The High King's Tomb
Page 33

“Oh,” was all Fergal said.
Karigan pursed her lips. They were not off to a good start. For some reason Fergal just rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe she resented his eagerness, or maybe she just wasn’t meant to mentor new Riders. This was the sort of thing Ty was good at, not her.
She took a deep breath. “This is the Kingway,” she said, indicating the road ahead, “and we’ll follow it all the way to Selium.”
“Wahoo!” Fergal cried, and he and Sunny were off in a cloud of dust.
Karigan rolled her eyes and decided she would sit and wait until he realized she hadn’t followed him.
It was quite a while before Fergal realized he was alone, for the bells in the city rang off two cycles before he returned at a trot, Sunny’s neck all lathered. Karigan sat beside the road chewing on a stalk of grass, her back against a maple and her legs stretched out before her. She had loosened Condor’s girth and replaced his bridle with a halter so he could graze.
Fergal’s cheeks were flushed, but that could have been from the exertion of the ride and not contrition.
“Where were you?” he sputtered.
No, not contrition.
“Why weren’t you with me?” he demanded. “I had to come all the way back.”
Karigan pushed herself up from the ground. “Dismount.”
“What?”
“Dismount,” she said evenly, “and that’s an order.”
Perplexed, Fergal obeyed.
“Loosen Sunny’s girth.”
“But—”
“That’s an order, too.”
He complied, but still did not understand. “Why?”
“All I can figure is that you’ve ignored everything Horse-master Riggs has tried to teach you,” Karigan said. “Being a messenger isn’t about galloping off into the horizon. Yes, it’s about the efficient delivery of the king’s messages, but not at the expense of your steed. You’ve already spent Sunny. Look at the lather on her neck! Now you must walk her to cool her off.”
“But—”
“If you can’t follow basic orders, orders that have been repeated to you, and if you can’t put to use what you’ve learned, then I’ll have no choice but to escort you back to the castle where you can explain yourself to Captain Mapstone. Perhaps you will even have to go before the king to tell him why his messages were delayed.”
Fergal blanched. “But I thought—”
“Doesn’t matter what you thought.” Karigan almost hoped he gave her reason to return him to the castle. “Your horse is your lifeline, not just a…a slave to bear you from here to there. As a messenger, you’ve entered into a partnership with your horse, and first consideration must go to your mount.”
“But she’s not a real messenger horse—”
Karigan looked from Fergal to Sunny, and back, and restrained an impulse to swat the lad. “She’s carrying a messenger, isn’t she? Looks like a messenger horse to me.”
“But—”
Karigan guessed he had heard a good deal about how special Rider horses were, how greathearted they were, and of the special bonds that developed between Rider and horse. He clearly saw Sunny as something inferior. She stepped over to Sunny and rubbed her above the eye. The mare leaned into Karigan’s strokes.
“No, Sunny did not start out life as a Rider horse,” Karigan said, “but she is highly trained, and gave her heart to her work, as I know she will on this errand if you treat her well. She’s seen battle, and is seasoned and reliable. You can’t ask for much better than that. Respect your horse, and she will respect you.”
For once Fergal had the sense to keep his mouth shut, but he looked miffed.
“Foolishly setting off at a gallop for no reason will exhaust your horse sooner, maybe make her pull up lame, and shorten your day’s travel. How does that help you serve your king?”
Fergal looked down at his feet. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Don’t apologize to me,” Karigan said. “Apologize to Sunny.”
She could see Fergal’s reluctance, but he patted the mare on the neck, though half-heartedly.
“Now, shall we return to Captain Mapstone, or are you ready to go about this the right way?” she asked.
“You would actually do that? I mean, make me go back?”
“Yes. You’re compromising the errand.”
Fergal shifted his eyes nervously and Karigan sensed the shame he’d feel in returning. “I’ll do things…right. I swear.”
Karigan suppressed a sigh. She wasn’t sure her point had been driven home, but she was stuck with him for the time being. “All right, now we walk.” She took Condor’s lead rope and started strolling down the Kingway. Fergal just stood in place, staring after her, mouth open as if to protest, but at Karigan’s stern look, he drew Sunny’s reins over her head and fell in behind.
As Karigan followed the road through the small collection of cots a short distance outside the city gates, she wished she had known more about Fergal before setting out. The glimpses she’d had of him in the castle were of an eager boy ready to please. What she saw now was one with a rebellious streak she didn’t understand. Some of it was the excitement of being on his first errand, and some of it could just be his age. She hoped he’d prove more sensible for the duration of their journey.
A journey barely begun. She gave a preoccupied wave to some of the farmers at work in their fields. Not that she had always made sensible decisions in her own life. One of those decisions landed her in the messenger service. That and the call, of course. She strode on with a chuckle.