Free The Sacred Hunt Duology by Michelle West

very like Norn at this moment. She couldn’t explain her prayer, but felt that it wasn’t necessary; she could see his worry, and a little of his understanding, at play around his eyes.
    Stephen faced her squarely. “They’re late this time, aren’t they?” He held out a hand; it was still fine and slim. Growth wouldn’t change this.
    She wondered if he did so because he had seen Norn make a similar offer on many occasions. And she didn’t care. Holding the heavy mat awkwardly in one hand, she accepted his solace with the other, gripping just a little too tightly.
    â€œNot very late. The roads are poor.”
    Stephen nodded encouragingly, and she didn’t speak again. They both knew that she was lying. But he held her hand as she walked. He understood fear and loss very well.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    The Hunter God was kind, this season, to Lady Elseth.
    Norn and Soredon returned in a ten-day, worn by the rigors of the Hunt and the journey by road. They came by horse toward the darkness of the turning, and the manor house flared to life at their approach.
    Soredon dismounted and barely had time to place his feet upon the ground before he was nearly swept off them by his Lady’s embrace. He returned it, hugging her tightly and burying the length of his face in her neck. Not even Maribelle sought to disturb their reunion—although it was more due to Boredan’s heavy glare than her own consideration.
    â€œGil, the dogs,” Soredon said, glancing up over his wife’s shoulder. Gilliam nodded immediately and went to Corwel’s leash; the care of the dogs after the Hunt was something not lightly entrusted to anyone. That the dogs were not his father’s very first consideration worried him.
    â€œYou were late,” Elsabet said, when she at last drew back.
    He nodded heavily. “I’m sorry to worry you, Elsa. But we had the duty to perform.” He watched her grow still.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œBryan.” He shook himself. “We’re called to Valentin in haste. We must leave in the morning.”
    Norn joined them, looking just as weary as his Lord. This was only the second time in their long years of hunting that they had been called upon to guard the dead on the road with full honors.
    â€œHow is Lord William?”
    â€œShattered.” Norn hadn’t the strength to be diplomatic, nor, surrounded only by his Lady and her Lord, the need for it. He rested his head against the side of Soredon’s horse before the servants came to stable it.
    Soredon gripped his shoulder tightly. “Norn?”
    â€œFine.”
    â€œHave you eaten?”
    â€œSome. Not much.”
    It was always this way—the joy of a safe return was marred by the shadow of another woman’s loss. Lady Elseth nodded quietly to Boredan, who disappeared back into the house. “When the boys return from the kennels, I’ll tell them.”
    All of the Hunter-sworn within a four-day’s travel were honor-bound to make the trek to the Valentin estates. Lady Elseth, well aware of her own responsibilities at such a time, oversaw the wardrobe for all four of her men, although Norn was quite capable of dressing for ceremony on his own.
    She, too, was well prepared for such an emergency, and left Boredan in charge of the house and Maribelle, who was very much put out at being left behind.
    One day
, Elsabet thought, as she hugged her stiff, rebellious child,
you will be glad of the times you were spared this.
She bade her daughter be good, which didn’t help, and then mounted to her seat in the carriage she would share with Stephen and Gilliam.
    They knew well why they were going, and all of their arguments or enthusiasms were as subdued as their clothing. Bryan of Valentin had been huntbrother to Lord William, heir to the Valentin Duty. It was he, this year, who had faced the Hunter’s Death, and paid the Hunter’s Price. No Hunter, or