Blackveil
Page 70

 Kristen Britain

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“Like you think I won’t survive my first step into the forest. I volunteered for this duty.”
“You volunteered?”
“Don’t act so shocked. We can’t have you taking all the glory after all. I came to the captain as soon as I caught wind of the mission and offered my services.”
Karigan glanced at the captain whose expression was unreadable. Karigan wanted to tell her to pick someone else, someone less ... innocent. Well, not that Yates was innocent if all the rumors about his conquests with the ladies were true. But there were others, she was sure, more seasoned to the type of dangers Blackveil presented. But who? Who would she choose? Maybe Beryl, but Beryl was off on some mysterious errand for the king. Who else? But as she thought about it, no one came to mind that she would want to send into Blackveil and she could only conclude all the Riders were dear to her. They were family, even Beryl the scary spy and interrogator.
Now she understood in truth the difficult choices the captain had been confronted with and perhaps Yates’ volunteering had made the decision easier.
But still ... Yates? It just seemed wrong.
“You’ll need someone to see in the dark,” Yates said. “I hear Blackveil gets very dark.”
His special ability was exceptional night vision and it was true it would be useful in the forest, but it would not repel the vicious denizens of the forest or prevent them from eating him.
“But ... but it’s Blackveil!” she blurted. “It’s dangerous!”
“Don’t worry,” Yates replied. “I’ll protect you.”
Karigan’s mouth dropped open, but she could not manage a retort. It did not help that Captain Mapstone chuckled or that even taciturn Lynx smiled.
They quickly returned to business. The captain gave them a list of instructions to help her Riders prepare for departure, which was coming up fast—next week.
When they were dismissed, Lynx headed off on business of his own leaving Karigan to confront Yates just outside officers quarters. She cuffed him on the shoulder.
“Are you mad?” she demanded. “Volunteering to go into Blackveil?”
“If so,” Yates said, “then I am in good company.” He sauntered off whistling, leaving her on the pathway to stew. She was torn between running after Yates and asking him to change his mind, and returning to Captain Mapstone’s quarters to plead with her to reconsider. She did neither. Yates, for all his jokes and lightheartedness, was a man full grown and entitled to make his own decisions, and confronting Captain Mapstone might be construed as challenging her command.
Instead she went to the stables thinking Condor could use a good turn with a currycomb.
Over the next couple of days the trio of Riders appeared at the quartermaster’s to get outfitted for their journey. Blackveil was a different kind of environment and they would be on foot, not on horseback. They were fitted with boots normally reserved for the infantry, and piled down with tents, spare woolens, stockings, and oilskin cloaks.
Lynx was additionally presented with extra bundles of arrows, spare bow strings, and the haft of an ax. Most Riders bore sabers and long knives, but Lynx preferred his stout forester’s knife, longbow, and throwing ax. He checked the balance of the new haft and pronounced it acceptable.
Then it was off to a briefing with General Harborough in his office in the administrative wing of the castle, and for the first time the Riders got a look at the others who would be accompanying them. They were two soldiers from the army, large and muscular, and a third man, more slight in stature, and introduced as Gillard Ardmont, a forester of Coutre Province.
The general sat behind his oversized desk, medals on his chest gleaming in the lamplight and an attentive aide at his side taking notes.
“When we enter Blackveil,” the general said, folding beefy hands on the desk before him, “our objective is largely one of observation.”
“He going with us?” Yates whispered to Karigan with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“You have something to say, Rider Cardell?” General Harborough asked in a booming voice that made Yates flinch.
“N-no, sir.”
“Good. Then listen up. This is no holiday jaunt you’re going on.”
Maybe, Karigan thought, if Yates heard it often enough he’d reconsider his decision to volunteer.
“The Eletians say,” the general continued, “that they want to see what has become of their land since the D’Yer Wall was erected, but express nothing further of their intentions. His Highness would like to know what more they are after, if anything. Keep in mind the Eletians invited us along and they have not yet shown themselves to be our enemies.” The general looked plainly skeptical on this point but continued, “I expect courtesy and diplomacy in dealing with them. Am I clear?”
“YES, SIR!” the two soldiers bellowed, almost bowling Karigan out of her chair.
This was followed by less emphatic affirmations from the Riders and the forester.
This expedition, Karigan thought, was going to be interesting.
“The king wants you to keep your eyes open to learn anything about the forest you can, especially if it’s something that may help us against Mornhavon the Black when he returns. You will come back with detailed reports. You will report directly to the king upon your return. Take note of roads and ruins, the landscape and wildlife. I fear no maps of the region exist so you will be following the lead of the Eletians, an untenable situation to my mind. Therefore a vital facet of your mission is to make some maps. Rider Cardell?”