First Rider's Call (56 page)

She supposed he asked her since she was a user of magic, but she had no magical answers, with the exception of the first.

“The stream the man is talking about is tidal, and when the tide goes out, it seems to reverse itself.” She was glad of her coastal upbringing, and that she knew of such a stream, and had even played in one as a child.

The king questioned the man further, learning he was new to the coast and unfamiliar with the workings of the tides. It became evident that the talk of other strange events in the countryside led him to believe the stream out of the ordinary.

The other questions Karigan had to mull over for a few moments. From her recent conversation with Prince Jametari, she knew the disruptions of magic would continue until either the world found balance with the influx from Blackveil, or the D’Yer Wall was mended, effectively shutting it off. There was no easy way to explain this to these folk without causing the very mayhem the king wished to avoid.

“I would handle them as you would any other petition, in terms they understand,” Karigan said, “since there isn’t much we can do about the magic, except reassure them that we’re looking into it.”

When the king waited for further explanation, she added, “The fellow whose neighbor’s hoe turned to gold? He’s jealous. The woman whose husband vanished, well, she’s now got eight children to provide for on her own. She is, in effect, a widow.”

The king’s features lightened. “I see what you’re getting at.”

And so, following her inspiration, he questioned the fellow further about the golden hoe. True to the word, he was jealous of his neighbor as much as he was upset by the magic. When drawn out further, he admitted his neighbor was known for his generosity, and had planned to share his wealth with the village. Placated and reassured the king was aware of the situation, the fellow departed satisfied.

The king ordered a widow’s dispensation for the woman whose husband had vanished, payable until such time as he reappeared. Though grieving openly for her missing husband, the “widow” left knowing her children would not go hungry.

While the king handled other cases with similar success, there was little he could do to assuage the general anxiety among people that something magical might happen without warning, and with disastrous effect.

Throughout it all, Colin took notes on each and every case, at once reaffirming to the petitioners their concerns were being heard, and ensuring the king and his advisors had a record of each magical incident so it might be examined later for patterns.

As the day wore on, the king asked her once or twice for her assessment on the character of certain petitioners. Her merchant background served her well. She was able to inform him a tradesman was “hiding something,” and a horse merchant was exaggerating the quality of her stock, and thus was not so injured by the plaintiff as she claimed.

The king agreed with her appraisals, and she had the sense of being tested, for the king was much too practiced in hearing petitions to really need her intervention. Nevertheless, he seemed pleased with her responses, and she found herself basking in his approval.

Karigan provided her opinion when requested, with pride in herself as a Green Rider blossoming and growing as she did so. It was odd how earlier in the day she had doubted herself and feared that the duality within her might lead her into doing something that would cause the downfall of all that was good in the world. She had dissolved her doubts standing at the king’s side today. Had she not done well?

It was then that Lil Ambrioth appeared, a faint glimmering standing slightly behind an oblivious petitioner. There was enough of Lil to see her smile, a smile of affirmation of Karigan’s place as a Green Rider.

That was all Lil’s brief appearance allowed. A smile.

The king, true to his word, saw every last petitioner in line. The bell in the city tolling the evening hour, and the darkening sky outside startled Karigan. It was only when she knew the time that she realized how weary and hungry she was.

When the great oak doors shut behind the last petitioner, the king sighed and stood, stretching his arms above his head and stomping his feet to awaken them. For some reason, Karigan found it surprising, and she had to remind herself that her king wasn’t a statue, but flesh and blood like everyone else.

He glanced at her and she straightened. “Relax, Rider, you’ve been standing like that all afternoon.”

She did as he suggested, and found herself stiff and aching.

Sperren, looking more frail than ever, excused himself, pleading exhaustion. The king did not hesitate to give him leave.

“Long day,” Colin said. “I feared it was going to turn nasty there for a while. Good thing Rider G’ladheon found our errant herald.”

“Truly,” the king said.

“Do you wish to discuss the day’s audience, sire?” Colin asked.

“No. I shall reserve it for tomorrow. Get some food and rest, my friend.”

Colin looked relieved and departed with a bow.

The king turned back to Karigan, his hands clasped behind his back. “You wished to speak to me about your message errand.”

“Yes, Excellency. It will take some explaining. I—”

“What happened to you?” he asked suddenly, drawing his eyebrows together. “Have you been injured all this time and I didn’t realize it?”

“Injured?”

Before she could even guess at what he was talking about, he was down the dais and next to her, examining the slash of her sleeve.

“Nothing I can see . . .” he said. “Just a torn sleeve?”

Karigan recovered enough to answer, “Um, yes. In a manner of speaking.”

“In a manner of speaking? Would this be a part of your tale?”

Karigan nodded.

The king sighed. “We need supper before one of us perishes from hunger. While we’re eating, you may tell me of your eventful errand to Childrey.”

With but a flick of his hand, he was surrounded by servants who relieved him of his royal mantle and fillet, handed him a goblet of wine, helped him slip into a dusky blue longcoat, and generally fussed around him. A contingent of Weapons arrived to relieve those who had guarded the king all day in the throne room.

Before Karigan knew it, they were off, exiting the throne room through the side door hidden behind a tapestry. The king set the pace in long strides, as if finally finding some release for all his pent-up energy.

He was leading them to his study. As if anticipating the king’s arrival, the elderly kennel master appeared in the corridor ahead, with three terriers. Upon seeing the king, they barked joyously and strained at their tethers. The kennel master laughed and loosed them. All three dogs bounded to the king, leaping up against his legs, snuffling his feet and sneezing, their short white tails whipping back and forth.

The king laughed, too, shedding his more serious demeanor in exchange for one of pure happiness as he patted heads and scratched behind ears. The sudden transformation took Karigan by surprise, but on reflection, he frequently surprised her.

The Weapons and servants stood by, unruffled by the king’s display and the antics of the terriers. Once the pandemonium died down, they set off again, the terriers trotting at the king’s heels, toenails clicking on the stone floor.

Before arriving at the king’s study, a servant whisked Karigan off into a side chamber where she was provided with a wash basin and towels, and the opportunity to take care of other necessities before she sat to supper.

Her expression must have been dazed, for the servant said, “Don’t worry, dearie, the king will treat you kindly. Why, he often supped with your captain after a day’s work.”

Karigan smiled weakly, and set to washing up.

A simple supper of cold goose, boiled eggs, fresh greens, and bread was laid out on a small table in the study. Weapons remained outside guarding the entrances from the castle corridor and the courtyard gardens.

A couple of servants remained in the study to refill their cups, to carve the goose, and to see to their needs. The three terriers sat on their haunches, watching the proceedings with tongues lolling. One in particular eyed Karigan’s every move, obviously hoping she would drop some morsel on the floor. His interest was unmistakable.

The king chuckled. “It seems Finder the Second has high hopes for you. Don’t give in, for Pyram spoils them atrociously in the kennels.” He then spoke at length about the foibles of his various terriers, much at ease.

Karigan was not.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked.

She jerked her gaze to him, startled to find she had been only half listening to his words.

“You’re picking at your food,” he said.

“I’m fine,” she said. She had been hungry, but now she found she was too nervous to eat.

Nervous?
Well, it wasn’t every day one shared a private meal with one’s king.

He set his fork down and leaned back into his chair, gauging her. “Is it the tale you’ve to tell me that’s bothering you?”

“Yes,” she lied.

“You must forgive my insensitivity for making you wait all this time, but I dared not delay the audience. It was a difficult position I imposed on you, and I hoped a respite would—”

One should not interrupt a king, but Karigan did. “Please, it’s all right. A little wait will not change my tale.”

“I would like to hear it now, then.”

Karigan took a sip of wine. This was not going to be easy. “First I need to tell you I’ve—I’ve visited with, the First Rider.”

The king raised both eyebrows in surprise, but said nothing so she might continue and explain.

And she did, just as she had with Mara, starting from the beginning.

“Extraordinary,” the king murmured when she paused, his eyes wide.

Karigan continued with her experiences at Watch Hill. When she finished that part of the tale, the king slumped in his chair with his chin on his hand, his expression incredulous.

“When you told me you had an ‘eventful’ message errand, I wasn’t expecting it to be quite this eventful. Tell me, do you know what is precipitating your travels into the past?”

“That brings me to the next part of the tale,” she said.

“There’s more?”

Karigan nodded. “The Eletians—”

“Yes, Excellency.”

He held up his hand to forestall her further and ordered his manservant to bring out an aged stash of brandy.

“I think we both need some before you continue,” the king said. “At least
I
do.”

Karigan watched him rub his temples as the brandy was served. She well understood his incredulity, for she barely had time to digest the events herself.

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “You are a wonder, Rider.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “Coming from anyone else, I might not believe it at all.”

Karigan found herself blushing, and hurriedly—too hurriedly—swallowed a mouthful of brandy, only to gag as it burned down her throat. The manservant quickly provided her with water and clapped her on her back. Doubly embarrassed, Karigan thought her face must also be doubly red. At least it could be passed off as the brandy.

There was nothing left for her to do but tell the king of the Eletian aspect of her tale. She told of Prince Jametari’s explanation of magic leaking through the breach in the D’Yer Wall and upsetting the balance of magic in the lands. Reluctantly she revealed the wild magic that still resided within her to explain the traveling, but she did not mention the “duality,” not wanting to give the king a reason to doubt her. She also downplayed any threat the Eletians might pose to her.

When she finished, the king sat deep in thought, running his forefinger across the carved armrest of his chair. All three dogs lay at his feet. Finder was snoring.

Presently he said, “This Prince Jametari was Shawdell’s father?” At her nod, he continued, “Then I’m not so sure we can believe all he says.”

“I do.”

King Zachary did not gainsay her. “I must admit his words make sense. But Argenthyne?” He shook his head. “It is like the stories my nursemaid used to tell me when I was a lad.” His shoulders sagged. “If only we knew more of magic. How can I defend my people against it? I can’t have citizens vanishing and forest groves turning to stone at random. As more and more of this occurs, the populace will grow more disturbed, and then what? How am I to protect them?”

An awkward silence followed, and feeling a need to say something useful, Karigan said, “If Alton can fix the breach, then balance should return to—” The king’s expression crumbled, and suddenly he looked very, very haggard. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

King Zachary stood, his eyes ineffably sad.

Alarmed, Karigan stood, too. “Please, please tell me—is it Alton? Has something happened?”