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With her energy levels waning along with the twilight turning into darkness, Katana headed back to the lodge for a good night’s sleep.
A post and rail fence lined a decent paddock at the side of the grey stone building for the hunter’s horses. A small feed shed at the back of the property housed some hay and straw.
Sheep grazed the lush grass all year round so any horses staying here wouldn’t be alone. Being herd animals, they needed the safety of company in order to rest properly.
Katana realised with a grin that if she opened the living room window, Altair would be able to stick his head inside the living room.
After settling Altair for the evening with a decent pile of hay, a feed of warm bran mash, and fresh water, Katana headed indoors with Jacques. She rummaged through the kitchen cupboards, first looking for a sponge and a bucket of some sort, then for some food.
When all she managed to find was an unopened packet of spaghetti pasta and a tin of chopped tomatoes, she put food off for the time being and decided to help Jacques clean the blood from his fur.
Pouring some warm water into the grey washing up bowl in the sink, Katana carried it into the living room and set it in front of the fire.
With the summer sun having set hours ago, a slight chill hung in the air, leaving Katana with no quandary about lighting the fire.
Ten minutes later, hungry orange flames licked the glass windows of the log burner as they devoured the pile of wood stuffed inside.
Jacques laid in front of Katana and the fire, flat out on his side, and closed his eyes. This was a task they both hated but one that needed doing.
The usual process would be Katana scrubbing his fur until he couldn’t stand the pulling of his hair roots any longer. At that point, she would then wash his muzzle. After his nose had been scrubbed raw, Jacques would take over and clean himself as best he could.
It often took several days of washing for the blood stains to fade out.
After a good hour or more of scrubbing at Jacques fur, Katana gave in before he did when her stomach started cramping in pain for some sort of sustenance.
More than annoyed all she had to eat would be tomato flavoured pasta, she made a mental note to find out who had last stayed here.
The Red Riding Hoods owned hundreds of properties both in urban and rural settings. One of the steadfast rules of being an active hunter stated that in order to help fellow hunters, the cupboards must always be left stocked up before leaving. It would help anyone staying there in the future if a quick meal needed to be made—like tonight.
Katana picked up the two items that would be her food for the evening and turned to Jacques. “You eating with me or finding yourself something?”
He wrinkled his nose up in disgust at the pasta and ambled out into the darkness, disappearing into the treeline.
Shaking her head, Katana quickly cooked her food, shovelled it in her mouth like she hadn’t eaten for a week, and dragged herself upstairs for some sleep.
***
THE SOUND OF MUMBLING voices woke Katana from her deep sleep. When she heard nails scrabbling across the wooden floor outside her bedroom door, she realised Jacques was back, and blatantly not alone.
Grabbing her tanto, the smaller of her three swords, she yanked her bedroom door open.
Jacques stood in front of her door, facing the top of the narrow stairs. With his back up, heckles raised and a deep growl coming from his body, Katana realised he meant business.
When she realised what had him so worked up, she froze.
At the top of the stairs stood a man about her age, give or take a few years. Fair hair, burning green eyes, and a sprinkle of freckles across his nose and cheeks, he definitely fell under the ‘eye candy’ category.
Broad, muscled shoulders and an athletic body completed the package, but with his stern-faced glare, Katana knew his visit didn’t fall under the ‘friendly’ label.
“Who the hell are you?” she said, raising her tanto in front of her. “And why are you in my house?”
He studied her for a few seconds, roving his eyes up and down her body.
Still clothed in her blood-spattered jodhpurs and t-shirt, she definitely didn’t pose as a helpless female. So exhausted from the day’s events, she’d collapsed on the bed as she was.
“I could ask you the same question,” he replied. “And also why you’re covered in blood.”
“This house belongs to my family,” she said, taking a step forward. “And we don’t take kindly to people helping themselves to our property.”
“Your family?” he said, frowning. “You’re one of the Kempe’s?”
Knocked off balance by his knowledge, Katana didn’t know what to say. “Yes.”
“Who are you exactly?”
“Katana,” she replied. “Who are you?”
The guy balked, almost seeming to choke on his own tongue when he heard her name. “You’re Katana Kempe?”
“Err...yeah. And you are?”
“Leaving.”
With that, he turned around, ran down the stairs and back outside, letting the front door slam behind him.
Katana bolted after him, but with night now truly settled around them, Katana could see nothing but a blanket of darkness as she looked into the bleak environment around her.
Still, she shouted questions into the eerie night time landscape, hoping for answers.
Her answer was silence.
Turning to Jacques, she threw her hands up and said, “What the hell...?”
“I don’t know,” he said, slinking over to the fire. “I was asleep here and he just barged in and went upstairs.”
Katana thought back over what woke her, remembering she heard muffled voices. “You were talking to him. What were you talking about? Do you know him?”
Jacques barked with laughter. “Of course not, don’t be silly. I was just telling him to back away and get out.”
After a couple of seconds, Katana decided to accept his explanation, even though deep down in her gut, something didn’t sit quite right. For now, all she needed was a decent, undisturbed rest.