When the session finally ended, Karigan remained spread-eagle on the floor gazing up at the ceiling. She breathed hard, feeling bruised and battered. She was not so keen on the whole swordmaster thing at the moment, and all she could think of was soaking in a tub of very hot water. However, that would require standing, and she was not sure that she could.
Molly offered her a hand up, but Karigan said, “Thank you, but I think I’ll examine the ceiling for a few more minutes.”
Molly smiled. “Don’t worry. It’ll get better. I thought I’d die in the first month.”
Month? A whole month? Karigan’s face must have betrayed her dismay, for Molly chuckled.
“It will get better,” she said as she walked away. “You’ll see.”
“Right.” Karigan stayed where she was, thinking that Cade would find this all very amusing.
THE SECOND SWORD
When Karigan finally gathered the courage to rise from the floor, she brushed sawdust off her uniform and headed to the weapons room to return the sword to Drent. The room, with its racks of swords, pikes, knives, daggers, and staves, smelled of leather, oil, and sweat.
“Bring your own sword next time,” Drent said.
“I will.”
“And I am to remind you to see your captain now.” A haunted look crept into his features. “Then it is my turn.”
“Your turn?”
He nodded. “The heavens save me, yes.” He bent to work, honing a blade, and muttered to himself.
Thus dismissed, Karigan grabbed her greatcoat from a hook. It hurt her abused muscles just to pull it on. She trudged out into the cold, wishing she could clean up before reporting to the captain, but she was to go directly, sweat, sawdust, bruises, and all.
When she reached officers quarters and the captain called, “Come!” at her knock, she straightened her uniform best as she could and entered. The captain glanced up from the other side of her work table.
“Well,” the captain said, giving her a long, hard look. “It appears you’ve been at sword training. Did they use you as a quintain?”
Karigan grimaced. “Actually, sort of.”
The captain smiled. “Have a seat and rest while we talk.”
Karigan pulled a stool up to the table and sat, trying not to cry out as her sore body protested every movement.
“I suppose congratulations are in order,” the captain said, “or perhaps sympathy?”
“I am leaning toward sympathy at the moment.”
“You know, if you prefer not to continue at that level of training, I can terminate your sessions when I speak to Drent later.”
Oh, gods, yes, Karigan thought, but what came out of her mouth was, “Thank you, Captain, but I’ve come this far, so I’d like to continue.”
The captain looked amused. “Very well. Let me know if you change your mind. Swordmaster training, after all, is not regular Rider duty.”
Karigan nodded.
“I have also been informed—” and here a slight frown tugged at the corners of the captain’s mouth, “—that the Weapons have formalized your honorary status with them. I suppose it could be useful, as you can now venture into the tombs when we might have business there, as you will later this afternoon. What the Weapons may have in mind for you is harder to ascertain, if even they know.” She shrugged. “Your first duty, of course, is to serve the king as a Green Rider while you still hear the call.”
“I understand.”
“I know you do, but I felt it needed to be aired. No doubt about it, but your swordmaster status brings honor to the Green Riders.” She leaned back into her chair, legs crossed at the ankles, and she gazed levelly at Karigan. “I did not ask you to see me, however, just to discuss swordmaster training.”
Karigan straightened. Might her captain need a message to go out? It would do her good to get off castle grounds, out of the city.
“It seems,” the captain continued, “the Eletians are interested in searching for the p’ehdrosians.”
“What? Really?”
The captain nodded. “According to the king, they became very interested after we found the four-fold leaf in the stained glass and spotted the p’ehdrosians in the backdrop of one of the panels. They became even more interested—and I’ll admit I did, too—after you and Lhean returned from the future time.”
The stuffed specimens of p’ehdrose Karigan and Lhean had seen in the future were proof that they still existed, but where in the world did one begin looking for a people who had hidden themselves so well for a thousand years?
“Interestingly,” the captain continued, “they are willing to provide a guide to go in search of the p’ehdrose if we send one of our own along, specifically you.”
“What? Why me?”
The captain crooked an eyebrow.
Once Karigan got over her initial surprise, she said, “All right, I guess I know why. They’ve gotten used to me.” It was, she thought, a dubious distinction.
“The king and I guess as much,” the captain said. “But you know how they are; they never come out and directly state their intentions.”
“No, they don’t,” Karigan murmured. “When do they plan to start the search?”
“You should know the king has not decided absolutely to go along with this, though he is leaning toward approving it. He is curious about the p’ehdrosians and wonders if they might be allies in the fight against Second Empire. So, if it does happen, you will be in a diplomatic role. Providing you actually find the p’ehdrosians, of course.”