Green Rider (26 page)

"You think about Kari," Sevano said.

Stevic nodded. "She's my daughter… just a baby."

"Oh, no—no baby is she! Young, yes, but no baby. You know she's got herself into plenty of scrapes before. It's just like her to go home on her own. No waiting around for you to arrive, not with the humiliation this suspension must have caused her. I know G'ladheon pride, I do." He chuckled. "If you were her, you'd do the same."

Stevic smiled. "I did do something similar when I was her age. I joined a merchant barge, but—"

"But she is still your baby," Sevano shook his head. "She has jumped from her nest, her wings spread. You would prevent this?"

"No, of course not. I… Well, you heard all the whisperings of strange things happening as we traveled here. By Breyan's gold, Sevano, strange things were happening all winter. The tree folk have been seen outside of the Elt Wood for the first time in at least a hundred years, and you heard about groundmites crossing the borders just as I did. Are you saying I shouldn't be worried about my daughter?"

"No." The older man stared into his tankard and listlessly picked up a piece of yellow cheese which he tossed back onto the plate. "I worry, too. But remember, I taught her many things about survival, and that Rendle sounds like a good man. I'm sure she learned much from him."

"You both taught her swordplay. I don't expect she has a sword of her own."

"I taught her much more than the sword, I did. She could use her bare hands to defend herself. Like a niece she is to me, too, though no blood do we share."

The two sat in silence for many minutes. The very air pressed on their shoulders. They were awakened from their individual reveries as the door creaked open and blinding sunlight poured into the common room. A young man stepped across the threshold, hesitating a moment until his eyes adjusted to the dim interior. He was dressed in a waistcoat of green over a white linen shirt. His breeches and the coat he carried draped over his forearm were green as well. A saber sheathed in a plain black scabbard was strapped to his waist.

Stevic watched as the Green Rider searched the depths of the common room. The messenger's eyes registered in sudden recognition and he strode toward them, the soles of his boots making no sound on the wooden floor. Stevic wondered what the Rider would want with them, but he didn't stop at their table. Rather, he continued on to the booth behind them. Stevic couldn't see who the young man sat with because of the high backing of the booth, but he instantly recognized the voice.

"Connly," said Captain Mapstone. "Good to see you. How was the road?"

The Rider murmured something imperceptible, and Stevic strained to hear.

"I need you to contact Joy about F'ryan and his missing message. We need every available Rider scouring all roads and towns. Those who are on a run must keep their eyes open. There's no telling where that message is, or if it even still exists. Maybe someone took it from him, or maybe his horse is running loose with the message still snug in its satchel. We must find out. Also, be sure to warn Joy of the manner of his death."

Connly murmured some more, but Stevic couldn't make out a word of it.

"I don't know," Captain Mapstone replied. "Though I think it very odd that his brooch was missing. It could—"

Whatever she was about to say was cut short by a clamor outside. Stevic looked out his window, but could only see people rushing into the street. "What do you suppose that's all about?" he asked Sevano.

"Dunno." Sevano took a final swig of ale and wiped his sleeve across his mouth. "Let's have a look."

Stevic was reluctant to leave the conversation he had been eavesdropping on, but the booth had become silent anyway. Undoubtedly, the two Green Riders were distracted by the shouting from outside as well. Stevic pushed his tankard aside and followed Sevano out into the glare of sunshine. He pushed through onlookers to see what was causing such excitement, and stopped in shock.

A fallen horse and rider lay in the middle of the street. Blood foamed from the heaving horse's mouth. A youth of dark complexion lay dazed beside it, one leg pinned beneath the horse. Some of the onlookers attempted to free him. The boy seemed oblivious to what was happening around him.

"They killed them," the boy cried. "They killed the master… Master Ione… everyone. They killed everyone but me! Monsters… like men, but not…" The boy's sobs rang out over the stunned crowd.

"I believe that's Urath of the Under Kingdoms," a woman said behind Stevic's right shoulder. "Son of aus-Corien, pack leader of T-katnya. He was on a field trip with his class."

"Someone ought to inform the dean," a man said.

Stevic turned away. The boy's whimpering carried over the chatter of the crowd. The boy's face was clear of tattoos, making him an adolescent who hadn't yet made the great hunt, the traditional rite to become a man of the pack. "He's Karigan's age," he said to Sevano.

"Aye. Well do I know it."

Captain Mapstone watched the commotion from the steps of the inn. Her expression was thoughtful. Stevic walked over to her purposefully, and she shook out of some uncomfortable reverie as he approached.

"Groundmites," she said. "Those monsters he saw were groundmites."

Stevic felt his stomach lurch. Where was his daughter? "Captain, I would ask a favor."

She raised a copper brow. "A merchant always seeks favors at no cost to himself, which he rarely repays."

Stevic's cheeks burned in anger. "Perhaps it's true with some merchants, just as it's true with some minstrels, soldiers, craftmasters, farmers, and ferrymen, but I am not of that nature."

Captain Mapstone's expression remained unaltered and she did not apologize. "What favor do you ask?"

"It would… It would mean much to me if your Riders could watch for a young girl, the same age as this youth here who now lies in the street. She has disappeared and— and she's my daughter. I believe she is traveling toward Corsa, but who can say if something ill has befallen her?"

The captain blinked, but it was her only change of expression. "Green Riders aren't in the habit of searching for runaways, Chief, and at the moment we're involved in—

"I implore you, Captain." Stevic's voice cracked as he spoke. "My daughter has been missing for weeks. She is all I have left since… since my wife died…"

"Surely taking the girl's description and passing it on to your Riders won't distract them from their duty." Stevic had forgotten Sevano behind him, and was suddenly grateful for his presence. "It is but a small thing to ask. She is young and alone. What if she meets up with groundmites like that lad yonder?"

"I will more than repay you if your people can find Karigan." Stevic looked hopefully at her. They were now eye level, the steps she stood on helping her to meet his gaze.

He saw her expression soften just the least bit. "I will make donations to your unit. I'll—I'll re-outfit your Riders."

Now there was a perceptible hint of a smile on her face.

She turned toward the interior of the inn. "Connly! I need you to take a description. Come listen, and listen well." As the young man trotted to the doorway, she turned back to Stevic and said, "I intend to keep you to your end of the bargain."

SWORDMASTERS

Karigan and her captors walked in the same formation as they had the previous day. Garroty sat upon his horse, talking down at Tome who strode beside him. Jendara, leading The Horse, walked next to Karigan. Karigan had spent an unpleasant night listening to Torne and Garroty swap tales and make suggestive, if not entirely vulgar, comments about her. She hadn't slept all night, and now her eyelids sagged as she stumbled down the road.

Her wrists itched. Either they were healing from the burns, or they were getting worse. The rope that bound her wrists made it impossible to check beneath the old, dirty dressings that covered the wounds.

Jendara had kept silent all day. Torne and Garroty directed some comments her way, too. She merely scowled at their backs, as if to burn holes through them with her eyes.

"I'd castrate those two."

Karigan tripped over a rock. Jendara's speaking aloud was unexpected enough. Her words, even more so. "Why don't you?"

Jendara chuckled. "Two of them against me, and one a swordmaster at that? The odds are a bit precarious, don't you think?"

"I'd help."

"Very helpful you would be. I doubt you can even lift that sword fastened to your saddle. All they need Greenies to do is ride."

Karigan, of course, had little idea of what Green Riders were capable of, but was certain she could surprise even Jendara with a few of the skills she had learned, whether Jendara was a swordmaster or not.

"This road goes on forever," Karigan said.

"It was built long ago to breach the northern wilderness." Jendara's reply was again unexpected. "Where do you think all the pulp that makes paper comes from? There isn't nearly the expanse of woods to the south."

Ribbons of sun dropped through the trees, leaving puddles of light on the road and in the woods. Karigan caught movement in the woods out of the corner of her eye. She looked closely, but at first she couldn't focus on the shape. She blinked, and the shape slowly defined itself into a man, another traveler walking abreast of them in the woods, fading in and out of the shadows, weaving between the trees, striding swiftly and unhindered through the underbrush, as if he were on a smooth road.

His passage was silent, not a snap of a twig to be heard, not a single bird flushed from cover. Tall ferns and tree limbs swayed in a breeze—not from the touch of the man who seemed to pass right through without brushing a thing. The Horse whickered and watched the traveler, his ears pricked forward.

"What does he see?" Jendara asked. She looked right at the traveler and… through him. Torne and Garroty chattered, oblivious to the newcomer.

Karigan narrowed her eyes and saw the traveler's pale face, and two arrows sticking from his back. F'ryan Coblebay. He turned to her, still keeping pace with them. His mouth worked as if he were trying to tell her something, but she couldn't hear words. He kept speaking until he passed through the shadow of a tall hemlock and disappeared.

The Horse champed the bit and sidestepped in a skittish way. Maybe he could hear the voice of the ghost.

Watch as she might throughout the day, Karigan saw no further signs of F'ryan Coblebay. What message had he been trying to convey? Jendara had asked, at one point, what it was she saw, or expected to see, in the woods.

"Just ghosts," she said matter-of-factly. "A spirit follows me."

Jendara frowned. The two men overheard, and while Garroty guffawed loudly, Torne growled. "I ought to cut your tongue out. Your superstitious talk won't work with me."

"You actually sound worried, Torne." Tobacco juice slapped the road. Garroty wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Are you superstitious? You, a swordmaster and grown man?"

Torne glowered. "Of course not. Those Mirwellian fools brought it up first, and this Greenie is trying to make us nervous. Won't work, Greenie, won't work."

Karigan shrugged. She had spoken plain truth which she believed Torne and Jendara must have sensed despite their protests, for they began searching the woods with their eyes, and their pace had picked up.

Garroty chuckled. "All of this plain living has gotten to you. Why, if you had stayed with the Talons a little longer, we could've taught you a few things."

"We are comfortable where we are." Now Garroty had managed to prickle even Torne. "As comfortable as we ever were in Sacor City. Why
we
were sent on this mission, we don't know and will not question. What my lord wills, my lord receives, and time spent with the Talons has nothing to do with it."