First Rider's Call

There was color in the captain’s cheeks, gaunt though they were. She was too thin and there were hollows beneath her eyes. But the eyes were bright and snapping, full of life. The last time Karigan had seen her, those very same eyes had been dull and pain-filled.

“Yes.”

“How are you feeling?” the captain asked.

“Captain, I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

Karigan thrust a strand of hair behind her ear. “The things I accused you of. I shouted at you, and you weren’t well. I don’t know what got into me. I—”

“That’s true enough.” The captain gazed off into the distance for a moment, stroking the scar on her neck, as if recalling the unpleasantness. “However, I left you and Mara in a very difficult situation. In fact, more difficult than usual, and I would have to say you’ve done very well under the circumstances.” Her eyes twinkled. “I’ve never seen the Rider accounts look so good.”

Karigan glanced down at her feet, glad of the captain’s approval.

“In fact,” the captain mused, “I don’t see why handling Rider accounts shouldn’t be one of your permanent duties.”

Karigan stifled a groan.

“Were I you,” the captain continued, “I’m not sure I’d have done so well with all you had to contend with, especially at your level of experience. Yes, I was ill, but you were correct to seek help from me.”

“But the accusations, the shouting—”

“I wish they had shaken me from the despair, but that took a different kind of intervention.” The captain smiled slightly. “I also know the kind of strain you were under at the time. Think no more of it.”

“But—”

“Rider.”

“Yes, Captain.” Karigan peered back up and couldn’t help grinning. She wanted to jump up and down in happiness—the captain was back!—but managed to retain decorum.

“So,” the captain said, “let me tell you what happened to me, then you can catch me up on your doings.”

They strolled through the pasture as the captain explained her illness and the visit by Gwyer Warhein. Karigan found herself perversely relieved she wasn’t the only one being visited by ghosts.

A monarch butterfly crawled onto the captain’s hand from a cone flower as she spoke, and stayed there for some moments before fluttering its wings and flying away. There was a serenity about the captain Karigan had not seen before, and she was glad.

When it was Karigan’s turn to talk, she found the captain knew most of what had been going on, but was missing some pieces.

“I don’t remember much after being pursued into the abandoned corridors, and especially after the traveling. I don’t know why that sergeant was after me. He said something about the empire, and that the wraith had come looking for me.”

“Uxton was captured,” the captain said. “He was part of a group called Second Empire.” She described the group’s origin and purpose. “Uxton gave us names of some of the members, including their leader, the leader of the Sacor City sect, anyway: Weldon Spurlock.”

“The chief administrator?” He was unpleasant, but she never expected this from him.

The captain nodded. “But a few names is all we got. You see, Uxton and Spurlock are dead, murdered, we think, by one of their own. Poisoned.”

Karigan shook her head in disbelief.

“While we don’t know exactly why, we do know they wanted to take you to Blackveil.”

Images of dark, spindly tree limbs reaching for her came back to her, of someone talking to her in the snow . . .

The captain stopped abruptly and placed her hand on Karigan’s shoulder, her eyes searching.

“Uxton,” she said quietly, “admitted pushing Alton off the wall and into the forest.”

The news, Karigan thought, ought to upset her, but it was more like being jerked awake.

“He’s alive.” She babbled it before she could stop herself.

The captain’s eyes widened. “You know this for certain?”

Karigan told the captain her theory about messenger horses and how they knew of their Rider’s welfare. She told her of the image she had seen of Alton in the Mirror of the Moon.

“We have to find him. Now that you’re well, the king will let me go.” Karigan spotted Condor in a far corner of the pasture, and started away from the captain as though to catch him and ride straight away for the wall.

The captain grabbed her wrist. “Hold on. There’s a catch to your plan.”

“What?”

“Me.”

Karigan bit her lip in embarrassment. What had gotten into her? All she knew was that she needed to find Alton, and she knew he was alive somewhere near the wall.

“Not to mention,” the captain continued, “you are the last person who should go there, considering that’s where Uxton planned to take you.”

Karigan felt constricted, thwarted, as though she would never get to take action. Her mind raced, trying to think of ways she could convince the captain to let her go. Maybe she would have to go against orders after all . . .

And then a curious thing began to happen, at first unnoticed by either Rider. Bluebird plodded over to them, shaking his mane with a snort. He bumped the captain’s shoulder with his nose, and she patted him absently. The other messenger horses moved in as well, casually cropping grass as they came, and flicking their tails at flies. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">