Firebrand
Page 243
It was not easy being singled out in front of the others, but Anna had stepped into the middle of their circle on shaky legs, thinking she had better get used to scary things if she was to become a Rider. And a Rider she was to be. She had signed her papers the day before. The queen said she was sorry to lose her, but was also happy for her. Since Anna didn’t have a brooch to dictate how long she stayed a messenger, the capt—colonel—said they’d try it for a year, and if everything worked out, she could stay on longer.
When the announcement was made, there was some clapping, surprise, and bemusement among the other Riders. Gil clapped the loudest. Afterward, most came to congratulate and welcome her, and wish her good luck, even the ones whom she hadn’t met before. It was hard to tell exactly what they thought. They were a special group, the Riders, magically called to serve, and they had abilities that, though kept secret, separated them from ordinary folk like her. Most Sacoridians hated and feared magic, which made the Riders even more tightly bound to one another, and she, lacking any magic whatsoever, was an interloper, an outsider.
“You see,” Gil told her, “it all worked out!”
“I see,” she said.
What she saw at the moment were the captain’s medals, Mara’s burn scars, and the glass overhead depicting the First Rider at war. Even Gil had had his share of excitement just in the process of answering the call. Did she have courage enough to be one among them? Would she faint in the face of danger as she had with the aureas slee? She felt lightheaded just thinking about it.
“Why don’t you look happy?” Gil asked. “Second thoughts?”
She nodded. “What have I got myself into?”
He leaned close and whispered, “Know what you mean. I try not to think about it much.” He glanced toward Mara. “Some pretty nasty things can happen to a Rider, but same for anyone else, really. A fisherman, for instance, can face a lot of danger. Did I ever tell you about the time I got this huge hook stuck through my hand? It happened while we was long-lining for saberfish.”
In that moment, as Gil showed her his scar and told her the details of his injury, she realized that danger came in many forms, and not just to Green Riders. As Gil continued to tell her more grisly tales of his time at sea, she thought maybe it was better to be a Green Rider than a fisherman.
She looked around at the assembled Riders, observed their ease with one another, their camaraderie. She could rely on these people, she thought, for anything. The colonel had described them as a “family,” and Anna realized that despite the possibility of danger, she had truly come home.
OATHBREAKERS
“This does not seem like an especially auspicious start,” Karigan said. Condor pawed the ground beneath her.
“You have an uncanny knack for understatement, Galadheon,” Enver replied.
The two of them were surrounded by shining bronze speartips wielded by rather angry-looking p’ehdrose. Some of the speartips were just inches from her heart and throat. She and Enver had used a hidden entrance to the valley of the p’ehdrose, hidden similarly to the Eletian ways, but it required her special ability to allow them to pass.
When they crossed the threshold, the lush valley opened up before them, bisected by a lake and a chain of ponds and wetlands that were segmented by beaver dams and dotted with the piles of sticks that were the beavers’ lodges. Onshore were clusters of longhouses and other signs of civilization. They had not gotten far when this group of p’ehdrose appeared. They were males and females, and large, forbidding, and silent. They towered over even mounted riders. They wore loose woolen garments over their upper, muscular, human halves. It appeared to Karigan that their human hips melded into moose shoulders. One could not say, however, that their upper halves were entirely human. Some had moose ears that swiveled to catch every sound, and brown hide that encroached as far as their necks and into their faces. Some of those faces were decidedly long with wide, flat noses. A dewlap hung beneath the jaw of one male, and nubs of antlers grew from the skulls of others.
They gazed at the intruders with large brown eyes that were fierce in their regard. At first they had looked more curious and cautious than hostile, but then one had pointed at the Black Shield insignia on Karigan’s sleeve, and that was when their attitude had changed.
She decided to try again. She raised her empty hands and said, “My name is Sir Karigan G’ladheon. I am a Green Rider from the realm of Sacoridia. My companion is Enver of Eletia. We come in friendship with greetings from our leaders. We wish to speak with your chieftain, Ghallos.” Only because of her travel into the future did she know his name.
There was movement among the p’ehdrose, and suddenly they rushed in, crowding Condor and Mist. They removed Karigan’s saber from her saddle sheath and disarmed Enver. One of the p’ehdrose placed a curly horn to his lips, much like the horn of the Green Riders, and blew three sharp notes that rang out and echoed among the hills that cradled the valley. They bumped and pushed Condor and Mist into a headlong gallop down into the valley, packed in their midst. The pounding was excruciating to Karigan’s back, and her balance was not what it had once been, but she held on, gritting her teeth all the way.
When they reached the valley floor, they were pulled back to a walk and taken into the habitation she had seen from above, a primitive village of tall huts and longhouses. More p’ehdrose, young and old, emerged to watch. Off in the distance, woolly horned creatures she believed to be komara beasts grazed on marsh grass.
When the announcement was made, there was some clapping, surprise, and bemusement among the other Riders. Gil clapped the loudest. Afterward, most came to congratulate and welcome her, and wish her good luck, even the ones whom she hadn’t met before. It was hard to tell exactly what they thought. They were a special group, the Riders, magically called to serve, and they had abilities that, though kept secret, separated them from ordinary folk like her. Most Sacoridians hated and feared magic, which made the Riders even more tightly bound to one another, and she, lacking any magic whatsoever, was an interloper, an outsider.
“You see,” Gil told her, “it all worked out!”
“I see,” she said.
What she saw at the moment were the captain’s medals, Mara’s burn scars, and the glass overhead depicting the First Rider at war. Even Gil had had his share of excitement just in the process of answering the call. Did she have courage enough to be one among them? Would she faint in the face of danger as she had with the aureas slee? She felt lightheaded just thinking about it.
“Why don’t you look happy?” Gil asked. “Second thoughts?”
She nodded. “What have I got myself into?”
He leaned close and whispered, “Know what you mean. I try not to think about it much.” He glanced toward Mara. “Some pretty nasty things can happen to a Rider, but same for anyone else, really. A fisherman, for instance, can face a lot of danger. Did I ever tell you about the time I got this huge hook stuck through my hand? It happened while we was long-lining for saberfish.”
In that moment, as Gil showed her his scar and told her the details of his injury, she realized that danger came in many forms, and not just to Green Riders. As Gil continued to tell her more grisly tales of his time at sea, she thought maybe it was better to be a Green Rider than a fisherman.
She looked around at the assembled Riders, observed their ease with one another, their camaraderie. She could rely on these people, she thought, for anything. The colonel had described them as a “family,” and Anna realized that despite the possibility of danger, she had truly come home.
OATHBREAKERS
“This does not seem like an especially auspicious start,” Karigan said. Condor pawed the ground beneath her.
“You have an uncanny knack for understatement, Galadheon,” Enver replied.
The two of them were surrounded by shining bronze speartips wielded by rather angry-looking p’ehdrose. Some of the speartips were just inches from her heart and throat. She and Enver had used a hidden entrance to the valley of the p’ehdrose, hidden similarly to the Eletian ways, but it required her special ability to allow them to pass.
When they crossed the threshold, the lush valley opened up before them, bisected by a lake and a chain of ponds and wetlands that were segmented by beaver dams and dotted with the piles of sticks that were the beavers’ lodges. Onshore were clusters of longhouses and other signs of civilization. They had not gotten far when this group of p’ehdrose appeared. They were males and females, and large, forbidding, and silent. They towered over even mounted riders. They wore loose woolen garments over their upper, muscular, human halves. It appeared to Karigan that their human hips melded into moose shoulders. One could not say, however, that their upper halves were entirely human. Some had moose ears that swiveled to catch every sound, and brown hide that encroached as far as their necks and into their faces. Some of those faces were decidedly long with wide, flat noses. A dewlap hung beneath the jaw of one male, and nubs of antlers grew from the skulls of others.
They gazed at the intruders with large brown eyes that were fierce in their regard. At first they had looked more curious and cautious than hostile, but then one had pointed at the Black Shield insignia on Karigan’s sleeve, and that was when their attitude had changed.
She decided to try again. She raised her empty hands and said, “My name is Sir Karigan G’ladheon. I am a Green Rider from the realm of Sacoridia. My companion is Enver of Eletia. We come in friendship with greetings from our leaders. We wish to speak with your chieftain, Ghallos.” Only because of her travel into the future did she know his name.
There was movement among the p’ehdrose, and suddenly they rushed in, crowding Condor and Mist. They removed Karigan’s saber from her saddle sheath and disarmed Enver. One of the p’ehdrose placed a curly horn to his lips, much like the horn of the Green Riders, and blew three sharp notes that rang out and echoed among the hills that cradled the valley. They bumped and pushed Condor and Mist into a headlong gallop down into the valley, packed in their midst. The pounding was excruciating to Karigan’s back, and her balance was not what it had once been, but she held on, gritting her teeth all the way.
When they reached the valley floor, they were pulled back to a walk and taken into the habitation she had seen from above, a primitive village of tall huts and longhouses. More p’ehdrose, young and old, emerged to watch. Off in the distance, woolly horned creatures she believed to be komara beasts grazed on marsh grass.
