There was no time to think. With a man or woman, you could have said, keep still, I will help you. You could have explained what you would do. Even without words, you could have done that. With a dog, you just had to get on with it. I untied my bundle, looped the cord around her neck and tied it so it would not strangle her. As my hand passed before her mouth she snapped wildly and sank her teeth into my fingers. But once the cord was tied, I could hold it down with one foot and use it to keep her head to one side, more or less. Then the knife. I stretched for it. If only she would stop howling so. If she would just stop. My fingers clutched at the knife. There, I had it. And now, I must cut the arrow cleanly, close to the trunk, and then I must draw the shaft out from her flesh. I watched her carefully as I set to work. She was a very old dog. Perhaps the dreadful noise was a good sign. At least she had the strength to protest. I began to saw at the arrow shaft, blinking back tears, for with every wrenching movement I sent a wave of agony through her small body. It was an awkward task, and she strained her head around, eyes rolling, teeth snapping.

“Need some help?”

I froze. There was no mistaking the smooth, urbane voice of Red’s uncle, Lord Richard. I did not turn, but I felt a chill of fear down my spine.

“Oh dear. That does look tricky. My apologies. It seems one of my huntsmen has a poor aim. He shall be disciplined.”

He walked into view, a picture in immaculate riding gear, gloved and booted in the finest of soft leather, his tunic and leggings a deep midnight blue. His expression, under the curls of faded gold, was a study in rueful apology, with a hint of amusement.

“Let me, my dear. Foolish old dog, isn’t she? I always did tell the boy he’d be better off with a deerhound, or even a pointer. Come, my hands are more apt for this.”

I shook my head; I didn’t want him anywhere near me, or Alys. But he moved close, very close, and suddenly he had an extremely sharp knife in his hand. I shrank away from him. He lifted his brows with a half smile.

“Anyone would think you were frightened,” he observed as he severed the arrow shaft with one swift slice. Alys staggered a few steps, and I tightened my grip on the makeshift lead.

“What were you planning to do next?” he asked, stepping away. Ignoring him, I knelt and took hold of the arrow near the blue feathers on its tail. Placed my foot firmly on the rope again so Alys could hardly move. Pulled as hard as I could. The shaft slid clear with a horrible sucking sound and she gave a yelp of terror. It was over.