by Cheryl Dyson
******
They descended from the mountains over the next few days, not willing to contend with the capricious weather in the higher altitudes. They spoke no further of Brydon’s ambition, nor of Toryn’s semi-captive status. Toryn no longer seemed quite so resentful, even though he still asked for a weapon each day and Brydon continued to refuse, albeit he was impressed with Toryn’s persistence.
"Any hope that we’re in Terris and not Akarska?" Toryn asked near mid-morning while he contemplated a scratch on his hand. He poked at it and winced, though the blood had likely dried some time ago.
"Quit prodding it or it won’t heal," Brydon warned. "You are getting dirt in it." Toryn threw him an absent glance of irritation. Brydon continued, "We are definitely in Akarska, but I have been trying to stay close to the Terran border."
"Yes, you are in Akarska, trespassers, and you can stop where you are, or die."
A large chestnut horse exited the trees. Its rider held a large bow with a wicked-looking arrow trained on Brydon’s chest. He and Toryn froze.
"Do you have horses?" she demanded.
"No," Brydon stated. For the first time, he was glad of the fact.
The girl dismounted by tossing one leg over the horse’s neck and dropping to the ground. Her appearance was that of a forest sprite, albeit a deadly one, as the bow did not waver for an instant. Her straight, pale blond hair did not quite brush her shoulders. She had fair skin under the brown cap that shaded her face.
"Who are you and what do you want here?" she asked.
"I am Brydon Redwing, of Falara, and this is Toryn of Redol. We want nothing in Akarska; we are merely passing through."
"This is not a pass-through. The road goes through Terris," she stated.
"We were traveling upon the road, but an avalanche forced us into abandoning it."
She frowned and then asked, "Have you seen any riders?"
"We have not seen anyone at all for the past week."
"I am searching for a stolen horse. A black stallion, one of the finest in Akarska. He has one white stocking and a seven-pointed star on his head."
Brydon shook his head. Toryn studied the sky as though he found the entire conversation tedious. He sighed. "You Akarskans are always looking for this stolen horse or that stolen horse. Why do you not keep better track of them?"
The girl’s face flamed and the bowstring tautened. Brydon looked at Toryn in incredulity. Toryn had been the one citing the dangers of Akarska and its residents and now he provoked one?
"Hold!" Brydon said quickly and stepped in front of Toryn, hoping she wouldn’t feather him on principle. "Are you a Hunter?"
The girl lowered the bow marginally, although she continued to glare at Toryn. "No, I am a Border Guard, but the Hunters have been unable to locate the stallion. It was taken nearly two months ago. We have reason to believe it was a filthy Redolian who took it." She glared at Toryn and then cocked a brow. "I thought Falarans and Redolians were mortal enemies."
"Generally, yes. We are simply traveling together to the Waryn Highway," Brydon said.
"Why is he not armed?" she asked.
Brydon coughed and shot a glance at Toryn. "Toryn is my prisoner, of sorts." Toryn glared daggers at him.
The girl smiled for the first time, looking more elfin than ever. She stood a full head shorter than either he or Toryn, although her authoritative attitude made her seem taller, somehow. "Why not kill him?" she questioned, obviously taken with the idea.
"I have not chosen to," Brydon replied. "Are you going to let us pass?"
Her fingers drummed upon her bowstave absently while she considered his question. She was a trim girl, lean and healthy-looking. She wore pale buckskin breeches that clung to her legs and a loose shirt the color of dark leaves. A brown cape was clasped about her neck and over that rested a quiver of arrows. Upon her hip was coiled a shiny black leather whip. From the looks of the whip it was not there for adornment.
"Why did you have to come to Akarska now?" she snapped at last. "I need to find the wretch who stole my horse." She sighed. "Still, it is my duty to escort you and ensure that you do no damage, nor stray into places where you have no business. For your own protection, I must guide you if I cannot persuade you to turn around."
"Not more duty," Toryn said and groaned. "I am sick to death of that word after listening to it fall from the Falaran’s lips every day. It’s bad enough that I am forced to accompany him. Must we have a wench tagging along, as well?"
The bow rose immediately. "Release your claim on him, Falaran, and I will slay him," she vowed. "Know that I would much rather pursue the thieves of my stallion than lead strangers where they have no business."
"I do not so release it. Put away your bow and travel with us, if you must." Brydon was sorely tempted to throttle Toryn himself after his odd behavior. Brydon shot him a silencing glare.
"A wench," Toryn swore, uncowed by the gaze.
"Are you trying to get us killed?" Brydon demanded in a low voice that brooked no argument.
The girl jammed her arrow back into the quiver and vaulted easily onto her steed.
"Have you a name?" Brydon asked.
"Alyn," she said curtly. "Lead and I will follow, but know that foreigners are not welcome on Akarskan soil. I will feather you with no regrets if you make the slightest trouble."
By the hopeful tone in her voice, she wanted them to make trouble. Brydon nodded and they started off once more, followed by Alyn on her chestnut horse.
