First Rider's Call
Page 100

The others at the table, the mayor’s wife and some town officials, waited intently for Karigan’s reply.
“I believe I do,” she said. “As you may guess, those tales have also reached the king’s ear.”
Gilbradney shifted uncomfortably. “Is there truth in them?”
Karigan nodded slowly. “Of course, I’m not sure which ones you’ve heard, but yes, some have truth in them. But more likely than not, most are probably exaggerated beyond recognition.”
“So I suspect, as well. Tell me, Rider, do you know the cause of these oddities?”
Karigan wasn’t sure how much to reveal. This was one of the hardest aspects of representing the kingdom—everything coming from her mouth would be taken as the official word of the king.
“No decisive conclusions have yet been reached,” she said carefully, “but the king is aware of the oddities, and we are being vigilant. Have you anything to report?”
The mayor and his colleagues seemed delighted to tell her of the tales they had heard. Some were familiar, some were not. She filed the latter away for retrieval later, when she reported back to Mara and the king.
The conversation turned cordial once again, the mayor apparently satisfied by her explanation.
The mayor’s wife invited her to stay the night, but Karigan had an itch to be riding again. The moon was due to be full and she couldn’t bear the thought of being stuck indoors. Also, she felt a twinge of guilt about having left Mara totally at the mercy of the “wolves.” As much as she liked being away from Sacor City, the farther she got down the road tonight, the sooner she could get back to helping Mara.
After convincing Lady Gilbradney she must be on her way, and thanking her effusively for her hospitality, Karigan nearly had to roll herself out of the mayor’s residence, she was so stuffed. Her head was a little light, too, from all the apple wine.
I suppose I’ll have another headache in the morning.
She was yawning mightily by the time they reached the stretch of road that skirted Watch Hill. It was a domed silhouette against a tapestry of twinkling stars. The bright full moon reflected a glimmering crown of light on the summit.
Pretty, Karigan thought sleepily. Magical.
It was an ironic thought for what happened next.
At first the stirring of her brooch was a gentle hum, but insistent enough to awaken her completely. Condor halted as if knowing more was to come. A force tugged at her brooch, then yanked her right off Condor and into the streaming space of the traveling.
She screamed, but the sound was ripped from her throat and left in some other time. She traveled suspended through thousands of nights, the moon changing its size and visage faster than her eyes could blink, travelers on the road but brief impressions flaring past, and then there was no road at all. She passed through winters and rainstorms, forest fires, summers and autumns, and radiant springs.
When the traveling ended abruptly, she fell from space and hit the ground with an unceremonious grunt. She sat up groaning—unhurt, but very unhappy. Who knew when she had landed this time.
Physically she was in the very same spot as when she’d been atop Condor, but he was nowhere to be seen. Her perspective of Watch Hill hadn’t changed an iota, and even the moon was full and a dazzling silver.
“Bloody hell,” she muttered. She stood and slapped dirt off her trousers.
The air was crisp, like the lands north where a nip in the summer air reminded one of which season was the mightier and dominated the longest.
“Now what?”
It seemed a pitiful question when a powerful force had just carried her across the ages. Why? And with mounting fear, would she be stranded here?
She touched her brooch, but it felt no different than it ever had. Panic swelled in her breast and she hugged herself to contain it. She was alone here with no idea of how to get back.
To calm herself, she decided to build a campfire. By the time she remembered her tinder box was still packed in Condor’s saddlebag, elsewhen, she had already accumulated an armload of wood. With a sigh, she supposed starting a fire without it would occupy her while she mulled over her situation.
She dumped the wood and went looking for more. As she walked, she caught sight of a movement beyond a thicket of trees. Startled, she halted, her heart skipping a few beats. It was a horse and rider, of that much she was certain.
She had to restrain herself from running to the rider for help. Instead, she moved forward cautiously, attempting to make as little noise as possible. Just because the people of the past had been unaware of her the last time she had traveled, she didn’t want to take the chance the rules had changed.
She passed through the thicket, thinking the shadows of the spruce would help conceal her. She knelt behind a boulder and peered out beyond to a clearing.
The moon glinted on the rider’s steel half-armor and the pommel of the greatsword strapped to her back. It was none other than the First Rider, Lil Ambrioth.
Karigan stepped out from behind the boulder and out of the shadows. “Hello,” she said.
Lil didn’t seem to hear or see her. She remained very still, sitting erect in her saddle, staring straight ahead.
Lil’s horse was more draft horse than saddle horse. It was big and bony and underfed, and tired-looking. It was slightly sway-backed, and had the look of hard use. Its large head was ugly. Not exactly the image Karigan had of the warsteed that should be carrying a great hero.
Another rider entered the clearing from the opposite side, on a sleek black stallion that was a far finer beast than Lil Ambrioth’s. The man riding it was no less impressive, in a crimson and black uniform, the like of which Karigan had never seen before. The velvet sleeves were full and slashed to reveal the crimson silk beneath. He wore a breastplate of enameled crimson, and a bal dric of black that girded a longsword at his hip. He bore himself like an elite soldier.