Blackveil (34 page)

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Authors: Kristen Britain

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: Blackveil
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“Like you think I won’t survive my first step into the forest. I volunteered for this duty.”
“You
volunteered?
”
“Don’t act so shocked. We can’t have you taking all the glory after all. I came to the captain as soon as I caught wind of the mission and offered my services.”
Karigan glanced at the captain whose expression was unreadable. Karigan wanted to tell her to pick someone else, someone less ... innocent. Well, not that Yates was
innocent
if all the rumors about his conquests with the ladies were true. But there were others, she was sure, more seasoned to the type of dangers Blackveil presented. But who? Who would
she
choose? Maybe Beryl, but Beryl was off on some mysterious errand for the king. Who else? But as she thought about it, no one came to mind that she would want to send into Blackveil and she could only conclude
all
the Riders were dear to her. They were family, even Beryl the scary spy and interrogator.
Now she understood in truth the difficult choices the captain had been confronted with and perhaps Yates’ volunteering had made the decision easier.
But still ... Yates? It just seemed wrong.
“You’ll need someone to see in the dark,” Yates said. “I hear Blackveil gets very dark.”
His special ability was exceptional night vision and it was true it would be useful in the forest, but it would not repel the vicious denizens of the forest or prevent them from eating him.
“But ... but it’s Blackveil!” she blurted. “It’s dangerous!”
“Don’t worry,” Yates replied. “I’ll protect you.”
Karigan’s mouth dropped open, but she could not manage a retort. It did not help that Captain Mapstone chuckled or that even taciturn Lynx smiled.
They quickly returned to business. The captain gave them a list of instructions to help her Riders prepare for departure, which was coming up fast—next week.
When they were dismissed, Lynx headed off on business of his own leaving Karigan to confront Yates just outside officers quarters. She cuffed him on the shoulder.
“Are you mad?” she demanded. “Volunteering to go into Blackveil?”
“If so,” Yates said, “then I am in good company.” He sauntered off whistling, leaving her on the pathway to stew. She was torn between running after Yates and asking him to change his mind, and returning to Captain Mapstone’s quarters to plead with her to reconsider. She did neither. Yates, for all his jokes and lightheartedness, was a man full grown and entitled to make his own decisions, and confronting Captain Mapstone might be construed as challenging her command.
Instead she went to the stables thinking Condor could use a good turn with a currycomb.
Over the next couple of days the trio of Riders appeared at the quartermaster’s to get outfitted for their journey. Blackveil was a different kind of environment and they would be on foot, not on horseback. They were fitted with boots normally reserved for the infantry, and piled down with tents, spare woolens, stockings, and oilskin cloaks.
Lynx was additionally presented with extra bundles of arrows, spare bow strings, and the haft of an ax. Most Riders bore sabers and long knives, but Lynx preferred his stout forester’s knife, longbow, and throwing ax. He checked the balance of the new haft and pronounced it acceptable.
Then it was off to a briefing with General Harborough in his office in the administrative wing of the castle, and for the first time the Riders got a look at the others who would be accompanying them. They were two soldiers from the army, large and muscular, and a third man, more slight in stature, and introduced as Gillard Ardmont, a forester of Coutre Province.
The general sat behind his oversized desk, medals on his chest gleaming in the lamplight and an attentive aide at his side taking notes.
“When we enter Blackveil,” the general said, folding beefy hands on the desk before him, “our objective is largely one of observation.”
“He going with us?” Yates whispered to Karigan with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“You have something to say, Rider Cardell?” General Harborough asked in a booming voice that made Yates flinch.
“N-no, sir.”
“Good. Then listen up. This is no holiday jaunt you’re going on.”
Maybe,
Karigan thought,
if Yates heard it often enough he’d reconsider his decision to volunteer.
“The Eletians say,” the general continued, “that they want to see what has become of their land since the D’Yer Wall was erected, but express nothing further of their intentions. His Highness would like to know what more they are after, if anything. Keep in mind the Eletians invited us along and they have not yet shown themselves to be our enemies.” The general looked plainly skeptical on this point but continued, “I expect courtesy and diplomacy in dealing with them. Am I clear?”
“YES, SIR!” the two soldiers bellowed, almost bowling Karigan out of her chair.
This was followed by less emphatic affirmations from the Riders and the forester.
This expedition, Karigan thought, was going to be interesting.
“The king wants you to keep your eyes open to learn anything about the forest you can, especially if it’s something that may help us against Mornhavon the Black when he returns. You will come back with detailed reports. You will report directly to the king upon your return. Take note of roads and ruins, the landscape and wildlife. I fear no maps of the region exist so you will be following the lead of the Eletians, an untenable situation to my mind. Therefore a vital facet of your mission is to make some maps. Rider Cardell?”
“Er, yes? Sir?”
“Your captain says you’re an able cartographer. I will expect detailed renderings.”
Yates looked pleased, and now Karigan knew, beyond the fact he’d volunteered to join the expedition, why Captain Mapstone agreed to let him go. And like it or not, it was true he was a good draftsman. With all the new Riders that had joined their ranks, Yates had busied himself copying extra maps for them, and even instructing the Riders on how to read them. He’d in fact been, before the Rider call, an apprentice at his father’s press, which printed, among other things, maps.
“Lieutenant Grant here is also experienced at documenting and surveying. He will assist.”
“Yes, sir!” Yates replied.
“That’s what I like,” the general said. “A good show of enthusiasm. Now perhaps Sir Karigan can provide us with some insight about what we might expect in the forest itself.”
Everyone looked at Karigan and she looked back at them, surprised to be suddenly put on the spot.
“You were briefly in Blackveil, were you not?” the general asked.
“Yes, but ... but I don’t recall much about it. It was ... it was a difficult situation.” She was not ready to explain to the strangers in the room that she’d been possessed at the time by the spirit of the First Rider. And Mornhavon the Black, too.
By the way the soldiers gazed at her she could tell her stumbling response did not impress them one bit. The forester’s regard was different, more intense. The general’s expression changed as he seemed to remember the nature of her one foray into Blackveil. Surely he’d been informed of the details. He cleared his throat.
“Then perhaps the reports from Rider D’Yer will prove more instructive,” he said. All of them had probably heard rumors about the forest. Since rumors were not the most reliable source of information, the general briefed them on the little that was truly known, relying heavily on Alton’s reports. He explained that some of the creatures within the forest had been magically modified by Mornhavon, changed into monstrosities more perilous than any natural creature. Even the plant life had grown dangerous with thorns that held poisons. The ground they walked upon could prove unreliable, full of quagmires and misleading paths.
“You will be using all your skills to safely navigate the forest,” the general said. “I do not know precisely what attributes the Eletians will be bringing to the expedition, but I think you must assume you’ll have to watch out for yourselves.
“Lieutenant Grant will command. Rider Lynx is second in command. Is that clear?”
This time Karigan was expecting the loud confirmation from the soldiers and steeled herself for it.
Afterward, the general sat quietly regarding them for several moments with a solemn expression, then said, “His Majesty is well aware of the gravity of this mission. He is deeply confident you will succeed in bringing back useful intelligence. He expresses his gratitude for your service, and he salutes your courage. May the gods look out for you on your journey. For king and country!”
The soldiers leaped to their feet.
“For king and country!”
The general then excused all but Lieutenant Grant and Lynx. Karigan filed out into the corridor with the others. Without a word, the second soldier, Private Porter, marched off to whatever duty awaited him.
For an awkward moment, Karigan and Yates stood there outside the general’s door with the forester.
“This’ll be some job, eh?” Gillard Ardmont said.
Karigan and Yates had to agree it would.
“Friends call me ‘Ard,’ ” the forester said. “Don’t know whether it’s short for Gillard or Ardmont, but there you are.”
They laughed and shook hands, and Karigan and Yates formally introduced themselves.
“You I’ve heard of,” he told Karigan. “I know my Lord Coutre holds you in some regard.”
“He awarded her the Order of the Cormorant,” Yates said with pride. Karigan felt her cheeks warm.
“Did he now. Well I look forward to traveling with you both and learning more.” He touched his forehead in a sort of salute and wandered off.
“Pleasant enough fellow,” Yates said, “but I’m surprised the general didn’t just pick another soldier.”
“I suspect Lord Coutre suggested him,” Karigan replied, “to ensure our future queen’s interests are looked after.”
Yates stared at her.
“What?” she demanded.
“You’re getting pretty good with the politics.”
Karigan sighed. “I don’t know if
good
is the right word.” And she and Yates struck off down the corridor toward the Rider wing. She certainly didn’t feel any good at politics, and she did not want anything to do with politicians, but there were going to be times when it couldn’t be avoided, and after everything Captain Mapstone had told her during their conversation about the masquerade ball, it appeared it would be more difficult than ever to steer clear of the machinations of the court.
When she was in Blackveil she didn’t expect she’d be worrying much about politics. No, she would have bigger problems to contend with. Politics, at least, didn’t like to eat you.
With this cheery thought in mind, she and Yates arrived at the Rider wing, only to find half a dozen Weapons blocking the way like an impenetrable wall of black.
BONEWOOD
“W
hoa,”
Yates intoned beside Karigan.
Karigan could well appreciate Yates’ reaction. One Weapon alone was imposing enough, but a whole group of them was positively formidable. She wondered what had brought them to the Rider wing.
She did not have to wait long to find out it was herself.
Fastion, whom she used to think of as “granite face,” stepped forward. “Sir Karigan, if you would accompany us please.” It was not so much a request as an order.
“Why—” she began, but they swiftly closed ranks around her, neatly edging out Yates. The next thing she knew they were striding away from the Rider wing, with her at the center of their formation and Fastion leading.
“Karigan?” Yates called out from somewhere behind.
“I’ll be fine,” she answered, though a little uncertainly.
She knew each of the Weapons around her, or she at least knew their names, but little more. It was not easy to get close to them, to penetrate their world, though Karigan had gotten closer than most. They considered her an honorary member of their order.

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