Reshner's Royal Ranger

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Reshner's Royal Ranger Page 5

by Julie C. Gilbert


  “Why are you here?” Lucas demanded.

  “I could ask you the same,” Reia replied.

  “I killed them.” Lucas tried to keep his voice casual.

  The words clearly unsettled Reia, but her grip on the tree kept her upright. She tried to respond but barely managed a strangled noise of acknowledgement.

  “Some heartless beast carved them up and left them to die,” Lucas explained. “I ended their pain.”

  “How did you know they would die?” Reia’s soft question seemed reasonable, but her eyes remained condemning.

  “We’re not all healers. We do what we can,” said Lucas, surprised by the depths of his bitterness.

  Before Reia could respond, Prince Terosh and his cadre of guards crashed onto the scene like wild korvers. Reia fled before they could really see her.

  Lucas longed to pursue her, but instead, he braced to face a second round of questions.

  “My Prince, this is not a good idea,” hissed one of the prince’s guardians.

  “Why not?” the prince stopped to regard his soldier.

  “He just killed those two women,” argued the dark-skinned soldier.

  “We don’t know that for sure,” returned the prince. “Besides, if it is true, then we have even more reason to question him.”

  As the prince and his guards approached, instinct told Lucas to flee. He might have been able to fulfill his Alliance orders if Royal Guards didn’t surround the prince. Lucas wished his orders had been to kill. Capturing always involved much more work. He might actually need the RT Alliance team waiting for him in Huz Mon.

  So close, yet so far.

  The expected pleasantries never happened.

  The prince swaggered forward and demanded answers.

  “Who are you? What happened here? Where is the other Ranger?”

  Lucas wanted to stuff a kerlak beam through the boy’s arrogant face. With great effort, he kept his hands still to avoid a misunderstanding with the Royal Guards. They tended to shoot first when defending one of their precious royals. Not that Lucas blamed them. The royal family’s history was as turbulent as a windstorm.

  “Ranger Lucas Telon at your service, Highness,” Lucas said, realizing he hadn’t answered the questions. He bowed as custom demanded. “I came upon these unfortunates and eased them into eternity. I’m not sure where the other Ranger went. She and I have different missions.”

  “What about the screams?” asked the prince.

  “One screamed as she saw me. You heard a cry for mercy.”

  “I heard a cry of pain,” the prince retorted. His eyes searched Lucas for truth.

  “Are the two different? Could you ignore such a cry?”

  “No, I suppose not.” The prince sounded disappointed to have his suspicions fade. He fell silent for a blessed moment, but his next question almost made Lucas flinch. “What is your mission?”

  “To protect the derringers.”

  “You’re a Kireshana guardian?” The prince’s doubts were evident. When Lucas didn’t confirm or deny it, the prince tried a different question. “How do you know your mission differed from the other Ranger?”

  “Pardon?” Lucas asked.

  “You said your missions differed. How do you know?”

  “She is a healer,” Lucas explained. “I doubt the Ashatan Council would send someone like her on a mission such as mine. As you can see, the Kireshana has many dangers.” He gestured to the bodies.

  “Yes, so many predators,” said the prince.

  JIRA (MARCH) 13, 1538

  Same Day

  Kireshana Path, Calsol Forest

  As Ranger Reia Antellio laid her head down for the night, she reflected on the journey thus far. It had started out with a hundred last-minute Kireshana preparations. She recalled the dark green Melian Maiden robes, grateful to have had the opportunity to change to normal clothes once darkness fell that first day. The comfortable pants, plain shirt, and trusty travel cloak she now wore better suited her. The waterproof, acid resistant, light cloak with color that ranged between blue and black, depending on shadows, was probably her most prized possession next to her banistick and caydronan sack.

  Scenes of the last week and a half charged through her head, but it was better than thinking about her recent encounter with Lucas. The memory of the farewell with Kiata and Todd tugged at Reia. She had tried to turn it into a happy occasion by giving them a belated wedding gift. Gathering the herbs and flowers had been a labor of love, but the glass frame Reia had used to press them into a work of art nearly decimated her small stash of savings. The worry that had crossed her sister’s normally inscrutable features and her breath-taking hug made Reia think.

  Master Niklos had spent several weeks briefing her on the Kireshana mission, and Master Corida and Master Telon had added bits of wisdom. The briefings with Lucas had been awkward. She still had a hard time wrapping her mind around his new rank. Her inability to predict every danger annoyed her.

  She tried to balance the annoyance with amusement, recalling the young woman she’d spent the first hour or so jogging alongside. The pretty, dark-skinned woman had talked nonstop about Prince Terosh’s fine blue eyes.

  Great, now I’ve got to see his eyes.

  As the image of the child dressed in Melian Maiden robes came to mind, Reia wondered how the girl fared thus far. She hoped the child was still alive, but there was no guarantee. The somber thought brought her back to today’s encounter with Lucas. She had enjoyed the peaceful morning until a woman’s scream shattered the serenity. A second pained cry followed, just barely preceding a third and final scream. Reia had sailed to the scene in time to hear the high-pitched whine of kerlak pistol blasts.

  The confrontation with Lucas had been short but intense. Something bothered her, but she couldn’t quite identify it for a long time. His last statement was telling.

  “He’s jealous,” she concluded at last. Reia had long wondered why Lucas fixated on her. At first, she found his attention flattering, but she quickly realized he cared only for himself. Reia had seen love draw Kiata and Todd closer together, but the thought of becoming like Lucas made her uneasy.

  The scene replayed, and she tried recalling her impressions. Her first glimpse of Lucas standing between the bodies had been important, but she wasn’t sure why.

  The scene played yet again, and Reia focused on Lucas’s expression.

  He’s surprised, defensive, and ... guilty.

  Reia pondered where she’d come up with guilty. She studied the scene again. The tilt of Lucas’s head had indicated excitement and challenge. His right shoulder dipped down and back. That was his tell. He prided himself on controlling his facial features, but Reia had endured enough of his attention to recognize the subtle gesture.

  After another hour of tossing and turning, Reia resigned herself to not getting any sleep and entered a meditative state that sacrificed sleep for deep thinking.

  What about the dead? The thought startled her. Reia assumed Lucas would care for the bodies he had created, but she felt guilty for not thinking of them sooner. Shaking off the restful state, Reia got to her feet and gathered materials for two small fires.

  Within minutes both fires burned strongly in shallow, hand-dug pits. Staring into the flames, Reia thought about the two dead strangers. The effort seemed inadequate. She imagined how she would feel if the fires were for Kiata and Todd and real grief brought tears to her eyes.

  As the tears fell, a song came to mind, so she sang softly.

  “Here we are once again

  Singing for the dead.

  Here we are once again

  Lamenting life lost.

  May this song carry

  The dead up to rest.

  May it be that when we fall

  Someone will sing over our graves.

  May it be that when we fall

  Someone will carry us on wings

  Made of sweet songs.

  Then life will go on.”

&nb
sp; She sang the song twice through, once for each life lost, before solemnly burying the flames.

  Chapter 9:

  Reckless Pace

  JIRA (MARCH) 20, 1538-Jira (March) 21, 1538

  Nineteen-twenty days into Prince Terosh’s Kireshana journey

  Kireshana Path, Western Edge of the Calsol Forest

  You can’t bring those women back.

  Terosh tried to shake off the images, but they wouldn’t leave him alone. Ahead, he saw open land beyond the endless cal trees. A line of silver hovs waited for them.

  “Why are those here?” Terosh demanded.

  “They offer a swift way across the Riden Flats, Highness,” Lieutenant Ectosh Laocer replied.

  “I can’t take those!” Terosh protested. “Everyone else rides horses. I will, too.”

  “Your royal brother took this route, High—”

  “Lose the honorifics. It’s getting on my nerves.” A lifetime had been quite enough.

  Tate’s choice was his own. I should be like everyone else.

  Terosh sighed.

  Yes, like everyone else with Royal Guards watching over him. I’ll never prove myself if I don’t escape.

  “Yes, sir.” Laocer’s voice contained the crisp snap of a salute. “His Majesty the king thought it best if you started your trip through the Riden Mountains before the next acid storms.”

  “Before the next—” Terosh cut himself off to avoid an unsightly scene, like him throttling Laocer.

  That’s two months away! I’d need to crawl to take that long!

  “We’re going to Calsola and taking horses.” Terosh infused his voice with command. “I like riding, and I want to see some of the land.” Though not palace-bound, Terosh had visited little of Reshner. The Kireshana provided the first real chance—perhaps his only one—to truly walk among the people.

  After sending the hovs away, the group covered the kilometers to Calsola in silence. Terosh settled the account to rent horses and suppressed a laugh at the owner’s expression at seeing close to a thousand kefs counted out. Since greed rolled off the man in waves, Terosh drew him aside and bought some tamitin powder at a hefty price while his men saddled the horses.

  Soon, Terosh and his six escorts started across the Riden Flats. Having traveled the path many times, the horses knew how to avoid graveground. Terosh thought little about how they knew but trusted the horses’ instincts for avoiding places where the ground would collapse. The pits formed could be anywhere from a few centimeters to several meters across.

  The rushing wind thrilled Terosh almost as much as the sight of endless golden fields. He wanted to enjoy the sweet scent of clean air for as long as possible, and he couldn’t bring himself to enact his plan just yet. So, he pressed the group on well into the night.

  When they finally stopped, Terosh decided to keep the guards for another night. The soldiers fed and watered the horses while Terosh and Laocer started a fire and cooked a hot meal. As stacks of fluffy flatcakes appeared, Terosh opened a small jar of rielberry jam to share.

  The Guards cheered at the sight of the treat and devoured the pleasant meal.

  The evening went well until the soldiers arranged their bedrolls around Terosh, killing his sense of freedom. The day had been long, but he was too sore to sleep right away.

  Dillain, the youngest guard, took first watch and, with a little prompting, sang a sad song in his rich tenor voice.

  “Where’d you learn to sing?” Terosh asked.

  “Chamberlain’s Boys Choir,” Dillain mumbled.

  Two moons, Gemuln and Corid, shone down brightly enough to highlight Dillain’s red cheeks. The third moon, Marishaz, denied the night her presence.

  “Do you ever miss those days?” Terosh asked, before the other soldiers could tease Dillain.

  “Nah.” Dillain’s expression contradicted his dismissive tone.

  Terosh dropped the point, figuring he should let sleep catch him. He shifted on his bedroll and moaned.

  “It’ll be worse in the morning,” Laocer promised.

  Terosh answered with a grunt, rolled over, and bit back a curse as muscles he hardly knew existed announced their presence with pain.

  Next morning, he awoke grumpier than a cawalla with a knotted tail. Too sore to feel guilty, Terosh barked orders at the men. He’d ridden horses through the palace gardens countless times, often racing Tate, but the horses bred for crossing the Riden Flats were hardly the well-mannered beasts from the royal stables. Halfway through mounting, the horse reared as a snake shot toward its front right leg. Terosh’s shout disappeared beneath the clamor of his men trying to kill the creature. Finally, Laocer fired his serlak pistol twice into the snake’s head.

  Terosh leapt to his feet, more angry than hurt. His right ankle ached. Speaking softly to the skittish horse, he silently cursed the snake. Closer examination showed that the creature was a maritech viper, one of Reshner’s deadliest snakes.

  “Can we keep it?” Dillain asked.

  “Why in Riden’s name would we do that?” Terosh demanded.

  “Good meat.”

  Terosh nodded curtly.

  “You want it. You carry it.”

  Dillain sliced the snake’s head off with a kerlinblade to seal the blood inside and draped the body across his shoulders.

  Though they didn’t press the horses as hard as the previous day, the Riden Flats flew past anyway. Terosh admired the beautiful seas of grain stretching in every direction. Wheat, krinton, corn, sanda, and barley grew side-by-side. Where one field ended, the next began. Occasionally, a huge field of flowers shattered the monotony of beige and brown. Deeply purple iras dominated, but red porlas, green neralas, orange and yellow copalas, and white sholcas held their own. Terosh had seen each flower and many more in the palace gardens but never in such wild openness. The wind shifted carrying the sweet, tangy scent of iras and the heady scent of porlas over his senses.

  I could get used to this.

  Terosh waved to a farmer who shouted for them to stop and rest.

  If we stop for every farmer, we’ll never get through.

  “Perhaps we should stop a moment,” Laocer suggested.

  “We’ve lost ground already,” Terosh said, pressing his horse forward at a quicker pace.

  A nameless urgency drove him on.

  By the time they halted for the evening, Terosh didn’t care what Dillain cooked and was pleasantly surprised by the tender snake meat roasted over an open fire. Cold spring water and sliced appolas cooked in water seasoned with mintas sprigs completed the simple meal.

  JIRA (MARCH) 20, 1538-Jira (March) 21, 1538

  Same Days and Beyond

  Kireshana Path, Western Edge of the Calsol Forest

  Reia’s heart nearly stopped when she saw the silver hovs speed away. Some Rangers used hovs, but she never expected to be close enough to feel their vibrations. Spotting the prince just ahead, she breathed normally again.

  No one had considered the possibility of Prince Terosh taking hovs to the Riden Mountains. Most reports predicted he would take the harder road wherever possible. Reia silently thanked the scouts for being right thus far.

  They’ll probably take horses. What will I do?

  Having no answer, Reia simply followed the prince’s group. Though grateful nothing unusual had happened in the last week, she knew something could go wrong any time. She also felt someone watching her.

  Coridian Assassin? Lucas?

  It seemed like something he would do, and public announcements notwithstanding, Reia trusted Master Niklos’s warning that Coridian Assassins would train during the Kireshana. She quietly repeated her master’s advice for comfort.

  “‘Prove yourself competent, and they’ll leave you alone.’”

  Forced to wait while the prince dealt with the horse master, Reia pondered her new predicament. She lacked sufficient funds to rent a horse. She could always rent one now and pay the debt in the Salt Mines later, but that would still force her to aban
don her charge for far too long. Even Master Niklos’s calming techniques failed to subdue her restless energy. The collection of herbs in her caydronan sack would cover the debt in terms of worth, but they were worse than useless in the hands of untrained people. Too much cormea would paralyze a person instead of deadening pain. Too little astera would make Kemloth Fever worse.

  Five minutes after the prince left, Reia stepped into the horse master’s office. The outside hadn’t been very impressive, and the inside looked like windstorm wreckage. Saddles, blankets, bridles, and bits hung haphazardly on hooks jutting from weather-beaten walls and lay about on every flat surface. A half-eaten appola rotted on a rickety wooden desk, adding a sickeningly sweet scent to the air.

  Behind the desk, a fat man counted an impressive pile of kefs.

  “Can I help you?” The horse master’s voice quivered with excitement. He rose, swept the kefs out of sight into a metal box, and trundled out from behind the desk.

  Reia took the man in as he approached.

  Greedy, unscrupulous, dangerous.

  “I hope so. How much would it cost to rent a horse?” Reia forced her lips into a tentative smile. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she gestured at the nearest bridle with her left hand and kept her right near her banistick.

  “Too much. You don’t look like you have a single kef to your name.”

  Reia assumed the man knew enough to associate her attire with the Rangers. The brown trousers and beige shirt fit her well, and her travel cloak gracefully draped her shoulders.

  The man’s eyes wandered her body.

  My sister would probably punch you right about now.

  Reia’s smile brightened, and she was unaware how appealing the expression made her.

  The man grinned and reached for her arm.

  “But you look like a resourceful woman. We can discuss other means of payment if you wish.”

  Reacting instinctively, Reia wrenched her arm away, whirled, and fled.

  Kiata would fight him.

  “Kiata’s not here!” Reia loved her older sister dearly but hated the constant comparisons. Despite growing up together, they had always walked their own paths. Kiata was a fighter, and Reia was a thinker. Some said that the distinctions proved they had different parents, but Reia had never much cared that they didn’t share blood. They were sisters bound by fate and love.

 

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