MISFORTUNES ALONG THE ROAD
Stevic G’ladheon leaned down from his horse to show the guardsman at the castle gate his clan ring as proof of his identity. He’d been challenged by sentries even well outside the city, then at each city gate as he ascended the Winding Way.
“I am here to see Colonel Mapstone of the Green Riders,” he said, his voice rough from illness.
The captain of the guard sauntered over. “I recognize him, Snylar. His girl’s a Rider. Let him through.”
With a nod of thanks, Stevic clucked his horse through the gate and onto castle grounds. The gelding was a sad replacement for the fine stallion he’d started with in Selium, a favorite from his own stables, but even the best of steeds did not seem to have the remarkable endurance of messenger horses and so he’d had to sell him and others in order to acquire fresh remounts for his journey. He’d made good progress until other misfortunes along the road—a thrown shoe, being robbed, and getting sick—had delayed his arrival to the city.
He rode the horse at a walk, an amble, really, with a sense of dread now that he was here. He feared Laren would blame him for Melry’s abduction because he’d been the one with her at the time, supposedly looking out for her. He had included that detail in the letter he’d sent with Selium’s messenger, who must have reached Sacor City well ahead of him. Apparently in the depths of a fever he had picked up along the way, he had raved about the situation to the kind wife of an innkeeper who had nursed him. He’d been unable to leave bed for a week, then was barely able to walk down the hall the next. He had rewarded the innkeeper’s wife well for her care, but had not heeded her advice to stay longer. He thought that perhaps, as his body shook with another of the ravaging coughs, he should have listened. He wasn’t sure the fever was quite gone.
But he was here now, on castle grounds. The eerie quiet of the place only fed his trepidation. He’d heard rumors on his journey that the king had taken his army east, and the absence of soldiers on castle grounds seemed to bear them out. Along the road, he’d also encountered provincial militia troops answering the muster of their lord-governors. The realm was in a state he had not seen since the last war with the Under Kingdoms.
He bent over the saddle with another bout of coughing, then urged the gelding ahead. He supposed sleeping on the ground had not helped his recovery.
When he reached officers’ quarters, he dismounted and stood before Laren’s door. As much as he was anxious about facing her, he was looking forward to seeing her. Had Melry been recovered? If not, perhaps he could provide comfort. He raised his hand to knock on the door when someone called out to him.
“Chief G’ladheon?”
He turned to find Mara Brennyn passing by. “Lieutenant!”
The Rider walked up to him. “You will not find the colonel at home, I’m afraid.”
“When will she be back?”
The lieutenant looked downcast. “We don’t know when, or if, she’ll be back.”
“What do you mean? Where is she?”
“It’s a bit of a long story, and you look like you could use a cup of tea, if I say so myself.”
“Please just tell me.”
She licked her lips. “All right,” she said softly. “She was captured by the Darrow Raiders and sold to Varosians to serve as the personal slave to the king there.”
“What?” he roared. A coughing fit took him then, dropped him to his knees, and left him hacking up sputum and blood.
When he was cognizant of his surroundings again, he found himself abed in the mending wing of the castle. Mara sat in a chair nearby staring at a pile of papers on her lap, a frown of concentration etching her features.
He took a deep breath and, much to his surprise, found it came easily, not even a tickle to set him off on another infernal coughing fit. He took another, the ease of it blissful. Then he remembered what he’d been told about Laren. She’d been sold to Varosians.
No, he thought, it must not stand. He would not allow her to suffer in the hands of the Varosians. He would not lose her. He could not imagine the future without her, she with her red hair and sharp wit. She filled a place in his heart that had been forlorn for far too long. He would find a way to get her back.
“Lieutenant . . . Mara.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice. “Chief? How are you? Can I get you something to drink?”
He asked for water, and she poured him a cup from a pitcher. “How is it my cough is cured?” he asked.
She smiled. “You know Rider Simeon? Ben?”
He nodded. “He is also a mender, as I recall.”
“Well, he’s very good at what he does. You may even find your lungs are almost like new.”
Magic, he thought. Ben had used healing magic on him. He tested his breathing again, in and out, in and out. He still felt exhausted, but no longer feverish. It was miraculous, really, and if magic could do that, then maybe it wasn’t the evil he had once supposed.
“I must thank him when I have a chance,” he said.
“He is sleeping it off at the moment, in the next room, actually. His ability does that to him, and you may find yourself tired from the healing process for a while, as well.”
“Is Karigan here?” he asked.
Mara looked down at her papers, hesitated. “No, we’re not actually sure where she is at the moment.”
“Perhaps,” he said, “you would tell me everything about the colonel and Karigan while I rest. I have been on the road a very long time, got robbed, got sick . . . It was not a good journey.”
“Oh, dear,” she said. “We only got an update on everything a couple weeks ago, which means our information is somewhat out of date already, but here is what we know.” She gave him a rundown of events that included the Raiders, a mage, gray eagles, and wraith creatures. She gave more details, as many as she possessed, regarding Laren’s capture.
He sagged in his pillows, relieved to hear that Melry had been rescued and was even now on castle grounds, but the Raiders had used her as bait to draw out Laren. The leader, Torq, had been seeking vengeance for actions that had taken place years ago. That vengeance included selling her to the king whose realm was backward, where women were not even considered people. It would be hell for a person like Laren who had lived her whole life in the comparatively enlightened society of Sacoridia with the favor of its king, and in a position of authority.
“The king ordered diplomatic envoys to proceed to Varos to insist on the colonel’s return. They are on their way.”
“To insist on her return?” Stevic scoffed. “I know the Varosians. They will not be impressed. Does Zachary intend to follow up with force?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Mara said carefully, “but I believe his general feeling is that he doesn’t wish to escalate the situation. He does not need hostilities with Varos while he is fighting Second Empire.”
“Then he won’t get her back.” Anger roiled up inside him, anger that there was seemingly nothing the king could or would do to get her back.
“I believe,” Mara said, again very carefully, “he has another plan. The queen was hoping you would return to the city and, now that you have, is requesting your presence.”
“Me?”
She nodded. “In fact we sent messengers to Corsa in an attempt to track you down.”
When he started to throw his blankets aside so he could get up, she hastily added, “You can’t see her right this moment. Master Vanlynn has ordered you abed and we will see how you are doing tomorrow morning. As I mentioned, the effects of a deep healing like Ben did on you can leave a patient exhausted. You will probably be wanting a good sound sleep shortly.”
Nonsense, he thought. He was tired, but not immobilized. “Now, about Karigan,” he said.
“She was with the king in the encampment when they were assailed by a group of Raiders, and swordsmen that called themselves Lions.”
According to Mara, Karigan had simply vanished during the melee with the help of a “travel device.” He was disquieted to learn she’d taken the Raider leader, Torq, and one of the swordsmen, with her. There was no sign of her after the enemy was dispatched, and the wraiths had come. That had been weeks ago, and there was no news about Karigan since.
Everything about Karigan’s life as a Green Rider worried Stevic, the magic, the type of work, and her propensity for finding trouble. He tried to hide his worry from her, as it would only distract her from her job when she needed to focus on getting it done and keeping herself safe. However, she had so many close calls, and now this latest disappearance? That she had vanished with the leader of the Darrow Raiders did not bode well. Not at all. He shuddered and closed his eyes. Laren’s abduction was difficult enough to bear, and now Karigan had disappeared, too.
“I know you are worried,” Mara said. “Karigan is your daughter, and I am aware you have some affection for the colonel, but you should know they are two of the most resourceful and resilient people I’ve ever known. They’ll come out of this all right, you’ll see.”
“I am grateful for your words and agree with your assessment.” Then he paused. “You know about the colonel and me?”
Mara smiled. “We work closely together. It was hard to miss her improved moods when you were around. I came to realize all those meetings the two of you were having weren’t exactly meetings.”
“Well.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say to that.
“I had better leave you to rest,” Mara said.
“I’d like to see the queen now.”
“Tomorrow,” Mara reminded him. “She has orders to rest, too.”
And now Stevic heard the news about the twins, Prince Zachary Davriel the Second and Princess Esmere. It was tremendous news for the realm that they had arrived safely. The queen was well, but out of an excess of caution, the master mender was limiting her activity until she regained her old strength and energy.
Mara collected her papers and stood. “Send a runner for me if you need anything, and if you can’t find a runner, an apprentice mender should do.”
He watched after her as she left his chamber. How could he just wait here in bed, of all things? Laren was a captive of the Varosians, and Karigan had disappeared. He should be able to do something about that. He could look for Karigan and sail to Varos after Laren. If he stayed abed, he couldn’t do anything. He—
He yawned as a wave of drowsiness washed over him. His eyes drooped against his will, and within moments, he was deeply asleep.