Green Rider
Page 38

The crowd babbled about the old evil, ancient prophecies, and the Long War. Karigan became absorbed in her own thoughts. Estral, ever the fountain of information, had mentioned trouble on the borders. But groundmites? She had scarcely believed groundmites would dare leave their dens in the far north after they had been slain and scattered after the Long War with the fear of the League driven into their hearts.
Now she felt no disbelief that the groundmites, legendary minions of Mornhavon the Black, which were not quite human, but beastlike creatures that were terrible in battle, were roaming across Sacoridia’s borders. There was no room for disbelief—not after Immerez. Not after the creature of Kanmorhan Vane. Things were happening in the world, and her beloved Sacoridia no longer seemed very secure.
A tug on her coat snapped her out of her reverie. A little boy with tousled sandy hair gaped up at her with solemn brown eyes. He couldn’t have been more than six years old.
“You really kill someone?” he asked in awe.
Karigan glanced about. The settlers and the mercenaries were too deep in discussion to notice. She then looked down at the little boy. “No.”
“You lying?”
“No.”
“Din’ think so.” He grinned at her brightly, then ran off to join his mother who stood off a ways with a cluster of other women. She put a protective arm about his shoulders and scowled at Karigan.
Jendara and Torne were invited to share dinner with the settlers. Visitors bearing news from abroad were enough cause for celebration. The feast was held outdoors, for no dwelling in the area was large enough to hold more than a small family. Pots of priddle cream were passed around and smoke candles lit to stave off ravenous biters.
However, no one passed Karigan any cream, and she was tied to an ash tree out of range of the smoke candles, her mouth securely gagged with an old rag. As if to augment her misery, the smell of roasting meats drifted all around her. Her stomach roiled. The hard heel of bread Torne had tossed her earlier had done little to ease her hunger pangs.
One of the settlers stood guard a little way off. He seemed more intent on watching the festivities, his notched and rusted blade loose in his hand. She could hear music, mostly a simple pipe and drum, and laughter and clapping from dancing folk.
She allowed a few tears to trickle down her cheeks. If only she still possessed the winged horse brooch or the bunchberry flower.
How she missed the Berry sisters. And Estral, and her father. Where was he now? What was he doing? Was he searching for her, or did he assume her dead? Would she ever see him again? The tears poured down her cheeks now and she sobbed hard, gasping for air through the gag. She was so alone! How did she ever get into this mess? She would never wish for adventure again—she just wanted to go home.
Under different circumstances she might have found the night quite pleasant. A milky moon rose far above the trees, and stars speckled the sky. The laughter of the settlers had a homey feel, but only made her more lonely. She took a deep, rattling breath and blew it out her nose slowly. A soft breeze dried her tears and whispered of summer yet to come. It would have been easy to feel happy here, comfortable, if she hadn’t been tied to a tree and gagged.
I wish I could help you.
The words drifted to her as if upon the breeze. She looked wildly about her and strained to see behind the tree, but no one was there.
I—ish—help you.
Karigan sat up alertly.
I—you—danger—the road. We spoke—ger.
Karigan grunted through the gag, unable to respond.
—no strength—help now. Wish—could—elp.
Karigan squirmed, fighting against her bonds. Was it F’ryan Coblebay trying to communicate with her? Was she crazy to think she heard the voice of a ghost?
not—er—wish—help.
“Mmff fog elp wone ga me anna wheah!” was all she could say through the gag.
There was giggling all around her. Karigan looked up and all the young children of the settlement gazed at her the way they might at some intriguing beast at the Corsa Zoo. In the forefront was the little boy who had spoken to her earlier that day.
“Are you a muhdrer?” asked a tiny girl with her forefinger hooked in her mouth. “What’s a muhdrer?”
“Hush, Tosh,” the boy said knowingly. “She’s not a murderer. She told me so.”
“Maybe she’s crazy,” another boy said. “My old aunt was crazy and they locked her in the attic.”
The rest of the children were duly impressed.
“What’s a muhdrer?” the tiny girl asked.
“Means she killed someone,” the first boy said.
Karigan cleared her throat, and they all jumped.
The boy looked surreptitiously around, then gazed at Karigan with a very serious expression on his face. “You have to promise not to talk. Not loud, anyway.”
Karigan nodded emphatically.
The boy looked around again, then pulled the gag out of her mouth. She took some deep breaths, then said, “I didn’t kill anyone.”
The children jumped again at her voice, but they seemed willing to believe her.
“What are you all doing here? Won’t you get in trouble for talking to me?”
“Dad’s too sleepy. Drank too much cider.” Then the boy pointed to the guard whose back was still turned to them. “You gotta keep real quiet, ’member? Then we won’t get in trouble. We came to look at you.”
Now Karigan did feel like a strange beast in the zoo. “Well, then go away. I don’t like being stared at. It’s not polite.” The Berry sisters would approve.