Read Online The Queen's Lady by Shannon Drake - Free Book Online

the others had apparently taken a different turn. She wasn’t concerned; she did love riding. But as she slowed her horse, wondering where she had gone astray, she heard a thrashing sound.
    Her horse heard it, as well, and began to shy. She talked soothingly, her hands firm on the reins.
    All her experience did her no good. The mare suddenly shot straight up in the air, then flipped over, snorting and screaming, a blood-curdling sound. The next thing Gwenyth knew, she was on the ground, lying several feet from the mare, which struggled to its feet and bolted.
    â€œWait! Traitor!” Gwenyth shouted.
    She stumbled to her feet, testing her limbs for breaks. She was sore from head to foot, covered in dirt and forest bracken. At first she was aggravated with both the horse and herself; there had been no way to keep her seat, but she should have been up more quickly, soothing the animal, keeping it near her.
    Then she heard the noise again, and the boar appeared.
    Arrows stuck out from its left shoulder. Blood oozed down the maddened animal’s side. It had been hit and badly wounded, and now it was staggering but still on its feet.
    And it saw her.
    It stared at her, and she stared into its tiny eyes in return. It was immense; she couldn’t begin to imagine its weight.
    Die, she thought. Oh, please, die.
    But it wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. It pawed the ground, staggered, snorted—and began to race toward her.
    She screamed and ran, looking desperately for a clear trail—and a tree she could climb.
    Was it the pounding of the creature’s hooves she heard, or the rapid thunder of her own heart? If she could just keep ahead of it long enough, it would have to die, given that it was losing so much blood. It seemed as if she ran for eons, and still she could hear it coming behind her.
    Then she stumbled on a tree root and went flying into the brush. Despite being certain she was dead, she rolled, desperately trying to jump to her feet and run again.
    The boar was almost upon her.
    Then she heard a new thundering drawing near and heard the whistle of an arrow cutting through the air.
    The boar wasn’t ten feet from her when the arrow caught the creature cleanly in the throat. It seemed to back up a step, then wavered and fell dead.
    She inhaled deeply, hunched down on the forest floor, shaking like a leaf. She blinked, and was barely aware when strong arms came around her, lifting her to her feet. She had never thought of herself as a coward, yet her knees gave way. She barely registered that it was Laird Rowan who had come for her, who had so unerringly killed the boar with a fraction of a second to spare, and who now lifted her cleanly to her feet, holding her close, soothing her as gently as he might a child. “You’re all right. It’s over.”
    She clung to him, her arms around his neck, and as she leaned against the powerful bastion of his chest, she was all too aware that she was continuing to tremble.
    â€œShe should not have shot as she did,” he muttered.
    â€œShe” was the queen, Gwenyth knew. He was criticizing the queen.
    She felt her indignation grow and gained strength from that. Her trembling ceased, and she realized Laird Rowan was shaking, as well, and she almost kept silent, but in the end she had to speak. She stiffened in his arms and said, “The queen is an excellent shot. Laird James should not have raced after her. He no doubt distracted her.”
    â€œHe was concerned for her life,” Rowan retorted instantly. “Apparently he should also have been concerned with yours.”
    â€œSet me down, please, this instant,” she demanded, offended that he so clearly saw her as a useless fool.
    He did as she demanded, and she wavered, then fell against him again. She really was a fool, she thought. She had not realized that her limbs had remained as weak as jelly.
    He steadied her, not allowing her to fall. She fought desperately for