Firebrand

“More food from the River Unit?” Karigan asked, sniffing the fine aroma.

“Yes,” Estral replied. “They do know how to keep their soldiers well fed.”

“A well-fed army,” Connly said, “is a fighting army.”

Karigan sat with her bowl, once again surprised by her own desire to eat. She spied one of their guards beyond the light of the campfire. The others remained unseen. She learned Zachary and his forces had departed for the Lone Forest about an hour previous.

As she ate, Connly caught her up about the doings in Sacor City following her departure, about Captain Mapstone’s shoulder, the aureas slee, and how Anna had begun taking riding lessons and other classes with the Riders.

Karigan was pleased. “She’d make a good Rider, if only she’d hear the call.”

“Yes,” Connly said, an odd look on his face. “The captain has certainly felt the same.”

He then told her about the arrival of the Rhovan delegation and how the captain revealed an assassin who had been one of Prince Tuandre’s advisors. Karigan listened raptly and was surprised when her fork hit the bottom of her bowl.

“It sounds like I’ve missed a lot of excitement,” she said.

Connly and Estral exchanged looks of disbelief.

“I guess,” she conceded, “it’s been a little exciting here, too.”

Estral’s expression was particularly pained.

“All right,” Karigan said, “more than a little.”

Connly was about to take a sip of tea when he paused. His eyes grew distant, glassy. He set the mug aside without looking, stood, and walked off without saying a word to stare into the dark.

“What’s that about?” Estral asked.

“Trace,” Karigan said.

“Ah.” Estral, who had spent so much time down at the wall with the Riders, was well acquainted with the ability that Trace and Connly shared. “Useful.”

“Yes.”

Connly laughed suddenly at something they could not hear.

“And a bit disconcerting,” Estral added.

“Very,” Karigan agreed. It had been disconcerting back when she and Trace had shared a tent. Trace would go into rapport with Connly and laugh and smile, seemingly at nothing. Karigan, of course, could only guess at what was transpiring between the two, but didn’t really want to know. “It’s very cold tonight,” she said. She could see her breath upon the air.

“Feels like winter is coming back.”

“What did you end up giving Rennard to take?”

“My harp brooch.”

“Your what?” That brooch was the badge of a minstrel, just as the winged horse was that of a Green Rider.

Estral shrugged. “It was the only thing that wasn’t a well-used handkerchief or dirty socks.”

Karigan laughed at the idea of Rennard going off to battle with Estral’s dirty socks, but neither of them spoke of the impending battle. She stood to ease her back.

“You all right?” Estral asked.

“Fine. Or what passes for fine these days.” She might not speak of the battle, but her thoughts were there. She wished to be with the king, to help as she could, but even with her ability she’d be a hindrance. She was still so weak and useless. She stopped herself when she realized the downward spiral of her thoughts. They sounded too like Nyssa.

Connly returned and warmed his hands over the fire. “They’ve been riding hard for Sacor City,” he said of Trace and the other Riders who had been assigned to the wall. “Trace says Dale is whining a lot.”

“About what?” Estral asked. “Being separated from Captain Wallace?”

Connly chuckled. “Not even. If you think about it, she’s been at the wall for close to two years. Without any regular message errands. She’s feeling the ride.”

Karigan smiled. Poor Dale. Had it really been that long? “Where are they?”

“They’ve stopped for the night in Cloverville.”

They’d still days to go before they reached Sacor City.

“It’ll be a race to see who reaches Sacor City first,” he said. “Trace and her group from the south, or Tegan from the north. Though, really, coming from the north is the longer ride. The sooner the queen gets word of the king, the better.”

Estral smiled.

“What is it?” Karigan asked.

“Huh?”

“That big smile.”

“Oh, when Connly mentioned Tegan. My father gave her messages for the dean and my masters, telling them that I am to be raised to master.”

Karigan and Connly congratulated her. Rising in the ranks of Selium took serious study, ability, and true life experience. Estral had likely surpassed all the requirements, but as her smile slowly died, Karigan said, “You don’t look as happy about it now.”

“I didn’t want him to go off with the others,” she replied.

Karigan could have spoken words of comfort, but words would not ensure the survival of Lord Fiori, or any of them. The words would only be false assurances, palliatives. There was no telling how it would all fall out, and she worried about the outcome for one man in particular. So, instead of words, she reached over and clasped Estral’s hand, and squeezed it.

“It is always hardest for those left behind,” Connly said, “those who must endure the uncertainty of the wait.”

Karigan shivered and pulled her collar up. It was going to be a long, cold night.