“Mostly,” the Rider said.
“Uh, here’s your sword.” Sir Karigan handed her what was left of the saber.
“Karigan G’ladheon, you broke my sword! Do you know what the quartermaster is going to say?”
Sir Karigan grimaced and said, “Actually, I have a pretty good idea. Sorry, but it couldn’t be helped.”
Anna knew that Daro’s accusation had been good-natured. Green Riders seemed to have a lot of camaraderie, much better than among the servants, where there was a lot of petty gossip and people divided into factions.
Sir Karigan gave Daro and the other Riders a quick rundown of what happened, then suddenly said, “This is Anna. She takes care of our hearths and stoves, and she helped keep the queen safe.”
“Hello, Anna,” the Riders said.
Anna could only stare wide-eyed, but the Riders did not seem to mind.
Sir Karigan briefly described the scene in the queen’s sitting room, then said, “And we should probably see what we can do to help, except you, Daro, and any others of you who’ve been injured.”
“But—” Daro began.
“To bed, Rider. You aren’t helping anyone if you fall over from blood loss.”
“You owe me a sword,” Daro said as she hopped away.
“Wish I had one of my own,” Sir Karigan muttered. The Riders dispersed, and she turned to Anna. “I’m sorry, I should have asked, but do you have anyone you need to see to?”
Anna shook her head. She had no family, and really wasn’t close to anyone in the servants quarters. She’d rather be with the Riders.
“You sure?” When Anna nodded, she continued, “Then I guess you should check the fires where you can, get the others you work with to do the same, and warm up this castle. The people who were frozen need it. And . . .” She looked past Anna into the distance, speaking as if to herself. “And fire was the best defense against those creatures. Should they come again . . .” She shook her head as if remembering herself. “No, they would not dare. Thank you for your help today. It is time I attended to my own duties.” She gave Anna a final smile and squeeze of her shoulder, and strode down the corridor.
Anna watched after her at a loss. What a day! She had been acknowledged by the king and queen, and had even helped Sir Karigan. No, they would not believe it down in the servants quarters. She basked in the fact that Sir Karigan had not introduced her as “the ash girl,” as most people called her, but knew her name and made her job sound important when it had always seemed just lowly drudge work. But today, it had actually helped, and even the king and queen said so.
She shook herself, remembering what Sir Karigan said about attending to duties, and it was time she emulated the Rider and returned to her own work.
AN ESCAPE
Ordinarily, prisoners were held in the block house, but with only a few cells, it was for temporary holding only, for minor infractions such as soldiers drunk on duty. More serious offenders were moved to the city jail, or even transferred to prisons in other provinces. The most serious crimes, of course, were punished with execution.
The old dungeons beneath the castle had been closed up for a century at least, until recent years when Second Empire came to the fore and the king needed to detain those who were captured. A portion of the dungeons had been cleaned up and repaired. They were currently occupied by only one man, and he had to admit that his accommodations were humane, with a clean bunk, fresh water, and decent food. No one beat him on a whim as he would have been in his home province. He was not chained to the wall and forced to sit in his own waste. He was brought reading materials, and the guards were more or less genial, telling him the news of the land and trading jests, even though he was a traitor.
Immerez, the one-handed, one-eyed former captain of the Mirwellian provincial militia, did not know why he still lived. Other traitors had been carted off to the gallows long ago. No one had questioned him since that Rider, the false Mirwellian, in Teligmar, except for the king when he first arrived. If his connection to Grandmother and Second Empire had not been enough to hang him, the part he had played in the coup attempt on King Zachary should have been. And yet, alive he remained. Was it possible the king had forgotten about him? If not, what were they waiting for?
A sudden shout from a guard down the passageway roused Immerez from his bunk. He crossed over to the cell door. The small barred window did not allow him to see much but the opposite wall. He heard footsteps running up stone stairs and more shouting. What in damnation had stirred up the guards?
He strained to listen for clues as to what was going on, but for a very long time he heard nothing. He crossed to the back of the cell where the grate opened at ground level to allow fresh air in, but there was nothing to see except a barrier of snow. He shrugged and sat once again on his bunk. There was no reason anyone would bother to inform him about what was happening, but next time a guard came by to check on him, he’d certainly inquire.
After a while, he began to wonder if a guard would come by. They checked on him at least once an hour, but it felt like much more than an hour had passed. A lot more. Had they finally decided his fate was to perish in his cell without food or water? Not likely. King Zachary was too fair a man to allow such suffering, a weakness to Immerez’s way of thinking. Of course, he’d been trained in the Mirwellian provincial militia, where there was no sense of fairness, and weakness was an invitation for abuse.
When he stood to stretch and pace again, he heard boots pounding down the passageway. Before he could peer out the window, there was the cling of a key ring and the turning of the lock. The door swung open. The guard, Rogan, bustled into the cell. Immerez fell back in surprise.
“Here, put these on.” Rogan threw a bundle of cloth at him and dropped a pair of boots at his feet. “Hurry!”
After a shocked moment, Immerez did not waste any time, and drew on a tunic of Sacoridian black and silver, and then a heavy winter cloak. The boots fit well.
“We’ve been waiting for the right opportunity to get you out,” Rogan said, “and it finally came.” He peered out the door and down the passageway, then beckoned Immerez to follow him.
“Who is ‘we’? What’s happening?” Immerez was not about to worry overmuch about the intentions of someone breaking him out of prison, but he was curious.
“Some sort of . . . I dunno,” Rogan said. “A magical attack or something. But now we can get you outta here. We have horses down in the city.”
Immerez followed his unexpected benefactor up the stairs and into the upper corridor.
“When we reach castle grounds, act just like a regular soldier, right? Everyone else is busy. They won’t even notice us.”
Immerez paused with Rogan at the end of the corridor at a heavy, ironbound door. “Yes, but who are you working with?”
Rogan grinned and pulled down his collar to reveal a tattoo of a dead tree just below his throat. Then he thrust the door open to the wintry world beyond. “Grandmother wants you back.”
Immerez followed Rogan out into the snow and left his prison behind forever.
AN UNDERSTANDING
As soon as Karigan stepped into her chamber, she was surrounded by her anxious aunts and had the breath squeezed out of her with their hugs. Their kisses were wet with tears. Her father, as always, stood aside awaiting his turn. When it came, he returned the bonewood staff to her.
“Didn’t need it,” he said. “What happened out there? Your Aunt Brini was half-hysterical and didn’t make any sense.”
Karigan described the magical attack and ice creatures. Meanwhile, her sharp-eyed aunts spied her bloody hand and set to tending it.
“Ow!” she cried as Aunt Stace pulled off the crusty handkerchief that had been Anna’s. She winced at the bite of cold water from her wash basin used to clean the wounds.
“Stop making faces, Kari girl,” Aunt Stace said. “It’s jus
t cuts and scratches.”
“But it stings.”
Aunt Stace clucked her tongue.
“The creatures,” her father persisted. “They attacked the king and queen?”
“They’re fine,” she replied. “They had good protection.”
“That is a relief. I do not like this resurgence of magic we’ve been experiencing over the past few years or so.” Karigan must have scowled, for he added, “I know what you are going to say.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, that not all magic is bad, that it depends on the intent of the user.”
Karigan smiled. That was exactly what she’d been about to tell him. And it would not have been the first time.
“Believe it or not,” he continued, “I have come to the conclusion that magic can be good if it is in you.”
His statement so surprised her she did not know what to say. This was a great concession from him, and so imbued with love. She reclaimed her re-bandaged hand from her aunts and flashed her father a smile. Then she took a second look at the bandage. It was high quality linen with fancy stitchwork. “Where did you get this?” she asked Aunt Stace.
“It’s your father’s fine neckerchief.”
“Stace!” he sputtered.
“You wouldn’t begrudge your daughter a bit of cloth to staunch her wounds? You can afford to buy a new one.”
Deciding she’d better intervene, Karigan told her aunts, “I bet there are injured people who could use some help out there.” She waved her arm to indicate the greater castle. “I am sure the menders would appreciate your assistance.” She hoped Ben wouldn’t kill her.
“Yes, that’s a sound idea,” Aunt Stace said.
Karigan held her hand up to forestall them. “There are remains out there,” Karigan warned. “It’s—it’s grisly.”
“Back on Black Island,” Aunt Stace said, “we tended many a wounded fisherman. You would not believe the accidents they got themselves into. We will help as we can. Come, sisters.”
“Gods,” her father said after they had left. “Between you and my sisters, it’s a wonder I haven’t gone all gray.”
“You are very lucky,” Karigan replied, “just to have hair at your age.”
He gazed at the ceiling as though to the heavens. “The gods preserve me.”
Karigan, feeling tired once again now that the excitement of the battle with the ice creatures had worn off, dropped onto her bed. With her aunts gone, Ghost Kitty came out of hiding and leaped up beside her. He rubbed against her arm until she scratched him behind his ear.
“I am sorry I yelled at you this morning,” she told her father. “I wasn’t myself.”
He leaned against her desk. “We know you have had a lot to contend with. And I assume we don’t know even the half of it. We should have waited, given you time, but when we heard you were alive, we had to see you. And, you know your aunts, they are . . . unrestrained.”
Karigan laughed, remembering her conversation with the king and queen earlier. “Overwhelming,” she said.
“Yes, overwhelming. The thing is, you are right. We weren’t really showing you respect, despite all you’ve done and been through, despite the obvious regard the king holds for you. We remember you as our little girl, and keep making the mistake that you are still she.”
“I know.”
“Do you? I doubt you will know till you have children of your own.” He smiled to take the sting out of his words.
Children? He hadn’t even managed to marry her off yet, despite his best efforts.
“I would like grandchildren one day,” he said as if he knew her thoughts.
“I think I am busy enough without—” and she gestured curtly “—children.”
“You see? Here I am, interfering again.” He crossed over to the bed and sat beside her. Annoyed by his intrusion, Ghost Kitty whacked the mattress with his tail. “I will keep seeing you as my child, no matter your age or accomplishments. I will never stop worrying and making wishes for the future. I never imagined my daughter becoming a Green Rider. It is not a path I would have chosen for you, but the point is that it is not my place to choose, is it? I just want you to be happy on the path you’ve chosen, though I’ll always wish you were doing something safer and giving me grandchildren.”
Karigan ran her hand over Ghost Kitty’s soft fur. He purred loudly. “Thank you,” she said.
“I only fear,” her father said, “that I don’t know you very well, the grown you, the woman you’ve become.”
It was, Karigan knew, her own fault, her reluctance to share everything about her life as a Green Rider with him. Doing so, she believed, would only cause him to fear for her all the more, but maybe he would have come to the conclusion about her adulthood much sooner, had she been more forthcoming. She still could not, she decided, bring herself to tell him much of her trials, but perhaps she could tell him enough to satisfy his curiosity.
She told him about her journey into Blackveil, focusing on the details of the forest environment, the members of the company that went in with her, but she left out certain details of the dangers she faced. She touched lightly on the horror of companions who had been lost. She did not speak of the Coutre forester who’d attempted to murder her and why. She did explain how she helped the Sleepers of Argenthyne cross into Eletia through a piece of time, but she skipped over how she had barely escaped an attack by tainted Sleepers and how she was tested by the mirror man.
Then there was the complicated tale of her crossing into the future. She glanced at her father. He looked like he was having a hard time digesting it all, and despite her circumspect telling, he looked a little pale.
“I think,” she said, “I’m too tired to tell the whole thing right now.” And she was. Very. “Also, I should check in with Captain Mapstone.”
“No need,” the captain said from the doorway.
“Captain!” Karigan stood, and Ghost Kitty rolled away with an irritated meow. How long had the captain been standing there?
“I have been checking on everyone myself and taking stock,” the captain said. “We fared surprisingly well, considering. Your aunts have been making themselves useful.”
“Good. I mean, that is good, isn’t it?”
The captain smiled. “Yes, good. They are helping a great deal.”
That was a relief. “You are . . . well?”
“Castle grounds were hit lightly. The attack was concentrated in the castle. Nothing, from what I’ve heard, down in the city.”
Karigan’s father stood beside her. “Then all is well? It’s all over?”
“I would not say all is well,” the captain replied. “There were casualties, and your daughter tried to burn down the castle.”
“Um—” Karigan began. Her father glanced sharply at her.
“Little harm done,” the captain said, “and done for a good cause. Your daughter probably did not tell you that she prevented the queen from being taken from us by an elemental spirit.”
“No, she did not.” He gave Karigan a reproachful look.
Karigan smiled faintly and shrugged.
“Yes,” Captain Mapstone said, “the king told me about it himself.” She went on to describe the scene with great flourishes.
Karigan tried to prepare herself for her father’s response, but he did not overreact. He did not demand or plead with her to leave the messenger service, which he might have done at some earlier time. No, he tilted his chin up and said, “You are fortunate to have a G’ladheon on the job.”
A pleased smile crossed the captain’s face, and Karigan, both astonished and delighted, laughed.
“Is our queen in any further danger?” he asked. “I met her some time ago, before she was betrothed to the king. It was that night when Prince Amilton tried to take the throne. She stood strongly against him, and it pains me to thin
k of her suffering.”
“We do not know, of course,” the captain replied, “but one of our Riders, Merla, had an awakening of her special ability during the attack. It seems she can create protective wards, and the Eletians are guiding her on how to set them around the royal apartments.”
That was good news, Karigan thought. Her father had stiffened beside her when the captain mentioned Merla’s special ability, but he surprised her again when he said, “I am pleased that the queen may be protected by those with such abilities against enemies who would cause her harm. It has taken me a while to learn the concept of magic being used for good, but now I understand.”
“Glad to hear it,” the captain said, “as the special abilities of my Riders may make the difference in any conflict to come.”
Her words hung heavy in the silence, though Karigan swore she could hear whispers in the depths of the dark corridor beyond her chamber.
“Why does your Rider not use her ability to . . . ward the whole castle?”
“In time,” the captain replied, “she may, but the use of any ability has its cost, and just warding the queen’s sitting room gave Merla a case of the hives.”
Karigan’s father glanced at her, and she could see him wondering about her ability and what it cost her, but to his credit, he did not ask.
“If you like, merchant,” the captain said, “I’d be happy to answer your questions about Rider abilities. They are not usually discussed outside our ranks, but as you already know as much as you do, and since we have benefitted so much from your generosity over the years, you are our trusted ally, and it seems acceptable to discuss it with you.”
He nodded. “Yes, that would be interesting.”
“I do not make the offer without motive,” the captain said, a crafty gleam in her eye.
“I do not suppose you do.”
Karigan glanced from one to the other, not sure what to make of the two of them, and quite certain she didn’t want to think too deeply about it.