After the meal, Merry insisted that Rose rest, recalling how the Lady Zandrianna had once collapsed from overwork. When Rose argued that there was much to be done, Merry simply replied, "But Mrs. Rose, the chores will still be there later." Torn between pressing the issue and Merry's unusually quiet insistence, she decided to humor the child - this time.
Retiring to the sitting room, Rose sst down on the couch and stretched out her legs, the back of her knees hitting the book she had left there to go eat. 'Well, I've time to read more of it,' she thought and pulling it out from under her, she settled back and opened the pages once more.
I woke up in a strange place, the likes which I've never seen. The air is cool, refreshing. The plants and trees here so green. Did I die? No. I feel. Why? A spear ... I remember a spear. Another hunter, of the nearby clan. I was not careful enough. The fear in his eyes - the loathing. I can still see it as he drove the spear into me. He kicked me as I lay bleeding. I made no move, no sound. He left me.
I woke again to a woman tending me. I had never seen her like before - beautiful and pale. Her hair a pure white. I stared. She merely smiled at me and left, having tended my wound. As I stare up at the canopy of green over my head, I start to remember the hours after the attack.
I was alone, bleeding. Dying. I grabbed my spear up and walked. I ... don't know how far. Miles. A few steps. It felt the same. I stumbled into a clearing, the spear holding me upright. In the shadows of the trees, I saw a figure - a stag. I stared at it, too weak to do more than laugh at the irony. Then, he stepped out into the moonlight, his coat white, his eyes clear. Taller than me, he bowed his head to stare back. I kneeled before him.
"So you recognize me."
I felt, rather than heard, his voice in my head. I nodded. "Yes."
"Good. You have much of your mother in you."
The shock ran through my weakened body. "You ... knew her?"
"I know all the derudh." Was the reply.
"She was ..." I stared up at him.
"She sacrificed herself, so you may live."
"I did kill her." His words confirmed what the village, what my father, had said about me.
"No. She made a choice."
"It matters not. I am dying."
"You will die, but not tonight. Come with me, my child."
"I am ... no one's child."
"You are now," came the amused reply, as the stag turned and walked into the trees. "Stand and follow."
What could I do? He's the huntsman.
I followed ...
Rose closed the book, finding herself with more questions than answers. Who had attacked her, leaving her for dead? Who was this huntsman she spoke of? Where was she from? One after another, thoughts swirled in her head until she closed her eyes and rubbed them.
Setting the journal aside, she decided to find someone who could answer her questions.
