Blackveil (27 page)

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Authors: Kristen Britain

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

BOOK: Blackveil
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“She’s a bit of a priss,” Elgin said.
Karigan raised an eyebrow at his bluntness.
“Aristocratic family, I hear, and her parents none too happy she’s been called. She’s riding old Graft like a stick of firewood. Thinks she’s too good for us and our old cav horses. No doubt her poppy provided her with all sorts of hotbloods to ride around on at home.”
Karigan gave him a sidelong look. She’d had access to numerous fine horses in her father’s stables herself as she grew up, and so she thought his opinion of Sophina unfair. However, she refrained from mentioning this fact to Elgin or reminding him of her own father’s wealth.
“Does Graft look happy to you with Sophina riding him?” he asked.
Karigan had to admit he did not. His was a plodding sort of canter, and he chomped on his bit in discontent; it was true Sophina looked like she would be much happier in a sidesaddle on some fine hunter riding with others of her own class.
“Wait till Riggs puts them in mounted combat training,” Elgin said with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Then Sophina will learn something, and I hope she does. I hope they all do because it’ll mean their survival.”
He was right, Karigan reflected. Riders rode in all conditions and under many circumstances. Fighting from horseback would be a whole new discipline for the young Riders to learn as it had been for her. All of her training with Arms Master Drent was fine and good. Dismounted. Wielding a sword from atop a horse required an entirely different set of skills.
“We want them to come back,” Elgin murmured. “We always want that.”
Elgin suddenly seemed to no longer see the Riders in front of him. Karigan thought he must be thinking of those in the past. She knew little of his history, but wondered what Riders
he
had lost. She observed him closely, saw a muscle jump in his cheek and the subtle tightening of his weathered features.
“Command is never easy.” His voice was so soft Karigan thought he spoke more to himself. “Give an order, never know if they’ll make it back.”
Karigan thought to ask questions, to gently delve into his past, but a Green Foot runner approached at that moment with a summons from Captain Mapstone. She bade Elgin good-bye, and minutes later when she reached officers quarters, the captain opened the door and ushered her in.
The captain’s chamber served both as both her living quarters and her office and was on the whole spare of personal adornment. However, books, ledgers, and other records crammed shelves, and a barrel full of maps was tucked into a corner. Her worktable was strewn with papers and a few mugs filled with the dregs of old tea. The light was dim, for like the castle itself, officers quarters were built of stone with only arrow slits allowing outside light in. The captain, Karigan knew, did not spend a great deal of time here, for she was often in the castle attending the king and sitting in on meetings.
“Have a seat, Karigan,” the captain said, then proceeded to scratch away on a paper with her pen, seemingly oblivious to her Rider’s presence.
Karigan sat in a chair before the worktable, awaiting her captain’s pleasure and wondering why she’d been summoned. Perhaps she’d be sent on an errand after all, though it was usually Mara who passed on those orders. Maybe the captain wanted to discuss her progress on the ledgers and payroll. Whatever it was, she did not mind the diversion.
The captain scribbled on for some moments, her expression intense. In the dim light, it appeared to Karigan that there was a little more white mixed in the captain’s red hair than she remembered, a few more careworn lines along her eyes. However, when finally the captain set her pen aside and looked up at Karigan, her hazel eyes were as lively as ever.
“Deadlines,” the captain said, by way of explanation, and she sprinkled sand on wet ink. She folded her hands together atop the worktable and gazed steadily at Karigan for some moments. “How goes your work with the accounts?”
Karigan described her struggles, but she wasn’t sure the captain was hearing everything she said, though she made affirmative noises at the appropriate moments.
When she finished, the captain said, “We need to find someone else who can assist with accounts, and take over when you are on an errand. Mara is an excellent Chief Rider, but dealing with accounts is not one of her strengths. I’ll have Elgin keep an eye out for someone who might do, and then you can train him or her up to your standards.”
“That would be helpful, I guess,” Karigan said. As much as she disliked taking care of Rider accounts, she feared that adding another person into the process would only muddle things up all the more.
When she noticed the captain still gazing at her with an intense look on her face, Karigan surmised the summons was not actually about Rider accounts at all.
The captain abruptly stood, rounded the table, and leaned against its edge with arms folded. Again there was the scrutiny, as if she were trying to see into Karigan’s soul and make up her mind about something. Karigan shifted in her chair. She hadn’t been concerned by Captain Mapstone’s summons when she came to officers quarters, but now she was beginning to worry.
“I wish to discuss an errand with you,” the captain said. “One that will be, for the moment, between you and me. I request that you do not speak of it to anyone else.”
“Of course,” Karigan said.
The captain nodded, then said, “There is no easy way to broach this other than to just say it. Karigan, I need to send you into Blackveil.”
It was as though a crater opened beneath Karigan and she fell, the world rushing past her, the weight of dread speeding her on.
ON THE ROOF
K
arigan blanched, but she said nothing, issued no protest, did not request Laren to reconsider. Laren did not know how anyone was supposed to react to the news that they were being sent into Blackveil Forest, but she certainly did not expect Karigan’s stillness.
Laren had deemed it necessary to speak to Karigan of this now. The king’s other advisors were pressuring her to officially name the Riders she’d be sending into Blackveil, and she thought if she put the mission before Karigan privately, and persuaded her that she was the best Rider for the job, Karigan might champion her inclusion herself, perhaps making Zachary less likely to object. But then, love was unpredictable and powerful and he still might overrule everyone and forbid Karigan’s participation.
In the face of her Rider’s quiescence, Laren could only keep talking. “As you’ve likely heard, the Eletians desire to cross over into Blackveil Forest.”
Karigan nodded.
“The king is determined that they not go without being accompanied by Sacoridians. We do not fully trust them, and we have as much interest in seeing what is on the other side of the wall as the Eletians. The king wishes Riders to be among those who go with them. You are one of my most experienced Riders, and you have already been in Blackveil and
survived.

“I was not myself then ...” Karigan passed her hand over her eyes.
It was an understatement, Laren knew. Karigan had been possessed in turn by Mornhavon the Black and the spirit of the First Rider.
Karigan shuddered. “He was ... he knew everything about me.”
Mornhavon,
she meant. Laren could not guess what it was like to have someone control your actions while you were a spectator in your own body. How much of Karigan’s mind had he had access to? What an incredible violation it must have been, and it was only then Laren realized what she was asking of Karigan. Yes, Mornhavon might be gone from Blackveil for now, thanks to Karigan’s own intervention, but what if he reappeared while the company of Eletians and Sacoridians were still there?
It did not matter. Karigan was still the best choice, and Laren was her commander. She could not afford to change her mind based on personal considerations. Karigan would go as ordered. It was her duty.
In case there was some hesitation on Karigan’s part, she said, “I know we have asked much of you in the past and you have endured more than any Rider I can think of. If you tell me now not to send you, I will pick someone else. But frankly, I can think of no other Rider who has a better chance of returning alive from Blackveil.” The implication being that any other Rider going in her place would not return, and the onus would be on Karigan.
Karigan looked down at her knees as that implication sank in. “I will go, of course.”
Laren nodded. She found the manipulation distasteful, but she had only spoken the truth. “There may be answers to be found that will help us deal with Blackveil, with Mornhavon. And of course, we need to know why the Eletians are so bent on exploring Blackveil. We think they are drawn more by the desire to see what has become of Argenthyne.”
Karigan continued to remain still, but upon mentioning the ancient, lost land of the Eletians, Laren saw something flicker in her eyes, that fathomless quality she’d seen before. Mysteries, a timelessness. There was a distance to her as though she already walked in that dark country. And then just as quickly it faded.
“Who else?” Karigan asked.
“What?”
“You said Riders, not Rider. Who else are you sending?”
“I’ve not made any final decisions as of yet.” And she hadn’t. It was not easy deciding which of her Riders to commit to such a dangerous mission. “Have you any suggestions?”
Karigan shook her head. “When?”
“You are to be at the wall by the equinox. The Eletians were very clear they wanted the days to be turning longer than the nights when they entered the forest.”
Karigan gazed out the arrow slit. Pale light fell across her face and glinted off her hair. Her silence unsettled Laren. It would be easier if Karigan had argued, shouted, thrown her chair across the room ... anything.
“Do you have any more questions for me?” Laren asked.
Karigan shook her head and the light shimmered down her hair.
Laren’s heart sank at what she believed was resignation on Karigan’s part. “If you think of any questions or you just want to talk about this, do come see me.”
When her ploy to elicit some response from Karigan failed, Laren excused her. After the door closed behind Karigan, Laren stood still for some moments feeling regret. She knew she would feel even more regret when she finally decided which other Riders would accompany Karigan into the forest. She must consider the experience and magical ability of each Rider and decide who would be most useful on the expedition, as well as who would be most likely to survive. She sighed, and rounded her desk to resume work, but found she could not concentrate.
Instead, she decided to seek out Zachary. They needed to talk about Karigan some more now that she had expressed acceptance of the mission. Laren set off from her quarters, thinking she would check with Cummings, Zachary’s secretary, to find out his availability. She was certain this would be another difficult confrontation. Zachary had cooled toward her after their last conversation about Karigan, and she could only guess this would not improve their rapport.
According to Cummings, Zachary’s schedule was clear for the afternoon. That meant he could be almost anywhere doing almost anything. It took Laren a long while to track him down, and when she did find him, it was in a place she hadn’t been since summer. When she passed through the heavy door and stepped out onto the castle rooftop, she squinted in the glare of the sun and shivered. During the summer the roof was pleasant. Now? She did not envy the soldiers who stood watch up here every day throughout the winter. Of course, they were dressed for it and she had only her shortcoat for warmth.

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