Heir to the Empire

45. The Elf and the Hunter

The pungent smell of horse manure pushed its way through to Ethelston's nostrils, but as he disembarked his steed, all thoughts of the stench appeared irrelevant. Brushing the side of the horse's black coat, the recently completed hunt with the other Ravenscourt nobles had nearly all been forgotten. As his eyes swept over towards the dirty working horse further down the courtyard, he couldn't help but feel devastation, as it's once white coat, was now a deep mahogany red.

The horse seemed disturbed and on edge by the two boys tasked with cleaning it. The stable boys were trying hard to keep it steady, but with every attempt to control the situation, it seemed only to cause the horse to flinch in anxiety.

Ethelston patted his horse on its side before walking calmly to the white horse; it's dark glistening eyes focusing on the new threat edging towards it.

Raising his hand calmly, Ethelston placed it on the horse's nose, stroking it carefully, encouraging the stable boys to take a step back and watch.

Almost instantly, the horse appeared to calm, lowering its head slightly to allow the Manticore Hunter to rub his hand through its hair. As Ethelston gained its confidence, the horse became more relaxed, easing itself into Ethelston's comfort.

Ethelston felt heartbroken. One side of the horse was covered in elven blood, yet the horse appeared oblivious to it. If there had not been a hunt that he had to attend, Ethelston would not have left Erdudvyl's side all night. There was so much blood, and the physician had repeated his words to Ethelston that she may not last the night. Leaving for the hunt early in the morning had left Ethelston with the burning question on whether he would see her alive once more.

"Thank you for bringing her back to me," Ethelston whispered to the horse's ear, watching it flick as if it was an acknowledgement.

As he took a step back, watching it closely, all thoughts of duty would be forgotten; he needed to know the fate of the woman that inhabited his thoughts.

"Boys, look after this horse well. It's a working horse, so go easy. It will not be used to the sights, sounds and procedures of a castle." Ethelston ordered.

As both boys acknowledged and bowed, Ethelston briskly walked towards the keep, eager to find out the latest news.

Never before had he walked so hastily through the halls of Ravenscourt. Each step was forceful and with purpose, and as he reached the room where Erdudvyl lay, the physician exited the room flanked by the intimidating figure of Aryya.

The physician bowed immediately on seeing the concerned Ethelston. "My Lord."

"Report?" Ethelston responded abruptly.

The physician looked exhausted from hours with Erdudvyl, but his exhaustion did not display concern, instead surprise. "I had anticipated to give you news of a more concerning nature, but instead, I find I am giving you information of surprise and hope. By all means, with the amount of blood she has lost, she should be dead. Not only is she alive, but her wound is healing surprisingly well. Quite frankly, it's a miracle."

Ethelston immediately looked away, he exhaled extensively, and his face glowed with delight. Composing himself, he turned back towards the physician, "Is she able to talk?"

"Yes, my Lord. Though I recommend that she remains bedridden. Her wound is by no means healed and could easily rupture. There is no sign of infection, but she is exceedingly tired. I would suggest you keep your time with her brief for her to recover properly." the physician explained.

"Thank you. Aryya, a word if you may?"

The physician took his leave, allowing Aryya to turn towards the relieved Duke, who was struggling to contain his smile.