First Rider's Call

“A wraith came through,” Karigan supplied. “Its emergence from the tomb set off the wards.”

Everyone looked at her, astonished to hear her voice as though she were a wraith herself.

“I saw nothing,” Ansible said. “Just felt as though I wanted to hide myself under the nearest rock.”

Ty had said something very like this, of a terrible something that had fought its way through the dying wards and emerged from the clearing. He had glimpsed only a shadow before it disappeared.

Captain Ansible would say nothing more of the wraith, but he went on to speak of the Eletians appearing in their “moon armor,” as he called it, and of their aid.

“They were led by a fellow named Telagioth. Tall he was, with eyes of blue that . . .” He shook his head as words failed him. “An odd folk in any case. I have never seen their like. This Telagioth, he was intent to speak to Rider G’ladheon here, but how he knew of her, I am not certain.”

Laren watched as the king’s gaze swung over to Karigan and rested there, a thoughtful expression on his face. Karigan stared into her cup of tea as though sunk deeply into her own world. She clenched the porcelain teacup so hard Laren feared she would crush it.

“Rider G’ladheon,” the king said, his voice soft, “per haps you could tell us your version of events.”

Karigan looked up, blinking. For an odd moment, Laren swore she saw a figure standing just beyond her, a shimmer like a wave of heat. She blinked her eyes to clear them, but it was still there—a tall figure, but without definition. It hovered there as if waiting or listening. Listening?

This time Laren rubbed at her eyes, and when she looked again, the figure was gone.

I haven’t had enough to eat, she thought. I’m seeing things.

True, her ability told her, without her requesting feedback. She wondered which was true—that she hadn’t had enough to eat, or that she was seeing things.

Both, she decided.

KARIGAN SPEAKS

I could not sleep,” Karigan began, “so I went to the pickets to check on Condor.” As Karigan spoke, Laren found herself drawn into the inky black of the forest night and the hush of the slumbering encampment, the embers of distant campfires glowing orange. Even as Karigan described it, she felt the jolt of discovering the soldier impaled in the chest by a groundmite arrow. Details about the actual battle were few. It was as if Karigan did not wish to relive the fighting, and so spoke very little of it.

“I found myself on the outskirts of the battle and witnessed the eruption of the wards just as Captain Ansible described.” Karigan spoke carefully, sitting rigidly. She set her teacup aside. “I saw the wraith pass through the wardings. Moments later, it approached me through the woods.”

This Ty had not told Laren. Perhaps in the aftermath of battle, and due to Ty’s quick departure, there had been no opportunity for him to learn of it.

“The wraith—it knew my name,” Karigan said.

The room grew ominously quiet. Everyone was intent on Karigan. Even the fresco painted figures on the ceiling, the likenesses of Zachary’s ancestors, seemed to listen.

“Rather,” Karigan corrected herself in reflection, “it called me Galadheon, as did the Eletians.”

Disturbed, Zachary stood. Everyone rose with him as protocol demanded, Ansible struggling. “No,” the king said, “please remain seated.” He rounded the table and placed one hand on Ansible’s shoulder and the other on Karigan’s, pressing them back into their chairs. Laren sank into her own. “Please continue,” he told Karigan.

Karigan seemed to struggle with something before she spoke. Finally she said, “The wraith also called me ‘Betrayer.’ ”

Everyone remained silent, Zachary standing behind Karigan and slightly to her left. It brought back to mind the—the whatever Laren had seen before. Maybe it had been a film in her eye.

Colin Dovekey broke the silence. “How in the name of five hells would this creature know you, Rider? And are you certain it spoke this word to you? Battle can disorient one’s mind.”

“Yes, sir, I am certain the wraith called me ‘Betrayer.’ I have no idea as to why, or how it might know me. I realize how strange this must sound . . . It has been strange for me. It was a terrible time, a nightmare. I—” and she struggled for words again. “I have thought about this long and hard, but still I have no answers.”

Zachary started pacing, head bowed in thought. “The name . . . G’ladheon is no doubt a contraction from an older name. Perhaps an error in census records caused the change, and it was adopted as the true name of the line. Or maybe it changed as things do in the course of generations passing. No doubt this wraith has abilities—magical knowledges beyond our ken. We are dealing with a very different kind of threat. An unknown threat.”

The feeble glow of the lamps seemed unable to fend off the weight of night. The windows were coated with black, and darkness had settled into the throne room’s corners and rafters.

“How did you escape this wraith?” Colin asked Karigan.

“I did not escape it. The Eletians came. This seemed to frighten it off, though I’m not sure ‘frighten’ is the appropriate term.” She paused, caught in some memory, her fingers touching the fading wound on her cheek. Then she went on to describe her meeting with Telagioth and how he led her beneath the cairn and into the tomb.

Zachary halted his pacing, a spasm of anger fluttering across his features. “To what purpose? Why would he take you into that creature’s tomb? That was an unnecessary risk. Who knows what else could have been down there?” 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">