Riders of the Realm #2

by Jennifer Lynn Alvarez

  Thunder cracked, and Harak hollered to the Sandwen armies. “You heard the princess; her mother lives and breathes on Fifth Clan soil!” Then to the giants he signed, “I’Lenna cannot bargain with you. She’s a false queen!”

  The three Gorlan kings rumbled at I’Lenna, signing angrily. Rahkki recognized one word. “Liar.” I’Lenna screamed when the Fire Horde giants swarmed her.

  “Kill her and all who follow her!” Harak bellowed. Then he led a charge to battle—not against the giants, but against his fellow Sandwens.

  The Fifth Clan’s unrest ignited as clansmen charged clansmen.

  46

  Choices

  ECHOFROST REARED AS THE SANDWENS SPLIT into two groups and charged each other. “This isn’t good,” she whinnied to Hazelwind.

  “Stick together,” the stallion neighed. They pressed their foreheads together, and tears sprang to Echofrost’s eyes, but there was no time to talk.

  Harak leaped onto his stallion and flew Ilan at the line of Sandwen rebels, his sawa blade raised as he attacked his own people.

  “Harak, no!” Tuni screamed.

  Rahkki leaned over Echofrost’s neck, ducking to avoid the cast of arrows flying all around them. His breath came loud and fast; his muscles flexed against her hide.

  Shysong leaped off the cliff and soared down its face. “Now’s our chance to free the last of the trapped pegasi!”

  Echofrost’s blood thrummed as she and Hazelwind followed Shysong to the net where several steeds struggled, still encaged by the heavy ropes. Rahkki tried to steer her toward the princess, but she flouted him, choosing her own path.

  The valley dissolved into chaos as the Highland Horde king directed his fighters to resume their attack against the clans.

  I’Lenna’s voice rang out from the cliff’s edge. “STOP! I command you!”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Harak shouted.

  Echofrost threw her gaze skyward and watched the Fire Horde king snatch the princess off her feet. I’Lenna fought him; furious tears streaming down her face. Her beautiful green riding cloak lay mud-trampled far below.

  “I’Lenna!” Rahkki cried, and Echofrost felt his tension ratchet higher.

  Several Land Guard soldiers dipped their arrows into the remains of the oil-fueled fire and shot flaming missiles at the elephant-riding giants. The Great Cave Horde warriors rushed toward Hazelwind, their spears lifted high. Their saber cats had deserted them, seeking shelter from the pouring rain.

  Rahkki’s legs tightened around Echofrost’s ribs. “The giants think I’Lenna lied to them!” he screamed at Tuni. “Help her!” But Tuni was fending off her own attackers.

  Hearing the princess’s name, Echofrost glanced up again. I’Lenna had been made to stand at the very edge of the high shelf. The angry giants were scouring the flat mesa, picking up rocks.

  “They’re going to hurt her,” Rahkki shouted, yanking harder on Echofrost’s reins and kicking her sides. The metal bit chafed her tongue and clanked against her teeth. Echofrost bucked hard, and Rahkki flew off her back. Her hooves tore the grass, her nostrils flared. Rahkki wanted to help the princess, but she wanted to free the rest of her trapped friends.

  The cub rolled over, his eyes pleading with her. “Save I’Lenna, please.” He pointed at the princess on the high cliff.

  “Watch out,” Hazelwind neighed.

  A spear shot toward them. Echofrost reared onto her back heels, and the whittled tree-spear whooshed past her. Then more spears flew in their direction. Blast it! She galloped to Rahkki, snatched his collar, and tossed him onto her back. Then she and Hazelwind powered off the grass and glided toward Shysong and the netting. “Hazelwind and I will free the rest of the herd,” Echofrost neighed to Shysong. “Go help your princess.”

  Shysong nodded and darted away.

  Echofrost and Hazelwind joined Storm Herd in unraveling the massive net. Dewberry stood near, trying to loosen a stubborn knot. The mare was drenched in sweat.

  “Stop,” Echofrost whinnied to her. “It’s almost your time.”

  The pinto whirled. “I won’t leave anyone behind.” Her once-glossy white-and-bay coat had dulled, and dry flakes dusted her emerald feathers. Her round flanks had hollowed, exposing sharp hip bones.

  A sob caught in Echofrost’s throat. “You must rest. Please.”

  Dewberry pressed her forehead, quick and fast, against Echofrost’s. “I’m fine,” she said, clasping her wings around her belly. “I won’t let anything happen to these foals.” Then the mare cantered away to disentangle the final few pegasi. With Echofrost and Hazelwind helping, they lifted the frayed net with their wings, freeing steed after steed in frenzied motion.

  Lightning crackled, and static filled the cloud-dark sky. Moments later, the final Storm Herd steed was loose. Echofrost’s herd was united, though some had died in the battle.

  Hazelwind arched his neck. “Let’s go!” He glanced at the melee around them. “This isn’t our fight.”

  “Wait! What about Rahkki?” Echofrost nodded at the boy on her back.

  “Shrug him off!” Dewberry neighed.

  “I can’t leave him in the middle of this.” Echofrost leaped out of the way as a lone bull elephant thundered past, trumpeting in grief for his slain keeper.

  Hazelwind reared, and his long wind-tangled mane blew in the breeze. He was bug bitten and filthy, and her heart soared with love for him. But she couldn’t just leave. “Rahkki brought this army to free Storm Herd,” she reminded her friends.

  “Then let’s honor the cub by going!” Hazelwind neighed.

  Echofrost glanced at the battle—Sandwen against Sandwen, giants against Sandwen. The Fifth Clan armies would not survive this day. Sorrow gripped her.

  Hazelwind pinned his ears. “We’re losing time! We crossed the Dark Water to start a new herd. Now let’s fly!”

  “But—”

  “Have you forgotten Star and Nightwing, and all we’ve endured?” Frustration lifted Hazelwind’s tail.

  The front line of elephants trampled through a formation of Sandwen soldiers. Then spears flew down from the cliffs, thrown by the Fire Horde warriors. Dozens of Sandwens fell where they stood, and Echofrost’s gut twisted.

  Shysong descended, huffing. “I can’t save I’Lenna by myself. I can’t get past the giants,” she cried.

  Hazelwind tossed his mane, his patience gone. “They’re Landwalkers! What are you two waiting for? Just leave them.” He trumpeted the call to retreat, and the Storm Herd steeds collected.

  Echofrost twirled, shedding purple feathers in the center of the valley. Rizah was kicking at a giant with her back hooves, Ilan bled from a spear strike, and Jax had his powerful jaws locked on a teenage giant’s arm. Koko, Mut, Tam, and Jul backed themselves into a circle and fought against the Gorlanders together. This wasn’t Storm Herd’s fight, or was it? Echofrost thought.

  She nodded toward Rahkki. “I won’t leave him in this mess,” she sputtered. Tears erupted and striped her muddy cheeks.

  “What about me?” Hazelwind neighed, his eyes hot with anguish. “I’m your future, not that cub.” He dodged a spear that flew toward him, but kept his eyes trained on Echofrost. Behind him, an elephant tossed a warrior across the valley; giants screamed as molten arrows pierced their skin, and the boldest saber cats deserted their shelters and galloped across the grass, fangs flashing.

  “I’ll catch up,” Echofrost neighed to Hazelwind. “Get Dewberry out of here. Please.”

  He recoiled from her, his jaw gaping.

  She knew she was making the wrong choice, knew it to the core of her soul, and yet she did it anyway. I’ll never learn, her mind bellowed. She gazed wistfully at Hazelwind, Dewberry, Graystone, and Redfire. They were her herd, but Rahkki—he was her friend. “I’ll catch up,” she repeated.

  Frustrated, the buckskin arched his proud neck. “No,” he breathed. “I won’t leave you, Echofrost.” Then Hazelwind whinnied to Storm Herd. “Take Dewberry to the tree nests we built
earlier. I’m staying to fight.”

  “So am I,” Redfire bugled.

  “And I,” Graystone echoed.

  “The rest of you, go,” Hazelwind commanded. “Protect Dewberry. Wait for us.”

  The pegasi refugees from Anok rose out of the valley, a blur of vibrant colors with Dewberry at their center—like a living heart—and they soared together through the untamed sky. Watching them go, Echofrost’s soul felt renewed.

  Storm Herd was free, and Hazelwind had chosen to fight beside her.

  Then a sharp nicker reached her ears. Echofrost whipped her head around to see Shysong bolting toward her, her eyes round. “I’m with you too, Echofrost!” Upon those words, the five friends rallied together.

  “Yes!” Rahkki cried. He reloaded his blowgun and shouted up to Fire Horde, signing with his hands in Gorlish. “That’s my princess!” Then he aimed his weapon and fired.

  Reloaded.

  And fired again.

  He shot his treated darts, and all around him, giants smacked onto the grass. Awed stares followed Rahkki. He smiled and reloaded.

  47

  Magic

  RAHKKI TIGHTENED HIS LEGS AROUND SULA AS he shot his darts at the Gorlanders. The Fire Horde giants were preparing to knock I’Lenna off the cliff. Liar or charmer—it didn’t matter anymore—he couldn’t let I’Lenna die. And he knew how to save her and his people. He’d show the Gorlanders the full measure of his power.

  Just because you don’t understand something doesn’t make it magical, I’Lenna had said, but she was wrong. Lack of understanding was exactly what made something magical, and Rahkki was going to prove it.

  The Sandwens had ceased fighting one another, for now, as the giants pressed harder against them, forcing them to unite. Rahkki and Sula blasted across the valley, his blowgun to his lips. His drool-soaked darts only needed to graze a Gorlander’s skin to fell the beast—the sleep medicine was that powerful—and he had hundreds of darts left. Firo, the buckskin stallion, the tall copper-colored steed, and a thick-bodied white stallion followed him and Sula into battle.

  His silver mare tucked her wings and cruised toward the elephant-riding giants, speeding like an arrow. The buckskin soared beside her. Firo and the other three spread around them. Rahkki sat tall on Sula’s back, adjusting his weight as she rocketed toward the front line of Highland Horde warriors, flying almost sideways. Years of riding young, untrained horses helped him balance and anticipate her movements.

  As Sula’s wings brushed the sides of the charging elephants, Rahkki shot his darts in rapid order, zapping Gorlanders in their exposed necks, calves, and arms. They tumbled off their elephants in droves.

  The Land Guard and Sky Guard warriors rallied. “Rahkki the Giant Slayer!” Tuni hollered, grinning in relief and surprise.

  Rahkki spotted Mut, Koko, Jul, and Tam. They raised their fists in victory. Firo peeled off, returning to hover along the cliff wall, near I’Lenna, as though calculating how to save I’Lenna. The rest of the wild herd was gone; they’d flown out of sight, and this relieved Rahkki’s mind. He no longer had to worry about Lilliam selling them to Daakur. But why had Sula and these others stayed behind? His heart fluttered. Had the silver mare grown to like him that much?

  A bludgeon swung toward his head. Sula dipped so fast that Rahkki floated off her back. Snatching her mane, he pulled himself back into the saddle, and the bludgeon just missed striking him. Rahkki twisted and blew a dart into the giant’s neck, and the Gorlander tumbled off his elephant.

  Sula and her buckskin stallion dived, feinted, and attacked, their movements fluid and their timing perfect, like a long-practiced dance. Rahkki complimented their efforts with hard puffs into his blowgun. The length and special dynamics of the long pipe caused his darts to launch farther and faster than he could have shot arrows. The rain and wind might have interfered, but years of hunting slippery fish in the River Tsallan had made Rahkki mighty accurate in spite of the breeze.

  Then the Highland Horde prince rushed toward them aboard his massive ivory-tusked bull. His gaze met Rahkki’s. The wound left by the python still marred his neck. The prince snorted at the boy but left him alone, perhaps because Rahkki had saved his life. His warriors followed the prince along the valley, stealing weapons off felled soldiers.

  Meanwhile, the Highland king’s fingers sent rapid orders to his horde, and he rumbled at Rahkki like an angry tiger. Sula darted up and out of the elephant brigade, hovering a moment to catch her breath. Rahkki stroked her sweating neck, suddenly grateful for his slight weight. His mare, unused to carrying armor, let alone a person, would not last much longer.

  Then Harak soared beside them, distracting Rahkki. The Headwind’s blond hair was matted with dirt, his eyes bloodshot. “How are you doing that?” he asked, pointing at the battlefield.

  Hundreds of Gorlanders were strewn across the valley—their eyes closed, their bodies still—and Rahkki knew that no warrior in Sandwen history could claim such a death toll. Sure he could tell Harak the truth, that he’d sent them into a deep sleep; but in this case, it was much more enjoyable to lie. “It’s magic,” he said.

  Harak flinched, and, just like that, Rahkki’s legend sprouted a new flower. Satisfaction welled within the orphan prince.

  Tuni, who was gliding across the valley aboard Rizah, banked her mare toward them. Then Meela shot across the sky, and the four of them hovered, facing one another, tension zipping between them.

  “This will be over soon,” Tuni said. Her eyes shifted to Rahkki, her expression wondrous. “Our new Rider has decimated two Gorlan hordes by himself.”

  “Magicker,” Harak mouthed at Rahkki.

  Tuni kicked her mare toward the blond Headwind, and Rizah’s chest pushed against Ilan’s. “Victory is at hand, Harak, but whose: Lilliam’s or I’Lenna’s?” She lifted her chin, and her wet red hair curled around her shoulders. “We don’t have to fight each other. The clan can unite behind the new queen.”

  Harak swiped his drenched hair. “You’re all traitors, yeah. If you take orders from I’Lenna, I’ll arrest you.”

  They each stared at the princess on the cliff, including Rahkki. I’Lenna’s agile fingers blurred as she argued with the Fire Horde king. She stomped her boots and beat her fists like a horde-born Gorlander.

  The Fire Horde king silenced everyone by blowing through a carved-out tusk, creating a bellowing noise that filled the canyon valley. Rahkki glanced around him, startled. His quick darts had swung the advantage back to his clan—the giants were now outnumbered. The Fire Horde king signed to the Highland king and the Great Cave king, and then he addressed the Sandwens.

  Tuni flew Rizah closer to translate his words in her most booming voice. “The giants say they will release I’Lenna Whitehall if we leave the valley now.”

  The Sandwens who were loyal to the princess cheered. The others shouted in protest.

  Harak addressed the armies. “Look around, we’ve won this battle, yeah.” He laughed, motioning toward the fallen giants. “Let’s finish off these beasts and bring victory home to our true queen and her new princeling son! You can keep the princess,” he signed to Fire Horde.

  A Fire Horde warrior approached I’Lenna, looking furious and betrayed.

  “Don’t!” She leaned away from him, and one foot slipped off the cliff. The giant yanked her back onto two feet and slid a hood over her head, covering her face.

  Rahkki’s gut flipped at the sight of his princess—hooded like a falcon.

  The soot-smudged Gorlan warrior pushed I’Lenna to the very edge of the cliff, quickly binding her hands and feet in twine. Ten giants formed a line facing her. Each held a handful of rocks. They were going to strike her off the cliff, but it wouldn’t be the fall that killed her. It would be the first volley of stones hurled by giants. I’Lenna would be dead before her body hit the ground.

  Conflicting images clashed in Rahkki’s mind: the laughing girl who snuck into his bedroom, the ambitious princess who usurped her mot
her, the fierce idealist who stood up to Harak, and the generous friend who shared her candy. Which I’Lenna was real? Could she be all of them?

  He jabbed his heels into Sula’s sides. “Yah, Sula!” His mare sprang off the grass and rocketed straight up the side of the cliff, leaving Rahkki’s gut floating behind him. He leaned over her neck, squinting against the wind. Firo glided near, whinnying in distress. Rahkki met the roan’s ice-blue eyes, and a reckless idea formed in his mind.

  Then he and Sula cleared the top of the cliff.

  The princess swayed, alone and blind, her body trembling, the breeze pressing the heavy hood against her face.

  Sula swooped low over the plateau, and Rahkki leaped off her back, falling several lengths. He landed in a squat, then quickly stood. The Fire Horde king challenged him, and Rahkki signed in Gorlish, using his limited vocabulary. “Mine,” he said, pointing at I’Lenna. Then he ripped off her hood, his dagger in hand.

  I’Lenna froze at the sight of Rahkki’s blade inches from her face. Her skin was pale, her eyes dark and wide. Blood and dirt caked her fingernails.

  The horde backed away from the small Sandwen boy who’d single-handedly slain hundreds of Gorlanders.

  Rahkki sliced the bindings around I’Lenna’s wrists. She exhaled hard. “Rahkki, I—”

  The king roared at the sight of I’Lenna being cut free, and the line of ten giants loosed their stones at the princess. Rahkki clutched her close, blocking her body with his. The rocks struck his armored back and legs. It was like being rammed by water buffalo. He stumbled forward, almost knocking her off the cliff. Pain seared his thoughts.

  I’Lenna screamed at the giants. “Don’t hurt him!” But they didn’t understand Sandwen.

  Next, Rahkki’s mare charged the Gorlanders, kicking their outstretched arms. They drove her off with spears and then hurled another round of stones at Rahkki.

  The rocks dented his new armor, but the metal protected him. One stone, however, slammed into his anklebone and he heard it crack. Another stone struck his helmet. He released I’Lenna and crumpled to his knees, his ears ringing. I’Lenna crouched beside him, and he pushed the handle of his dagger into her palm. “Cut your legs free,” he said, gasping.