PREPARATIONS
All thoughts of the masque were shoved to the back of
Karigan’s mind as plans for the expedition to Blackveil unfolded.
Captain Mapstone called her, Lynx, and Yates to her quarters
confirming Karigan’s suspicions about which Riders would be going
into Blackveil with her. Lynx, with his wilderness skills, Karigan
could understand. But Yates? Dear, lighthearted, funny Yates? He
was an excellent Rider, but to her mind it was almost like tossing
a tasty morsel to the lions.
“Do you have to look
at me like that?” he demanded.
“Like what?” she
asked, conscious of Lynx and Captain Mapstone gazing at
her.
“Like you think I
won’t survive my first step into the forest. I volunteered for this
duty.”
“You volunteered?”
“Don’t act so
shocked. We can’t have you taking all the glory after all. I came
to the captain as soon as I caught wind of the mission and offered
my services.”
Karigan glanced at
the captain whose expression was unreadable. Karigan wanted to tell
her to pick someone else, someone less ... innocent. Well, not that
Yates was innocent if all the rumors
about his conquests with the ladies were true. But there were
others, she was sure, more seasoned to the type of dangers
Blackveil presented. But who? Who would she choose? Maybe Beryl, but Beryl was off on some
mysterious errand for the king. Who else? But as she thought about
it, no one came to mind that she would want to send into Blackveil
and she could only conclude all the
Riders were dear to her. They were family, even Beryl the scary spy
and interrogator.
Now she understood
in truth the difficult choices the captain had been confronted with
and perhaps Yates’ volunteering had made the decision
easier.
But still ... Yates?
It just seemed wrong.
“You’ll need someone
to see in the dark,” Yates said. “I hear Blackveil gets very
dark.”
His special ability
was exceptional night vision and it was true it would be useful in
the forest, but it would not repel the vicious denizens of the
forest or prevent them from eating him.
“But ... but it’s
Blackveil!” she blurted. “It’s dangerous!”
“Don’t worry,” Yates
replied. “I’ll protect you.”
Karigan’s mouth
dropped open, but she could not manage a retort. It did not help
that Captain Mapstone chuckled or that even taciturn Lynx
smiled.
They quickly
returned to business. The captain gave them a list of instructions
to help her Riders prepare for departure, which was coming up
fast—next week.
When they were
dismissed, Lynx headed off on business of his own leaving Karigan
to confront Yates just outside officers quarters. She cuffed him on
the shoulder.
“Are you mad?” she
demanded. “Volunteering to go into Blackveil?”
“If so,” Yates said,
“then I am in good company.” He sauntered off whistling, leaving
her on the pathway to stew. She was torn between running after
Yates and asking him to change his mind, and returning to Captain
Mapstone’s quarters to plead with her to reconsider. She did
neither. Yates, for all his jokes and lightheartedness, was a man
full grown and entitled to make his own decisions, and confronting
Captain Mapstone might be construed as challenging her
command.
Instead she went to
the stables thinking Condor could use a good turn with a
currycomb.
Over the next couple
of days the trio of Riders appeared at the quartermaster’s to get
outfitted for their journey. Blackveil was a different kind of
environment and they would be on foot, not on horseback. They were
fitted with boots normally reserved for the infantry, and piled
down with tents, spare woolens, stockings, and oilskin
cloaks.
Lynx was
additionally presented with extra bundles of arrows, spare bow
strings, and the haft of an ax. Most Riders bore sabers and long
knives, but Lynx preferred his stout forester’s knife, longbow, and
throwing ax. He checked the balance of the new haft and pronounced
it acceptable.
Then it was off to a
briefing with General Harborough in his office in the
administrative wing of the castle, and for the first time the
Riders got a look at the others who would be accompanying them.
They were two soldiers from the army, large and muscular, and a
third man, more slight in stature, and introduced as Gillard
Ardmont, a forester of Coutre Province.
The general sat
behind his oversized desk, medals on his chest gleaming in the
lamplight and an attentive aide at his side taking
notes.
“When we enter
Blackveil,” the general said, folding beefy hands on the desk
before him, “our objective is largely one of
observation.”
“He going with us?”
Yates whispered to Karigan with a mischievous glint in his
eye.
“You have something
to say, Rider Cardell?” General Harborough asked in a booming voice
that made Yates flinch.
“N-no,
sir.”
“Good. Then listen
up. This is no holiday jaunt you’re going on.”
Maybe, Karigan thought, if
Yates heard it often enough he’d reconsider his decision to
volunteer.
“The Eletians say,”
the general continued, “that they want to see what has become of
their land since the D’Yer Wall was erected, but express nothing
further of their intentions. His Highness would like to know what
more they are after, if anything. Keep in mind the Eletians invited
us along and they have not yet shown themselves to be our enemies.”
The general looked plainly skeptical on this point but continued,
“I expect courtesy and diplomacy in dealing with them. Am I
clear?”
“YES, SIR!” the two
soldiers bellowed, almost bowling Karigan out of her
chair.
This was followed by
less emphatic affirmations from the Riders and the
forester.
This expedition,
Karigan thought, was going to be interesting.
“The king wants you
to keep your eyes open to learn anything about the forest you can,
especially if it’s something that may help us against Mornhavon the
Black when he returns. You will come back with detailed reports.
You will report directly to the king upon your return. Take note of
roads and ruins, the landscape and wildlife. I fear no maps of the
region exist so you will be following the lead of the Eletians, an
untenable situation to my mind. Therefore a vital facet of your
mission is to make some maps. Rider Cardell?”
“Er, yes?
Sir?”
“Your captain says
you’re an able cartographer. I will expect detailed
renderings.”
Yates looked
pleased, and now Karigan knew, beyond the fact he’d volunteered to
join the expedition, why Captain Mapstone agreed to let him go. And
like it or not, it was true he was a good draftsman. With all the
new Riders that had joined their ranks, Yates had busied himself
copying extra maps for them, and even instructing the Riders on how
to read them. He’d in fact been, before the Rider call, an
apprentice at his father’s press, which printed, among other
things, maps.
“Lieutenant Grant
here is also experienced at documenting and surveying. He will
assist.”
“Yes, sir!” Yates
replied.
“That’s what I
like,” the general said. “A good show of enthusiasm. Now perhaps
Sir Karigan can provide us with some insight about what we might
expect in the forest itself.”
Everyone looked at
Karigan and she looked back at them, surprised to be suddenly put
on the spot.
“You were briefly in
Blackveil, were you not?” the general asked.
“Yes, but ... but I
don’t recall much about it. It was ... it was a difficult
situation.” She was not ready to explain to the strangers in the
room that she’d been possessed at the time by the spirit of the
First Rider. And Mornhavon the Black, too.
By the way the
soldiers gazed at her she could tell her stumbling response did not
impress them one bit. The forester’s regard was different, more
intense. The general’s expression changed as he seemed to remember
the nature of her one foray into Blackveil. Surely he’d been
informed of the details. He cleared his throat.
“Then perhaps the
reports from Rider D’Yer will prove more instructive,” he said. All
of them had probably heard rumors about the forest. Since rumors
were not the most reliable source of information, the general
briefed them on the little that was truly known, relying heavily on
Alton’s reports. He explained that some of the creatures within the
forest had been magically modified by Mornhavon, changed into
monstrosities more perilous than any natural creature. Even the
plant life had grown dangerous with thorns that held poisons. The
ground they walked upon could prove unreliable, full of quagmires
and misleading paths.
“You will be using
all your skills to safely navigate the forest,” the general said.
“I do not know precisely what attributes the Eletians will be
bringing to the expedition, but I think you must assume you’ll have
to watch out for yourselves.
“Lieutenant Grant
will command. Rider Lynx is second in command. Is that
clear?”
This time Karigan
was expecting the loud confirmation from the soldiers and steeled
herself for it.
Afterward, the
general sat quietly regarding them for several moments with a
solemn expression, then said, “His Majesty is well aware of the
gravity of this mission. He is deeply confident you will succeed in
bringing back useful intelligence. He expresses his gratitude for
your service, and he salutes your courage. May the gods look out
for you on your journey. For king and country!”
The soldiers leaped
to their feet. “For king and
country!”
The general then
excused all but Lieutenant Grant and Lynx. Karigan filed out into
the corridor with the others. Without a word, the second soldier,
Private Porter, marched off to whatever duty awaited
him.
For an awkward
moment, Karigan and Yates stood there outside the general’s door
with the forester.
“This’ll be some
job, eh?” Gillard Ardmont said.
Karigan and Yates
had to agree it would.
“Friends call me
‘Ard,’ ” the forester said. “Don’t know whether it’s short for
Gillard or Ardmont, but there you are.”
They laughed and
shook hands, and Karigan and Yates formally introduced
themselves.
“You I’ve heard of,”
he told Karigan. “I know my Lord Coutre holds you in some
regard.”
“He awarded her the
Order of the Cormorant,” Yates said with pride. Karigan felt her
cheeks warm.
“Did he now. Well I
look forward to traveling with you both and learning more.” He
touched his forehead in a sort of salute and wandered
off.
“Pleasant enough
fellow,” Yates said, “but I’m surprised the general didn’t just
pick another soldier.”
“I suspect Lord
Coutre suggested him,” Karigan replied, “to ensure our future
queen’s interests are looked after.”
Yates stared at
her.
“What?” she
demanded.
“You’re getting
pretty good with the politics.”
Karigan sighed. “I
don’t know if good is the right word.”
And she and Yates struck off down the corridor toward the Rider
wing. She certainly didn’t feel any good at politics, and she did
not want anything to do with politicians, but there were going to
be times when it couldn’t be avoided, and after everything Captain
Mapstone had told her during their conversation about the
masquerade ball, it appeared it would be more difficult than ever
to steer clear of the machinations of the court.
When she was in
Blackveil she didn’t expect she’d be worrying much about politics.
No, she would have bigger problems to contend with. Politics, at
least, didn’t like to eat you.
With this cheery
thought in mind, she and Yates arrived at the Rider wing, only to
find half a dozen Weapons blocking the way like an impenetrable
wall of black.