First Rider's Call
Page 95
To make matters worse, she lost her balance and landed face down on one of the straw pallets beneath the beam. The soldiers who had been watching laughed uproariously. This is what they had been waiting for.
“What’s wrong with you?” Drent demanded again. “My granny could do jigs around you on that beam.”
Then let her, Karigan thought sourly. She had had enough of these humiliating sessions. They were putting her into fine trim, but enough was enough. One of these days she was going to let Drent know just what she—
“On your feet,” he ordered.
With a groan she obeyed. It felt like a chisel was hammering against her skull. Was he going to make her run now that he had abused her legs?
“This Green Foot runner is here for you,” Drent said.
Her eyes registered the young girl in the green uniform who goggled at the arms master. Holly, she thought, was the girl’s name.
“Yes?” Karigan asked.
Holly’s eyes were just as big when they shifted to Karigan.
“Ma’am, Rider Brennyn requests you to attend the king in his study, to receive message errands. She is just now tied up in a meeting.”
Karigan nodded wearily. “Thank you.”
The girl ran off, and Karigan made to follow.
“We will finish this tomorrow promptly at nine hour,” Drent said.
Karigan was glad her back was to him so he couldn’t see her expression of dismay.
She hurried to barracks for a quick wash-up and change of uniform. One didn’t wear a work tunic to attend the king.
Karigan decided to cut through the courtyard gardens to reach the west wing. The king’s study, once Queen Isen’s solarium, was at ground level and looked out onto the gardens. Karigan had been there once before, but had not known what room it was at the time, for she had been seeking entrance to the castle—any entrance—in stealth and darkness, the night of Prince Amilton’s coup attempt.
That far-off memory was another lifetime ago, and as she hopped across the stepping stones of the trout pond in the brightness of morning, she was amazed at how great the contrast from those dire circumstances two years ago to today’s summons from the king.
It was quite a while since she had last seen King Zachary, and she found herself anticipating the meeting. She paused on the last stepping stone.
Ugh. For a very long time, she had refused to acknowledge certain . . . longings where the king was concerned, finding such feelings impossible at best. Who was she to think the king would ever . . . ?
No, no, it wasn’t even worth bringing to the fore. It was all impossible. He was royalty, she was not even noble, and that was enough to create an unbridgeable gap between them. This was how she suppressed her feelings for him, but her heart did not always obey her head.
Bear up, she ordered herself. It was best she saw him as infrequently as she did. The distance made her feelings for him easier to contend with.
She lifted her foot to step onto the pond’s embankment, when something jarred her, as if alien memories were being rammed into her mind.
. . . Crossing a court square blossoming with flowers in the sunshine that God poured from the heavens. The plash of fountains ornamented with fantastical creatures lent the square music. Framing the square were the buildings of the Empire’s might—the exchequer, the protectionist, lords of the nation, the God House. The buildings were both all at once precise and forbidding in their architecture, and yet uplifting.
Peacocks strutted across the square with their tail feathers fanned. Persons of refined sensibilities lingered in the square chatting and walking slowly, followed by slaves bearing sun shades. Alessandros looked upon the scene with great contentment and would himself have liked to linger, but the Emperor had summoned him and—and—
“Karigan?” Someone jostled her.
“Hunh?”
“Are you all right?” Lady Estora asked.
“I—” Karigan gazed at her, stunned. “What? Where was I?”
Estora looked her up and down. “Far away I dare say, though you haven’t moved an inch. I thought you had turned into a statue for a moment.”
Karigan’s arm, her left arm, was numb. She rubbed it, trying to bring life into it again.
“I just had a memory. No, that’s not quite right. I don’t remember it as my memory.”
“How very strange. A daydream, perhaps?” Estora smiled kindly at her befuddledness.
“No. Yes. I guess that must be it. It has to be.”
An awkward silence fell between them until Estora asked, “Have you time for a chat? It’s a lovely day.”
The bell down in the city rang out. That would make it eleven hour.
“The king!” Karigan said. “I’ve been summoned. I can’t stay.”
Lady Estora nodded in understanding. “No, you must not keep the king waiting.”
Karigan was sorry she couldn’t join Estora, for her additional duties had left her little time to visit with her. It had been ages since last they sat and chatted. But the lady was right—she couldn’t keep the king waiting.
She sprinted down garden paths past courtiers who glared at her for disrupting their tranquil, leisurely walks, her footsteps bringing her to a skidding halt outside the king’s study, where two Weapons stood on duty. She straightened her shortcoat and cleared her throat.
“The king wished to see me,” she said.
“He’s meeting with someone at the moment,” said Erin, one of the Weapons, “but I don’t think he’ll object if you enter.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Drent demanded again. “My granny could do jigs around you on that beam.”
Then let her, Karigan thought sourly. She had had enough of these humiliating sessions. They were putting her into fine trim, but enough was enough. One of these days she was going to let Drent know just what she—
“On your feet,” he ordered.
With a groan she obeyed. It felt like a chisel was hammering against her skull. Was he going to make her run now that he had abused her legs?
“This Green Foot runner is here for you,” Drent said.
Her eyes registered the young girl in the green uniform who goggled at the arms master. Holly, she thought, was the girl’s name.
“Yes?” Karigan asked.
Holly’s eyes were just as big when they shifted to Karigan.
“Ma’am, Rider Brennyn requests you to attend the king in his study, to receive message errands. She is just now tied up in a meeting.”
Karigan nodded wearily. “Thank you.”
The girl ran off, and Karigan made to follow.
“We will finish this tomorrow promptly at nine hour,” Drent said.
Karigan was glad her back was to him so he couldn’t see her expression of dismay.
She hurried to barracks for a quick wash-up and change of uniform. One didn’t wear a work tunic to attend the king.
Karigan decided to cut through the courtyard gardens to reach the west wing. The king’s study, once Queen Isen’s solarium, was at ground level and looked out onto the gardens. Karigan had been there once before, but had not known what room it was at the time, for she had been seeking entrance to the castle—any entrance—in stealth and darkness, the night of Prince Amilton’s coup attempt.
That far-off memory was another lifetime ago, and as she hopped across the stepping stones of the trout pond in the brightness of morning, she was amazed at how great the contrast from those dire circumstances two years ago to today’s summons from the king.
It was quite a while since she had last seen King Zachary, and she found herself anticipating the meeting. She paused on the last stepping stone.
Ugh. For a very long time, she had refused to acknowledge certain . . . longings where the king was concerned, finding such feelings impossible at best. Who was she to think the king would ever . . . ?
No, no, it wasn’t even worth bringing to the fore. It was all impossible. He was royalty, she was not even noble, and that was enough to create an unbridgeable gap between them. This was how she suppressed her feelings for him, but her heart did not always obey her head.
Bear up, she ordered herself. It was best she saw him as infrequently as she did. The distance made her feelings for him easier to contend with.
She lifted her foot to step onto the pond’s embankment, when something jarred her, as if alien memories were being rammed into her mind.
. . . Crossing a court square blossoming with flowers in the sunshine that God poured from the heavens. The plash of fountains ornamented with fantastical creatures lent the square music. Framing the square were the buildings of the Empire’s might—the exchequer, the protectionist, lords of the nation, the God House. The buildings were both all at once precise and forbidding in their architecture, and yet uplifting.
Peacocks strutted across the square with their tail feathers fanned. Persons of refined sensibilities lingered in the square chatting and walking slowly, followed by slaves bearing sun shades. Alessandros looked upon the scene with great contentment and would himself have liked to linger, but the Emperor had summoned him and—and—
“Karigan?” Someone jostled her.
“Hunh?”
“Are you all right?” Lady Estora asked.
“I—” Karigan gazed at her, stunned. “What? Where was I?”
Estora looked her up and down. “Far away I dare say, though you haven’t moved an inch. I thought you had turned into a statue for a moment.”
Karigan’s arm, her left arm, was numb. She rubbed it, trying to bring life into it again.
“I just had a memory. No, that’s not quite right. I don’t remember it as my memory.”
“How very strange. A daydream, perhaps?” Estora smiled kindly at her befuddledness.
“No. Yes. I guess that must be it. It has to be.”
An awkward silence fell between them until Estora asked, “Have you time for a chat? It’s a lovely day.”
The bell down in the city rang out. That would make it eleven hour.
“The king!” Karigan said. “I’ve been summoned. I can’t stay.”
Lady Estora nodded in understanding. “No, you must not keep the king waiting.”
Karigan was sorry she couldn’t join Estora, for her additional duties had left her little time to visit with her. It had been ages since last they sat and chatted. But the lady was right—she couldn’t keep the king waiting.
She sprinted down garden paths past courtiers who glared at her for disrupting their tranquil, leisurely walks, her footsteps bringing her to a skidding halt outside the king’s study, where two Weapons stood on duty. She straightened her shortcoat and cleared her throat.
“The king wished to see me,” she said.
“He’s meeting with someone at the moment,” said Erin, one of the Weapons, “but I don’t think he’ll object if you enter.”
