Firebrand
Page 249
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“My unfolding is upon me. Nari was right—I am young and a fool, and I have been too arrogant to see the truth. Please go before I—” He emitted a strangled, growling sound, his body tightly drawn and contorted in some agony. “Go before I force myself upon you. I do not wish to destroy that which I love.”
He would force himself on her? She backed away, put Condor between them, and climbed on a rock to aid in mounting. She fumbled for the stirrup.
“The council must have wished this upon me, us,” he continued in a tight voice. “They must have known I would lose control in your presence. What end they wish to accomplish by pairing us, I do not know, though they would value one with your ability to transcend thresholds, and have you bound to Eletia by your—our—young.”
What the hells? She shook herself and at last managed to get her toe in the stirrup. She painfully hauled herself into the saddle. “You will explain this to me later?”
He made a growling sound. “Go!”
“You’ll be all right?”
“I will be when you are away from me. Mist will prevent me from following. You will go on to Sacor City without me as you wish. Now go, please, before I lose all control and attack. Go!”
She clucked Condor away, but when Enver howled—a gut-wrenching, wild howl—she glanced over her shoulder and saw him on his knees, his head thrown back and fists clenched. Mist lipped his shoulder.
Karigan rode on, soon entering the Lone Forest in a state of lingering bewilderment and feeling utterly depleted. She was unsure of exactly what had happened, except that Enver had come very close to— No, she did not wish to even think about it, what could have happened.
What was this “unfolding” of his? She swallowed hard. The council of the Alluvium had some audacity. Did they not know Green Riders could not conceive while they heard the call? Or, in their arrogance, did they believe an Eletian could overcome even that? Regardless, had Enver not sent her away . . . The danger she had been in was only just sinking in. She was under no illusion that she would have been able to stop him, had he lost control.
She was trembling hard by the time she reached the clearing of the keep. She halted Condor beneath the fringe of the woods, her gaze taking in, but not really seeing, all the soldiers on the grounds going about their work.
Her general lack of trust for Eletians, it appeared, was well-founded. She did not include Enver in that assessment. She still trusted him, and perhaps even more so now, but those who ruled, this council of theirs, they’d sent her and Enver to the p’ehdrose knowing they’d be breaking an oath, which could have resulted in their deaths, or at the very least, never being allowed to leave the valley again. The Eletians had also paired her with Enver, not just because they were familiar with her from past collaborations, or because she had the ability to cross over into the valley of the p’ehdrose, but for other reasons, an as-yet-to-be-determined endgame. They must have known that, as Enver put it, her spirit called to him. One day, she would put an end to their meddling in her life. Prince Jametari and his councilors would be made to atone for their interference, and the apparent agony that now assailed Enver.
When she returned to Sacor City and reported it all . . . She shook her head, not sure she should make mention of this particular manipulation. She could not guess how Zachary would react, and she had no wish to be the cause of a rift between Sacoridia and Eletia at so crucial a time.
She dismounted and led Condor onto the keep grounds, bewilderment and anger giving way to acute loneliness. Estral had departed for Selium, Zachary was on his way home, and now Enver would be going his own way, as well. There were many people here at the keep, but most were strangers. She might as well be alone.
Captain Dannyn spotted her, and she halted as he picked his way across the clearing toward her. “Rider,” he said when he reached her, “welcome back. Was your mission to the p’ehdrose a success?”
“Yes,” she replied.
He brightened. “That is very good news. And Enver? Is he with you?”
“No, sir. I don’t know if he’ll stop back here. I believe we’ll be traveling our separate ways at this point.”
Dannyn nodded. “Well, go ahead and get some rest and food while you can. You’ve earned it.”
She took his advice and napped in the tower chamber. Later, when Master Destarion examined her back one final time, he told her that Enver had returned briefly. He’d collected his gear and departed immediately. Tears welled in her eyes, which she hastily wiped away.
“Did he seem all right when you saw him?” she asked.
“Yes, Rider. Shouldn’t he have?”
She did not answer.
“He left me what remained of his evaleoren,” Destarion said, as he rubbed the aromatic salve into her wounds. “Miraculous stuff. But you are not to strain yourself on the ride home. Take it easy, go slow, take plenty of breaks. When you reach the castle will be soon enough. No sense to hurry.”
• • •
The next morning, Karigan readied herself for her journey, and after a hearty breakfast prepared by the indefatigable cooks of the River Unit, she rode Condor out of the Lone Forest, her saddlebags bulging with provisions. She’d left Bane behind, figuring the River Unit would have much greater need of him than she.
She halted Condor on the rocky plain, a heavy, leaden sky hanging low over the landscape. She stretched out her hand and felt sprinkles patter on her upturned palm. Behind her was the forest wafting in morning mists, with the darkness of battle and torture hidden beneath its eaves. Ahead lay home and many days on the road where she’d be alone with her thoughts. Difficult thoughts and memories. Should she run into trouble, she still was not able to wield a sword. Weakness remained. And what if the Nyssa spirit returned to torment her? Well, she had the command of ghosts, didn’t she? And there was always retreat to the starry meadow.
He would force himself on her? She backed away, put Condor between them, and climbed on a rock to aid in mounting. She fumbled for the stirrup.
“The council must have wished this upon me, us,” he continued in a tight voice. “They must have known I would lose control in your presence. What end they wish to accomplish by pairing us, I do not know, though they would value one with your ability to transcend thresholds, and have you bound to Eletia by your—our—young.”
What the hells? She shook herself and at last managed to get her toe in the stirrup. She painfully hauled herself into the saddle. “You will explain this to me later?”
He made a growling sound. “Go!”
“You’ll be all right?”
“I will be when you are away from me. Mist will prevent me from following. You will go on to Sacor City without me as you wish. Now go, please, before I lose all control and attack. Go!”
She clucked Condor away, but when Enver howled—a gut-wrenching, wild howl—she glanced over her shoulder and saw him on his knees, his head thrown back and fists clenched. Mist lipped his shoulder.
Karigan rode on, soon entering the Lone Forest in a state of lingering bewilderment and feeling utterly depleted. She was unsure of exactly what had happened, except that Enver had come very close to— No, she did not wish to even think about it, what could have happened.
What was this “unfolding” of his? She swallowed hard. The council of the Alluvium had some audacity. Did they not know Green Riders could not conceive while they heard the call? Or, in their arrogance, did they believe an Eletian could overcome even that? Regardless, had Enver not sent her away . . . The danger she had been in was only just sinking in. She was under no illusion that she would have been able to stop him, had he lost control.
She was trembling hard by the time she reached the clearing of the keep. She halted Condor beneath the fringe of the woods, her gaze taking in, but not really seeing, all the soldiers on the grounds going about their work.
Her general lack of trust for Eletians, it appeared, was well-founded. She did not include Enver in that assessment. She still trusted him, and perhaps even more so now, but those who ruled, this council of theirs, they’d sent her and Enver to the p’ehdrose knowing they’d be breaking an oath, which could have resulted in their deaths, or at the very least, never being allowed to leave the valley again. The Eletians had also paired her with Enver, not just because they were familiar with her from past collaborations, or because she had the ability to cross over into the valley of the p’ehdrose, but for other reasons, an as-yet-to-be-determined endgame. They must have known that, as Enver put it, her spirit called to him. One day, she would put an end to their meddling in her life. Prince Jametari and his councilors would be made to atone for their interference, and the apparent agony that now assailed Enver.
When she returned to Sacor City and reported it all . . . She shook her head, not sure she should make mention of this particular manipulation. She could not guess how Zachary would react, and she had no wish to be the cause of a rift between Sacoridia and Eletia at so crucial a time.
She dismounted and led Condor onto the keep grounds, bewilderment and anger giving way to acute loneliness. Estral had departed for Selium, Zachary was on his way home, and now Enver would be going his own way, as well. There were many people here at the keep, but most were strangers. She might as well be alone.
Captain Dannyn spotted her, and she halted as he picked his way across the clearing toward her. “Rider,” he said when he reached her, “welcome back. Was your mission to the p’ehdrose a success?”
“Yes,” she replied.
He brightened. “That is very good news. And Enver? Is he with you?”
“No, sir. I don’t know if he’ll stop back here. I believe we’ll be traveling our separate ways at this point.”
Dannyn nodded. “Well, go ahead and get some rest and food while you can. You’ve earned it.”
She took his advice and napped in the tower chamber. Later, when Master Destarion examined her back one final time, he told her that Enver had returned briefly. He’d collected his gear and departed immediately. Tears welled in her eyes, which she hastily wiped away.
“Did he seem all right when you saw him?” she asked.
“Yes, Rider. Shouldn’t he have?”
She did not answer.
“He left me what remained of his evaleoren,” Destarion said, as he rubbed the aromatic salve into her wounds. “Miraculous stuff. But you are not to strain yourself on the ride home. Take it easy, go slow, take plenty of breaks. When you reach the castle will be soon enough. No sense to hurry.”
• • •
The next morning, Karigan readied herself for her journey, and after a hearty breakfast prepared by the indefatigable cooks of the River Unit, she rode Condor out of the Lone Forest, her saddlebags bulging with provisions. She’d left Bane behind, figuring the River Unit would have much greater need of him than she.
She halted Condor on the rocky plain, a heavy, leaden sky hanging low over the landscape. She stretched out her hand and felt sprinkles patter on her upturned palm. Behind her was the forest wafting in morning mists, with the darkness of battle and torture hidden beneath its eaves. Ahead lay home and many days on the road where she’d be alone with her thoughts. Difficult thoughts and memories. Should she run into trouble, she still was not able to wield a sword. Weakness remained. And what if the Nyssa spirit returned to torment her? Well, she had the command of ghosts, didn’t she? And there was always retreat to the starry meadow.
