CAPTAIN TREMAN ARRIVES

Zachary led Condor back to his picket. He was alarmed by Karigan’s dejection, didn’t know what to do. The sense of helplessness washed over him again. He was a king. He was supposed to have the power to make things better, and it ate at him that he could not even help one whom he loved.

He decided he could use the company of a horse himself, so he cast about for Condor’s grooming kit. When he found it, he set to Condor’s hide with a curry comb. He raised clumps of winter coat that tumbled away in the breeze.

“Thought you, of anyone, would have drawn her out,” he murmured to the gelding.

Zachary had some familiarity with despair due to his own wounding. There had been dark times when he wondered if he’d ever return to his old strength. The betrayals of his then-counselors and the situation with Estora had not helped, and it all only worsened when Karigan did not come back from Blackveil.

He leaned into the currying, and Condor grunted with pleasure and flicked his tail.

“You missed her, too, didn’t you, boy.”

Only Zachary’s duty, and conflict with Second Empire, had brought him back, and there was always that fine thread of hope he’d held on to that Karigan would, in fact, return. He always felt he’d have sensed it if she’d perished, and so he never gave up, though he did come close more than once. When she did return, he finally healed fully. Sadly, it seemed his own experience with despair failed to help him with Karigan’s.

He ducked under Condor’s neck to work on his other side, and Zachary reminded himself that if it took him so long to recover from the arrow wound—both mentally and physically—he could not expect Karigan to be all better in so short a time. She hadn’t even the benefit of Ben Simeon’s true healing ability to help her.

He had been tortured himself at the hands of Grandmother, but with no obvious lasting wounds. He remembered pain, but no longer felt it. He could not recall much about what was done to him during that time. Perhaps one day he’d know if he’d given up any information. There was no evidence of torture upon his body. Not like Karigan, who would bear the scars for the rest of her life.

Estral wandered over and surveyed the clumps of chestnut horse hair snagging on grasses and brush. “You make a fine groom, Your Majesty.”

He smiled. “Spring shedding, a sure sign of winter in retreat, at last.”

“Poor Bane looks like he wants a little love, too.”

“I will work on him next. We could stuff a mattress with his hair.” A glance revealed that Mist looked as pristine as ever as she daintily cropped at the coarse grass.

Estral chuckled, then sobered. “I saw what you did with Condor earlier, taking him to see Karigan. Did it help at all? Did she respond?”

Zachary paused and picked hair off the curry comb. “Not much, I’m afraid. I—I fear that perhaps I am pushing too hard. I have never seen her so despondent. But you have known her longer . . .”

Estral slowly shook her head. “I haven’t either. I’ve seen her angry, upset, grieving. Nothing like this, but then I don’t know how one is supposed to be after having been hurt like she was. That on top of all that happened to her in the future time.”

Her loss of Cade, Zachary thought. He slowly worked the curry comb over Condor’s hind end.

“I can’t help thinking,” Estral said, “that she has some battle going on inside, and it is taking all she has.”

Zachary stopped. “That is an apt description. I have tried to help, but I am afraid I am more of a hindrance. She feels . . . she is scrupulous about not wanting to interfere with my marriage, and I am afraid my own desire to help only hurts her, makes it all the worse.” He was not afraid to speak of such things to Estral for she had shown she already very clearly knew there were feelings between him and Karigan.

“I can see it is difficult,” Estral replied. “She must be torn, both wanting to be comforted by you, and to be distant.”

“I do not know what to do, if helping is hurting her.” Facing an army of Second Empire seemed easier. It was concrete, he knew what to do, it was a problem he could solve.

“It may be,” Estral said, “it is a battle she must fight on her own.”

Zachary thought back to his own struggles after the arrow wound. Karigan may want to be left alone, but she shouldn’t be. She may have to fight her inner battle on her own, but she needed friends to lend support. But maybe he shouldn’t be one of them.

“I must admit,” Estral said, “she has me a bit perplexed this time around. She’s pretty resilient, but maybe it gets harder to rebound after a while.”

“So, you’ve no advice for me?”

“I know what I’d tell you if you were not married to someone else,” Estral said, “but since you are? It’s a little harder. Still, I don’t think love is ever misplaced.”

He watched after her as she wandered away; then he exchanged the curry comb for a stiff brush, planning to work Condor from nose to tail. Before he started, however, the gelding rested his chin on Zachary’s shoulder and heaved the longest, deepest, most heartfelt sigh ever.

Zachary patted his neck. “I know exactly how you feel, boy.”

•   •   •

By the time Zachary finished with both Condor and Bane, he was overcome with a sense of accomplishment he hadn’t felt in far too long. He was also covered in horse and pony hair, but the two gleamed in the sun and had seemed to bask in the attention. He’d combed and pulled Condor’s mane and tail, as well, and now wound some of the coarse tail hair into a circle and inserted it into his belt pouch.

He was trying to brush the hair off his clothes when he heard some commotion in the campsite. He left the horses at a jog, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Or, rather, Karigan’s sword.

To his relief, Captain Treman had finally arrived, accompanied by one of his officers, as well as Fiori, and, to Zachary’s surprise, Rider-Lieutenant Connly and a pair of Weapons. Actually, one of the Weapons was a trainee in dark gray. The other, the full Weapon, was Donal. Estral and Enver had already gone forward to greet them.

When he approached, the Weapons dismounted and bowed before him. The others followed their example. The formality felt odd after so long away from court.

“Your Majesty,” Donal said, “we are pleased to see that you are safe. Your message, which Lord Fiori bore, has been sent on to the castle with Rider Oldbrine. Lieutenant Connly is at your disposal, should you like to send any others.”

He glanced at Connly, who was, at the moment, speaking softly with Estral and Enver. He followed them into Enver’s tent. Good, Zachary thought. Perhaps the presence of another Green Rider would help Karigan.

Zachary, the captain, his lieutenant, and Fiori sat beside the campfire. The Weapons stood off some distance taking up their customary watchful stances, which was a familiar feeling, and not unwelcome. Perhaps he could now put much of his ordeal as a captive behind him.

“Lord Fiori explained to us a good deal of what happened to you,” Captain Treman said, “and how you were freed from Second Empire. It would seem the realm owes a great deal to Enver of Eletia and Rider G’ladheon.”

“Yes,” Zachary replied. “More than you know.”

He learned how, before Fiori had arrived at the River Unit’s encampment, the Weapons and Green Riders had shown up in search of him.

“It was the queen’s idea to send such configurations of searchers throughout the realm looking for you,” Treman explained.

“And she did so without leaving herself or the royal tombs unguarded,” Donal added. “As an additional benefit, our trainees are receiving some real world experience.”

He also learned how the aureas slee had been overcome at the castle.

“The ash girl?” he asked.

“Yes, sire,” Donal said from where he kept watch. “Captain Mapstone says the girl has been training with Green Riders, though she has no special ability. Something of the Riders, especially Sir Karigan’s quick thinking, seems to have rubbed off on her.”

The girl, he thought, deserved some commendation. If all his servants were so brave, Second Empire would not stand a chance. He thanked the gods, also, for Laren identifying the elemental.

“The ash girl also helped the captain after her accident, running errands and the like,” Donal said.

“Accident? What accident?”

Donal explained.

“Good gods.” Zachary shook his head. “I thought she would have learned the first time she was thrown into a fence.” He was relieved she had not been hurt worse.

“The queen managed to salvage talks with the Rhovans,” Treman told him.

The Rhovans. In all the crises, Zachary had forgotten about the Rhovans, and as they talked, his pride in his queen swelled, and he was humbled by her abilities and accomplishments in a time of duress.

Connly soon emerged from Enver’s tent and joined them by the fire; his expression was disturbed.

“How did Rider G’ladheon look to you?” Zachary asked.

“I did not see her wounds,” Connly replied, “though Lord Fiori told us what happened.”

“I am not speaking, precisely, of her wounds,” Zachary said.

“She is not well,” Connly replied. “Dark, like I have not seen her before.”

Captain Treman, who had been listening, asked, “Should I have our mender come?”

Zachary knew who that mender was since he had assigned him to the River Unit himself. His immediate inclination was negative, to not let a traitor near Karigan, but that mender had been one of the finest in the realm. Still, Enver had done very well by Karigan.

“Firebrand,” the Eletian said, “I have done all I can for the Galadheon. Perhaps the mender has lore that I do not that will help her.”

“Very well,” Zachary said.

The captain nodded. “Lieutenant Connly, head back to our intermediate position and bring Destarion to us.” Most of Treman’s complement had hung back in the cover of the Green Cloak as Zachary had wished, but he’d also set up a small intermediate camp about halfway from there.

Connly rode out immediately. Zachary was relieved that the River Unit had arrived at last and he could take action—no more waiting or wondering. He turned back to Captain Treman to talk strategy.