Karigan blushed, even more acutely aware of how she must look.
Lord Amberhill placed his hand on his hip, pushing his frock coat aside as if to display the tightness of his breeches.
Karigan’s blush intensified. “Excuse me,” she said. When she started to walk away, he pivoted and stood once more in her path.
“What? No friendly words for one who saw you through a bad night in the Teligmar Hills?”
“I’d forgotten,” Karigan replied, though it was untrue.
Amberhill placed his hand over his heart. “I am wounded you should forget. After all, without me, your hand would no longer be attached to your wrist.”
It was not a memory Karigan was fond of recalling, her hand on the chopping block, Immerez standing over her with hatchet at the ready to take from her what she had once taken from him. Yes, Amberhill rescued her, but she’d already thanked him for it. Perhaps he expected her to fawn at his feet and tell him how wonderful he was. He may be accustomed to that from other women, but he wasn’t going to get it from her.
“Good day, my lord,” she said with finality. This time she feinted right, then left to evade him, and hurried away.
“What?” he called after her. “Are you going to just vanish again? You are the vanishing lady, aren’t you?”
Karigan gritted her teeth and kept walking without a backward glance. If only she could vanish in plain daylight! She strode for a servants entrance, ignoring the complaints of sore muscles. It wouldn’t do to travel the public sections of the castle looking like this.
She sighed, amazed to think that King Zachary and Lord Amberhill were related. They couldn’t have been more different.
When she reached the Rider wing, desiring nothing more than a hot bath, she found at her door a pile of papers. More work. She began to wonder if she’d been called to the messenger service just to keep its ledgers balanced.
Someone moving about down at the other end of the corridor caught her attention. It was Elgin, and he was pacing. He saw her and strode over to her.
“Hello, Rider,” he said. “You’ve some good moves on the practice field.”
“You were there?”
Elgin nodded. “Your captain, too. She was most pleased.”
“Really?” Karigan smiled, delighted to hear of her captain’s approval.
“The look on that fellow’s face when you knocked the sword from his hand!” Elgin laughed, and Karigan’s own smile broadened.
“He made up for it after,” she replied, thinking of the bruises she’d have to show for it all.
“You did well when it counted, what with the king watching, too.”
So he had watched her! Pleasure flowed through her. Elgin gave her an odd look and she realized something must have shown on her face. She cleared her throat and changed the subject. “Something wrong? You were pacing.”
“Oh.” He scratched his head. “I’m due to take the young ones out to Gresia for arms practice, but ...”
“But?”
“Ty’s still in the common room with ’em. Making ’em bow and scrape.”
Karigan raised an eyebrow and felt dried mud crack. “Bow and scrape?”
Elgin grumbled something under his breath, then said, “Too much etiquette.”
“Ah,” Karigan replied, remembering her own sessions on the subject with Ty.
Elgin motioned for her to follow. She obliged, her bath and paperwork temporarily forgotten. They stopped at the doorway to the common room. Ty stood at the hearth, and the new Riders faced him in rows. They’d moved the big table out of the way against the wall, along with all the chairs.
“Once again,” Ty told his students. He placed his hand on his thigh, and bowed at the waist. “Thank you, my lady.”
The young Riders imitated him, bowing, and saying in unison, “Thank you, my lady.”
Karigan could not see their faces, but by their fidgeting, she could tell they’d had enough.
“My pleasure, my lord,” Ty said, bowing again.
This time when he bowed, a spitwad flew through the air and caught in his hair. He appeared not to perceive it, and this time, as the Riders attempted to imitate him, there was muffled laughter.
“Attend,” Ty said, straightening. The spitwad did not fall from his hair, and he remained oblivious to it. “We’ll do this once more.”
When he bowed again, spitwad and all, Karigan had to duck away from the door and cover her mouth to mute helpless giggles. “Rider Perfect” with a spitwad in his hair!
Elgin followed her with a rumbling sigh. “See what I mean? Too much etiquette. I need to speak with Mara about the training, but she’s as hard to get a moment with as Red.”
Karigan wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “Well, etiquette is important.”
“That’s about what Red said, but I’d think after what happened to Osric, and what may be coming with this Second Empire, a little more emphasis on arms training wouldn’t hurt. They’ve gotta learn to survive.”
On that sobering note, Elgin paced back toward the common room, leaving Karigan to ponder the pile of paperwork in front of her door. Elgin was right, of course, but learning to placate an angry noble with proper deference had probably saved a Rider or two in the past.
She shrugged, then scooped up the papers.A letter dropped out of them, and when she retrieved it from the floor, she discovered it was from Alton. Her bath, she thought, could wait a few minutes more.
Once she was ensconced in her room and kicked off her boots, she tore the seal with a certain amount of pleasure mixed with trepidation. They’d already had one exchange of letters since the fall, he asking forgiveness for the way he treated her when last they saw one another. His mind had been poisoned against her, he explained, by Blackveil, by Mornhavon. He did not, however, offer it as an excuse, instead placing the blame on himself, saying that he’d been a fool to believe such evil deceptions. How could he ever doubt her?
The humility of his apology dissipated any confusion, any hurt his behavior had caused her. They were still friends, but...
But.
Maybe she had read too much into his letter, but she sensed he wanted to be more than just friends. Maybe it was how ardently he expressed his desire to see her, how much he wished to make up for his poor conduct of the past. She shook her head. No, there was more behind his words, not to mention a little history.
They’d almost become “more than friends” once, but their schedules were so often in conflict that it never worked, and Karigan discovered she was actually relieved. She couldn’t explain exactly why, but somehow she couldn’t imagine herself and Alton that way together. It felt funny, and he was too dear to her to ruin their friendship with the complications of romance. In the end they settled for friendship, though there was always that tension between them, the hint of possibility on the horizon ...
In that light, though she was pleased to receive another letter from him, she also felt uneasy about what he might choose to express. Would he indicate a desire for being more than friends again?
Alton started the letter with the usual greetings and grumbled about the winter. He spoke of how much easier his work would be if only the king and captain would send him a small contingent of Riders, one for each tower. He and Dale had been hard-pressed to visit the towers in the bad weather, and made it only to those closest to them.
He complained about the tower mages and their penchant for partying. He mentioned names and personalities Karigan had a hard time keeping track of, except for Merdigen, whom she’d met.
He was pleased to report, however, the wall guardians seemed content. Frequently he checked them to ensure the song that bound the wall together remained strong and harmonious.
And then it came: Perhaps the captain could assign you down here. I will suggest it. Then we could spend much more time together—it would be far better than letters to have you here with me. We could work things out between us in person. I have thought continuously of you all thro
ugh the winter and really want to—here he broke off and scribbled something out, writing instead, see you and start over. Please come soon.
Karigan swallowed hard. He thought continuously of her? And what had he scribbled out? She tried angling the paper toward the little bit of light that filtered through the arrow slit that served as her window, but he’d been too generous with the ink and she couldn’t make it out. What did he really want?
What was clear was that he wanted her there. She had no idea if the captain would actually consider assigning her to the wall. On the one hand, Karigan would be away from the castle and King Zachary and all the wedding festivities. On the other, she would have to deal with Alton and any expectations he had of her. Maybe while he thought “continuously” of her, he’d built her up in his mind into someone she wasn’t. Time and separation sometimes had that effect, instead of distancing two people.
But time and separation hadn’t alleviated her feelings in regard to King Zachary, as much as she hoped it would. She didn’t know why, only that just thinking about him tangled her all up inside.
Men were confusing. King Zachary, Alton, Lord Amberhill, and even her father. They were mysterious in their ways and she would never understand them.
AMBERHILL
She was very mysterious, Xandis Pierce Amberhill mused, as he watched Karigan G’ladheon walk away from him. Even soaked and mud-splattered, with damp locks of hair falling in her face, he did not know what to make of her. Ordinary she might appear at first, but he’d seen her exercise power. He’d seen her vanish for real.
He’d first encountered her at the Sacor City War Museum, he in his guise as the Raven Mask to steal a document on exhibit, and she in the guise of a lady. She’d tried to stop him, even attired in fancy dress as she was. She grabbed a sword right off a wall display and attempted to prevent him from taking the document.
He learned much later that if she’d not been in dress and corset, and had been using a sword more suitable to her size, she could have seriously challenged him. At the time he’d only been amused.
The next time he saw her, they were clear across the country in the west, in the Teligmar Hills. She had rescued Lady Estora from kidnappers, then tried to draw them away from the king’s betrothed by disguising herself as the lady, only to be captured in turn. Amberhill, who’d tracked the abductors in his own bid to rescue Lady Estora, ended up rescuing Karigan G’ladheon instead. Or, at least her hand. The woman possessed enough fortitude to rescue herself.
In the wake of his adventures in the Teligmar Hills, he learned she was a royal messenger, which explained much about her courage and sense of duty. He noted the esteem with which the Weapons regarded her, and heard much later that she’d assisted them in recovering the book his cousin, the king, had been so concerned about. She’d earned herself knighthood.
And then there was the power.
She’d vanished before his eyes, yet she would not admit she possessed this ability. There was also that amazing black stallion that had been so much more than a horse he’d seen with her. Thoughts of the otherworldly stallion sent a shiver racing through him.
With slow strides he headed toward the castle deep in thought, deftly evading mud puddles and remnant clumps of snow.
As mysterious as Karigan G’ladheon was, he now possessed a puzzle of his own. He gazed at the dragon ring on his finger. The dragon’s tail was wrapped around its neck. The ruby eye flickered in the sunlight with gem fire and something more that was beyond his comprehension. It would require a journey to truly understand it.
Yes, a far-off voice seemed to whisper in his mind. A journey.
“I plan to embark on a journey,” Amberhill said. “I do not anticipate being back in time for the wedding, but I wanted to come to you with my best wishes.”
Zachary stroked his beard. He had been flushed and agitated upon entering the chamber—as if he’d been in an argument or had an unpleasant encounter. Lady Estora had mentioned something about a meeting. Whatever it was, it obviously had not gone the way Zachary wanted, but as they sat there, the king settled down, calmed, and became engaged in the conversation.
Lady Estora sat beside him. She was difficult to read. Was she disappointed by Amberhill’s pronouncement? She’d appeared pleased to see him when he arrived, placing a light kiss on his cheek, a pleasant scent of lavender rising from her skin.
He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable in her presence. Not because she was to be queen, and not because people proclaimed her the greatest beauty in the lands, but because he, as the Raven Mask, had engineered her abduction, only to be double-crossed by his employers, who turned out to be Second Empire. Guilt and vengeance had driven him to chase Lady Estora and her abductors all the way to the Teligmar Hills. Guilt for allowing the gentle lady to be taken into the hands of such thugs, and vengeance for the murder of his beloved manservant, Morry. He had yet to feel, however, that he’d fully righted the wrong.
So there he sat in the parlor of the royal apartments with his cousin and his cousin’s intended, and an elderly chaperone pulling thread on some needlework over by the fire. Servants brought them tea and warm scones dripping with honey butter. Two Hillander terriers watched the scones with bright eyes.
“A journey,” Zachary mused. “I must admit, Xandis, you’ve been a bit mysterious of late, and if I’m not mistaken, your fortunes appear to have improved.”
“Yes, my fortunes have indeed improved, but due to a very sad turn of events. My manservant passed away. Turns out he’d put aside a good deal of currency earned while in my grandfather’s employ, and made some excellent investments. Having no other family, he bequeathed it all to me.”
“That’s extraordinary,” Lady Estora murmured.
Amberhill nodded. It wasn’t every day a lord inherited from his servant. He’d come to the conclusion that in addition to Morry’s regular excellent wages, he’d received bonuses from his grandfather, the first Raven Mask, following particularly successful thefts. But while Morry’s wealth had been enough to begin repairs on his decaying ancestral manse and to acquire some fine brood mares to help establish the horse breeding stable he dreamed of, Amberhill’s true increase in fortune came from pirate treasure. This he used sparingly so his rise to great wealth did not appear too sudden. He did not wish for people to make it a topic of common gossip, or to ask questions.
He sold exquisite pieces of jewelry and gems, as well as coins through dealers he’d worked with when he stole oddments of jewelry as the Raven Mask. These dealers were of questionable scruples, but adhered to a solemn oath of privacy as demanded by their clientele. They dealt in only the finest quality objects as well, but still raised eyebrows at some of the pieces he’d brought them. They were not only worth much for their material value, but were of great antiquity.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Zachary said. “Where will you go?”
Amberhill grinned, and with a half-bow toward Lady Estora, he replied, “Why to Coutre Province to visit the lands your lady’s father endowed upon me.” Lands he was awarded for his part in trying to rescue Lady Estora. What would happen if Lord Coutre learned the truth of Amberhill’s hand in his daughter’s abduction? He’d done much to ensure that would not happen.
To tell the truth, he wasn’t sure he would actually visit Coutre Province. He’d journey to the east coast, yes, but ... The pull was strong, just not specific.
Go to sea, the voice whispered. Set sail toward the dawn.
His new lands in Coutre were simply a convenient excuse.
Excuse or not, Lady Estora expressed her delight at his answer by mentioning sights he must not miss upon reaching the port of Midhaven, including the massive chapel of the moon there, a match to any in size in Sacor City. Her eyes took on a far away look as she described favorite haunts, her voice a song.
She sounded homesick. Zachary listened politely. Polite and reserved, sitting well back in his chair, not leaning toward the lady as if to take in her every word or absorb
her essence.
Not a besotted suitor, Amberhill decided. He almost sighed, thinking it would be another of those loveless matches made only for an alliance. Love didn’t matter, really, so long as the two produced heirs. It made him think, rather rudely, of his horse breeding farm.
Perhaps if Zachary put forth a little more effort toward Lady Estora? She was not difficult to look upon and was very kind and intelligent. A rare combination. Zachary should consider himself fortunate. It led Amberhill to suspect there was someone else his cousin desired. Zachary was a serious fellow, and his affections ran deeper than Amberhill’s ever could . He was an upstanding man and a good, decent king, but those virtues were failing him in regard to his betrothed.
Amberhill kept his own relations with women frivolous and very temporary. He’d never fallen in love. Well, maybe for a day or two. He was fond of several ladies, and they provided him with all the warmth and pleasure he desired. Zachary should take this other woman to be his mistress and be done with it. It was a common enough practice among noble lords.
Zachary then surprised him by smiling at Lady Estora and commenting on some detail of the coast of Coutre Province. Lady Estora smiled back.
“Yes,” she said, “the view of it from the sea is magnificent.”
Amberhill thought he’d better attend more to the actual conversation, but the dynamics between his cousin and the lady intrigued him. It occurred to him how difficult it must be for the two to get to know one another when they were always chaperoned and often caught amid the throngs during official functions. Despite it all, and Amberhill’s belief Zachary was interested in someone else, Amberhilll had to re-evaluate and conclude that there was some warmth between the two after all. They certainly were not smitten with each other, but they were at least on congenial terms. Perhaps it would evolve into more with time.
“I climbed the Seamount when I was, oh, sixteen or so,” Zachary said. “I was traversing the provinces, seeing what I could see of Sacoridia. From the summit of Seamount the view of the harbor and islands was stunning. I found the blueberries growing there most delicious as well.”
Blackveil: Book Four of Green Rider Page 14
