“Hand him up, Sam,” Emily said, and leaned over from up on Patra to take the one-year-old.
“He sure loves riding Patra with you,” Sam said, looking up at Emily and the toddler as she sat him in front of her.
She situated herself so she had a secure hold on the reins in one hand, and the one-year-old in the other, “I hope so. I'm going to break that horse soon and I'll give him to Allen.”
“Chevalier doesn't want you breaking him. He said he's too mean and wants to hire a professional,” Sam said, and then grinned. He knew what saying that would do to her.
“He said what?” Emily raised an eyebrow.
Sam nodded, “Asked me to find someone to come break him.”
Emily glared, “Seriously? Sam, don't do it, that's an order. I'll break him myself.” She clicked her tongue and Patra broke into a trot out into the pasture.
Allen looked around as they rode through the cattle, his wide green eyes catching every movement and wondering at the noises around him. He and Emily were out every day looking over the ever expanding herd of cattle. Emily pointed out things to him like the different breeds they had and the types of feed and grain to use.
She enjoyed her time out away from dreary castle life. Chevalier was working long hours again and was getting ready for another mission. Kyle had taken his position back as head of the guard and Emily was finally left to fend for herself, something which she cherished every day.
Emily pulled Patra to a stop and looked over at some cattle to the west of her. They were starting to get jumpy, and a few were running quickly toward the east. She frowned and turned Patra to investigate, kicking the mare into a gallop. Allen laughed as the wind swept through his black hair.
Stopping the horse where the cattle had come from, she listened carefully and heard nothing out of the ordinary. There was a storm coming, so the ocean beat rhythmically against the cement wall by the beach and the wind was blowing noisily through the evergreen trees.
“Hear anything?” Emily asked, smiling down at Allen, and he shook his head with a grin.
Allen had his father's grin and Emily's temper. He loved being outdoors and hated nothing more than any kind of confinement or restriction.
“I don't either,” she said, and carefully looked back across the tree line. She pulled the rifle out from the saddle pack and held it up, using the scope to get a closer look through the trees.
“No, no,” Allen said, reaching up for the rifle.
Emily slipped it back into the saddle pack, “I know Daddy says no gun, but Mommy says yes.”
“No, no,” he said, again frowning.
“Shhhh,” Emily whispered to him as she caught a strange hiss on the wind. Her eyes scanned the trees again, slower this time. She squinted when she saw a shadow move and immediately grabbed the rifle again.
Leveling it toward the shadow, she squinted through the scope and caught a brief glimpse of someone stooped over with his arms dragging along the ground. She slipped the gun into her pack and kicked Patra into a fast gallop back to the barn.
“You're back early,” Sam said, coming out to greet her.
“Take Allen,” she said, and then handed the now screaming toddler down to Sam.
Sam knew better than to ask what she was doing. He took Allen and promised him a ride later to calm him down. Allen and Emily were rarely apart, and when they were, Allen became stubborn and defiant.
Emily kicked Patra back into a gallop and returned to the spot in the pasture closest to the dark figure she'd seen in the trees. She pulled the rifle out again and chambered a bullet, then slid off of the mare. She lowered the brim of her hat a bit to shade her eyes better from the sun, and slipped a gloved finger around the trigger.
“Who's in there?” she yelled into the trees.
When no one answered, she walked slowly forward toward the spot she had seen the stooped figure. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of decay and jumped when she heard a sound behind her.
She turned to face what she thought must be a heku, one that was old and wrinkled. He was stooped so low that his vertebrae stuck out against the skin on his back. He was smiling at her with rotten teeth and his claw like hands were curled into fists.
“Hello, Child,” he said, taking a step to the side. Emily could tell he meant to circle around her and block her way out of the woods.
“Stand still, I'm warning you,” she said, and lowered the rifle. She didn't plan on using it against this being, she had better weapons.
“No guns, Child, no guns. I don't want to hurt you.” His voice was cracked and uneven.
“I don't need a gun to fight you. Who are you?” she asked.
“Mmm smells good, she does,” the heku said, running his cracked tongue along the shattered teeth in his mouth.
“I asked who you are.” Emily's eyes narrowed.
“I have many names, pretty one.” His eyes scanned down her body, and then back up to her neck.
She knew that, historically, each heku had many names, “Ok, then what are you doing here?”
“I live here, young one,” he said, meeting her eyes for a moment before they dropped back to the vein in her neck.
“You aren't going to feed from me, so I suggest you stop the savoring crap and explain yourself.” She held her voice calm, but her hands were shaking.
H