The Princess and the Huntsman Read Online Free PDF

foolish choice and certainly not better than trying to cajole her way into Smith’s good graces. Perhaps she could get information from him about their whereabouts, and glean what direction she might follow. If she could convince him to let her ride, she would be in a much stronger position.
    “Princess!” It was Smith calling from the camp. “I shall come to fetch you, do you not appear as I count to three.”
    Brandywyn quickly stepped into the pathway and toward the encampment. “No need to fetch me, Smith. Here I am.”
    “Good. Now sit on that log and be still.” He pointed to a fallen log several feet from the new, smoky fire.
    Although it was uncomfortable to her bottom, she sat, watching the men make the camp comfortable, rough as it was. They brought out dried meats and cured sausages, cheese and hard breads. Someone had a few bottles of wine and they passed those around as they ate. No one offered Brandywyn anything. Her mouth watered as she watched each morsel of the fare be eaten. She was so hungry, but she was no mendicant, begging for her daily bread.
    Smith, observant as always, saw her discomfort. “Hungry, m’lady?”
    Although she hesitated, she finally shook her head. “No.”
    “Ah. More’s the pity. I shall have to eat your portion myself, lest it spoil.”
    Stifling a groan, Brandywyn watched him slowly chew and swallow the last of the cheese, the last bite of bread, the last slurp of wine. A crumb stuck in his beard for a moment before he brushed it away. Her stomach growled loudly.
    “There’s a bit more sausage left,” Smith showed her, passing the garlic-scented cured meat under her nose. It was so tempting to snatch it from his hands and gobble it down.
    Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on her father’s dining hall, with the trenchers full of meats and sturdy vegetables with gravy, sweet and savory puddings steaming on the platters.
    Smith laughed and wrapped the sausage in cloth, putting it back in its satchel. “When you get hungry, Princess, you let me know. I shall consider your request for food.”
    “You cannot mean to starve me!” How many days could she go without food? She would die!
    He snorted. “Nay, of course not. But ‘tis your own stubbornness that kept you from the food, not I.”
    That was true enough, but had he been less unpleasant, she would have never refused the food in the first place. It was all his fault, and he knew it, the scoundrel. Of course, he knew it.
    As the evening wore into true night, the men, one by one, rolled up in their cloaks and fell to their dreams. After a bit, only Smith and Brandywyn were awake. She eyed him warily. This would be the time she dreaded. He was sure to rape her now. The horror of it made her insides feel like jelly. She had never had a man and this was not the way to discover what that kind of intimacy felt like.
    Smith yawned broadly, then rose and got the ropes again. Oh, gods, he was going to tie her up first. She would not be able to fight him!
    Brandywyn shook with terror, but stood quickly and smacked Smith in the face. He did not even rock on his feet, turning his head only slightly with her weak blow. A hopeless feeling of dread slowed the beat of Brandywyn’s heart.
    “I shall not return that blow, Princess, though I am sorely tempted. Hold out your hands for binding.”
    “No!” She pulled her hands behind her back, lamely hiding them from view.
    “Do’t now, or I shall take you over my knee again. Did my hand not make you cooperative, my belt surely will.”
    High color made Brandywyn’s face heat. How dare he threaten to beat her again! And with a belt! She made a swing at him again, but he caught her hand easily. A kick to his shin got nothing but a growl out of him. He made to grab both of her hands together, but she beat at his chest, kicked and struggled. Several of the men sat up to watch, and she saw wagers exchanged. Scratching, clawing, she tried to avoid the ropes and Smith’s