Sky Rider

by Terry Mancour

  “When you increase the size of the bird, through magic, you also increase its deadliness,” she continued, as she took the wand controlling Frightful’s enchantment from her belt.

  In a moment, the six recruits were gasping at the mammoth falcon that preened even more proudly after she’d been transformed. “In this size, Frightful can hunt a full-grown buck as easily as she can a rabbit in her normal size. And, once she’s properly equipped and trained, my goal is to turn her – and each of you – not just into a better hunter, but a better fighter. One that can contend with dragons, if need be.”

  Dara started putting the new harness Master Andalnam had delivered to her a few days before – this would be its trial run – on Frightful, with Nattia’s assistance. The Kasari falconer had been Dara’s first recruit, and for weeks her only recruit, as she scoured Sevendor for potential Sky Riders. It hadn’t been an easy task.

  She envisioned that the Sky Riders would have to conform to certain standards. Unlike the chivalry, who valued pure strength and size to practice their bloody trade, Dara’s Sky Riders needed to be lithe, small, and light enough to not overburden the birds. They had to be bold and brave, willing to risk falling from the sky or worse fates. They had to be intelligent and teachable enough to learn almost as much as a professional falconer, as well as all the skills Dara assumed a Sky Rider would need to fly.

  That had excluded most of the population of Sevendor – but Dara and Nattia had persisted. With only a few weeks left of autumn, Dara had managed to find enough recruits to fill out her first Wing (the unit name Dara thought most appropriate for a flying service). While they would spend the winter learning falconry with Master Arcor, they would also be practicing for the spring, when they would attempt to do what Dara was demonstrating: flying on the backs of their giant falcons.

  If all went well, she was hoping to visit Chepstan Fair next year by air.

  The saddle that Master Andalnam had produced was as beautiful as it was magical. The dark red leather of the straps and seat were richly tooled with falcons and feathers.

  There was a short knob in the front, a wide seat and stirrups, and reins attached. Quivers and leather bags were attached for useful gear, in the future – right now, Dara had little idea of what would be needed. When she sat in the comfortable saddle for the first time, perched on Frightful’s back, she was gratified to feel the spells included in the harness reach out and bind her to the saddle, securing her tightly enough she would not fall off.

  She hoped.

  “We’re estimating each bird will be able to bear up to five hundred pounds, at this size,” she boasted to her recruits. “With my saddle and gear, I’m about half of that. That means Frightful can carry me and perhaps even a passenger. Or pick up a goblin and drop him in a river. We’re working on magic that can improve how much they’ll be able to bear even more, but they should be strong enough to bear a rider for hours, much like a horse.”

  The recruits gawked at the sight of her mounted. She was wearing a tight-fitting leather jacket heavily-lined with sheepskin. She had wisely commissioned warmer clothing for flying, even more important now that the weather was turning cold. A leather infantry cap was strapped to her head – not because it would keep her safe in a fall, but because it kept her hair from flying into her mouth.

  “The primary purpose of Sky Riding is to provide a clear vision of what is going on in the field to our commanders – like a scout does for an army, only from the air. The secondary purpose is to help our warriors on the ground. And the third . . . is to intervene should any flying pests invade.”

  “Like nightwebs?” asked one of the girls in line. She held the falcon on her arm cautiously, as if she were a bit afraid of it.

  “Like dragons,” Dara countered, gravely, as Frightful shifted her weight impatiently from leg to leg. “Make no mistake: that is the ultimate goal, to meet dragons in the air and discourage them.”

  “Are dragons this big?” asked another recruit.

  “Far larger,” Dara answered. “The one at Cambrian was sixty feet long. And it was a young one. We will fly in flocks, using speed and numbers to counter. At least, that’s the theory,” she admitted.

  “Now, I’m going to demonstrate just what you have to look forward to,” she promised, as Frightful began to get impatient. “I’ve done this several times, now, and it’s a lot of fun, once you get over the sheer terror. While you won’t have my advantage as a beastmaster, with my help I can assist you in learning how to communicate with your bird in a rudimentary way. Enough to steer them, at least. At least, that’s the theory,” she repeated, earning a chuckle from her recruits.

  “I’m going to take a quick circle around the vale, before I return here and take each one of you aloft with me. That will help you decide if you want to keep going,” she offered. Without further explanation, she urged Frightful to spring into the sky. The falcon took only two steps before her powerful wings beat their way into the air.

  Dara was gratified to see that the magic saddle made taking off a far less wild ride than before; she barely shifted her weight as Frightful climbed to an appropriate altitude. She banked automatically toward the thermal behind Rundeval and rose still higher, before soaring out over the castle and above the town of Sevendor, below.

  The rest of the vale passed below her while she picked up speed, and Frightful banked over Brestal Castle, on the far side of the domain, with the elegance of a dancer before heading back west. Dara thrilled at the sensation of speed, and experimented with the new harness, exchanging notes with Frightful as to fit and comfort. She was amazed that her mount gave her a relatively stable position – and a far smoother ride than Lumpy ever did.

  Dara headed back toward the castle, after letting her bird stretch her wings. Without telling her to, Frightful began to dive toward the upper towers of the place. Dara didn’t realize what she was doing until the last moment, when her shadow passed over the gleaming white stone . . . and Frightful uttered a profoundly loud screech that set every cat in the castle running for cover in terror.

  Smugly, her bird pulled up and beat her wings one last time before gliding to a stop where she’d started.

  Dara was breathless, as she surveyed her excited, wide-eyed recruits.

  “Who’s first?” she asked with a grin.

  The End