The Calamity of a Reborn Witch

Book 3: Chapter 22: Of Leaf and Shadow



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Carina’s awareness floated somewhere between her cortex of power and the rustling, flickering leaves of Gilwren Forest. The blossoming prism of Lumi’s view splintered, then expanded as the scriva divided into five beautiful white wolves that raced beneath shadow and knotted tree limb. The smaller scriva’s quickly sprinted through the vast forest, startling bird, dear, and other woodland creatures as they glistened past in a white blur.

The map beneath the ice witch’s fingertips took shape as the scrivas’ gaze recorded each landmark of interest: a small clearing with a bare dogwood tree, creeks that led back to the river, the northern bridge, and shallow, sloping cliffs, one of which included a man-made earth hut with a wooden door and moss-covered stool outside.

Once the Duchess felt she had a better understanding of the geography of the north-western forest, she summoned Lumi back to the cortex. The five wolves became shining shards that quickly merged into the form of the original scriva, who wagged her tail with oddly animalistic enthusiasm as she butted her cold nose against Carina’s elbow for praise.

The Duchess was still smiling when she returned to the firm foundation of her tent floor with the mattress of the bed against her shoulders and lower back.

“Where did you go?”

Carina started and turned to find Ivy resting against the pillows by the edge of the bed, studying her curiously.

“You didn’t react when I called your name earlier,” Ivy explained as she fiddled with the end of a goose feather sticking out of her pillow.

“I was just—meditating—”

“You are cold to the touch,” Ivy murmured worriedly as she pressed her fingertips against the Duchess’s forehead. A flicker of discomfort creased the skin between her brows as her jade-green eyes tightened in pain. Ivy grimaced and hastily pulled back.

“I am cold because that is the nature of my magic,” Carina reminded her as she rolled over to kneel beside the bed, careful to maintain a safe distance. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Ivy replied with a half-smile. “Though—I’m not sure how long it will last.”

“Then perhaps it would be better if you stayed and—”

“No! Please let me join you!” Ivy interrupted with a note of desperation. “Just for this afternoon. Lady Hana is—she can give me another dose of—” she trailed off with a look of discomfort mingled with guilt that Carina all too easily understood.

“Hana helps you because she wants to. No one is forcing her,” Carina replied reassuringly as she pushed against the edge of the bed and climbed to her feet.

Worry lingered in Ivy’s jade-green eyes before she mumbled out, “I know,” and looked away.

A flash of light from behind the privacy curtain quickly pulled the Duchess’s attention to the front of the tent. She moved swiftly past the curtain to find Hana closing her parasol with an oddly irritated expression. “Welcome back! Is—everything alright?”

The Viscountess sighed, shook her head, smiled, then walked over to give Carina a tight hug. “All is well,” Hana murmured, then pulled back and clasped the Duchess’s hands. “How was your training with Captain Beaumont?”

“It went—well,” Carina replied with a firm mental push against the uncomfortable emotions brought up by Beaumont’s name. “I will need a lot more practice and experience before I can properly hunt with it, but—"

Hana laughed. “Honestly, Kirsi, you were never one for modesty. Surely you can outshoot just about every noble here.”

‘Yes, Kirsi probably could—but I have no such experience.’ The Duchess forced a quick smile and pulled away to freshen up before the vanity desk beside the privacy curtain. ‘I’ll need to press Kirsi for more specialized training tonight before tomorrow’s hunt.’

Carina looked up as the Viscountess moved behind her to unweave the disheveled braids in the Duchess’s hair. “How was your walk with his Majesty?”

Hana’s hand paused over the mother of pearl comb on the vanity desk. “Kirsi. How much do you trust his Majesty?”

“What do you mean?” Carina raised a brow as she studied her friend’s troubled expression quizzically. “Did something happen?”

“No. It’s just—the prince was asking questions about my—family.”

The Duchess’s eyes widened as her gaze dropped to the locked jewelry box tucked against the mirror. ‘Did Nicholas know of Hana’s relationship to the Pope?’ She spread her fingers out against the warm desk and tried to appear unbothered as Hana began brushing through the section of hair she had unbraided. ‘It’s not impossible. If I could dig up Hana’s past, Nicholas could probably find the same information. Then again, I knew what I was looking for—how is it possible for Nicholas to find the same trail? And what would have prompted him to become so interested in Hana’s past, to begin with?’

“I told the Crown Prince that my family are all but dead to me,” Hana murmured as she set down the comb and re-braided Carina’s ash-brown hair.

Carina laced her fingers together as she studied her friend’s composed expression. “Is that—really how you feel?”

“Yes,” Hana replied with little emotion as she wove the braid back through the silver hair ornament pinned to the back of the Duchess’s curls.

“But—what if they came looking for you?”

The Viscountess shrugged and then leaned against the desk beside the Duchess. “I would tell them the person they were looking for is long dead.”

A brief silence settled between them, through which the Duchess could hear Ivy getting dressed behind the curtain. The wind blew restlessly against the tent’s opening flaps. Tiny specs of dust spiraled through the opening and glittered like gold in the sunlight. The distant sound of voices accompanied by the bustle of the military camp around them felt strangely familiar, like a dream Carina had walked through once before.

“Sometimes, the family we choose means more than the one we were born into,” Carina murmured as she rubbed the cold bracelet on her wrist.

The Viscountess smiled, then knelt at the startled Duchess’s feet, where she clasped both of Carina’s hands and kissed them in turn. “Then you are the only family I choose, Kirsi.”

The Duchess smiled gently in response, then stiffened as the Viscountess half-rose and leaned in towards her. Instinctively, Carina pulled her hands free and placed them on either side of Hana’s cheeks before pulling her head down gently to kiss the Viscountess’s forehead. “You and Ivy will always be my family.”

A faint frown tugged at the corners of Hana’s lips as she sank back down onto her knees, but she quickly smiled and clasped Carina’s right hand tightly. “I know that I hold little power and influence, but I promise that I will protect you this time, Kirsi.”

‘This time?’ Before Carina could press for more information, Colonel Isaac stepped through the tent flaps and cleared his throat.

“Forgive the interruption, your Grace. But Lord Bromwell is here with a guest asking for an audience.”

“Lord Bromwell?” Hana echoed as she rose gracefully to her feet and faced the Colonel.

“Oh, he’s a—family relative,” Carina explained hastily, then turned as Ivy appeared through the curtain, fully dressed and smiling nervously. “Colonel, why don’t you escort him over, and I’ll introduce the both of you.”

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“Thank you, your Grace. I hope you managed to find a bit of rest from the heat before this afternoon’s tour,” Walter said brightly as he and the man dressed in brown and gray leathers beside him offered the Duchess a bow in greeting.

“We did,” Carina replied as she motioned for them to rise and then gestured to the ladies beside her. “Lord Walter Bromwell, allow me to introduce two very dear friends, Lady Hana and Lady Ivy. Lord Bromwell is a nephew of Lord Rykard and will inherit the Viscount’s estate in the future.”

“A pleasure,” Walter replied with a polite head bow. “Ah! And this is Jasper, your assigned huntsman for the competition.”

Jasper offered yet another simple bow that lacked the usual flourish of Lafearian nobility. His seal-gray eyes danced around the tent but showed no signs of interest in any of the luxurious surroundings before returning to their neutral position on the ground at his feet.

“I hope you don’t mind if I volunteer myself to join your party,” Walter added, pulling the Duchess’s attention away from the silent huntsman.

“Are you asking or telling me?” Carina joked lightly as she stepped towards them.

“Pleading would be a more accurate term, your Grace,” Walter countered with a sheepish smile as he leaned in closer to whisper. “Since Lord Rykard decided to join the Crown Princess’s hunting party, he asked that I serve as his Majesty’s escort. So, I hope you’ll do me the honor of tolerating my presence.”

His half-joking tone and placating demeanor amused the Duchess, who arched a brow but nodded her assent. “Very well. I see no reason to turn down another experienced hunter.”

Walter grinned and offered her a wink as he leaned back. “Consider me an unofficial advantage. I’ve spent every summer of my life here in Gilwren forest. I know every back trail and herding ground there is as well as the best spots to hold a picnic or go bird watching.”

“It’s true, your Grace,” the huntsman interjected in a low but firm voice. “As I am relatively new to the Viscount’s estate compared to the other huntsmen, having Lord Bromwell at your side would certainly benefit us.”

Carina offered them both a polite smile in response. ‘It’s likely Lord Rykard sent his nephew to ensure that his Majesty is taken care of properly—but I can’t help but wonder if there is another motive.’

“If my lord and ladies are ready, the tour is set to begin any minute now,” Jasper added patiently. “The sooner we head out, the more ground we can cover before nightfall.”

“The sooner, the better unless we want to keep his Majesty waiting,” Walter added with a quick smile. “We saw the Crown Prince headed to the forest line accompanied by a few other nobles on our way over.”

“Yes, I believe we are ready,” Carina replied with a quick glance towards Ivy. The nervous older girl smiled and nodded, then moved to collect her riding cape from a nearby chest. “Then, Colonel Isaac, if you’d fetch our horses.”

❆❆❆❆❆

The Duchess’s hunting party met beneath the dancing bough of a yellow birch tree that grew just a few yards from the edge of Gilwren forest. Introductions were made once more, and Carina offered a quick explanation for Lady Hana and Ivy’s presence while clarifying that they were only partaking in the tour and not the hunt itself.

“I’m sure they’ll find plenty of entertainment with the rest of the noble ladies back at the Manor,” Walter commented with a friendly smile as he nodded in Ivy’s direction. “Lord Rykard has quite a collection of board games that the late Viscountess of Gilwren was fond of should the ladies grow bored of gossip and tea.”

Despite Hana’s previous insistence on joining the tour, her predisposition towards horses had resurfaced when they entered the makeshift tent stable at the edge of the camp. The bay mare that Colonel Isaac had selected from the knight’s tethered stock proved docile enough to calm the nervous noblewoman’s initial fear. After a few minutes of anxious fidgeting, Hana managed to climb into the saddle but quickly turned pale the moment the mare pricked up her ears and took a step forward. The Viscountess’s outpouring fear had unsettled the mare, who tossed her head in disapproval as Hana quickly dismounted.

In the end, Carina opted to replace her saddle with one large enough to allow Hana to ride comfortably behind her. At the same time, Ivy proved more than comfortable riding on her own with the mare the Viscountess had rejected.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Carina whispered as the gathered nobles admired each other’s longbows, which appeared to be the most popular choice for the hunt. The Duchess placed a hand over Hana’s arm, locked tightly around her waist, and turned towards the trembling lady.

“Yes, I’m—I just need a moment,” Hana replied through clenched teeth. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“I admire your courage in facing your fears, Hana, but don’t force yourself—and let me know if you need me to stop or slow down.”

The Viscountess smiled weakly and nodded in reply.

“Then if we’re all accounted for?” Jasper called out from the back of an impatient blue roan mare as he circled the birch tree.

“This appears to be everyone,” Attwood replied with a glance over the small assembly of nobles.

“Well, we’ll all have a fair chance at snagging a shot tomorrow,” Viscount Gladstone commented with amusement as he adjusted the pale white longbow and quiver strapped to his back.

“We could recruit a few nobles from amongst the Duchess knights—” The Prime Minister cut off abruptly beneath Isaac’s stern glare. “Then again, their attention should be focused on his Majesty’s safety rather than adding to our kill count.”

“We still have a chance to recruit a few more members before tomorrow morning,” Nicholas commented with a dispirited sigh. “For now, let's enjoy the tour.”

“As you wish, your Majesty,” Jasper replied with a polite head bow, then turned his blue roan towards a visible path between two looming alder trees.

Beaumont followed directly behind the huntsman. The Crown Prince and Prime Minister rode close behind the knight captain, followed by two royal knights that Carina did not recognize. She quietly noted that one carried a large war horn while the other had a musket latched to his saddle for easy access.

‘Considering the use of muskets and rifles is forbidden during the hunt, they're a good way to send out a distress signal.’

Viscount Gladestone trailed behind the royal knights at a leisurely pace. The nobleman leaned over to snatch a piece of long grass at the edge of the forest, which he promptly placed between his lips to chew.

“He does that to help keep his mind off his smoking pipe,” Bromwell explained with a faint chuckle as he motioned for the Duchess to ride ahead of him.

Carina nodded to Isaac, who signaled four of the ten Bastiallano knights escorting them to follow behind the Viscount. The Colonel rode in behind them, followed by the Duchess and her female companions, then Lord Bromwell, leaving the remaining six knights at the tail end of the hunting party.

❆❆❆❆❆

The creaking, swaying limbs of the alder tree shielded them from the warm glow of the evening sun. Once a few paces inside the forest's interior, Carina noticed a quick change in temperature as she breathed in the musky scent of damp moss and pine. The steady clop of the horses’ hooves against the path, accompanied by the relaxing hush of the wind slipping through the leaves above them, was broken only by the rustle of some unseen woodland creature through the leaves and the occasional chirping bird.

“It’s so—peaceful,” Ivy whispered as her mount moved up beside the Duchess’s white mare.

“It is, isn’t it,” Walter replied in a matching whisper as he leaned against his saddle towards them. “One of Gilwren’s many charms.”

‘Walter’s quite passionate about the estate he’s to inherit,’ Carina mused as she moved carefully along the path. While the trail was wide enough for two horses to ride side by side occasionally, it also wound between several tilting trees, which forced the hunters to slow down and move in single file. At one point, Jasper stopped to hold up the low-hanging branch of a silver elm tree until the Duchess and her party passed beneath it. The huntsman then rode through the forest leaves to overtake the lead in front of the Crown Prince.

The further they traveled, the more grateful Carina became for their guide's presence. No matter what direction she turned, every direction looked the same. Even the path was occasionally lost beneath a landside of damp leaves.

‘Between Jasper and Walter, we shouldn’t get lost easily. But I’ll feel better with a compass and map tomorrow.’

Their first stop was a small clearing covered in the wilted petals of a pink dogwood tree. Two small, hand-drawn carts, covered in leather tarps to keep out the rain, rested beside the dormant tree.

“This is where your men will bring back the kills for each outing,” Jasper explained, with a nod to the carts meant to ferry the dead animals back to the Manor. “I would suggest working out a rotation to make their job easier, but you don’t appear to be lacking in manpower.”

Nicholas chuckled and nodded towards the Duchess, who took his indication to mean that her knights would be assigned this task.

They continued past a few landmarks that Carina remembered from Lumi’s scouting vision. A giant boulder split in half, where Walter fondly recalled a few camping trips from his youth, the winding stream that led on towards the Vesper river, and finally, the earth hut in the side of a shallow sloping embankment.

“There’s one of these in each quadrant,” Jasper explained as they circled the man-made structure. “They’re not so easy to spot unless you know where to find them, which is why they’re left unlocked. We store medical supplies inside for emergencies that require immediate attention. There’s also a few portions of dried apples, jerky, and freshwater to keep up one’s strength while waiting for suitable transportation.”

The huntsman turned and gestured further north. “The border of Gilwren forest is just a few minutes ride in that direction. That will be our last stop for today’s tour so I can show you what the border flags look like. If you ever get lost, follow the flags until you find a trail that should lead you back here or to the front of the forest. If you end up here, then wait for me to find you. It's very easy to get lost if you are unfamiliar with the forest.”

“Why would we get lost when we have you?” Carina pointed out curiously.

Jasper turned his seal-blue eyes towards her and offered a faint shrug. “It shouldn’t be a problem in a group this size, your Grace. In the past, it was not uncommon for hunting parties to separate in order to cover more ground and increase the odds of hunting down prey. Since each group only has one huntsman, this has led to the occasional lord finding himself lost in the forest for several hours after chasing a deer or some overeager hunting hound.”

“In our case, splitting up might not be a bad idea,” Nicholas commented as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Indeed, your Majesty?” Attwood replied with a worried frown.

“I believe it would be better to stick together,” Carina tacked on quickly in a firm but polite tone. “That would make it easier to keep your Majesty safe.”

“Are we not trying to win this competition, Lady Kirsi,” Nicholas reminded her with a patronizing smile. “We could easily split up into two groups with Lord Bromwell and the Huntsman to guide us."

“Forgive me for insisting,” Carina interrupted sharply. “But I am both the party leader and the one responsible for your Majesty’s safety. Competition is no reason to relax security while your Majesty is exposed to uncertain danger out here in the forest.”

“I believe the Duchess’s recommendation is reasonable, your Majesty,” Attwood interjected. “At the very least, you and Lady Kirsi should remain together with your knights.”

Nicholas turned towards his Prime Minister with a look of exasperation, then sighed towards his chest and nodded. “Very well, we’ll try it your way, Lady Kirsi.”

‘That’s about as close to an agreement as I’ll get right now.’

“What did you find, Huntsman?” Gladestone called out, drawing the Crown Prince and Duchess’s attention to where Jasper had dismounted and knelt staring at the forest ground.

“Wolf tracks, my Lord,” Jasper replied in a faintly puzzled tone. “Or at least—they appear to be.”

Gladestone dismounted to join the huntsman and tilted his head as he pushed aside the withered pink petals and leaves. “I didn’t know wolves roamed this far east of the mountains. By the Saints, look at the size of these! A fully grown monster from the look of it.”

“How big?” Attwood asked nervously as Nicholas and Walter hastily drew their bow and searched the forest around them.

“At least a head taller than any wolf I’ve seen,” Gladestone replied as he pulled his longbow free and nocked an arrow lightly against the string. “Passed through fairly recent from the look of it.”

The Duchess smiled as she watched the huntsman move along the trail for a short distance before the tracks vanished into thin air. “I must ask your Majesty not to shoot if it is a white wolf.”

The Crown Prince and Prime Minister turned in her direction curiously.

“And why is that?” Walter asked as he laid his drawn bow across his saddle.

“Because they are mine,” Carina replied with a smug grin as she faced their inquisitive stares directly. “And they’re going to help us win this competition.”

“They?” Gladestone echoed with raised brows. “How many wolves are we talking about, your Grace?”

“Four.”

“Four white wolves?” Nicholas murmured with increasing incredulity. “And how did you come across four domesticated wolves trained to hunt, Lady Kirsi?”

The Duchess maintained her silence and shrugged as a distant howl echoed through the forest around them.

“Ah-ahem,” Attwood cleared his throat and anxiously touched the crossbow hocked to the pommel of his saddle. “Is that even allowed?”

“Why not?” Nicholas replied as he lowered his longbow with a thoughtful frown. “The rules permit the use of hunting hounds which Lord Borghese brought in abundance this year.”

“Aren’t hounds better suited for smaller pray?” Hana asked as she raised her forehead from its position against Carina’s shoulder.

“Foxes, hares, quail, and even squirrels are included in the total count, my Lady. Although they are worth a smaller amount of points,” Walter explained patiently. “Hounds are useful for tracking and flushing them out. Every scrap of meat, bone, and fur obtained during the hunt is immediately consumed or donated to the armies protecting our border.”

“Still, I would bring the matter up with Viscount Rykard,” Attwood advised with a hint of discomfort.

“Better to keep the wolves our secret, my Lord,” Jasper countered as he grabbed a fallen limb and dragged it carefully over the tracks.

“I agree,” Nicholas added with a pointed look at Attwood and Bromwell. “They may prove to be a key advantage. After all, wolves are natural-born hunters. Let us see how the Duchess’s wolves perform tomorrow before we take the matter to the Viscount.”

“Very well, your Majesty,” Walter replied with an acknowledging head bow. “But only until tomorrow afternoon. This is not something Jasper and I can keep from him for very long. And the monitors who will record each kill are bound to notice if we bring in several deer mawed by an animal.”

“Why does it matter if the Duchess uses wolves or hounds,” Ivy asked hesitantly as she brushed her hand reassuringly along her mare's neck.

“The problem is that the Viscount detest wolves, my Lady,” Gladestone explained with an apologetic smile.

“Oh?” Carina murmured in surprise. “Why is that?”

“Because of an accident nearly two decades ago,” Nicholas answered with a solemn sigh.

“An accident involving wolves, your Majesty?”

“Your Grace,” Attwood interjected gently. “Your mother was not the only child born to Lord Rykard and his late wife. There was also a son, Rykard the III. Unfortunately, the boy tragically died before his coming-of-age ceremony.”

The Prime Minister fell silent once more, and none of the other’s present seemed keen to finish the sad tale.

‘An accidental death involving an uncle I never knew I had and wolves?’ Carina shivered and decided it was better to drop the issue. ‘I can only hope my grandfather’s resentment over the past won’t make him biased. Lumi is the biggest advantage I have over Percy and Borghese.’

Even now, the scriva’s shard that she had set free was stalking closer to a grazing herd of three does and a solitary buck not far from them.

“We should head back,” Jasper announced as he stood and stared off into the woods with a sudden intent silence. “It’s gotten dark early today.”

“Surely there’s still plenty of light to reach the border and return,” Nicholas retorted confidently.

“Nevertheless, your Majesty, I recommend we return.”

The Crown Prince raised his brows at the stubborn huntsman. Behind the prince, Beaumont’s stony expression gave away nothing, but even the Prime Minister took note as the knight captain reached back to loosen the leather latch around his sword casually.

“Perhaps we should return, your Majesty,” Attwood murmured nervously. “I’m sure the Viscount has a grand feast prepared for the first night of the hunt!”

Nicholas narrowed his eyes, glanced between Beaumont and the huntsman with a quizzical frown, and then sighed. “Oh, very well. Lady Kirsi, why don’t you join me for the return trip?” His hazel-blue eyes shifted to Hana seated behind the Duchess with a faint look of irritation. “Your friends may accompany us as well.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Carina replied as she turned the white mare and quickly moved it alongside Beaumont’s speckled gelding. As the hunting party and knights reformed around this new arrangement, Carina nudged the mare closer to the captain, then whispered, “Is anything wrong?”

Beaumont’s violet eyes moved over her briefly before he responded in a low but unsettling voice, “Your wolves are not the only predators who have entered the forest, your Grace.”


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