A Ride in the Moonlight
H e came before her on his knee and extended to her an object she had never expected to see again.
“Don’t you kneel,” she told him. “And tell me how you found my staff. I thought it lost forever.”
He stood in one fluid movement and passed it to her, but he did not meet her gaze. “It is only proper that we pay obeisance.”
She wanted to yell at him that it wasn’t, that it was all upside down.
She was no more worthy or royal, Eletian or otherwise, than a rock.
Instead, she quietly replied, “But we are friends.” She weighed the staff in her hands.
The black lacquered wood was in perfect condition and felt so good to have in her possession once more. “We went through much together.”
He peered cautiously at her. “Are we friends? I thought, I mean, after our parting when you saw how I was...”
“The accendu’melos,” she said.
He gazed down at his feet again. “Yes.”
She touched his arm and he flinched. She withdrew her hand, a little stung by his reaction, but she thought she understood.
“I am ashamed by that day,” he said. “I would have hurt you. Not because I wished to, but it is the Eletian nature at the time of...maturation.”
“But you did not hurt me because you are strong.” She thought back to the wild passion that had overcome his usual serene and amicable self. “You resisted and gave me time to flee. There is no shame in that.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, “though I wish you had not seen me thus.”
“It was not you , but your Eletian nature.”
He bowed his head. “Yes, Dama.” He started to back away.
“Wait.”
He halted.
The other Eletians kept their distance, but seemed to watch with interest.
“My staff. How did you come upon it?”
“I found it along the road you call Kingway.”
What had he been doing on the Kingway? Eletian vision was sharp, but he just happened to find it?
“Dama,” Telagioth said, stepping forward, “it grows late. We will escort you to the city using the ways.”
She glanced toward Enver, but he had already moved off. Well, she’d get to the bottom of how he found her staff sooner or later.
“Very well,” she told Telagioth.
They stepped away from the road and walked into the woods, leaving behind the shrine of Goltera.
Only a few paces into the moonlit wood, they passed one of the ancient standing stones Telagioth and the priest had discussed.
It was at least twice her height and quite broad.
Mute and shadowed it stood, a sentinel of another time.
“There is still some small power around the altar and this stone,” Telagioth said, “but like so much, it has waned over the millennia.”
Karigan lifted her skirts to step over a moldering log. “Magic, you mean.”
“Not so much magic as an energy of spirit,” he replied. “The belief of many poured into it. The calendar stones marked high holy days filled with ritual and celebration, and thus were sacred to the people.”
As they walked, she noted that Enver fell toward the rear of the group while she remained up front with Telagioth. Perhaps it was better this way, but she hoped they would somehow overcome their awkwardness.
Walking soon became easier, level with few rocks and roots to stumble over, and cushioning moss underfoot.
Moonlight pooled on the ground as if to guide them.
They’d no need of muna’riel to lighten the dark.
She suspected they were already traveling on one of the Eletian “ways,” what Enver had once described as “Eletian paths that know my kind.” He had been their guide, and with his assistance and the use of her special ability, she could see it, but when she had tried to follow the ways from the north in the spring, she couldn’t seem to keep the trail in her mind’s eye and got lost in the wild woods. She’d ended up bushwhacking for days.
She also had a feeling the ways were not permanent paths; maybe they even existed in another layer of the world, but they eased travel and seemed to shorten distance.
Still, it was going to be a long walk in her silly city shoes.
She could already feel blisters forming on her heels.
And she was famished. Her stomach made a pronounced gurgle and Telagioth halted. Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment.
“Many pardons, Dama,” Telagioth said. “You were taken from your city involuntarily only to come face to face with a dark one, and we’ve provided you with little succor. We will amend this oversight while we await the arrival of the terrial’ada.”
“The terrial’ada are coming?” They were a breed of horse that apparently agreed to carry Eletians at times.
“Yes,” Telagioth replied. “Even upon the ways it is still a long walk, and you are not prepared for it. One of the terrial’ada will bear you and you will reach your castle swiftly. In the meantime, you may rest and have to eat and drink anything we’ve to offer.”
There were some benefits to being the “Dama,” after all.
They spread a blanket on the ground for her to sit on, and she accepted a skin of cool, pure water to slake her thirst, and sweet oat cakes, mild cheese, and an apple that tasted like honey.
Some of the others sang, their beautiful voices almost as natural to the night woods as that of owls, wolves, and the breeze tousling tree branches.
She began to doze off with her belly content and the soothing tones of the song relaxing her.
The turmoil of her clan’s delicate position, the attempt by the Turvals to take her away and force her to marry, and her frightening confrontation with the wraith all drifted away, and she rested in serenity.
As the singing concluded, she opened her eyes, still feeling peaceful and quite revived. Only a few of the Eletians were visible, quietly talking among themselves. Enver was not among them.
“What was the song?” Karigan asked Telagioth, who sat nearby.
“A simple song of the night,” he replied, “calling down the light of the moon and stars, and expressing joy in the life and beauty of the dark.”
She smiled. It all sounded so very Eletian.
Telagioth cocked his head. “Ah, the terrial’ada have arrived.”
Four horses soundlessly trotted into the clearing. Their gleaming silver-white hides flickered as they passed through the long shadows of tree limbs cast by the moon.
“Can you ride bareback, Dama?”
She was not exactly dressed for it, but it was better than walking to Sacor City, Eletian ways or no. “I can, but no bridles?”
“Not needed,” Telagioth replied, “with the terrial’ada.”
Karigan recalled the one Enver had ridden on their journey north. It had worn a bridle, but it hadn’t a bit.
“Riverrain has agreed to allow you to ride him,” Telagioth said, and he helped her mount the sleek stallion. “You need not be aggressive with your cues. He knows where we are going and will do nothing that would cause you to fall. You have but to enjoy the ride.”
“I believe I certainly will.” She ran her hand over Riverrain’s silken, muscular neck. He blew softly through his nose as if pleased by her words.
She’d had to hike up her skirts to mount, but fortunately they had enough drape that they flowed over her knees and behind her on his back as she sat astride.
When she’d prepared for her appointment with the guild masters earlier in the day, she’d had no idea she’d be riding so magical a steed in the moonlight with Eletians.
She, Telagioth, Lhean, and Shoshan set off.
She barely touched Riverrain’s sides with her legs than he moved out.
They traveled at a leisurely canter along an easy path that Karigan knew she’d never find on her own.
Riding Riverrain was one of the most comfortable riding experiences she’d ever had, even bareback.
The close contact between them allowed her to feel his warmth, energy, and power, the liveliness of muscle and stride.
Lhean rode beside her, and she asked, “Where do the terrial’ada come from?”
“Their range brushes against Eletia’s borders to the west,” he replied.
The Wanda Plains, north of where Green Rider horses came from.
She thought to pepper him with questions about the horses, like why their existence did not seem to be known outside Eletia, but she decided to follow Telagioth’s advice and enjoy the ride.
Soon enough they would reach the castle and she’d find out what the Eletians wanted, because they always wanted something when they came to Sacor City, and it always led to unpleasant adventures for her.