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Authors: Patrice Sarath
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flagstones below.
A derisive snort made her look down. At the foot of the stairs was old Torvan.
“Be a shame if you broke your neck, strangeling. You should be more careful.”
And you should be less of a jerk, she wanted to say but didn’t, knowing that it would only make things worse. He would carry tales to Lady Beatra, who had too much on her plate already.
“If you find Yare, tell him his mother is looking for him,” she said as she pushed past the stumpy old man. She didn’t wait for his reply.
Yare was not at the stables. Twilight was falling , and the air took on a chill. The household had gone from exasperated to worried. Maksin sent out men at arms as search parties, and Stelpin was dispatched to the village on one of the cart horses, his skinny form stuck to the wide back of the draft horse like a jockey on a thoroughbred. Kate helped Drabian and the other grooms tack up the saddle horses for searchers.
“That mare’s no good,” Drabian objected when he saw her saddle up Allegra again. “Too light-boned for cross country travel. She’ll break down and that will be two people missing.”
“I’ll ride her,” Kate said, throwing the saddle on the mare’s back. “I ride light.”
He made no more protest, just turned to mount up the rest of the searchers. Aevin was already in his saddle, leading a search party of his own.
Kate mounted and gathered the reins. No one waited for her. No one said, “Come with us.” The freedom she had longed for was hers, and perversely, now her feelings were hurt. She looked over at Lady Beatra who watching from the courtyard, hugging her elbows, her fear and helplessness emanating from her. Kate’s hurt pride evaporated.
Oh Yare. You better be hurt, buddy. Because if you are just goofing off, you’re in big trouble.
The road was a blur in the deepening evening . Kate kept Allegra to a steady trot, rising and falling in the saddle with every step. The stars were coming out, and the air had gone from crisp to chill. She could see clusters of torchlight where the search parties made their way across the fields. In the distance, Terrick House blocked out the sky.
It got dark in the country. There was no light spill from distant cities, no glow from civilization. Just insects sawing away in the late summer night, and pale starlight overhead.
“Where are you, Yare?” she said out loud. Allegra snorted. The air flowed wet and cool across her face, stinging a little with cold, and she shivered. A whisper of wind in the grasses reminded her of that afternoon. She had sensed something at the turnoff toward the river. And now Yare was missing.
This is Aeritan and you are weaponless . Well, so was Yare, and he was a little kid to boot. If whatever had spooked her had gotten him, he was in worse shape than she was, and it was too late now to go back for help. Kate turned Allegra toward the river.
The path down to the river was a pale meander ing track through the underbrush. Kate held the horse to a walk and the mare picked daintily toward the falls, her footfall almost silent on the loamy soil. The sound of rushing water filled her ears.
When she saw firelight she thought at first her eyes were playing tricks. Kate halted, peering through the forest, her night vision shot almost at once. She started to call out, and cut the sound before it made its way past her lips. She kicked her feet out of the stirrups and dismounted quietly. She left Allegra in the woods and crept forward.
The fire was small but crackling industriously by the side of the falls. Four men–no, five. And–Kate crouched and peered through wide leaves. A trussed up bundle. A sniveling, trussed-up bundle.
“Shut up, brat,” one of the men growled, giving the bundle a kick.
Kate’s heart sank. Oh Yare.
Allegra snuffled and sidestepped. One of the men looked back in her direction.
“What was that?”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“I’m going to look.”
Kate was
A derisive snort made her look down. At the foot of the stairs was old Torvan.
“Be a shame if you broke your neck, strangeling. You should be more careful.”
And you should be less of a jerk, she wanted to say but didn’t, knowing that it would only make things worse. He would carry tales to Lady Beatra, who had too much on her plate already.
“If you find Yare, tell him his mother is looking for him,” she said as she pushed past the stumpy old man. She didn’t wait for his reply.
Yare was not at the stables. Twilight was falling , and the air took on a chill. The household had gone from exasperated to worried. Maksin sent out men at arms as search parties, and Stelpin was dispatched to the village on one of the cart horses, his skinny form stuck to the wide back of the draft horse like a jockey on a thoroughbred. Kate helped Drabian and the other grooms tack up the saddle horses for searchers.
“That mare’s no good,” Drabian objected when he saw her saddle up Allegra again. “Too light-boned for cross country travel. She’ll break down and that will be two people missing.”
“I’ll ride her,” Kate said, throwing the saddle on the mare’s back. “I ride light.”
He made no more protest, just turned to mount up the rest of the searchers. Aevin was already in his saddle, leading a search party of his own.
Kate mounted and gathered the reins. No one waited for her. No one said, “Come with us.” The freedom she had longed for was hers, and perversely, now her feelings were hurt. She looked over at Lady Beatra who watching from the courtyard, hugging her elbows, her fear and helplessness emanating from her. Kate’s hurt pride evaporated.
Oh Yare. You better be hurt, buddy. Because if you are just goofing off, you’re in big trouble.
The road was a blur in the deepening evening . Kate kept Allegra to a steady trot, rising and falling in the saddle with every step. The stars were coming out, and the air had gone from crisp to chill. She could see clusters of torchlight where the search parties made their way across the fields. In the distance, Terrick House blocked out the sky.
It got dark in the country. There was no light spill from distant cities, no glow from civilization. Just insects sawing away in the late summer night, and pale starlight overhead.
“Where are you, Yare?” she said out loud. Allegra snorted. The air flowed wet and cool across her face, stinging a little with cold, and she shivered. A whisper of wind in the grasses reminded her of that afternoon. She had sensed something at the turnoff toward the river. And now Yare was missing.
This is Aeritan and you are weaponless . Well, so was Yare, and he was a little kid to boot. If whatever had spooked her had gotten him, he was in worse shape than she was, and it was too late now to go back for help. Kate turned Allegra toward the river.
The path down to the river was a pale meander ing track through the underbrush. Kate held the horse to a walk and the mare picked daintily toward the falls, her footfall almost silent on the loamy soil. The sound of rushing water filled her ears.
When she saw firelight she thought at first her eyes were playing tricks. Kate halted, peering through the forest, her night vision shot almost at once. She started to call out, and cut the sound before it made its way past her lips. She kicked her feet out of the stirrups and dismounted quietly. She left Allegra in the woods and crept forward.
The fire was small but crackling industriously by the side of the falls. Four men–no, five. And–Kate crouched and peered through wide leaves. A trussed up bundle. A sniveling, trussed-up bundle.
“Shut up, brat,” one of the men growled, giving the bundle a kick.
Kate’s heart sank. Oh Yare.
Allegra snuffled and sidestepped. One of the men looked back in her direction.
“What was that?”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“I’m going to look.”
Kate was
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