Eyes of the Hunter

By Rosa Marchisella

Prince Erin, heir to the throne of Simanthea, spent a lifetime protecting a dangerous secret. But even the most tightly guarded secret can't be kept forever. When Caley, Erin's best friend and devoted bodyguard, discovers the depth of Erin's deception, his rage explodes like wildfire and devoted guardian turns to terrifying bounty hunter. To survive, Erin must outrun the past and evade the Eyes of the Hunter.

 

** Praise for Eyes of the Hunter **

"Superbly crafted, Ms. Marchisella has created a world with vivid imagery, compelling characters, and the right touch of wicked humor to keep you turning the page." ~ Emma T. Gitani, Rhetoric Askew Creative Development Editor

 

"A unique ride for any fan of Romance, Young Adult, or Fantasy, Eyes of the Hunter ditches established tropes to create a rich, varied plot with unique characters and an amazing narrative I couldn't put down." ~ Thomas Atwood, Dauntless

 

 

"The intriguing premise hooked me from the start. Adventure, friendship, love, loyalty, deception, betrayal and forgiveness; Eyes of the Hunter has all the elements I love in a book." ~ Maria Bernard, These Bones Series

 

"Eyes of the Hunter is a captivating tale of deception, forbidden love, and betrayal. I enjoyed it so much I read it twice!" ~ Laurie Wetzel, Unclaimed Series

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ember Park Imprint
• Release date: Jan 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781989016022

Rosa Marchisella

Rosa Marchisella is the author of the gripping Touch of Insanity series and bone-chilling novella, The Greatest of Books. Her stories focus on fantasy, paranormal, and thrilling adventures. A dynamic and prolific story-teller, Rosa has earned critical praise as a writer, stage actress, vocalist, public speaker, and artist. Her hobbies include gardening, hikes, and playing games with her kids.

Book preview

Chapter 1

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Queen Marianna breathed through another contraction. She needed to provide an heir to the throne or her head would decorate the top of a pike next to her predecessor’s. The headsman wore a fond smile as the previous queen’s head hit the stones. It still gave Fenral nightmares.

King Eulid Sewart required a direct male heir to prevent his brother, Urdin, from assuming the throne upon his death. Marianna did her best to accommodate, but all seven babies she birthed were girls. Fenral hoped this child would be her salvation.

He smiled with quiet pride. You’re doing great.

Thanks to you. Marianna’s wide blue eyes shone with fear and pain. I would be dead without your skills.

You were just a little weak from your last pregnancy.

Weak? I nearly died!

Fenral brushed a honey-gold lock from her forehead. He didn’t like to think about those things. Marianna had been a curvaceous creature with an enticing grin when she arrived at the palace for her wedding. The continuous pregnancies ravaged Marianna’s body. At twenty-three years of age, her duty to the king had robbed her of youth, health, and her smile. Fenral kissed her knuckles. Still beautiful to me.

Eulid has not been lenient with me because of my pretty face. You’ve kept him mellow over the years, but his tolerance for the herbs has increased. He’s become impatient.

I know. Everything is in place, my queen. No one knows I’ve returned to the palace. To everyone who’s seen me, I’m just an old midwife. By the time the king returns from his business in Ezibt, a newborn prince will be named and a new guardian will be in place to protect him. You and your child will be safe.

It’s a gamble, Fen. We’ll die slow, agonizing deaths if the truth is discovered. Marianna took a shaky breath and looked to him for strength. Before he could respond, another wave of contractions hit and she gripped his hand. They came harder. It was time.

Fenral extricated his hand and moved into position. Years of helping with the birthing process lent surety to his actions and calm to his voice as their work began in earnest.

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Fenral appraised the crowd waiting in the arena below. Boys between the ages of seven and fifteen had been hand-selected by their trainers and sent to the palace from across the country. The best candidate would undergo intense training, raised alongside the prince to ensure a brotherly bond. Such a bond would create a devoted bodyguard and companion which no adult soldier could ever be.

After he dispatched the testimony of live birth for Simanthea’s new heir to King Eulid, Marianna called the trial for a guardian to begin. She stood at the rail with her newborn babe. I am proud to present Prince Erin Ruliard Sewart, heir to the throne of Simanthea. This is who you are fighting to serve.

A smatter of applause and awkward shuffling greeted her announcement. Fenral knew most of the boys were here for a better life in the palace. They didn’t care about bonding with a baby. Marianna would have to choose carefully.

Children were shamelessly displayed like animals at a county fair. Determined to have only the best, Marianna inspected teeth, examined eyes, and barked out orders to see how fast the children responded. Most were easy to weed out. Anyone who didn’t obey quickly or showed arrogance was sent home. If their eyes were void of intelligence or they lacked common sense, the queen sent them packing.

Eventually, only three candidates remained. Two were big for their age and bright enough to keep from embarrassing their parents. One wore his straw colored hair in a close crop. The other had a splotchy complexion from an unfortunate case of overzealous freckles.

The third candidate was only seven, but Fenral found the child unsettling. While the other boys roughhoused and did loud things boys do, this one remained still and quiet. Neither antisocial nor unfriendly, he blended into the background like a well-made tapestry. When interviewed, the boy spoke clearly, looking them in the eye as an equal. His dark eyes gazed into a person’s soul, ready to expose every secret.

Marianna called a break for dinner and retreated to her chambers with the prince nestled in her arms.

Fenral followed a step behind. The one with dark eyes. He looks scrawny.

Marianna nodded. True, but you saw his father. The man is a hulking brute and the boy looks just like him.

He held the door for her. They did say he’s had advanced training.

I want to make the right choice, but . . . I can’t decide.

He gently took the sleeping prince from Marianna and laid the babe in the crib. Rest while I fetch you something to eat.

What if . . .?

Fenral paused with a hand on the door.

They could settle it like men in the arena?

Intriguing idea. Fight one-on-one to ensure Crop Cut and Freckles don’t gang up on the smaller boy.

The one who survives will be trained as Erin’s guardian.

Fenral smiled at her. Your beauty is outmatched only by your wisdom, my queen.

After their meal, Fenral stood behind Marianna’s blue velvet cushions on the balcony and watched as Crop Cut and Freckles knocked each other about without finesse. It was obvious the match was evenly made.

We could keep both boys. Train them as a team, so the baby will be twice as safe? Marianna looked to him, expectantly.

The plan has appeal.

She flashed him a rare grin and Fenral held up a hand. Halt! We have a draw.

A coin-toss pitted Freckles against the dark-eyed boy. They took their places in the ring. The smaller boy’s features were schooled in the stoic expression his father wore during their interview.

Marianna twisted the delicate fabric of her skirt between her hands as Fenral motioned for the fight to start.

Freckles lunged, fists raised, and the smaller boy sidestepped to deliver a sharp blow to the kidney. Freckles doubled over with a grunt. The smaller boy dropped a sharp elbow to the back of his opponent’s head. Freckles landed unconscious in the dirt with a thud.

Queen Marianna ordered the last fight to start. Crop Cut approached the dark-eyed boy with caution. The boys circled each other. The crowd waited in silence for one of them to make a move. Crop Cut pounced with arms wide. The dark-eyed boy dodged a moment too slow and found himself in a bear-tight grip.

Lifted from the ground and face-to-face with his adversary, the smaller boy stretched out his twiggy legs and wrapped them round his captor. In one quick motion, he used his heels to rap his rival behind the knees and threw his weight forward. Crop Cut’s knees buckled and he toppled backward with a shocked expression. A pained groan escaped the boy as he slammed into the ground. His arms went limp.

Marianna gaped and Fenral nodded. It was pointless to continue. The smaller child was faster, craftier, and more deserving of the prize. Marianna called a halt to the match. The boy raised his chin and stared up at them. His eyes shifted from the queen to Fenral and back again.

Declare your name for the world to hear, boy, Queen Marianna ordered. Hundreds of people sat forward in their seats to learn the name of this wondrous child.

My name is Caley Aswin. His voice rang out across the hushed arena.

Fenral translated his name from the old tongue and smiled. Small Protector, indeed.

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Caley pressed himself deeper into his feather-stuffed mattress, remembering the frantic beat of his heart when he saw the size of the other boys. His arms and legs trembled as he’d stepped into the arena. He followed his father’s instruction to focus solely on combat and what he could do to stop the other boys from hurting him. His victory was a sweet surprise and a bitter reward.

Tears crept down his face. Caley’s body hurt and an ache clenched his chest where loneliness twisted his heart. It was his first time away from his family. He hugged a little wooden soldier his father carved for him and considered going after his parents. He was tempted, but knew he had responsibilities now. Caley was not yet a man, but if he wanted any respect, he needed to work toward it while he was still young.

His father always had something wise to say when Caley felt troubled. He needed counsel now. His father’s words echoed in his memory.

If man lets his fears rule him, man will undo himself.

He put the soldier aside, wiped his face dry, and headed to the training yard. It would take hard work to become everything the queen needed him to be. He yearned to make his parents proud of him, but didn’t know if he could. There is so much to learn!

A summons pulled Caley from training mid-afternoon. Queen Marianna wanted him in her private chambers. He was covered in dirt and tired, but didn’t dare disobey or delay, even to change his clothes. He went straight to her majesty’s chambers, hoping he wasn’t in trouble.

Caley trembled as he entered. The heavy, deep blue drapes were drawn aside and the shutters thrown open to let in the soft summer breeze. The chamber was simpler than he expected for a queen’s room. Besides the enormous bed with its curtains of light fabric, there was an elaborately carved armoire. It was as wide as his father was tall. In the middle of the room, a small table held mysterious items used to care for babies.

Queen Marianna reclined in a swan-legged lounge chair and rocked Prince Erin. He heard from the servants that only the queen dressed, held, or bathed the little prince. After producing children like she was one of the King’s prize breeding mares instead of a lady of noble birth, no one questioned her protective nature toward her only son.

Caley stood in front of the queen and gave a deep bow. His knees wobbled, and for one agonizing moment, he thought he might not be able to stand again. The weakness passed, but he kept his eyes on the tips of his shoes as he’d been instructed to do.

He waited for the queen to acknowledge him, curiosity burning. Was he going to meet the prince? Minutes passed without a word. Caley lifted his gaze and discovered the queen smiling sweetly. He smiled back before he realized her smile was not meant for him. Her look was for the little bundle in her arms. She rocked with soft back and forth motions. It reminded Caley of when the waves at home lapped at his toes in the same hypnotic fashion.

When the queen turned her attention to him, her voice was soft. Would you like to meet the child you are sworn to protect with your life?

Caley nodded, but hesitated to step forward. Queen Marianna reached out a hand and pulled him closer. Her silk skirt pooled around him like a tiny pebble being swallowed by a high tide.

Caley Aswin, I would like you to meet Erin Ruliard, heir to the throne of Simanthea.

Caley glanced at the queen’s face as she cooed to her child before being drawn to the precious bundle pressed against her. His breath caught in his chest. He reached out a hand and touched the prince’s round face. The babe’s tender skin was the softest thing he’d ever felt.

Prince Erin gurgled, smiling up at Caley. One tiny fist broke free of the blanket and waved about, reaching toward him. Caley marveled as the prince wrapped a small hand around one of his fingers. Each little finger had a perfect fingernail.

Prince Erin sucked the captured finger.

No, no, Prince Erin, Caley whispered. That’s dirty.

He pulled away and the prince wailed. Caley returned his finger to the babe’s mouth. Prince Erin was tiny, but his cries were full of royal displeasure. Once the finger returned to his toothless maw, Prince Erin returned to sucking quietly. It felt strange but oddly pleasant.

As he watched the prince gazing up, Caley understood why Queen Marianna wanted only the best for her son. Caley’s father affectionately called him Beagan, meaning ‘Little One’. Now he was the one with a Beagan of his own to care for. Caley’s chest puffed in pride. This baby needed him, and he would never, ever allow harm to befall the little prince. I will be the very best of men