The Scepter's Return Read Free

he’d hit a stag altogether without intending to.
    â€œVenison. Boar. Even squirrel.” Ortalis sounded enthusiastic enough for himself and Lanius at the same time. Grus’ legitimate son liked the meat the hunt brought in. He also liked killing the meat in the hunt. He liked killing very much. If he killed animals, he didn’t need the thrill of hurting—or killing—people so much.
    Of course, Bubulcus was still dead. Lanius’ obstreperous servant had outrageously insulted Ortalis. People often thought outrageous insults reason enough to kill a man. And it did seem that Ortalis had killed in a fit of fury, not for the sport of it. All the same, he remained far too fond of blood for Lanius’ taste.
    The woods that served as a royal game preserve were a couple of hours’ ride outside the city of Avornis. The hunting party hadn’t gone a quarter of that distance before Lanius took a deep breath and said, “By the gods, it’s good to get away from the capital for a while.”
    Anser and Ortalis both nodded. So did the guards and beaters. Anser said, “The clean air would be reason enough to come hunting even without the chase.”
    â€œAlmost reason enough,” Ortalis said.
    When they got to the woods, the new leaves uncurling from their buds were a brighter, lighter green than they would be once they’d been out for a while. Lanius pointed to them. “That’s the color of spring,” he said.
    â€œYou’re right,” Ortalis said. They nodded to each other. In the palace, they didn’t get on well. That wasn’t just because of Ortalis’ streak of bloodlust, either. Grus’ legitimate son wanted to be King of Avornis himself one day, and to have the crown pass to his sons and not Lanius’. At the moment, he had no sons, only a toddler daughter. But who could say how long that would last?
    Here in the woods, differences of rank and ambition fell away. Lanius swung down off his horse. He rubbed his hindquarters when he did; he was not a man who made a habit of riding. Anser laughed at him. The arch-hallow loved horses only less than hunting. Even Anser’s mockery was good-natured. What would have been infuriating from Ortalis only made Lanius laugh, too, when Grus’ bastard did it.
    Why couldn’t they have been reversed? Lanius wondered. I would never have to worry about a usurpation from Anser. And Ortalis — Ortalis would have made an arch-hallow to set evildoers trembling in their boots. Things were as they were, though, not as would have been convenient for him. He knew that only too well. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been a small, oft-captured piece in the great Avornan political game for so much of his life.
    Carrying bows and quivers, he and Ortalis and Anser went in among the trees. The beaters spread out to drive game their way. Some of the guards accompanied Anser’s raffish crew. Others stayed with the king, the prince, and the prelate. Lanius’ boots scuffed through the gray-brown rotting leaves that had fallen the autumn before. Try as he would, he couldn’t move quietly. Ortalis was far better at it. As for Anser, he might have been a poacher himself by the way he silently slid along.
    A squirrel jeered at them from high in a tree. Ortalis started to reach for an arrow, then checked the motion. “No point to it,” he said. “I’d never hit him up there, not shooting through all those branches.”
    One of the royal guards who’d gone on ahead came pounding back. Anser winced at the racket he made. The guards, however, refused to let Lanius go off without them. If that hurt Anser’s hunting, they didn’t care. This one said, “There’s a nice clearing up ahead.”
    That made the arch-hallow happier—it didn’t take much. “Lead us to it,” he said. “Without too much jingling, if you can.”
    â€œI’ll do my best,”