First Rider's Call (33 page)

 

Karigan was pulling on a boot when Captain Mapstone appeared in the doorway.

“Glad to see you up and about.”

“Thank you,” Karigan said. “I was just about to come report to you.”

“Do you feel up to a little walk?”

The question surprised Karigan, but it took her only a moment to respond. “Yes.”

She draped her greatcoat over her arm and followed the captain into the corridor. They passed through the mending wing, Captain Mapstone asking her a few polite questions about how she felt. The mending wing had a subduing, sober atmosphere. It was very quiet, with thick carpets underfoot to muffle sound, and many hangings on the walls featuring pastoral scenes. They encountered a few menders in the corridor, and a soldier hobbling along on crutches.

To Karigan’s surprise, the captain did not turn down the stairway that led to the main floor of the castle. Instead, she turned right as they exited the mending wing.

“Where are we going?” Karigan asked.

Again, the half-smile. “Since you have spent so much time in dark abandoned corridors, I thought you’d like to see the castle from a new perspective.”

Intrigued, Karigan gave the captain a sideways look, but she seemed content to keep their destination to herself.

As they walked, the carpeting grew more plush, with intricate designs that could only be Durnesian. Large portraits hanging on the walls depicted fine noble ladies and gentlemen, some wearing armor and royal crowns. Along the walls were chairs with velvet cushions, and small tables with fresh-cut flowers arranged in vases. Lamp fixtures were golden and glittering. There were marble busts, too, of princes and princesses, kings and queens.

This was the west side of the castle they had entered, which contained meeting rooms and offices for the king’s personal staff, all hidden behind ornate oak doors. Guards stood at attention at intervals along the corridor, their leather and metal gear at high polish.

Well-dressed persons passed them, some in earnest discussion over some matter, others hastening on to wherever they needed to go. A few military officers mixed in with the civilians, nodding to the captain as they passed by.

Karigan had never been in this section of the castle before, though she had heard enough about it from Mara, whose recently acquired duties had her here on occasion. Captain Mapstone appeared very familiar with it.

They came to a pair of grand doors. Carved in relief upon them was a crescent moon hanging above the spires of evergreens. Two Weapons guarded the doors.

“The king’s apartments lie beyond,” Captain Mapstone said.

To Karigan’s disappointment, they weren’t going through those doors, but past them. She found herself imagining what those halls must be like—they had to be far more luxurious than even this corridor they now walked. She wondered what it was like for the king having all that space to himself. Was he lonely? There must be a great hall for dining and gatherings, a nursery for children, parlors and dens, probably a personal library, not to mention sleeping chambers.

Perhaps much of his private apartments was like the abandoned corridors—left in darkness by lack of need. Karigan found herself feeling sorry for the king, that he hadn’t any close family members with whom to share all that space.

Soon the king’s doors fell well behind them, and Captain Mapstone turned a corner into a stairwell and started climbing. They kept climbing, spiraling to the highest floor of the castle, of which there were five levels, if one didn’t count the tombs far beneath.

They passed through a wrought iron door into a small chamber, and another flight of stone stairs appeared, leading upward to yet another door. Karigan glanced questioningly at the captain, but the captain merely jogged up the steps to the door. When Karigan joined her, she smiled and opened it. Sunlight and fresh air rushed in, and Karigan took in a deep breath, sighing.

“Welcome to the top of the castle,” Captain Mapstone said.

They stepped out onto the battlements. A soldier on guard near the door greeted the captain when he saw who it was.

“They don’t let just anyone up here,” the captain informed Karigan with a smile.

Karigan, reveling in the freedom of the open air about her, whirled around and around. She took in the network of battlements and guard towers, busy with soldiers. It was almost like a whole other city up here in the sky. The castle sat atop a high hill, and being on top of the castle was like standing among the clouds.

Captain Mapstone followed along as Karigan explored, her curiosity leading her to look over the edge of the battlements to gaze down at the west castle grounds, and southward into Sacor City. The city’s buildings sprawled out before her, edged by avenues that ran between them. The Winding Way curved away from the castle entrance through shops and homes and passed between the city walls.

As the city had expanded over the generations, new walls were built to protect the population, so now there were three walls, including the one that encircled the castle. Their gates were deliberately not aligned, for defensive purposes, just as the Winding Way traveled a circuitous route to confound an invading army.

Carts and carriages and people down on the Winding Way were very much toy-sized, and in the distance, ant-sized. Captain Mapstone had brought her up here for a different perspective, and it certainly was. Usually Karigan only got to look up at the castle, but here she got to look down on the world.

She saw features of the castle up close that she had only viewed from a distance, such as the waterspouts carved into shapes of fierce catamounts and bears, eagles and fish. Rainwater flowed along a miniature canal system of gutters on the battlements, and drained through the mouths of the stone animals. From there the water poured into catch-basins down below, where yet another drainage system of underground aqueducts allowed the water to empty into the moat. In times of siege, the flow could be diverted to the castle’s cisterns if other sources of water dried up.

The drainage system was as ingenious as it was intricate, and with good reason. Alton had once told her that a stone structure’s greatest enemy was water, especially when it froze and thawed. With a nod to Alton, she made sure she looked over the drainage system with admiring eyes.

The strangest structure atop the castle was an enclosed dome on a platform. “What’s that?” Karigan asked, pointing.

“The king’s observatory. It houses a large telescope so he may watch the stars.”

Karigan glanced at the captain incredulously. “Have you ever looked through it?”

Captain Mapstone chuckled. “I’ve been invited, but I never liked the idea of coming eye to eye with Aeryc or one of the other gods peering back at me. The king often hosts star masters to watch the night sky and chart the movements of the heavens.”

Invigorated by the fresh air and sunshine, and vastly impressed by this uppermost level of the castle, Karigan leaned contentedly against a crenel and looked down into the city and toward the green patchwork of farmland beyond.

Captain Mapstone turned her back to the vista, and leaned upon a crenel of her own, gazing at Karigan. Karigan gathered that the leisurely aspect of this little expedition was over, and that Captain Mapstone was ready to hear explanations.

Sure enough, she said, “Mara and Fastion told me they found you deep in the abandoned corridors yesterday afternoon, in a room Fastion had never seen before, and he claims he knows those corridors pretty well. Mara said you were faded out—beyond faded. And that you were incoherent. What were you doing back there?”

Karigan watched a gull glide by on the thermals. She took a deep breath, and launched into her story, beginning with the day she had witnessed the disappearing footprints in the abandoned corridor. She linked it to the realization she was seeing a future vision of herself.

She almost listened to her own story in disbelief, of how she followed a tiny light into the dark, only to witness visions of the past. Standing here now in the bright, open air, she could only feel she had been overcome by some temporary madness. However, when she told of seeing the young Laren Mapstone and Zachary, the captain’s eyes widened. She stroked her neck scar.

“That . . . That actually happened. I remember that incident just the way you’ve described it. You speak truth.”

Karigan was rattled by the captain’s intensity.

“I’ve not called him a ‘moonling’ in years,” the captain murmured.

Karigan thought there was more underlying the captain’s reaction—unhappiness, distress.

Karigan jerked her gaze about wondering who had spoken the words, but no one else was nearby.

She decided it must have been her own thought, but she wondered about the word “gift.” Did it refer to the captain’s special ability? If so, it was not a word she, or anyone she knew of, used to describe a magical ability.

Karigan shrugged and continued her tale. She described seeing the bier of King Agates Sealender and listening in on the conversation between the castellan and the priest. As she spoke, she felt strongly that someone else watched and listened, but none of the soldiers were near enough to hear a word, and none looked their way. Then she sensed a presence just beyond Captain Mapstone, and in a blink, it was gone.

“Something wrong?” the captain asked.

Karigan hadn’t realized she’d let her story trail off. She shook her head. “N-no. I—I don’t know.”

Captain Mapstone raised an eyebrow.

Karigan began to wonder if one of Dakrias Brown’s ghosts had followed her from the records room, but she shuddered it away, and began telling the captain the rest of her incredible story. The ending became a bit jumbled, as Karigan had been unable to distinguish past from present, or present from future at the time.

When she finished, Captain Mapstone turned toward the vista, folding her hands atop the crenel. She was silent for many moments.

Finally she spoke. “I’m not sure what to make of your tale, but every part of it rings true.” Here she hesitated, and Karigan thought she was about to reveal something, but instead she simply continued. “It’s extraordinary, Karigan, to see what you’ve seen, to see our history—the
First Rider
even.” And here she smiled. “I’d have loved to be in your boots.”

Karigan rocked back on her heels, stunned. She hadn’t looked upon the traveling as a privilege, but as an extremely strange and frightening experience.

“Tell me again,” the captain said, “what did she look like? How did she act?”

Karigan thought hard, trying to recall all the details she could, amazed by the expression of delight on the captain’s face.

After she finished, there was another long silence. The captain grew distant as she continued to gaze out to the horizon. She rubbed her chin with her forefinger.

“I cannot even begin to guess what brought this experience upon you. It has a tang of the Wild Ride.”

The Wild Ride had allowed Karigan to travel a great distance in a very short time. “There were no ghosts this time, and I didn’t really cover a distance.”

“Not a physical distance,” the captain said.

“The feeling was different. With the Wild Ride, I felt carried away by the ghosts. This time I felt pulled by . . . I don’t know.”

Captain Mapstone shrugged. “I guess we’ll never truly understand any of it, but you seem to have an extra dimension to your ability, of being able to slip between the layers of the world.”

Karigan didn’t know what to say. Whatever caused the traveling, it wasn’t something she had control over.

“Report to me,” the captain said, “if anything remotely like this ever happens again.” Then she grinned. “Perhaps you’ll be able to fill in the missing gaps of our history. I don’t ever recall hearing of Mornhavon’s friend—”

“Hadriax,” Karigan filled in. “Hadriax el Fex.”

“Yes.” The grin vanished. “I’m going to tell you that yours is not the only strange story I’ve heard recently. You may have heard some of the rumors.”

“About D’Ivary Province?”

The captain frowned. “No, that’s not what I was alluding to, though it is a matter consuming much of the king’s attention these days.”

Karigan thought she detected some deep sadness within the captain.

“No, I meant tales brought to us from folk in the countryside. One such was of an entire forest grove turned to stone in Wayman.”

Yes, Karigan had heard rumors of this, but when the captain told her of the game warden’s report, she found the rumors hadn’t been too far off the mark.

“There is also talk of something haunting the western fringes of the Green Cloak,” the captain continued, “a dark presence that freezes the souls of men and frightens the forest creatures into silence.”

Karigan shuddered involuntarily. “The wraith from the clearing?” She had avoided thinking about it, hoping the nightmare creature would simply evaporate into the ether.

“Who’s to say? I just want you to be aware that there are unexplained things going on, and to be watchful. I’ve already discussed this with Mara. With the king’s attention focused on D’Ivary, someone has to be paying attention to these oddities. Most people just see them as superstition, or isolated occurrences. I don’t.”

“I don’t think I do either,” Karigan said.

The captain put her hand on her shoulder and sighed, as if relieved by her support. “Maybe it only makes sense to those of us who use magic.”

Without another word, the captain strode away toward the door that led back into the castle. Karigan hesitated before following, taking in one more grand view of the countryside, wondering what force was at work out there.