Rise of the Valiant (4 page)

“I can use a
traveling companion,” Kyra said, an idea forming as she uttered the words.

Dierdre looked
at her, eyes widening with surprise, and broke into a wide smile, her heavy
aura lifting.

“I was hoping
you would ask,” she replied.

Anvin,
overhearing, frowned.

“I don’t know if
your father would approve,” he interjected. “You have serious business ahead of
you.”

“I won’t
interfere,” Dierdre said. “I must cross Escalon anyway. I am returning to my
father. I’d rather not cross it alone.”

Anvin rubbed his
beard.

“Your father
would not like it,” he said to Kyra. “She may be a liability.”

Kyra laid a
reassuring hand on Anvin’s wrist, resolved.

“Dierdre is my
friend,” she said, settling the matter. “I would not abandon her, just as you
would not abandon one of your men. What is it you have always told me?
No
man left behind
.”

Kyra sighed.

“I may have
helped save Dierdre from that cell,” Kyra added, “but she also helped save me.
I owe her a debt. I am sorry, but what my father thinks matters little. It is
I
crossing Escalon alone, not he. She is coming with me.”

Dierdre smiled.
She stepped up beside Kyra and linked arms with hers, a new pride in her step.
Kyra felt good at the idea of having her on the journey, and she knew she’d
made the right decision, whatever should happen.

Kyra noticed her
brothers walking nearby and she could not help but feel a sense of
disappointment that they were not more protective of her, that they would not
think to offer to join her, too; they were too competitive with her. It
saddened her that that was the nature of their relationship, yet she could not
change other people. She was better off anyway, she realized. They were filled
with bravado, and would only do something reckless to get her in trouble.

“I would like to
accompany you, too,” Anvin said, his voice heavy with guilt. “The idea of your
crossing Escalon does not sit well with me.” He sighed. “But your father needs
me now more than ever. He’s asked me to join him in the south.”

“And I,” Arthfael
added. “I would like to join you, too—but I have been assigned to join the men
south.”

“And I to remain
behind and guard Volis in his absence,” Vidar added.

Kyra was touched
by their support.

“Do not worry,”
she replied. “I have but a three-day ride before me. I shall be fine.”

“You shall,”
Baylor chimed in, stepping closer. “And your new horse shall make sure of it.”

With that,
Baylor pushed open wide the door to the stables, and they all followed him into
the low stone building, the smell of horses heavy in the air.

Kyra’s eyes
slowly adjusted to the dim light as she followed him in, the stables damp and
cool, filled with the sound of excited horses. She looked up and down the
stalls and saw before her rows of the most beautiful horses she’d ever
seen—big, strong, beautiful horses, black and brown, each one a champion. It
was a treasure chest.

“The Lord’s Men
reserved the best for themselves,” Baylor explained as they walked, heading
down the rows with a swagger, in his element. He touched one horse here and
patted another and the animals seemed to come alive in his presence.

Kyra walked
slowly, taking it all in. Each horse was like a work of art, larger than most
horses she’d seen, filled with beauty and power.

“Thanks to you
and your dragon, these horses are ours now,” Baylor said. “It is only fitting
that you take your pick. Your father has instructed me to give you first
choice, even over his.”

Kyra was
overwhelmed. As she studied the stable, she felt a great burden of
responsibility, knowing this was a once in a lifetime choice.

She walked
slowly, running her hand along their manes, feeling how soft and smooth they
were, how powerful, and was at a loss for which to choose.

“How do I pick?”
she asked Baylor.

He smiled and
shook his head.

“I’ve trained
horses my entire life,” he replied, “I’ve raised them, too. And if there is one
thing I know, it is no two horses are the same. Some are bred for speed, others
for stamina; some are built for strength, while others are made to carry a
load. Some are too proud to carry a thing. And others, well, others are built
for battle. Some thrive in solo jousts, others just want to fight, and others
still are created for the marathon of war. Some will be your best friend,
others will turn on you. Your relationship to a horse is a magical thing. They
must call to you, and you to them. Choose well, and your horse shall be forever
beside you, in times of battle and times of war. No good warrior is complete
without one.”

Kyra walked
slowly, heart thumping with excitement, passing horse after horse, some looking
at her, some looking away, some neighing and stamping impatiently, others
standing still. She was waiting for a connection, and yet she felt none. She
was frustrated.

Then, suddenly,
Kyra felt a chill up her spine, like a lightning bolt shooting through her. It
came as a sharp sound echoed through the stables, a sound that told her that
that
was her horse. It did not sound like a typical horse—but emitted a much darker
sound, more powerful. It cut through the noise and rose above the sounds of all
the others, like a wild lion trying to break free of its cage. It both
terrified her—and drew her in.

Kyra turned
toward its source, at the end of the stable, and as she did there came a sudden
crashing of wood. She saw the stalls shatter, wood flying everywhere, and there
ensued a commotion as several men hurried over, trying to close the broken
wooded gate. A horse kept smashing it with its hooves.

Kyra hurried
toward the commotion.

“Where are you
going?” Baylor asked. “The fine horses are here.”

But Kyra ignored
him, gaining speed, her heart beating faster as she went. She knew it was
calling her.

Baylor and the
others hurried to catch up with her as she neared the end, and as she did, she
turned and gasped at the sight before her. There stood what appeared to be a
horse, yet twice the size of the others, legs as thick as tree trunks. It had
two small, razor-sharp horns, barely visible behind its ears. Its hide was not
brown or black like the others, but a deep scarlet—and its eyes, unlike the
others, glowed green. They looked right at her, and the intensity struck her in
the chest, taking her breath away. She could not move.

The creature,
towering over her, made a noise like a snarl, and revealed fangs.

“What horse is
this?” she asked Baylor, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his
head disapprovingly.

“That is no
horse,” he frowned, “but a savage beast. A freak. Very rare. It is a Solzor.
Imported from the far corners of Pandesia. The Lord Governor must have kept it
as a trophy to keep on display. He could not ride the creature—no one could. Solzors
are savage creatures, not to be tamed. Come—you waste precious time. Back to
the horses.”

But Kyra stood
there, rooted in place, unable to look away. Her heart pounded as she knew this
was meant for her.

“I choose this
one,” she said to Baylor.

Baylor and the
others gasped, all staring at her as if she were mad. A stunned silence ensued.

“Kyra,” Anvin
began, “your father would never allow you—”

“It is my
choice, is it not?” she replied.

He frowned and
raised his hands to his hips.

“That is no
horse!” he insisted. “It is a wild creature.”

“It would as
soon kill you,” Baylor added.

Kyra turned to
him.

“Was it not you
who told me to trust my instincts?” she asked. “Well, this is where they have
led me. This animal and I belong together.”

The Solzor
suddenly reared its huge legs, smashed another wooden gate, and sent splinters
everywhere and men cowering. Kyra was in awe. It was wild and untamed and
magnificent, an animal too big for this place, too big for captivity, and far
superior to the others.

“Why should she
get to have it?” Brandon asked, stepping forward and shoving others out of his
way. “I am older, after all.
I
want it.”

Before she could
reply, Brandon rushed forward as if to claim it. He went to jump on its back
and as he did, the Solzor bucked wildly and threw him off. He went flying
across the stables, and smashing into the wall.

Braxton then
rushed forward, as if to claim it, too, and as he did it swung its head and
sliced Brandon’s arm with his fangs.

Bleeding,
Brandon shrieked and ran from the stables, clutching his arm. Braxton scrambled
to his feet and followed on his heels, the Solzor just missing him as it tried
to bite him.

Kyra stood,
transfixed, yet somehow unafraid. She knew that for her, it would be different.
She felt a connection to this beast, the same way she had to Theos.

Kyra suddenly
stepped forward, boldly, standing right in front of it, in range of its deadly
fangs. She wanted to show the Solzor that she trusted it.

“Kyra!” Anvin
shouted, concern in his voice. “Get back!”

But Kyra ignored
him. She stood there, staring the beast in the eye

The beast stared
back, a low snarl emanating from its throat, as if debating what to do. Kyra
trembled from fear, but she would not let the others see it.

She forced
herself to show her courage. She raised a hand slowly, stepped forward, and
touched its scarlet hide. It snarled more loudly, showing its fangs, and she
could feel its anger and frustration.

“Unlock its
chains,” she commanded the others.

“What!?” one of
them called out.

“That is not
wise,” Baylor called, fear in his voice.

“Do as I say!”
she insisted, feeling a strength rise up within her, as if the will of this
beast were pouring through her.

Behind her,
soldiers rushed forward with keys, unlocking its chains. All the while the beast
never took his angry eyes off her, snarling, as if summing her up, as if daring
her.

As soon as it
was unchained, the beast stomped his legs, as if threatening to attack.

But, strangely,
it did not. Instead, it stared at Kyra, fixing its eyes on her, and slowly its
look of anger seemed to morph to one of tolerance. Perhaps even gratitude.

Ever so
slightly, it seemed to lower its head; it was a subtle gesture, almost unnoticeable,
yet one she could decipher.

Kyra stepped
forward, held its mane, and in one quick motion mounted it.

A gasp filled
the room.

At first the beast
shivered and began to buck. But Kyra sensed it was for show. It didn’t really
want to throw her off—it just wanted to make a point of defiance, of who was in
control, to keep her on edge. It wanted to let her know it was a creature of
the wild, a creature to be tamed by no one.

I do not wish to
tame you,
she said to it in her mind’s eye.
I wish only to be your partner in battle.

The Solzor calmed,
still prancing, but not as wildly, as if hearing her. Soon, it stopped moving,
perfectly still beneath her, snarling out at the others, as if to protect her.

Kyra, sitting
atop the Solzor, now calm, looked down at the others. A sea of shocked faces
stared back, mouths agape.

Kyra slowly
smiled wide, feeling a great sense of triumph.

“This,” she
said, “is my choice. And his name is Andor.”

*

Kyra rode Andor
at a walk down the center of the courtyard of Argos, and all her father’s men,
hardened soldiers, stopped and watched in awe as she went. Clearly, they had
never seen anything like it.

Kyra held his
mane gently, trying to pacify him as he snarled softly at all the men, glaring
them down, as if he held a vendetta for being caged. Kyra adjusted her balance,
Baylor having put a fresh leather saddle on him, and tried to get used to
riding up so high. She felt more powerful with this beast beneath her than
she’d ever had.

Beside her,
Dierdre rode a beautiful mare, one Baylor had chosen for her, and the two of
them continued through the snow until Kyra spotted her father in the distance,
standing there by the gate, awaiting her. He stood with his men, all of them
waiting to see her off, and they, too, looked up at her in fear and awe,
stunned that she could ride this animal. She saw the admiration in their eyes,
and it emboldened her for the journey ahead. If Theos would not return to her,
at least she had this magnificent creature beneath her.

Kyra dismounted
as she reached her father, guiding Andor by his mane and seeing the concern
flicker in her father’s eyes. She did not know if it was because of this beast
or for the journey ahead. His look of concern reassured her, made her realize
she was not the only one who feared what lay ahead, and that he cared for her
after all. For the briefest moment he let his guard down and shot her a look
that only she could recognize: the love of a father. She could tell that he
struggled in sending her on this quest.