking laugh breaks through our kiss, and we pull away from one another to find Peter striding into the clearing around the lake.

  I narrow my eyes at him. He has the worst timing imaginable. Right now, I don't want my former sweetheart around.

  "This isn't how Huntsmen are supposed to behave, Aredenne," he sneers.

  "She isn't doing anything wrong," Kit snaps.

  Peter simply strides closer, menace in his gaze. "Of course you're here to defend her. At least we have a reason why you're doing it now."

  I rise to my feet and step forward, determined for him not to see me cower. "You don't know what you're talking about." I move the little ball around in my hand so I can press the little bobble on top. He may not say anything incriminating now, but we can find a different way to get the truth out of him in that case. If he does say something, then I want to have a record of it. He can't get away with what he's doing.