2

England

1538


Scarlet hid behind a thick tree in the morning sun and watched him from a safe distance. He was a practiced marksman, that much was certain. But his target, an unsuspecting deer in the distance, was too far away for even the best of hunters to hit.

From where she stood, Scarlet could not determine what age the stranger was. He looked like a boy, but moved with the confidence of a man. He wore fine clothes with a patch on his arm displaying an unfamiliar family crest, and his dark hair curled against the back of his neck in the morning heat.

His movements were smooth and silent as he retrieved a long arrow from the quiver at his back and drew on his bow.

Patiently, he waited; his eyes steeled, his body motionless.

The deer was grazing alone, looking up skittishly every few minutes. The shot was impossible, not only because of the sheer distance the arrow would have to travel, but also because of the numerous trees that stood between the stranger and his target. The arrow would have to be launched with incredible strength and fly error-free if he wished to hit his mark.

Scarlet held her breath as she watched the stranger’s steady hand release the arrow.

It shot through the morning forest, silent and swift. And the deer fell to the earth.

Impossible.

Scarlet was so impressed, she nearly forgot why she was hiding behind the tree. Creeping out quietly, she trailed the man for many yards as he walked to claim his prey, keeping herself invisible within the forest.

Once the stranger reached the deer, Scarlet moved from the shadows and pulled out her own bow and arrow. Lining up carefully, she targeted the branch beside the stranger’s handsome head and released.

Bull’s-eye.

Startled, the stranger whipped his head toward her and went for his bow.

“Hello, hunter,” Scarlet said, drawing another arrow and aiming at his head. “I would not do that if I were you.”

He stopped reaching for his weapon and froze.

She watched his chest rise and fall with a deep breath.

“What is it you want?” He looked her over with curious eyes.

She was a bit of a spectacle, she supposed, with her dark hair falling loose down her back and her cloak undone around her dress. Most girls did not hunt alone. And surely none ventured into the deep forest of the earl.

But Scarlet was not most girls.

“I want your kill.” Scarlet glanced down at the dead creature at his feet. She had not seen an animal worth eating in months, and certainly none as large as a deer. Her spirits lifted at the thought of returning home with meat for dinner.

He looked at her for a long moment. “And why would I hand over a perfectly good deer to a thief in the woods?”

“Because,” Scarlet lifted her brow a notch, “I have my arrow set at your skull.”

He seemed entertained. “And you plan to shoot me?”

Squinting, Scarlet readjusted her arrow and let it sail. It landed exactly where she wanted it to: a tree trunk in the distance. But it cut straight through the hunter’s shirt collar on the way, leaving a jagged hole.

The entertainment left his face and, while he was busy checking his neck for blood, Scarlet drew another arrow.

Jaw clenched, the stranger said, “What if I told you, you would have to run your arrow through my head if you wanted the animal?”

Scarlet smirked. “I would say that it would be a shame to waste such a handsome face over a deer.”

He smirked back. “You think I’m handsome?”

“I think you are arrogant enough to get yourself killed by a girl.”

“You mean a thief?” he said. “Because you are no more than that.”

“As are you, hunting on the earl’s land.”

This seemed to shut him up for a moment. Wild game had been scarce as of late, making the earl greedier than usual. This stranger could be put to death for taking a deer from the eastern forest, as could Scarlet, if she were ever caught. She thieved and hunted here nearly every day.

But she had no choice. She needed food.

Happy birds chirped out their morning song as minutes fell between Scarlet and the stranger.

The hunter crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I propose we split the deer.”

Scarlet narrowed her eyes.

He shrugged. “You’re hungry, I’m hungry. If we split the deer, and you lower your bow, then we shall both have food today. And you will not have to murder anyone on the earl’s land.” He smiled. “I’m sure that is against the law as well.”

Bow still poised, Scarlet said, “I’d be a fool to trust a thief.”

He smiled. “Then it is lucky I am not a thief.”

A minute passed.

Against her better judgment, Scarlet lowered her arrow, her arm grateful for the reprieve. “Very well,” she said, still poised to draw. “Cut up the deer.”

He shook his head. “If you are so determined to take half of what is mine, then you can section the animal.” There was challenge in his voice and Scarlet realized he did not believe she could quarter a deer.

Men.

She curled her lip. “Fine by me, hunter.” She moved closer to the stranger. “But as I do, we will both put our weapons away. I can’t have you shooting me once I reach the animal.”

“Fair enough.” He put his bow on his back and sheathed the arrow he’d drawn earlier.

He was too trusting. A hunter like him was sure to die young.

Scarlet slowly put her bow and arrow away as well, and retrieved her jagged hunting knife from her belt.

“Now, how is that fair?” The hunter eyed her sharp blade.

She raised her eyebrow as she walked around him and kneeled beside the deer. “How am I supposed to divide the meat without a knife?”

He smiled down at her and two dimples framed his mouth. He was handsome. And younger than she’d first thought, a teenager like herself. He looked carefree and strong and she thought of how he probably had a family somewhere that he was trying to provide for.

Guilt stung her soul.

But survival quickly soothed it.

Scarlet blinked away the handsome hunter and started cutting into the fallen creature.

He watched her for a moment. “Are you not scared that I might overtake you without a weapon? You are quite small. I could probably shove you away from my kill with one hand and run off with the deer without sharing.”

Scarlet did not look up. She felt no threat from the hunter. In fact, she felt as though he was amused with her. “That would be risky, hunter, since I’m the one with a butcher’s knife in my hand and all the skills necessary to dismember you.”

He laughed softly. “You are brave, I’ll give you that. And you speak without fear, which is refreshing only because you are a girl covered in the blood of a deer.” A moment passed. “Tell me. What is it you steal for?”

“Pardon me?” Scarlet looked up from her bloody task.

He smiled. “Most thieves are broken men, desperate to pay back debts or poisoned with greed. You, however, are a young girl who hardly looks broken.”

Scarlet went back to the deer. “Some thieves steal with a purpose outside of themselves.”

“Interesting.” He squatted down in front of her, only the deer separating them. His bright eyes bored into hers shamelessly, and warmth spread through Scarlet’s body. She quickly looked away.

“And what is yourpurpose?” he asked with a kind voice.

Scarlet paused and looked at him warily. Why was he speaking to her? Why did he care?

“Family,” she said simply.

The hunter spoke quietly. “Ah, the most noble of reasons.”

Guilt returned to her heart. What if he had a baby to feed? Or a sick wife? An elderly father? “Is this deer for your family?” She looked up at him.

He was silent for a long time as his eyes canvassed her appearance.

“No,” he finally said.

Standing up, he started walking away. “The deer is yours. I do hope you have the means to carry the creature by yourself.” He stopped and turned around. “And please be careful out here on your own.”

Scarlet raised a mocking eyebrow. “For fear of thieves?”

His eyes darkened. “There are worse things in the forest than thieves.” He turned back around and marched away, leaving his kill, and his warning, at Scarlet’s feet.

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