Green Rider
Page 147
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“I found you, more or less,” the captain explained. “Your father agreed long ago to reoutfit my unit—which happens to be the whole of the messenger service—if I found you.” She turned her hazel eyes back on Stevic. “Remember, make them conservative and green.”
Stevic rolled his eyes. “Aeryc and Aeryon preserve me from making deals with Green Riders.” He shook his head and turned his attention back to the road ahead.
“Them?” Karigan asked, mystified.
“Uniforms.” The captain smiled smugly. They rode for a bit more and the smile faded to a more thoughtful expression. “Karigan, please consider joining us. You have shown rare courage, and we would be proud to have you.”
Karigan worked the reins between her fingers and looked down at her hands. She felt the pull of the Green Riders, but didn’t understand it. She needed some time to think it over. “No, I don’t—”
The captain cut her off. “You do not have to decide now. I won’t pressure you. I believe you will feel enough pressure in . . . well, other ways.”
The captain did not explain further and the conversation shifted to more inconsequential things for the duration of the ride through the city. She rode with them through the last gate, then halted.
“I have some things for you,” she said to Karigan. She reached behind herself and unfastened a saddle sheath complete with saber. She presented it to Karigan. “This isn’t the blade of the First Rider though I think you deserve to carry it. Agemon of the tombs demanded its return. This was F’ryan’s.”
Karigan ran her fingers across the worn leather sheath. “I recognize it.”
“You have his brooch and horse,” Captain Mapstone said. “It seems logical for you to have his sword as well. I think he would be pleased.”
“Thank you,” Karigan said.
“One more thing.” Captain Mapstone’s expression became grave and she scratched at her neck scar. “I saw you after the Battle of the Lost Lake. I saw what you did with those black arrows. Here.” She handed Karigan an oblong bundle wrapped in cloth. “These are the arrows that killed F’ryan. I’m not sure why you broke all the others, but I have a feeling it would be a good idea to break these as well.”
Karigan took the bundle and clasped Captain Mapstone’s hand. “Thank you for everything.”
“Good-bye, Karigan. I hope your journey home is far more pleasant than any other you have taken lately.”
Karigan watched as the captain rode Bluebird back through the gate. She turned Condor away, away from Sacor City, away from the imposing castle atop its hill and the man who inhabited it. She rode with her father and Sevano and left everything that had happened far behind.
When they reached the spot where she and Alton had picnicked by the Lost Lake, she dismounted Condor and walked alone into the cool shade of the beech tree. She unwrapped the arrows.
She shuddered as her fingers touched the black wood of the shafts. Blood still crusted on the steel tips. Without ceremony, she broke the arrows over her knee and let the pieces drop to the ground.
F’ryan Coblebay appeared before her, very faint, his luminescence fading. She could see meadow grass waving through him. Thank you, he said. No arrows protruded from his back now, no blood flowed. His face was not creased with pain. Others remain enslaved, but you have helped many. Now I, too, may go home. He turned and walked away, fading out as he went until he was no longer there.
Karigan mounted Condor and reined him up beside her father. He smiled at her and reached over to squeeze her knee.
Karigan touched the winged horse brooch fastened to her shirt and sighed.
“Let’s go home,” she said.
Stevic rolled his eyes. “Aeryc and Aeryon preserve me from making deals with Green Riders.” He shook his head and turned his attention back to the road ahead.
“Them?” Karigan asked, mystified.
“Uniforms.” The captain smiled smugly. They rode for a bit more and the smile faded to a more thoughtful expression. “Karigan, please consider joining us. You have shown rare courage, and we would be proud to have you.”
Karigan worked the reins between her fingers and looked down at her hands. She felt the pull of the Green Riders, but didn’t understand it. She needed some time to think it over. “No, I don’t—”
The captain cut her off. “You do not have to decide now. I won’t pressure you. I believe you will feel enough pressure in . . . well, other ways.”
The captain did not explain further and the conversation shifted to more inconsequential things for the duration of the ride through the city. She rode with them through the last gate, then halted.
“I have some things for you,” she said to Karigan. She reached behind herself and unfastened a saddle sheath complete with saber. She presented it to Karigan. “This isn’t the blade of the First Rider though I think you deserve to carry it. Agemon of the tombs demanded its return. This was F’ryan’s.”
Karigan ran her fingers across the worn leather sheath. “I recognize it.”
“You have his brooch and horse,” Captain Mapstone said. “It seems logical for you to have his sword as well. I think he would be pleased.”
“Thank you,” Karigan said.
“One more thing.” Captain Mapstone’s expression became grave and she scratched at her neck scar. “I saw you after the Battle of the Lost Lake. I saw what you did with those black arrows. Here.” She handed Karigan an oblong bundle wrapped in cloth. “These are the arrows that killed F’ryan. I’m not sure why you broke all the others, but I have a feeling it would be a good idea to break these as well.”
Karigan took the bundle and clasped Captain Mapstone’s hand. “Thank you for everything.”
“Good-bye, Karigan. I hope your journey home is far more pleasant than any other you have taken lately.”
Karigan watched as the captain rode Bluebird back through the gate. She turned Condor away, away from Sacor City, away from the imposing castle atop its hill and the man who inhabited it. She rode with her father and Sevano and left everything that had happened far behind.
When they reached the spot where she and Alton had picnicked by the Lost Lake, she dismounted Condor and walked alone into the cool shade of the beech tree. She unwrapped the arrows.
She shuddered as her fingers touched the black wood of the shafts. Blood still crusted on the steel tips. Without ceremony, she broke the arrows over her knee and let the pieces drop to the ground.
F’ryan Coblebay appeared before her, very faint, his luminescence fading. She could see meadow grass waving through him. Thank you, he said. No arrows protruded from his back now, no blood flowed. His face was not creased with pain. Others remain enslaved, but you have helped many. Now I, too, may go home. He turned and walked away, fading out as he went until he was no longer there.
Karigan mounted Condor and reined him up beside her father. He smiled at her and reached over to squeeze her knee.
Karigan touched the winged horse brooch fastened to her shirt and sighed.
“Let’s go home,” she said.