In the shrubbery outside her window, chickadees and white-throated sparrows called out. She opened the window to listen, and was startled by a movement in the shadows of the barracks. Another Weapon. One to guard her from the inside, the other to guard her from the outside.
Karigan turned her back to the window, letting the curtains fall back into place. With a sigh, she attended to washing up and eating some of the food that had been left on the table. Eventually, someone would come to question her.
It was another hour or so before Karigan found herself pacing the tiny room, wishing for Mel or any company at all. The remnants of her meal had been swept away by a servant who was in too much of a hurry to say much more than she was sorry for the intrusion.
Another half hour passed and Karigan stared out the window at the horses, wishing she were one of them. The life of a horse must surely be less complicated.
Finally, a knock on the door drew her from the window. A Rider, whom she guessed to be Captain Mapstone for her red hair and hazel eyes, stepped through the doorway. She sniffed as she took in Karigan and the room, and said, “How depressing, but it would have been worse in the castle, guestroom or not.” The captain appraised Karigan without expression, her hands clasped behind her back. “You ready to talk?”
Karigan was tired of the cramped room, tired of having nothing to do but stare out the window. “Not until I see The Horse.”
The captain blinked. “The horse? What horse?”
“The—Condor.”
“I can assure you that Condor has been well cared for. Melry has taken him under her wing, herself. It’s important that we—”
“I won’t talk till I’ve seen Condor.”
Captain Mapstone raised a single brow. Without another word, she opened the door and gestured for Karigan to follow. Surprised the captain relented so easily, and a little embarrassed, Karigan stepped out into the corridor. Stone-faced Fastion blocked her way.
“Stand off, Weapon,” the captain said. “This young woman and I are just going out to have a talk and check on her horse.”
“Sorry, Captain, but I can’t sanction—”
“This is Rider business. If you feel compelled to protect the realm from a weaponless girl, then you may follow. This room has too much the feel of a cage, and she is not a prisoner.”
There was a turning down of the thin line that was Fastion’s mouth, but he didn’t argue. Rather, he followed them down the corridor at a discreet distance.
The captain leaned so her words could be heard by Karigan only. “Sometimes I’m not sure if Weapons are a natural phenomenon or not.”
Karigan chuckled, remembering what Mel said the previous night.
“We were a little concerned,” the captain said. “You didn’t awaken for some time. I even had a mender check on you.”
“What time is it?”
“Near eight in the evening.”
Karigan’s mouth dropped open. When they stepped outside, the sun was low and the grass was wet with dew. “At first I thought it was morning when I looked out the window, then I knew it must be afternoon at least. But evening?” The Wild Ride must have been more taxing than she could have known.
The captain nodded, and left the path to walk down the slope behind the barracks to the pasture. She leaned against the fence, scanning the pasture as a sea captain might the horizon.
“He’s in the far corner, if my sight isn’t failing me.”
Karigan squinted her eyes. In the deepening dusk, she made out his familiar gawky figure in the distance.
“Call him,” Captain Mapstone said.
“What?”
“Call him. He’ll come.”
Karigan cupped her hands around her mouth. “HORSE!”
He lifted his head, his ears perked forward. He cantered across the field with his tail held high, and when he reached them, Karigan slipped between the fence rails and flung her arms around his neck. He rubbed his head against her shoulder almost knocking her over.
“You crazy horse,” she said, grinning. “Mel sure shined you up.”
“Yesterday, he was nearly as gray as you,” Captain Mapstone said. “That’s why we didn’t question you sooner. We wanted to make sure you were well. But now we must talk.” At Karigan’s crestfallen look, she added, “We can talk here. You are fortunate the counselors and king are preoccupied, or they would’ve exhausted you with hours of meaningless questions.”
They sat on the top rail of the fence as Condor grazed nearby.
“You are Karigan G’ladheon,” the captain said.
“Did I tell you that?”
“No, but your father’s description was most complete, and the ring on your finger matches his.” At Karigan’s look of astonishment, she explained how she met Stevic G’ladheon in Selium, and the events that followed. “We’ve a Rider named Connly who has the ability to send messages in a most unusual way. He sends them with his thoughts.”
Before Karigan’s adventures, she would have thought the captain’s statement absurd. But not now. She hooked a strand of hair behind her ear. “He sent a message about me to other Riders?”
“Not exactly. He could send to only one other Rider. Joy Overway.”
That explained why Joy had been searching for someone in North who answered Karigan’s description. “I saw Joy . . . dead.”
“We knew, or Connly knew, exactly when she died. Joy’s talent was similar to Connly’s, only she received thought messages. They were partners, you see, who were intimately bound by their abilities even though it was those abilities that often separated them by great distances. There is no use having a sender and receiver in the same town. Despite the distances that separated them, they were closer than any couple I have ever known. I can’t tell you what it was like to experience Connly’s grief.”