Green Rider

“Immerez may have stopped the Greenie. Even if he has not, we go on. We are equipped for a siege if need be.” The prince turned to the captain, and in an uncompromising tone he said, “No matter what, we shall proceed. It is all I have left, and I shall take it. If I hear one murmur of dissent, we will have an immediate execution. Do I make myself clear?”

The captain bowed his head hastily. “Yes, my lord.”

Amilton placed his hands on Jendara’s shoulders again, and she shrank from him though he did not call on the magic. He pulled her close. “I am glad you have returned to me.” He kissed her with greatest tenderness on her swollen cheek.“Now you will ride beside me and protect me as you have sworn.”

“As I have sworn,” she whispered through her broken mouth.

“Then take your place beside me.”

She staggered to her feet and stumbled to the battle horse’s side as if in a daze. She tried several times before her toe found the stirrup and she dragged herself into the saddle. She reined her horse beside Amilton’s. Hunched over the saddle horn, she whispered to him, “I serve with my life.”

THE HUNTING

A day slipped by, and another, and still Karigan heard nothing about the letter, nor did she see Captain Mapstone at all. In fact, no one in particular, not even a single Weapon, paid her any attention except for Alton, who had nothing else to do, and Mel, who was as cheerful as ever, but for once couldn’t shed any light on the situation.

“Just as I told you before, I haven’t seen the captain since the night before last,” Mel said, plopping on Karigan’s bed.

Karigan secured her bedroll to her pack which the kitchen servants had filled with food. She slung the pack over one shoulder and a water skin over the other. “I’m out of it, then. I’ve done my part, and I’m going home.”

“Do you have to?” Mel’s eyes looked sad. “I haven’t had another girl to talk to in so long.”

How lonely it must be for her to live in a world of adults who possessed adult problems and no imaginations whatsoever. “I have to go home. My father will be expecting me. Maybe . . . maybe he will come trading here in the fall and I can come with him.”

“Maybe the captain will let me visit you.” There was the sound of hope in Mel’s voice.

“I don’t see why not.” Such an excursion would be good for her. Maybe Mel hadn’t even been outside of the city walls before. “Guess I’m ready.”

Karigan walked down the main corridor of the barracks, Mel in tow behind her. The corridor was empty; Green Riders were scattered across the countryside on messenger errands.

They emerged outdoors, the sun falling warmly on their shoulders more like summer than spring. Karigan walked along the railing that lined the horse pasture, squinting her eyes to pick out a familiar friend, to say good-bye.

“What are you looking for?” Mel asked.

“The Horse. All of the others seem to be out, but not him.”

“Condor? He’s in the stable.”

Karigan wondered about that, and about the mischievous smile on Mel’s face. They walked on into the stable, blinking until their eyes adjusted to the sudden dark. Alton D’Yer stood in the aisle between the stalls, holding the reins of his tall black gelding, who, with white socks and a white blaze down his nose, had earned the name Night Hawk. As always, Alton looked immaculate, as did his horse and gear. He gave her a lopsided grin and patted Night Hawk’s neck. “Where are you going?” he asked.

Karigan frowned. Corsa, of course. She had told him time and again. “Home.”

“Must be a long walk.”

Karigan placed her hands on her hips in annoyance. “I’ll catch a ferry down on the river.”

“But you have a Green Rider uniform on. It wouldn’t look right for you to be traveling on foot.”

“What do you want me to do? Go in the nude?” Alton snickered at that, but Karigan ignored it. “I suppose I have enough currency left to buy something so I can get rid of this green outfit.”

“Green is your color.” This time Alton was not joking. “Why not ride instead?”

“I can’t afford a horse.”

“I don’t know what Condor would say to that.”

Mel had disappeared into an adjacent section of the stable, only to return with a tacked and groomed Condor. He whickered in greeting. “He’s all set to go to Corsa,” Mel said.

“What?” Karigan looked at Mel, then at Alton, her mouth hanging open. “But he’s not mine.”

Alton said, “These messenger horses are particular about their Riders. You are Condor’s Rider, whether you choose to join the messenger service or not. Captain Mapstone said giving him to you was the least we could do to thank you for delivering F’ryan’s message.”

Karigan took the reins from Mel and looked up at Condor. “So you think you can put up with me?”

Condor snorted and shook his head, the bridle jingling.

Karigan smiled broadly. “I guess he will.” A mount would make her journey far easier. She would still find a way to get rid of the green uniform, though.

“Karigan,” Alton said, “I would . . . I . . . well, it would please me . . .What I want to say . . .”

One moment he was speaking as a polished aristocrat should, the next he couldn’t speak at all. She wished he would just blurt out what it was he wanted.