When there was a — bark. Yes, a bark, surely from a dog, and then another over it, closer this time.
Ella didn’t own a kennel, or lapdogs — dogs were dirty, her mother always said, and entirely unsuitable for an heiress of Ella’s standing — and while this little copse of trees was a good distance into the forest, it was still technically on Ella’s land. So what the hell weredogsdoing here, at this hour of the morning?
But in front of her, Natt had gone unnervingly stiff, his previously easy form crouched and corded, his hand clamped tight to his sword-hilt. His eyes had squeezed shut, his head shaking, his grimacing mouth spitting out a quiet steady stream of harsh, guttural words Ella couldn’t begin to comprehend.
“What?” she said, without at all meaning to. “What is it, Natt?”
Natt’s head jerked toward her, and he visibly winced, almost as if he were in pain. “Up the tree, lass,” he hissed. “Now.”
Ella blinked at him, and shrank backwards — she hadn’t climbed a tree in nearly a decade, and she was currently wearing asleeping-shift— but Natt’s strong hand suddenly grasped at hers and dragged her closer, toward the tree he’d just jumped out of.
“Up,” he breathed again, as the sound of the barking dogs came closer, and closer. “Else you shallneverhave this life you wish for. You shall never marry this lord. Up,now!”
Ella could never remember seeing Natt look like this before, with such panic and urgency all over his form, and it was that, more than the odd Alfred threat, that finally set her climbing. Grasping at the tree’s lowest branches, wincing at the hard scrape of bark on her pristine skin — and then, with Natt’s strong hands half-shoving, half-lifting her, she somehow swung a foot up onto the branch.
She’d torn her sleeping-shift in the process, but she was standing in the tree now, and she carefully crept to the next branch, and then the next. Up and up and up, as the bark of dogs came closer, and with it — Ella froze — the distinctive sounds of horses, stamping and whinnying nearby. And then — voices. Men’s voices. Coming closer.
“There he is!” one called. “We’ve got him, boys!”
Ella couldn’t seem to breathe, or follow that, and she craned to look downward through the branches, her heart lurching through her chest — and here, already dashing into her copse, were three lean little hunting-dogs, barking and growling at Natt’s stiff, unmoving form. And close behind the dogs weremen, five armed men, all with black cloth masks tied over their mouths and noses. They were scrambling up Ella’s hill, straight toward Natt, and Nattstillwasn’t moving, why thehellwasn’t Natt moving —
The first man charged into the copse with his sword drawn, his voice shouting — but when he caught sight of Natt he reeled back, his steps faltering, his sword bobbing in his gloved hand. But he seemed to regain his composure as two more masked men charged into the copse, and then two more. Every single one wearing stiff leather armour and helmets, and every one with a gleaming, straight-edged sword in hand.
But Natt still hadn’t moved. Not even to draw his own sword, and not to run, or climb, or escape. And he could have so easily escaped, it should have cost himnothing, and Ella couldn’t stop staring, her hands grasping painfully at the rough tree-trunk, while her heart sought to thunder its way out of her chest.
The masked men had formed a loose circle around Natt, far too close within the tight ring of trees, near enough that they could have reached their sword-points and touched his bare chest. But Natt still hadn’t drawn his sword, why hadn’t he drawn his sword, and instead he just kept standing there, every muscle locked tight, as though he might explode at any moment…
“Trespassing on private property,” one of the men said, his cool, mocking voice muffled under his mask. “Breaking thelaw. And thus, violating section three of our recently ratified andextremelygeneroustreaty, right boys?”
Several of the men nodded — one of them laughed behind his mask — and the first man, perhaps the leader, stepped even closer to Natt, his sword nearly nudging Natt’s stiff bare chest. “We’ve got you, you ugly beast,” he said. “Will you come quietly, and face your punishment? Or are you going to put up a fuss, and make us show you who’s still in charge around here? Who’llalwaysbe in charge around here?”
Natt didn’t move, didn’t speak, and another one of the men snorted under his mask. “He probably can’t even understand you, Byrne. They’ve got about as much brains as one of these dogs.”
The man gave a callous kick at the nearest dog as he spoke, making it give a high-pitched yelp before darting away, and Ella’s scraped, shaking hands gripped harder at the tree. They were here to take Natt, tohurtNatt, they couldn’t, theycouldn’t—
But Natt still wasn’t moving. Wasn’t speaking. Was just standing there, tall and tense, like a spring wound too tight, coiled and cramped and waiting —
“He’s had his warning, boys,” the first man said, every word a sickening thud in Ella’s gut. “Now,gethim.”
12
It was like the world swerved and screamed, all at once. Filled with shouting masked men and flashing steel swords, all swarming at Natt in a flood.
Surely Natt had been caught in it, drowned, his beautiful warmth already seeping away, bleeding out on the earth — but somehow, thank the gods, he’d ducked, androlled. Out of the copse entirely, to where there was a little clearing, more space.
He didn’t seem hurt, rising gracefully again to the balls of his feet — but he still hadn’t drawn his sword, and Ella’s distant, shouting thoughts noted that he’d somehow lost the pack and water-skin, leaving both his bare arms free. But his claws weren’t even out, and the men had already chased after him, coming to circle him again —
“Get him!” the first man yelled, and all five seemed to charge at once — but again Natt ducked and rolled. In the process somehow grasping for one of the men’s swords, wrenching it out of his hands. And then hurling it against another nearby tree, where the pointed blade sank deep into the thick tree-trunk, the exposed hilt wildly vibrating at the impact.
It meant the man had to rush after his sword, struggling to yank it out of the tree, but there were still four more men, advancing back toward Natt. The leader signalling at the other three, in some kind of silent command — and then he charged straight at Natt again, his blade flashing and weaving in the brightening morning light.
Natt knocked the man’s arm away, ducking sideways beneath — but when he came up to standing again, shifting on the balls of his feet, Ella could see the cut on his bare shoulder, the red blood already trickling bright against the grey-green skin. And what in the gods’ names was he doing, why didn’t he draw his sword, use his claws,something—
But the men were only circling again, clearly now taking more care, silently speaking to one another. Spreading out a little wider, two of them angling behind Natt’s back, while the others charged from the front —
Natt still managed to roll away, but now there was another deep, ugly cut in his skin, dripping liberally from the back of his forearm. He must have used his bare arm to stop a blade, and surely he knew how to fight, surely he could run, what was this, this wasmadness—
But the hell before Ella’s eyes only kept unfolding, the men surging at Natt again and again, the sounds of shouts and clangs rising through the trees. And somehow Natt had wrested away another sword, this time hurling it high up into the distance, but he was bleeding liberally from multiple cuts, even on hisface, and Ella could see the pain in his eyes, could feel it in her bones.
