First Rider's Call (15 page)

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Authors: Kristen Britain

BOOK: First Rider's Call
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Karigan waded through the tall grasses of the pasture to check on Condor, the dark dream that had aroused her earlier finally beginning to dissipate. In the dream, black tree limbs had crashed through her window, the moon gleaming cold and sharp on shattered glass strewn across the floor. Tree limbs had snaked into her room, seeking her, beckoning . . . When she tried to run away, glass shards splintered into bare feet.
She shuddered, though the sunlight fell warmly onto her shoulders. The dream had interrupted an otherwise lovely sleep on a
bed
with a real
pillow.
How long since she had last slept on a bed? All she could recall was rocks and roots. She had made up for some of the lost sleep this morning by wallowing in a blessedly hot bath for over an hour. The still fresh memory of it made her smile.
She came upon Condor grazing in the middle of the pasture, apparently enjoying the sunshine beating down on his back, which gleamed a rich chestnut from the attention Dale had lavished on him.
She checked his wound and was satisfied with how well it had healed. There was no sign of festering or swelling and it even appeared there would be little scarring. She sensed it had more to do with the
evaleoren
salve of the Eletians than anything else. The Eletian who had provided the initial treatment slipped her a pot of the salve, which she used up on the journey home.
She found nothing else to warrant concern. Condor huffed as though annoyed by her attention and moved away to crop at another patch of grass.
I guess I know when I’ve been dismissed.
Karigan watched after him as he ambled across the pasture, flicking his tail in lazy fashion at flies. There were a few other horses grazing as well. A butterfly flit tered over the tops of the grasses, and the song of birds lilted to her from clumps of trees at the base of the wall that bordered the pasture and surrounded the castle grounds. She couldn’t quite reconcile this peaceful scene with the darkness of her recent journey. It was as though she had been plucked right out of a nightmare and dropped into this pastoral, tranquil setting.
Nightmares . . .
She figured she’d be having them for a while. Who wouldn’t?
She turned to head back to barracks only to find Mara striding purposefully toward her.
“He looks good,” Mara said, nodding in Condor’s direction.
Karigan followed her gaze. “Considering his journey, I’d have to agree.” When she turned back to Mara, she found herself under the Rider’s critical gaze.
“You, on the other hand,” Mara said, “look underfed. I’ve hauled food all the way from the kitchens to your room only to find you gone.”
Karigan smiled sheepishly when her stomach betrayed her with a rumble at the mention of food. Her work tunic and trousers were baggy—she always lost a little weight on a hard run, but this delegation duty had been another thing entirely.
“I suppose I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat,” she said.
“You
suppose?
” Mara rolled her eyes. “All right then, you follow me.”
“Yes, mistress.”
Mara emitted a strangled noise as she headed up the slope toward barracks. Karigan grinned, thinking it was good to be back.
 
As they neared barracks, a bellow erupted from within that carried out into the sunshine through an open window. Mara hastened her steps, Karigan on her heels wondering what in the world was going on.
Inside, Mara paused in the doorway to the common room, hands on hips, taking in the scene before her. Karigan, stuck behind her in the mud room, peered over her shoulder.
Three Riders occupied the common room. Dale Lit tlepage sprawled limply in an armchair, helpless with laughter. Garth Bowen towered over Tegan Oldbrine, who struggled to maintain an expression of complete innocence.
Karigan smiled to herself, wondering what Tegan had done this time to rouse Garth’s ire.
“I really don’t know what you’re going on about,” Tegan said, “roaring at me like an angry old bear.”
Karigan thought Tegan’s description of Garth apt—he was large and bearlike, and gregarious, but he also possessed a hot temper when pressed.
“You don’t know what I’m going on about?” he demanded.
Dale looked so weak from laughter, Karigan thought she might melt onto the floor.
“My uniform.” He waggled his finger in Tegan’s face. “You gave me that soap. That’s what you did.”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tegan said. “What could soap have to do with it?”
“As if—as if Clan Oldbrine isn’t the pride of the dyers guild!”
“Ahem, Riders,” Mara said.
Tegan and Garth turned at her quiet interruption, and it was then that sunshine pouring through the window revealed the basis of the matter. Garth was a big—
yellow
—Rider! His entire uniform was the yellow of sunflower petals. Karigan covered her mouth to muffle a snort, thinking that if they painted black stripes on him, he’d resemble an oversized honeybee.
As Garth had indicated, Tegan’s clan was well known for its master dyers, and even Stevic G’ladheon did frequent business with them. Tegan had been, of course, a journeyman in the clan trade when she heard the Rider call.
Amazingly, Tegan maintained a straight face, though her eyes held a glint of merriment. Garth stared blankly, and Dale still sat helpless in her chair, wiping a tear from her cheek.
Mara sighed, and it carried overtones of tiredness and disappointment. “Tegan, you are hereby assigned laundry duty for the next month.” The Rider’s mouth dropped open, but before she could lodge a protest, Mara cut her off with a shake of her head. “I know you too well, so there is no use in denying your part in this.” Tegan clamped her mouth shut.
“Those fine uniforms are supplied to us by the generosity of Stevic G’ladheon,” Mara continued, “the materials are expensive. I will not see the uniform so degraded.”
Tegan glanced at her feet, ashamed.
“Garth,” Mara said, “you will change immediately.”
Well, Karigan thought, Mara had certainly assumed an air of authority in her absence. At one time, Mara would have been as helpless as Dale from laughter. In fact, Mara would have joined in on whatever scheme Tegan had conjured.
Garth brightened upon hearing Tegan’s punishment, but now he tried to see past Mara, to figure out who stood in the shadows behind her.
“Is that you, Karigan?”
Karigan squeezed past Mara. “Hello.”
Garth barrelled over and wrapped his thick arms around her. Air
whooshed
from her lungs as he lifted her off her feet and planted a kiss on her cheek. When he set her down, Tegan hugged her in turn. Dale finally collected herself and stood to pat Karigan on the shoulder.
“Good to see you looking lively. Compared to last night, anyway.”
Karigan grinned, a bit breathless and genuinely happy to see them, too, but when they launched into a thousand questions about her journey, she found herself backing away, overwhelmed. It was Mara who came to her rescue.
“Leave off the poor woman—she hasn’t even had breakfast yet.” Turning to Dale, she said, “Don’t you have someplace to go?”
Dale straightened. “Right!” She patted the message satchel slung over her shoulder. “We’ll catch up later,” she told Karigan, and she dashed off on whatever message errand had been assigned her.
Garth gave Karigan another, albeit less crushing, hug, before lumbering off to change his uniform.
“Good to see you, Karigan,” Tegan said, and she slipped away down the corridor.
“Laundry!” Mara called after her.
“I know, I know . . .” her voice trailed back.
“That was quite a welcome,” Karigan said, thinking she had never received one quite like it when returning from an ordinary message errand.
“They’re very glad to see you in one piece,” Mara said. “It’s been rather gloomy here ever since we heard about Ereal and Bard. I’m fairly certain Tegan is up to her old tricks just to lighten things up.”
They left the common room and walked the central corridor that ran the length of the narrow barracks building. To Karigan, the building had an abandoned air about it, but that was often the case with only a few Riders in residence at any one time.
Still, even if all the Riders were present, the majority of the rooms would go unused. Karigan wondered what the place had been like in the old days when every room was occupied. How busy this corridor must have been back then. Its plank flooring was worn from the boots of two centuries of Riders.
 
Mara was determined, Karigan found, that she eat every last crumb—which wasn’t difficult considering the flat-cakes were piled with freshly picked blueberries. She discovered she was famished and had to chew consciously before swallowing.
Two people were a crowd in her room—an over-glorified closet, really—but she was glad of the company. While she ate, Mara took the opportunity to fill her in on a few months’ worth of Rider gossip.
She was about to launch into tales about Yates’ latest conquests when Karigan interrupted. “How is Ty doing?”
“Dark and moody. So I sent him on an errand to Adolind and Mirwell. On Crane.” She half smiled. “I think we have a match. Ereal would have been pleased.”
Karigan was glad. Ty had never been known to be jovial, and he was hurting. He and Crane must have bonded enough on their ride here from the clearing to be still working together.
“How about you? How are you doing?”
“Me?” Mara tipped the teapot and poured herself another cup. “Helping the captain mainly, what with Connly off to the Cloud Islands bearing trade documents.” Connly was Chief Rider, and ordinarily it was his duty to oversee the day to day operations of the Riders. The fact he had been sent on a far distant errand spoke of how short-staffed they were. “And of course, Ereal is gone now, too.”
“So, not only have you been the acting Chief Rider, but you’ve been doing Ereal’s job, as well?”
Mara blew on her tea and shrugged. “I was the most senior Rider left. When Connly comes home, I think the captain is of a mind to elevate him to lieutenant. I wish he’d hurry up!”
Then she heaved another tired sigh. “The king runs the captain ragged, but she won’t confide in me the way she used to with Ereal. I think she doesn’t want to overburden me.”
That sounded just like the captain, Karigan thought. But it was her job to carry the heaviest of responsibilities, and Mara already had enough of her own to contend with in light of Connly’s absence and Ereal’s death. Captain Mapstone was doing what one should in her position, but it was not a load anyone could carry alone for too long.
“I expect you’ll want to know Alton left some weeks ago for the wall,” Mara said.
Alton!
“The wall? Why?”
“He and his clan kept requesting it, and finally Captain Mapstone and the king relented—another reason we’re short-staffed, by the way. The king believes it a good idea to have a Rider at the wall, keeping an eye on things for him.”
Karigan tried to hide her disappointment, but she couldn’t conceal her concern about the wall. Mara’s news filled her with foreboding. “So the cracks are still spreading?”
Mara nodded and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Word is the D’Yers can’t figure out how to stop the cracks. They can’t even figure out how to access the towers, which are magically sealed or something. The clan thinks that because Alton has a special ability, he might be able to figure out things for them.” She shrugged, obviously skeptical. “I suppose he’s as close as anyone to understanding the magic.”
A new layer of gloom settled on Karigan’s shoulders. Telagioth had been right, it seemed, the wall needed watching. But watching didn’t seem as if it was going to be enough. And now her friend, Alton D’Yer, was going to be in the middle of it.
“That’s pretty,” Mara said.
Startled from her thoughts, Karigan followed her gaze to a bowl of crystalline shards on her table. Sunlight flowed through the window in such a way that the crystal fragments sparkled and reflected a rainbow of color against the plain wall.
The shards were all that remained of an Eletian moonstone that had been given her, its moonbeam long gone. She wasn’t sure why she kept the shards, except that they retained their own particular beauty, and even now their play of light and color soothed her. It also served to remind her of the kindness of two elderly ladies who lived in a stately manor in the forest. She kept their other two gifts, a bunch-berry flower and a sprig of bayberry, pressed in her favorite book.
Mara started clearing dishes and piling them onto her tray. She was about to carry it out when she paused and patted her shortcoat.
“I nearly forgot. Two letters came in for you while you were away.” She pulled them from an inner pocket and dropped them on the table. “Osric carried the one from Selium, and the other came in via the merchants guild.”
Mara took the tray and paused again in the doorway. “One more thing. Captain says you are to speak with her when you are able.”
KING JONAEUS’ SPRING

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