Green Rider

Bats, drawn to the insects hovering above their heads, careened in the air around them.

“I brought Joy’s brooch with me.”

“Yes. The brooches do have a way of finding their way home.” Captain Mapstone rubbed the dark scar on her throat. “You brought it here among other things, including a very curious crystal. Tell me Karigan G’ladheon, how a schoolgirl managed to get herself involved in Green Rider affairs. I don’t want any omissions.”

Karigan sighed, but The Horse, Condor, she had to remind herself, nuzzled her knee in encouragement. She started with the beginning, all the way back to the fight with Timas Mirwell and the private sessions with Arms Master Rendle.

“I met Rendle,” Captain Mapstone said. “Before I left Selium, he spoke with me—at your father’s behest—to urge me to do my utmost to find you.” The captain smiled briefly. “Your father had already persuaded me to do so, but I guess he thought that adding Master Rendle’s voice to the cause would ensure my cooperation without a doubt.”

Karigan smiled faintly in return, knowing just how persuasive her father could be.

“Rendle was very concerned about you,” the captain continued. “Said you were the brightest student he had had in a long time. You would do well to continue lessons with him. He also believed you were innocent of mischief in that swordfight with young Mirwell, and has since been trying to clear your name.”

Karigan was surprised and touched by this, wishing suddenly to be sitting in Selium’s field house, sewing together pieces of worn fighting gear, and listening to Master Rendle’s advice and tales.

She continued her own narrative, jumping on the ground when the railing grew too uncomfortable to sit on. Captain Mapstone sat silhouetted against the night sky, as unmoving as a Weapon, and watching her with an intensity that was disquieting. Every so often she touched her winged horse brooch, and Karigan had the feeling of being tested, especially when she told of communicating with the ghost of F’ryan Coblebay. She described the Berry sisters, and recounted her fight with the creature of Kanmorhan Vane, and the help provided by the gray eagle Softfeather and the Eletian, Somial.

“Curious you should mention an Eletian,” the captain murmured. Then she motioned for Karigan to continue.

She told of Immerez, and Jendara and Torne, and of her flight to the waystation in North. She paused and stared at the captain. “You’re alive! You’re the Mapstone mentioned in the book at the waystation. You survived.”

“I’m no ghost, if that’s what you mean.” The captain actually chuckled. “Close calls come to all Green Riders. So far in your story, you’ve had as many as some.”

Karigan spoke of Abram Rust, the forest, Joy’s body in a horse cart, Lorilie Dorran, the gray-cloaked Shadow Man, and the Wild Ride.

“The Wild Ride,” the captain said. “They—the guards and the counselors—didn’t know what you were when you arrived. A blur, a twist of wind, they said. Sacoridia has not heard the like of it for a thousand years. How did you do it?”

“I—I didn’t do it,” Karigan said.

“Are you so sure?”

“The ghosts—”

“Ghosts. I don’t know.”

The scent of grass was heavy in the damp air, crickets chirruped in the distance, and fireflies left behind tiny blind spots in Karigan’s eyes.

“Yes,” Captain Mapstone said as if to herself. “You are fortunate the king and his counselors are busy with their guest. Let me see your wrists, Karigan.”

They had healed so quickly that she hadn’t needed to dress them the last few nights, but the burns had left scars of melted flesh that shined in the moonlight.

“The burns were from the blood of a creature from Kanmorhan Vane?” Captain Mapstone asked.

Karigan nodded.

“Interesting. Those black arrows were made with wood from Kanmorhan Vane. Your Shadow Man works with very old and evil magic. I can only guess what torment they caused F’ryan and Joy.”

“I think they’re still in pain,” Karigan said. Two black-shafted arrows protrude from a blood-dampened back that will not dry, Miss Bunchberry had said.

“I fear that our troubles are greater than I already thought,” Captain Mapstone said. “I begin to wonder how this gray-cloaked character is connected to Mirwell.” Then she looked at Karigan with a grim smile. “You outran two black arrows on the Wild Ride. Karigan, you are no ordinary schoolgirl.”

Karigan did not know whether or not to take it as a compliment. This Captain Mapstone was difficult to read, an admirable trait in a merchant, but otherwise frustrating. “What now?” she asked.

The captain jumped from the fence to her feet, and slowly stretched her back with a grimace. “This damp is getting to my bones,” she said. “What now, indeed. The counselors have dismissed the message you carried through such peril.”

“What?” It was unthinkable! “People tried to kill me . . . The Mirwellians . . .”

Captain Mapstone nodded. “The message speaks of events that have long since passed. The counselors refuse to take it seriously. Gods be cursed!” She pounded her fist into her other hand. “I expected the message to bear news of some Mirwellian plot and the whereabouts of Prince Amilton. From your story, it sounds as if my suspicions are on track, but I’ve nothing to back it up with. The counselors must hear how the Mirwellians were so intent to stop you. F’ryan and Joy were effectively stopped. There is much to indicate a plot, but they won’t listen to me now that their attention is focused on their visitor. I’ve some Riders working on the message to see if it’s in code. It seems straightforward, however.”