Huntsmen and Hoods

by Laura Greenwood

  We're almost free of the fire circle when Peter appears in front of us, his expression like thunder as he glares at me.

  I hold my head up high, even though I feel like cowering instead. I can't let him see how much he gets to me. And, perhaps more importantly, I can't let the others see it.

  His eyes narrow, but he doesn't say anything as we walk past.

  "It's that one," Kit says. "Second from the left." He points towards the cabin that will be mine.

  "Which one is yours?" The question is out before I think it through. But I don't think it's a bad one. Surely it's acceptable to know where my Huntsman partner lives?

  "The one next to it," he says.

  The front of the cabin is exactly like I expect it to be. Three small wooden steps lead up to a door with a heavy lock. Kit hands me a key, and I slip it in before clicking it open.

  We step inside. There isn't much here, but it's nice enough. A low cot sits against the back wall, and there's a small table with two chairs in the centre of the other wall, as well as some space for storage. I'm not too worried about the size of it all. I don't have very many possessions back at the castle, and there's plenty of room for them here.

  Kit watches me with an intent expression as I study the rest of the room. It's like he's getting to know me better by studying my reaction. Though I'm not sure how that works, it does remind me of something I wanted to ask him.

  "Christopher?" I blurt once we're inside and I'm sure there's no one else around. It's been playing on my mind since the ceremony, but I didn't want to ask about it in front of everyone else. That seems like it would be rude.

  Kit shrugs. "You're not the only one who doesn't like their full name."

  "I prefer Kit too," I admit. "It suits you better."

  "I'm glad you feel that way," he murmurs, making me realise how close together we're standing.

  I clear my throat and take a step back, looking around the cabin I'm now going to call home. It's smaller than the room I've been staying in back at the castle, but I don't have to share it, which makes up for that.

  "Does everyone get a space like this?" I ask, changing the subject to something far less intimate.

  "No. We share. You're on your own because you're the only female Huntsman. If there were more, then you'd be sharing with one of them.

  "There'll be more in the future."

  He chuckles. "Are you going to go around convincing young girls they want adventure instead of frilly dresses?" he teases.

  "Yes."

  "Oh." He's taken aback by my response, but that's all right. I can understand why it's so strange to him.

  "I grew up hearing stories of Goldilocks, the first female Huntsman. She made me want to become one more than anything," I admit.

  "Ah. You want to be a role model."

  "Kind of. I guess." It's hard to think about it like that, but in a way, he's right. That is what I want.

  "I can imagine it. You'll be an inspiration to young women throughout the kingdoms." There isn't even a hint of mockery in his words, which I appreciate. A lot of men his age wouldn't like the idea of a woman coming along and doing their job.

  If I'm honest, I'm surprised I haven't run into more problems with the other Huntsmen.

  "There's something I need to ask you," Kit says, indecision warring on his face. "But I'm afraid it will cross a line."

  I cock my head to the side. "What is it?"

  "What's the deal between you and Peter? He's been acting strange since you got here. Even more aggressive than normal. Don't get me wrong, he's not a nice guy at the best of times, but something about you seems to wind him up. And that first day, he already knew your name..."

  Ah. I should have seen this coming. I'm actually surprised he hasn't asked me sooner.

  A loud sigh escapes me and I move over to the small cot, dropping myself onto it. The mattress is surprisingly comfortable. I'm not sure why I thought it wouldn't be. Just because the Huntsmen are expected to be able to camp in the woods, it doesn't mean they can't have nice surroundings when they don't have to.

  "That bad?" Kit raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything else. Instead, he grabs one of the chairs tucked under a small table covered in items, and sits on it.

  "I thought he was special, once," I admit, not seeing the point in keeping it from Kit. He's my partner, and I need him to trust me to have his back. If that involves sharing secrets about myself, then so be it. He already knows more than most.

  "Special as in..."

  "He promised me he'd ask Father's permission to marry me. I don't know if he did and Father said no, or if he never actually asked. Things went...bad. I'm not completely sure what happened. But one day, I went to meet him in our spot, and found him with a girl named Jill instead. I broke things off after that, and he wasn't best pleased." I resist the urge to wring my hands. It isn't my fault that things went wrong with Peter. I shouldn't be afraid of having a past.

  "Ah." Kit leans back in his chair. "That explains a lot."

  "It does?" To me, it seems a flimsy explanation at best, but I don't want to go into more details about our courtship. It wasn't a good time for me, and made me feel as if I was worth less than I am. If I dive back into it now, then perhaps I'll start feeling like that again. No matter what, I can't let that happen.

  "I suppose not. But it does explain why the two of you seem so wary of one another."

  I nod. "I didn't expect him to be here. I told him about my dreams of being a Huntsman, but he said he wanted to work as an advisor. It's a surprise to find him somewhere like this. He never seemed to like the outside much."

  "He still doesn't," Kit admits. "Everyone hates having to go do survival training with him because he's so useless."

  Despite the seriousness of the conversation, a small chuckle escapes me. "Sometimes, it's reassuring to know people don't change."

  "I know what you mean," Kit admits. "Don't worry about him having any influence on the others. He doesn't have any. And most of them are more swayed by actions than words."

  "Let's hope I can impress them, then."

  "You already are, Red. And most of them aren't even surprised. Not since you turned back up and took your test."

  A slow smile spreads across my face as satisfaction wells up through me.

  "Old Harold raved about your bow for three hours after you'd gone back to the castle. You impressed him with that one."

  "I did?" I hadn't gotten much in the way of a reaction from the older man who spent my test day watching me. But apparently I'd still managed to impress him. That's a good sign for my future career here.

  Kit nods. "He's not an easy man to impress either. Especially not when it comes to weapons. I've seen him send someone to clean the entire armoury because of a dull knife before."

  "Oh." I let that sink in for a moment. It's strange to think I'm making an impression already. I thought it would take longer before I was accepted here. I hope it continues. The last thing I want is to lose all the momentum I've been building up among the other Huntsmen.

  "You need to stop worrying," Kit says. "And before you tell me you aren't, I can see it on your face. The others are impressed with you, it's going to carry on that way. You're strong, smart, and capable. You don't need anything else to succeed here."

  "I hope you're right," I murmur under my breath.

  "I am," he assures me. "This time. Not always. I can't claim that or Mother will travel all the way to Grimm to scold me for lying."

  A small laugh escapes me at the image. "How would she even know?"

  He shrugs. "I have no idea. But I do know that she would. I've never gotten away with anything in my life."

  "She sounds wonderful." There's so much affection in his voice that it's impossible not to think about the world of a woman I've never met.

  "She must be. She raised me."

  I chuckle and shake my head. "Somehow, I think that would count against her." It surprises me how easy it is to tease him. And that h
e'll happily sit there and take it. It takes a certain kind of man to do that.

  "Perhaps. You can ask her about that when you meet her."

  My heart skips a beat. He thinks I'll meet his Mother? That's a good thing, right? No. Wait. It isn't. We're not courting, and we shouldn't start. Meeting his Mother seems like a very serious step for two people who are just friends.

  Not that I say any of that out loud. Mostly because there's a small part of me that doesn't want to say definitely not to these things. I'm not sure I have a word for how I feel about Kit. Maybe I will after training with him some more. Time will tell on that front.

  For now, I'm content to have someone I enjoy spending time with around.

  Chapter Seven

  I mop the stew up from the bottom of my bowl with a hunk of bread, then eat it eagerly. It may not be fancy, but the food in camp is always delicious.

  "You're not missing the food from the castle, then?" Kit asks as he sets aside his own bowl.

  "Definitely not," I assure him. "It was good and everything, but it was always too complicated. It made me feel like I was eating art instead of food."

  "That sounds kind of fun."

  "Not when it was too rich for me too." I place a hand over my stomach at the memory. The first night, I'd eaten far too much of it and ended up making myself sick. I was actually glad to be back on something as simple as the stew in the Huntsmen camp.

  "Ah, I guess if you aren't used to it, then it won't sit well."

  I frown, realising I have no idea what kind of background Kit comes from.

  "Are you used to food like that?" I ask, not wanting to outright say what I'm thinking. I don't think Kit will get offended. He isn't that kind of person. But it still feels rude, and I don't want to be that.

  He shakes his head. "I was lucky enough to be apprenticed to a Duke's son as a squire when I was younger, so had the occasional meal like they serve at the castle. But normally it was meals like this one for me."

  "You were a squire?" It surprises me he hasn't gone on to become a knight in that case.

  "For three years. But the Duke's son died, and I was out of a job. That was when I decided the Huntsmen was the way for me to go. I didn't think anyone would take on a squire like me. The Duke I worked for was a unique man. He didn't care about station when it came to positions like that. He believed in merit. My family are merchants, and wealthy enough to have a comfortable life, but not titled. It puts a lot of people off hiring me."

  "So you came to Grimm?"

  He nods. "It wasn't easy to get a place. I'm sure you know that they prefer people who have prophecies..."

  I nod, hoping it covers up the small gulp as I try to swallow my nerves. I'm sure he's worked out I have a prophecy. Grimm doesn't offer scholarships to anyone without one, and I've already admitted to him several times that my family has no money at all. But he's graciously not mentioned it, for which I'm glad. It's yet more proof he's a good man.

  "It's just as hard for people who are paying to get in. I think the only reason I did was because Father could get the Headmistress a delicacy from one of the Northern kingdoms that she can't normally get."

  I raise an eyebrow. "Are you saying he bribed the Headmistress to let you in?" I think of the stern woman I met during orientation here, and try to imagine her being blackmailed. Unsurprisingly, the pieces don't fit. She doesn't seem like the kind of woman who can be swayed by anything as insubstantial as a delicacy.

  "I wouldn't say it was bribery. More, a chance for mutual benefit."

  I snort. "Call it what you want, but a pile of horse dung still smells," I counter.

  Kit starts to laugh, a rich sound which fills me with a deep satisfaction. "That's one way of putting it."

  "It's something I heard Father say once. It held a lot of truth, and stuck with me."

  "You should watch your language," a voice from behind us says.

  I'm on my feet in seconds, ready to square off against Peter if I have to.

  "I don't have to do anything while I'm having a private conversation," I counter.

  My whole body quakes, but I think I manage to keep it under control. The last thing I want is for Peter to realise how much he gets to me.

  "No one invited you here," Kit says to him.

  Peter shrugs. "I have more business being here than some people." He shoots me a look, as if he thinks we won't get the not-so-subtle undertones in his voice.

  "Red has proved herself over and over again the past few weeks," Kit says, pride coming through every word.

  I reach out a hand and place it on his arm, trying to rein him in. While I appreciate him standing up for me, this is something I have to do for myself. He'd understand if I'd told him more about what my courtship with Peter was like.

  "Oh look, he's defending you. How sweet," Peter sneers.

  "It's not sweet. It's called being a decent person. You should try it sometime," I snap.

  His expression darkens. I'm not foolish enough to think my words have made a difference. It's simply that he doesn't like being told what's what by a woman. If he carries on the way he is doing, then it'll happen again too. I don't have to put up with his rubbish any longer.

  "And you should try being an actual lady. No one is going to want to marry someone who talks the way you do. It's too crass."

  I shrug. "If no one wants to marry me, then that's fine. My worth isn't determined by what someone else thinks." As every moment passes, I start to feel more in control of the situation. Peter is part of my past, and there's nothing I can do about it. But that doesn't mean he has any say over my future.

  "You'll change your mind when you're an old maid and no one loves you," he shoots at me.

  I raise an eyebrow, but don't say anything else.

  Instead, I turn around and sit back down in my seat. I stare into the fire, concentrating on how each of the flames dances with the others. I'm not actually interested in them, and the beauty of it hardly registers. But I know that if I have something to concentrate on, then I won't start to cry. I'm not weak. I don't need Peter to see that.

  Kit sits down next to me again, but doesn't say a word. He seems to have judged the situation right. I see why the Duke gave him a chance as a squire. He's smart by most definitions, but his intuition about different situations is what really sets him above others.

  It only takes a moment for Peter to get bored and walk away.

  I let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry about that."

  "Don't be," Kit responds. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You can't control anyone. Especially not someone like Peter."

  I sigh dramatically, letting out all my frustrations with my former sweetheart. "I can't help it. He gets to me."

  "He gets to everyone," Kit assures me. "And we all know what kind of man he is. But we also know what kind of woman you are. Trust me when I say most of the Huntsmen would come to stand by your side rather than his. It's one of the reasons he's trying to get a rise out of you. He doesn't like the fact you've made more of an impression than he has."

  A soft snort escapes me. "I doubt that's true. He hates me because of how things ended with us. He doesn't like that I didn't fall into line with him when he wanted me to, even if he's the one who betrayed me."

  It's hard to think about it like that. I thought I'd put it all behind me. And I suppose I have. It's just being dragged up by the other party.

  "Let's not talk about this," I say. "He isn't worth our breath."

  "True. Did you have a potential topic of conversation in mind?"

  I think for a moment, trying to come up with something that'll take him by surprise. "What's your favourite kind of pudding?" I ask.

  "Hmm. That's a hard one. Are we talking simple pudding we're likely to have here, or one from the kitchens up at the castle?" He taps a finger against his chin, taking my question more seriously than he should.

  "Either," I say, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice.

  Within minutes of Peter
's departure, Kit has managed to make me feel better. I'm glad I get to spend more time with him.

  "Rice pudding," he says firmly. "With jam."

  "Interesting choice."

  "Not your favourite?" His own amusement shines through. It's nice to have a conversation that doesn't mean anything to anyone but us.

  "I think rice should be for savoury dishes. It doesn't belong in pudding." I curl up my lip at the thought. Definitely not my favourite. Very, very, far from it.

  "So what is?"

  "Hmm. That's a hard one. Bread pudding, maybe? I've only ever had it at the castle, but it was delicious."

  He nods. "It really is. I wouldn't mind going up to the castle some time to have a portion."

  "Can we do that?" For some reason, I made the assumption that once I came to live in the Huntsmen's camp, I was no longer allowed to take my meals up in the main castle. Clearly I'm wrong.

  "No idea, really," Kit answers. "No one really does it. But we're still students, right? That must mean that we're still allowed up into the castle for meals."

  "Ah. I forgot about that."

  "You forgot you were a student?" he teases.

  "Kind of. I didn't do much going to lessons in the week before I joined you here. It was mostly just a whole week of us all being shown around and helped to adjust."

  "Ah. Because of your scholarship."

  "How..."

  "It's not difficult to work out," he says. "But don't worry, I don't think anyone else has figured it out. They don't know the same things I do."

  "Except for Peter," I whisper.

  "Hmm. Not ideal. But I haven't heard anything that suggests he's talking about your past."

  "That's something at least." A chill sneaks down my spine. I hate the idea of Peter knowing things about me that could destroy my reputation here.

  "Don't worry, none of the others will care. And if Peter does say anything, I'll challenge him to a duel at dawn for your honour."