Mantle: The Return of the Sha (16 page)

“No, you hadn’t told me. As for the Lopers, they are fascinating, and also very gentle, it seems. I have spoken to one of them several times now, but I will tell you all about it when we can talk privately.”

She would tell Dorian of her meetings with Pike, but she thought it better if no one else knew, including her brother and sister. She wasn’t sure it was proper for one of the king’s outer butlers to visit with her, and she had no intention of causing problems for Pike. They had ventured into the abandoned section of the castle twice since their first meeting, and she now considered Pike to be a trusted friend.

“You’ve met them?” Dorian asked in a voice of disbelief. The sound carried farther than Lizabet would have liked.

“Yes, but
hush
, you mustn’t tell anyone of it, not even Jonattan and Bella. We will speak of it later,” she said in a whisper.

“All right, but I will hold you to that, Lizabet Abbot,” he said with a grin.

They walked back to where Bella and Jonattan had been standing, watching their reunion. The four of them stood for a moment before walking from the room together. None of them said another word; they were all smiling too deeply to speak.

****

A gift of Bore Noble Horses was no small gift. The Noble Horses of Bore were direct descendants of the Great Centaurs. Although they had no ability to speak with their own masters, because of their direct bloodline to the Centaurs they could communicate among each other within groups. This allowed them to consult instantly and wholly as a collective, changing direction or deciding levels of speed at a moment’s notice. In battle, this would come as an obvious advantage.

The Centaurs of Bore did not concern themselves with horses not of noble bloodlines, but they certainly would have been consulted on the giving of this gift to the Fories. This was much like the Sovereign Trees of Forris, who did not concern themselves with the wood of other forests. Centaurs would have been very reluctant to allow a gift of so many Noble Horses, unless they felt a compelling need to do so. The thought of them seeing such a
great
need, made Zander a bit uneasy.

Now, as Zander and King Cergio rode through the gates of Obengaard and down the road away from the city, he realized that he was anxious to see them. It was almost a childish feeling, but Zander thought it had been perhaps centuries since the Bores had gifted Noble Horses to the Fories. And those had long since been bred away from any noble status or abilities.

Zander realized he must have been lightly dreaming when Cergio’s deep voice snapped him back to the present.

“Young Majesty, you look more troubled than I would expect from a man about to be married.”

Zander didn’t care for the reference of his age, but he suspected that a man of Cergio’s size had been self-taught long ago that he could speak of thing as he wished. And he
was
troubled; he hadn’t slept well for weeks. The impending war, coupled with the joy of his marriage to Bella, was making for a confusing range of emotions.

“I am as well as I believe I can be,” Zander said. And in a calculated move, he continued, “
Old
Majesty.”

Cergio smiled immediately and turned to find Zander smiling as well. Then they both burst into laughter, with Cergio forcing the words, “I asked for that, aye, so I did!”

It was precisely the reaction that Zander was hoping for and the entire reason for him wanting to take this ride to begin with. They might not agree on every aspect of their strategies moving forward, but they would at least respect each other personally.

With the tension now broken between them, King Cergio pressed Zander once more, “Tell true, Zander. You are troubled more for the thought of the Skites than you lead on.”

Since they’d just had a good laugh together, the atmosphere carried a feeling of comradery, and Zander was glad for it.

“King Cergio, the war to come is indeed weighing heavy on me. I look on my people and see them laughing—happy and content. They have no way of knowing that they live in a house of security that is made of glass—glass that is cracking at the foundation.”

“Aye, Zander, that is true—but it has
always
been a house of glass. The Centaurs themselves could strike me down at any time, aye, so they could. We cannot control our fate, but what’s to come has not yet been set. So do not act as though it has.”

Zander was stung by Cergio’s remark, but he knew there was truth in what he said. They could mold fate, shape it to their side. It had been done before, after all. And he had been acting as though doom had already arrived at the doorstep.

“What you say is true. I have been thinking the worst, and should put my mind to setting our destiny rather than dreading it,” Zander said.

“Aye, when Ekkill arrives we’ll get to the business of setting our course.”

The talk with Cergio had taken Zander into such self-reflection that he had nearly forgotten about the horses; had forgotten that he was even riding. But as they approached the top of the hill that stood between them and the Noble Horses, he snapped back to the present.

“They are fine horses, Majesty, aye, so they are. I think you will be pleased.”

When Zander rode over the curve of the ridge, what came into view was nothing short of spectacular. The horses were pitch-black with large silver markings scattered over their coats; almost of the same markings you might find on some cattle. The sight of the five thousand horses moving close together caused a rippling effect, like a wave of dark insects hovering above the landscape. Zander’s mouth held open, and even his own horse jumped back for a moment. Cergio caught the expression and smiled proudly.

“All my Fathers, I have never seen such a thing,” Zander finally said.

Cergio made no response, but instead began to ride down the hill toward the herd. Zander followed, and soon he could see that the silver markings were the same silver as that of King Cergio’s own horse; the only difference being that Cergio’s was of solid silver and had no black.

“Majesty, the silver-colored markings set on such a dark coat are nearly blinding,” Zander said.

But as he made the remark, he noticed that some of the horses that were standing off from the rest of the herd didn’t cause the same effect. It was only blinding because the horses were holding together, causing the illusion.

“Aye, the markings can do that, but they’re not
colored
silver—that
is
silver true as this is gold, I tell you,” Cergio said, tapping his glove to his chest plate.

Zander had heard of the silver in Noble Horses, but he hadn’t taken it literally. He was sure that no one had.

“Very impressive,” he replied.

They dismounted and Zander walked slowly up to the horse nearest him. The horse didn’t flinch in the slightest, and only turned toward him as if to make his acquaintance.

“They are tame?” Zander asked with a tone of surprise.

“Aye, of course they’re tame,” Cergio said in a way that made Zander realize that the question was clearly ridiculous.

When he took off his glove and laid his hand on the horse—first over the black hair and then over the silver markings, the hair felt as soft as a feather. He had expected it to be course, like the hair of his own horse. Instead, it was not only soft, but also longer in length than he had expected—it was at least two inches long, he estimated. There wasn’t so much as a breeze that day, so there was no chance for it to blow in full display, but he imagined it would be a sight.

“They are beautiful, Majesty. Thank you, truly, on behalf of all the people of Forris.”

When they rode back to the city, Cergio continued to talk of his great admiration for Zander’s father, and Zander knew that he still had a very large shadow to fill.

****

King Ekkill’s arrival at Obengaard was no minor event. There had been an abundance of Fories in attendance when King Cergio had arrived, but now thousands lined the streets and crowded into doorways and balconies to get a glimpse of the mysterious leader from the kingdom of sea and ice.

Bella and Lizabet took their same position on the balcony, as they had when Cergio arrived. This time, though, they were joined by Jonattan, Dorian, and Dorian’s parents. Bella was surprised that she did not find King Cergio in attendance and wondered if there was some odd protocol that was being followed.

As with the arrival of King Cergio, the Royal Guard lined the streets on both sides, and flowers had been strewn nearly everywhere. The only difference Bella noticed, were the flower petals that were being tossed from rooftops and balconies. Undoubtedly, some group of Fories had imagined it just after Cergio’s arrival, and had decided to improve on the spectacle this time around.

She gazed on the man who would be her husband in just three days’ time. He stood awaiting Ekkill’s arrival, and Bella couldn’t help daydreaming of her marriage to him. He had been more preoccupied with his duties recently, but as if to make up for the annoyance she thought that he had grown more handsome since they had first met. His dark hair had grown in waves just over his collar, and his blue eyes seemed even brighter. But she suspected that it was something else entirely. King Zander commanded every room, and those around him gave everything of themselves out of nothing more than respect. That was what had changed since their first meeting in Terra. It had been a celebration then. Now he was back to the business of being king and she found that very attractive. Watching him now only improved on that.

She was pulled from her thoughts when she noticed that one of the outer butlers had waved in their direction. She had gotten familiar with the Lopers by then and, as far as she knew, they never spoke or paid notice to
anyone
, so who could this Loper know that he would wave to? At that moment, she spied from the corner of her eye that Lizabet was returning the gesture.

“Lizabet, why would the outer butler wave to you in such a way?”

Lizabet had wanted to keep her friendship with Pike a secret from all but Dorian. It was one thing to omit the fact of Pike’s friendship, but it was an entirely different matter to speak falsely of it. She would not lie to her sister.

“Come here, if you should know,” she said lightly as she pulled Bella’s arm, leading her into the room and away from the listening ears on the balcony.

“What is it?” Bella said, sounding a bit annoyed.

“I have become friends with one of the outer butlers. His name is Pike, and he is kind, and he is gentle, and you had
better
not tell anyone.”

Bella’s face turned to surprise for a moment, until she realized,
Of course, she did, that’s exactly what would happen to Lizabet. No one has made friends with Lopers in probably a thousand years
—
and Lizabet does it in less than a month.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Bella said in a whisper. “But you must promise to tell me of him later.”

Lizabet smiled and said, “I will.”

As they started to walk back to the balcony, Bella leaned in and lovingly said, “I’m not at all surprised, you know.”

****

When King Ekkill arrived at the gate, Zander hadn’t been sure what to expect. When he rode up to him, followed by rows of men, Zander was taken aback by the number of guards who had ridden to Obengaard with the king. He had heard rumors that the king from the north could be overly cautious, and he thought that this was perhaps a reflection of that.

When Ekkill dismounted from his horse, Zander wasn’t sure what to make of the expression on the king’s face. It was a mixture of grumpiness and wisdom rolled into a half grin. He was a very large man, even more so than Cergio, but this man’s size was not measured in muscle, but simple bulk. He wore a round hat made of white fur that hung down over his ears.

Now that he was closer, Zander could see that the eyes of the king were of such dark blue that they nearly appeared black from any measurable distance. They were larger than the eyes of Fories, but not so large that they would seem noticeably out of place. A full beard of white covered his face and seamlessly ran together with his long white hair.

“Ho, King Zander!” Ekkill said, taking both hands and placing them on Zander’s shoulders.

Much like the two-handed shake of the Bore, this gesture translated to an abundance of respect. Zander smiled in return, and when Ekkill had taken his hands from his shoulders, he held out his own hand to shake Ekkill’s. These gestures of greeting would only be necessary during this initial encounter, but it was important to acknowledge the customs of all the kingdoms equally, at least this once.

“Welcome, King Ekkill, I hope your travels have been kind,” Zander said, nodding his head slightly. There was no bowing among kings.

“Yes, very good, thanks much,” Ekkill responded.

He then turned to the Tongar rider just behind him and began talking in such a thick accent that Zander could only recognize bits and pieces of what he was saying. He realized then that Ekkill was intentionally masking his accent for his benefit, and he certainly appreciated that. It would be difficult to negotiate a strategy to defend against the Skites if one of the principals in the matter could not be understood.