“I’m Elizabeth Fox, my friends call me Elizabeth, or Beth. And this is my horse, Braveheart,” Elizabeth patted her mare’s neck fondly.
At that time the black coated woman atop the steel grey mare, put her hand on her companion’s arm and said to him, “They are good luck names James. We could certainly use new blood in our party.”
By the way his face softened at her touch, it was immediately clear to Elizabeth that the pair were deeply in love. “Very well my dear, I completely believe what you say is true – and I agree.” James then turned to Elizabeth and said, “Ride with us if you dare, young Elizabeth, but be now warned. The hunt is dangerous, and can claim the unwary.” And with that statement the two black clothed members rode away.
Elizabeth frowned at the rude man’s tone. She didn’t enjoy people being rude or condescending to her. She was a very capable horsewoman in her own right and she knew she would have no problems keeping up with their hunt. The Master of the Hunt reached out to touch her as he claimed her attention again. “I am called Henry Edwards, my friends call me Henry. And I have the honor of leading this fine hunt this wonderful morn. My mount is called Stryker.” Henry held his hand out to her again. “Will you join us on our hunt today, Elizabeth?”
Her thoughts raced back to the rude mans question and with a defiant glance back toward James’ general direction, Elizabeth took Henry’s hand. “I’d be delighted to sir”. And with that agreement, the Master of the Hunt masterfully kissed her hand, much to Elizabeth’s delight. She blushed lightly thinking this must be exactly how women felt back in medieval times when knights saved their ladies from peril or doom. That was definitely not the kind of gesture, or response, she was expecting from him. She turned Braveheart back down the path in the direction of the others and slowly rode away with the new party.
Over the next half hour or so, the fog lightened as the party allowed the hounds to track the scent of their quarry. Elizabeth had never seen fox hounds that looked quite like this pack of nine. They were huge, much larger than any hounds she had ever witnessed prior, and pure white, except for their ears which were a deep chestnut red. When she asked Henry what breed of dog they were, he chuckled out loud. “They are a welsh breed, I doubt you will have ever heard of them, my dear, Elizabeth. They are quite rare, even in their own homeland, but superb hunters.”As he spoke, one of the hounds bayed in the distance, and with that the others quickly took off, following suit.
“They have picked up the scent, come, come, Elizabeth! Join us now.” And just like that the entire hunting party was on the chase, barreling after the hounds as they chased the scent trail of the “fox”. In this kind of weather, the woods Elizabeth thought she knew so well, looked terribly unfamiliar and strangely enchanted in a way she hadn’t ever noticed before. She wasn’t sure if it was the fog or something else all together, but all things on the hunt felt somewhat strange to her. It was very disconcerting for her, in fact.
Riding along with the others she saw the excited hounds pass under a large fallen tree which barred the path they were now on; she and Braveheart would have to jump over if they wanted to go past the downed obstacle. Braveheart took little urging to sail over the downed tree, as effortless as a frog hopping to a new lily pad. Suddenly, from further up the trail, Elizabeth heard an abrupt yelp of pain from one of the hounds, and immediately after that she heard Henry’s voice yelling, angrily, calling for the hunt to stop.
The entire hunting part stopped on a dime at Henry’s command. Elizabeth slowly urged her mare forward to see what had happened and the reason for the hunt’s immediate stop. When she caught up to the rest of the pack, she found Henry bent over one of the immense dogs, which was holding up a nasty looking, bloodied paw. Obviously injured from some unknown object out here in the field, the dogs injury to it’s paw was dreadful, but not life ending. But Henry was furious over it. Elizabeth dismounted her horse and called out to him. “Henry, what happened to the dogs leg? Is it going to be all right?”
“Cattle wire. It was cattle wire! I didn’t see it, and Deacon here ran straight into it.” He swore in a language she didn’t understand, though she guessed it might be Gaelic as he patiently cared for the dogs wound. “Ware the wire. Ware the wire!” He called out to the hunting party.
Horrified gasps echoed through the other riders at Henry’s call. Elizabeth frowned at their responses but also at the unforeseen wire out here in the field. She certainly hadn’t remembered ever seeing any cattle wire on her many rides through this area before but it’s arrival now worried her as anyone could be injured by the malicious barrier. She turned back to Braveheart to rummage through her saddle bags, and pulled out her emergency medical kit. She always trail rode with it, just in case she or Braveheart got scraped up, or worse.
“Here, will this be of any help?” She offered the kit to Henry, who was still knelt next to the injured dog, patting it lightly and trying to keep it as calm as possible.
“My thanks to you, Elizabeth, you have a very helpful and generous heart.” Henry opened the kit, took a second to look over the contents and then set about bandaging the dogs leg wound.
As Henry quickly patched up the hound using the supplies from her first aid kit, a lovely woman riding a dappled grey mare and wearing a brilliant green coat came walking up to Elizabeth. “The hound Deacon has been injured by the ir… err the wire?”
Henry nodded his head in answer to her question, not looking up one time from his ministrations to the dog’s wound. “Elizabeth has offered us the use of her healing kit, but obviously Deacon will not be able to run the rest of the hunt with us this day.”
The woman in the green coat looked back and offered a sunny smile to Elizabeth. “You are very kind, Miss. My name is Carolyn. So nice to meet you.” The woman held out her hand in greeting the newcomer to the hunting party. Elizabeth shook the woman’s hand, which, despite the cold, still felt warm, even through her glove. “The hunt can be dangerous, and can claim the unwary. Are you quite certain you wish to continue riding with us?”
Elizabeth laughed at the question. “I’m not easily dissuaded,” she answered. Carolyn laughed in return to Elizabeth’s response as she looked across to see how Henry was doing in tending the dog, Deacon’s, wound. “Neither was I once long ago. All right then, Victor and I shall take turns carrying the injured Deacon.”
With that statement Henry nodded, picked up the large animal without a moments pause, and carefully draped the big dog over Carolyn’s gorgeous dappled grey mare. Seeing Elizabeth’s incredulous expression, Carolyn again laughed. “The hounds are trained to ride with us, if they are injured. Have no fear, my dear.”
Carolyn rode back up the path with dog on board, to where a man also riding a dappled grey stallion, also wearing a green jacket, waited for her. Elizabeth blinked and did a double take at the sight. She hadn’t had a chance to meet the entire hunting party yet. Now she realized, not counting Henry and herself, that there were only six other people on the hunt. There were three men and three women, arranged in pairs, each riding matching mares and stallions in various shades of grey. Henry smiled as he noticed her staring at the hunting party.
“It is quite a pretty sight, is it not, Elizabeth? Only I am without a partner on our hunts,” said Henry. And with that he next gave Elizabeth a leg up back on to Braveheart. But as he did so, his hand lingered on her thigh for just a second too long after she had mounted. Elizabeth flushed at the intimate contact, an immediate surge of heat running through her at the handsome man’s touch. “Perhaps you might be the one to change that?” He said playfully with a wink and a smile as he headed back to his own mount to continue on their way.
Chapter 4
The weather maintained it’s foggy state, though it did lighten up a bit more as the day went on. So the hunting party continued on their way, with the hounds tracking the fox scent deeper into the forest. Soon the hounds baying picked up in intensity, and the chase was again on in full force. The party began to head down into a lonesome
valley, and the fog began to thicken once again.
“The quarry is headed for home Henry. We should have it soon.” James’s voice called over to where Henry and Elizabeth rode, just behind the hounds.
“Indeed.” Henry confirmed, agreeing with his comment.
The foggy air all around them began to fill with the fragrance of pine trees quite different from any she had yet to experience. Now Elizabeth was quite certain that they had moved past the area she was most familiar with. Braveheart seemed a bit disoriented in this new area too. What she could glimpse of the forest beyond the mist was full of feathery, fragrant pines. It was almost magical, yes, but also unfamiliar; there was very little snow on the ground here too, very different than the forest they had just hunted in.
“Where are we Henry? I don’t recognize this area at all.” Elizabeth asked feeling confused and a bit disoriented.
“Have no fear that we are lost, my lady. We are approaching my lands now. I know these paths well.” Henry answered her soothingly. He pointed to a section of the trail up ahead, where there were two trees that grew into each other, forming a natural archway. “That natural gate marks the beginning of my land.”
He turned, facing the archway, picked up speed on Stryker and cantered through the archway. Once he got to the other side he turned to watch for her and stopped. “The hunt is dangerous, and can claim the unwary.” Henry called to her from just past the pine archway. “Are you certain you wish to ride with me, Elizabeth Fox?” His outstretched hand beckoned her to join him, but the look on his athletic face was strangely foreboding.
Staring into the handsome face of the hunt master, Elizabeth felt a sudden overpowering desire to be at his side. “Yes, I am absolutely sure.” She answered quickly. She urged Braveheart to move forward, and then into a gallop. Just as she passed through the tree arch, an odd feeling swept through her that she had never experienced before. Braveheart shied at the new sensation too, suddenly frightened of what had happened. But before she could react to Braveheart’s fear, Elizabeth was thrown violently from the saddle, and hit the ground hard.
Everything went black in an instant. When Elizabeth woke she found herself curled up in Henry’s arms, riding atop Stryker. Her right arm hurt terribly, and was bound to her chest in a makeshift sling. “What happened?” Elizabeth asked Henry, “Where’s Braveheart? Is she ok?”
Henry’s voice was low and soothing in his reply to her. “Braveheart follows along right behind us; she has come to no harm. She shied as you both entered the gate on the West End of my property. You were thrown and broke your arm so I am taking you to my home, and the rest of the hunt will continue without us for a while.”
Elizabeth turned a bit, to see Braveheart tied to Stryker’s saddle, following the stallion patiently as they moved along. Elizabeth’s head still spun with each movement they made. Nausea came to her in waves as well and she fought to keep herself under control. Finally she decided to give in to the pain and she leaned back against Henry’s warm, firm form. “Ahn oon? Where is tha… wow.” At that very moment a beautiful manor rose up out of the fog before them, looking exactly like a home that belonged in a Thomas Kinkade painting.
“I would like to welcome you to my home, Elizabeth Fox, “said Henry. A young man came up out of the stables to retrieve the horses as Henry dismounted Stryker. “Edward, take Stryker and Braveheart to the stables. Get them cooled down and fed, while I see to the young lady’s injury.” Henry gently helped Elizabeth off of his mount, and then slipped her into his arms. He effortlessly carried her into the manor, which gleamed with rich woodwork and smelled of fine cigars and wines. He took her towards the back of the home, into a huge bedchamber which gave off a warmth she would have never expected on such a cold day.
Sitting her down slowly on a massive four post bed he carefully removed her boots, helmet, and coat, being extra careful not to move the injured arm any more than absolutely necessary. “Make yourself comfortable, Elizabeth. I will return shortly.” And with that statement Henry walked out of the room, already removing his scarlet hunt coat and gloves as he moved down the hallway at a brisk pace.
There was simply so much to look at Elizabeth almost forgot about her injury – that is until she reached for an object on the table next to the bed and was instantly reminded. So Elizabeth sat back on the soft bed with a sigh and cradled her arm closely to her body. Her arm still hurt terribly, and her head was beginning to pound. Even with the helmet on, she must have hit the ground pretty hard. She closed her eyes, hoping that might help ease the oncoming headache and the nauseous waves that tempted to flood the gates at any moment.
What a morning she’d had. Never in a million years would Elizabeth have imagined that she would now be lying in the bed of a stunningly handsome man, in his palatial home. “I’m lying here with a broken arm, nausea and a huge headache. Yes, very romantic, Elizabeth. I’m sure I’ve just swept him away with all my charms.” She muttered darkly to herself.
“Something quite like that,” Henry’s voice and masculine chuckle from the doorway made her immediately flush with embarrassment at her previous statement. He carried a silver chalice in one hand, and a platter filled with tiny finger sandwiches in another. “Here, drink this first.” He handed Elizabeth the cup, which contained a shining, honey colored liquid. She drank hungrily and had forgotten the last time she had had anything to drink this morning. Her parched throat accepted the drink heartily.
When she drank a bit of the liquid, her mouth seemed almost to explode with a sweet, fruity taste. Mmmmmm, she thought to herself. Instantly her headache began to ebb, as did the nausea and the constant ache in her arm. “That’s amazing!” Elizabeth said delighted. She swiftly emptied the contents of the cup and handed it back to him hoping for more. Henry sat next to her on the bed smiling, and began feeding her the sandwiches. They, too, tasted marvelous, a deeply spiced meaty flavor that she had never experienced before either.
Once she had finished all the food and drink, Henry set the platter and cup down on the table next to the large bed. Then turning back to her he gently undid the sling covering her broken arm. Pushing up the sleeve of her sweater, he gently checked her wound. The touch of his fingers on her bare skin immediately distracted Elizabeth from any pain his tender ministrations might have ever caused. Knowing this might be her only chance, Elizabeth leaned in to the handsome Master of the Hunt and stole a kiss.
Completely unexpected, the kiss exploded into passion between the two, and, using her good arm, Elizabeth pulled Henry closer to her as she lay down on the bed. Henry broke the kiss momentarily to look deep into her eyes. “So be it,” he murmured into her ear. “There is no turning back now my sweet.” So carefully and passionately, Henry then made Elizabeth his.
Chapter 5
After their lovemaking was over, Elizabeth fell into a deep, dreamless slumber. Hours later when she awoke, the room was awash in the rosy pink and orange of dusk. Henry was nowhere to be seen in the large bedchamber, but a deep red rose lay on the bed next to her. A note was tied to it.
Elizabeth went to grab the rose, and suddenly realized with a start, that her broken arm no longer hurt. In fact, it clearly was no longer broken. “That’s not… possible.” She said wonderingly to herself. Opening the note, Elizabeth read Henry’s message, written in the beautiful handwritten style of a well educated man of years long past.
“Beloved lady, dress in the clothes I have provided you here and meet us all out in the yard when you awake. All will be explained at that time. Henry”
Elizabeth looked around the darkened room and saw a beautiful riding habit in tones of scarlet red and embossed with golden thread draped across a chair on the other side of the bed. She got up, stretched a bit and went to further inspect what was there. To her astonishment she also found a beautiful pair of black kid skin boots which stood next to the clothes as well.
Elizabeth did as she was instructed in the note, and put on the new clothes. Amazing! Everything fit ex
actly as if it had been tailored expressly for her by hand. But how could that be? Once dressed she went walking through the immense house looking for Henry – or for anyone at that point. For some reason it was empty – then she heard sounds coming from outside.
She headed out through the front door, to see the hunting party waiting there for her. There the group was arranged in a semi-circle, with the darkest horses on the left, and the lightest ones on the right. All of the ladies were dressed in clothing similar to hers, while the men wore gleaming suits of armor. And all of the party carried bows, with a quiver of arrows slung across their backs. The nine giant white and red hounds had placed themselves evenly between each one of the riders.
At that instant a sound from the stables drew her attention. Henry was mounted on Stryker, riding toward her and the group, dressed in ornate yet light looking armor, a sword by his side, and a bow on his back. He led a mare the same color as his own stallion, the deep grey of a thunderstorm. With a start, Elizabeth immediately realized some how, that the dark colored mare she now was looking at, was her once white Braveheart.
When he reached the others he entered the semi-circle and the entire party bowed to him. “I am Henry Edwards, Lord and Master of the Wild Hunt.” Henry’s commanding voice boomed out across the yard.
“On this very magical day I claim Elizabeth Fox as a member of the Hunt. I am hers, and she is mine. From this day on until the last day, she shall ride at my side as we carry out the duties of the Hunt.” Henry looked directly into Elizabeth’s eyes. “You have ridden with the hunt, refusing three times to be dissuaded. You slept beneath the roof of the Hunt Master, and have given yourself willingly to me. You have eaten and drank of the ambrosia of immortality. You may not return to the mortal lands to live as you once did. Yet still you may choose your own path. I have given you immortality. It is up to you, my fair Elizabeth, to choose if you wish spend it by my side, or not.”
The Master of the Hunt: A Paranormal Romance Page 2
