The Master of the Hunt: A Paranormal Romance (2 page)

The source of these new sounds were simply way too far away for the sounds to be coming from the stable area. But the sounds didn’t seem to really be coming from that direction in the first place – the weather can play tricks on you in situations like this so she really wasn’t absolutely certain where the sounds were coming from. And that concerned her just a bit. Another group of riders must be braving the foggy trails this morning. Who would be out in force this time of the day and in such awful riding conditions? Then she clearly heard it – the clarion blare of a hunting horn, followed by the soulful baying of a large pack of hounds.

Elizabeth chuckled to herself and nervously combed Braveheart’s mane with her fingers as she stood there listening to the approaching sound of the hunting party. She had forgotten that a fox hunting club had asked for permission to use the land next to her property for a hunt. They didn’t actually hunt living foxes – instead they had a “drag hunt” – where the club laid out a scent trail for the hounds and horses to follow well in advance of the actual day of the event. This way you could have all the fun and excitement of a hunt, without all the animal rights issues. She had thought the hunt was going to take place next weekend; obviously she must have gotten the dates mixed up somehow.

At this point the details of the hunt she had forgotten previously somehow didn’t really matter. So Elizabeth waited a few minutes, listened carefully for the group to figure out their location, remounted her horse, and then moved to the side of the path, very cautious of what could happen if she were not paying complete attention. She didn’t want the hunters and hounds blundering into her by accident.

“Ware the hunt!” She called out in her loudest voice. “Rider on your path. Ware the hunt!” she repeated just to be sure she was heard!

Listening carefully still, she could vaguely hear the warning being passed back amongst the members of the hunting party that was steadily approaching her. Soon enough, Elizabeth saw the fog part, and the Master of the Hunt came riding towards her at a brisk trot. His bright red jacket was beautiful as it appeared so brilliantly in contrast against the white snow, white fog and brown tree bark all around him. There would be no missing him in that outfit in this circumstance. He rode atop a blue roan so dark the horse was the color of a turbulent and fiery thunderstorm.

Chapter 3

“Hold. Hold!” He yelled to no one in particular that she could see, and despite the fact that she could still not actually see the other riders, she could hear each one of them come to a complete stop. The Master of the Hunt urged his horse on up next to Braveheart and Elizabeth.

When he was close enough, Elizabeth’s breath nearly caught in her throat. The Master of the Hunt was devastatingly handsome, with powerful aristocratic features, a muscular build and immaculately dressed with no imperfections of any kind despite the strenuous activity of the sport they were undertaking. Something about his incredible good looks screamed barbarian or warrior to her; as if he ought to be wearing armor or some kind, rather than his handsome scarlet coat.

“Good morning, my lady. Have you come to join our hunt?” he asked her politely.

Elizabeth’s denial instantly became stuck in her throat. His to-the-point demeanor immediately caught her off guard. His presence, incredible good looks and concise question were just a bit too much to take in all at one time. When she’d heard a hunt club was due to come through the area a few days ago, the thought had occurred to her see if she could get an invitation. However one thing led to another, you know how it is, and she had never followed through on that thought. Still, her intention had only been to take a leisurely trail ride this morning, not to engage in the rigors of a full fledged fox hunt.

“Henry, what is the hold up here? Why are we stopping?” Another rider from the hunting party in an ornately decorated black coat brought his steel grey mount forward to where they now stood, and slowly looked Elizabeth up and down. He was followed by a woman, whose mount, and clothing, matched his own, complete to the silver thread embroidery seen on each jacket.

The Master of the Hunt instantly pinned the newcomer with a stare that Elizabeth was glad she was not on the receiving end of. “I have found a possible addition to our hunting party, James. You will mind your manners with the lady,” he said matter of factly to the newcomer. The huntsman turned his gaze to the impolite newcomer first, then back to Elizabeth. “I can easily see the desire you have to ride the hunt with us in your eyes, my dear. What is your name, and that of your mount?”

“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.