“How are you enjoying our ride, tante?”
“Oh, it is quite… that is, very… I… do you think we shall be going awfully much further?”
“You seemed worried back there.” She shouldn’t tease Detta, but sometimes it was too tempting.
“We sit far from the ground.”
The direction Talysse had chosen ended in water and reeds. “We’ll turn around here,” Talysse said. “Tachette is very tall, isn’t he? He’s every sort of wonderful, don’t you think?”
Detta took a deep breath. “He is certainly a wonder, I must admit that. But I must also admit I am every sort of frightened.”
“Truly?” Talysse looked at Detta. “But you mustn’t be. He’s quite calm—you heard Guarin and Ceranne both say he is, and he’s never once tried to bolt.”
“Bolt…” The word came from Detta in a gasp.
“Not once,” Talysse said. “He’s the best animal I have ever known in my whole life, and I’m sure he likes me.” She looked with concern at the gnome. “But if you are frightened, you might ride with Guarin, who is a far better horseman than I. Or Ceranne. Or any of them, really.”
“Never. I ride with you.” Detta stamped mid-stride for emphasis, then added, “Unless you do not wish me to ride with you.”
“Nonsense. Of course I want you to ride with me.”
“I’ll try not to squeak.”
“Did you squeak? I hadn’t noticed.” Talysse smiled.
They stopped every hour. By the third stop, Talysse was glad of it, and was glad of help getting down. Her walk during the rest was slower, and she hoped the rest would last just a little longer. By the end of the day, her rear end hurt so much she lay face down to go to sleep. The next morning, she was certain she might never walk again.
The gardiens were kind. They advised her to bathe in a nearby freshwater stream, and Ceranne massaged her back and legs. They gave her extra time before starting and took longer breaks along the way. They all told her this was expected and she was not to be ashamed, but they also pressed on. To her surprise, Detta suffered no aching muscles, though she did say her rear end hurt as well. Talysse thought this was unfair, then thought it was unfair of her to think it.
By late in that day, Talysse did not want to ever see a horse again, much less ride one, but she climbed back on Tachette after each stop and did not complain. If Detta did not complain, she certainly was not going to. Just when she thought she might fall off the horse just to gain a respite, Donat called out that he saw riders.
“Four men,” he reported, “all armed. They look like northerners.”
Guarin came close to Tachette and spoke in a quick, low voice. “I thought this might happen,” he said, “as we got close to Arles. I have a plan for it.”
Two other gardiens, one of whom Talysse recognized as Yngezo, rode up. Guarin nodded to them.
“Go with these two and hide in the herd. You will be safe there. These Franks will not venture among the cattle.”
“Hide among cows?” Detta said, her voice squeaking.
“Our cattle will not harm you, little one. Yngezo and Carbo are gardiens. They will keep the herd quiet.”
“We will do as you say,” Talysse said, trying to sound brave.
The white horses rode at a canter across an expanse of grass-covered sand, straight for the herd. At the edge, Carbo stopped and they dismounted.
“Hold hands,” he told them, “and follow me.”
Detta took hold of Talysse’s hand, her six fingers intertwining with the human’s five. Talysse looked back, but could hardly see over the backs of the cattle. The cattle of the gardiens were all black, nearly as tall at the shoulders as Talysse. The bulls had white horns that curved forward to rather nasty-looking sharp points. Carbo threaded his way to the center of the herd.
“Crouch down, ma’amselle,” he said. “Onto one knee might be more comfortable. Do not stand up until I come for you again.”
Talysse looked over the backs of the cattle, scanning for sign of the riders.
“Do not be afraid. The cattle will not hurt you.”
Talysse sniffed. “I’m not afraid of cows.” She knelt as if to prove it.
Detta, who did not need to crouch, whispered, “But I am. A little.”
Carbo left. The cows mostly ignored them, being rather more interested in the fresh spring grass. One bumped Talysse as it turned, but for the most part they left a little space around the two women. Even so, Detta stayed close to Talysse and did not let go of her hand.
Then they heard voices.
“Hela, strangers.” It was Carbo’s voice. “Are you lost?”
Another voice spoke. Talysse thought it might be one of the guards who had chased her, but could not be sure. “We are looking for someone,” the voice said.
“You would do well to speak with Guarin.”
“I have,” the man said. He sounded impatient. “I am speaking to you now.”
“This is so.”
“I look for a young girl. You will know her by her silver hair, like metal.”
Detta reached up and patted the hat more firmly onto Talysse’s head. Talysse frowned at her.
“Silver hair? An elf, then. I shall watch for such a girl.”
“There is a reward. A gold florin.”
The cattle shifted and a bull moved nearer, as if to examine these additions to his herd. His white horns were each as long as an arm.
“Who offers this reward?” Carbo asked.
“My lord.”
A wave of cold water ran through Talysse, as if the ocean had just washed across her belly. She balled her fists and tried to control her breathing. Detta leaned into her.
The bull moved closer and stopped just in front of the women. He lowered his head until he was nose to nose with Talysse. His horns extended on either side of Talysse’s head. His eyes, deep brown and big as spoons, stared unblinking. His huge nose flared. He smelled of earth and flesh.
Detta’s eyes became perfectly round and she clasped both hands carefully over her mouth.
Talysse knew she was trembling, but she did not feel afraid. A part of her was calmly curious, fascinated by this great beast. The creature stood before her, as if some enormous black boulder had risen up from the earth itself, woken, and breathed. She stood within his world, and he walked through it, placid and commanding. The gardiens might believe they were the masters, but down here at eye-level, among shoulders and legs and horns, this animal reigned king. For the briefest moment she could feel herself a part of his realm. Distantly she knew her heart was racing.
“Your lord,” Yngezo said. “And who is that?”
“The offer is made by the king himself,” said the first man.
“Which one?”
“You watch how you wag your tongue, swamper, or I’ll trim it for you.”
“I ask because there are many kings.” Yngezo’s voice was nothing but humble courtesy.
There was a long silence. The bull stared at her. He had his strength, his sharp, white horns. She felt herself suspended before him like a gull above the surf. The bull snorted once and turned away.
“Gah,” the man said, “we waste our time with these cow tenders. All the while, the girl gets further away.”
Talysse listened to the sound of departing horses. Some minutes passed before Carbo came threading his way through the cattle.
“They are gone,” he said. He held out his hand to Talysse and helped her up.
Jollins and Guarin brought Tachette, after waiting for the men to disappear in the distance. Talysse made a point of climbing up on her own.
As she did so, she asked, “Do you think he saw us?”
“I do not know,” Carbo said. He sniffed in disdain. “But I do not care for his manner.”
“I do not care for his face,” Yngezo said. “I am thinking I should like a chance to fix it.”
The two men chuckled.
“Do you not find our cattle most friendly?” asked Carb
o once Detta was also in place.
Talysse assured him that she did. The encounter had left her exhilarated, and the visit of the bull had awakened her to a wider world in which strange forces strode across a new landscape.
As they rode, Talysse said to Detta, “Wasn’t the bull marvelous?”
“No! He was big and scary and dangerous. I don’t call that marvelous at all.”
“Oh, tante. He was magnificent.”
“For you, perhaps. These things are different for you.”
“Keep that scarf on your head, ma’amselle,” Carbo said. “We may be watched, and it is some distance yet to Arles.”
The warning dampened her spirits, but only for a little while.
Guarin moved the herd further away from the road after that. To Talysse he appeared to wander aimlessly, but Yngezo assured her the man knew every inch of the land. They came to a stretch of wide water and there they finally turned north again. The waterway stretched into the distance.
“What is that?” Talysse asked. “Is it a lake?”
Yngezo laughed, then caught himself. “Your pardon, ma’amselle,” he said, still stifling his humor. “That is not a lake but is the river Rhône.”
Talysse mouthed “oh” and felt her cheeks flush. She had never seen a real river before. She knew what one ought to look like, or thought she did, but the blue, still water seemed little short of miraculous. This was the Rhône, which fed all of Arelat, and more besides. She was not entirely sure how far it stretched. Perhaps all the way to Angleland.
“It is very beautiful.”
“That it is,” the gardien agreed. “Nor do you see her at her best. Sunset turns the whole river to gold.”
She paid little attention, for she was sure he was only teasing her now. Besides, she was enchanted by a line of white birds that glided along the water near the shore. They appeared to move without any effort at all.
“Swans,” Detta said, leaning closer. “I saw one once, with my da.”
“Swans,” Talysse repeated. They were the loveliest birds she had ever seen. Far more lovely than flamingos, and far more graceful. Their white forms reminded her of white sails at sea, shining against the blue water. But here on the Rhône was added a third color, the lush green of oak and cypress, their arms reaching right down into the river.
The setting sun may have turned the river to gold, but Guarin had moved further away from it, following a line of low hills. After another hour, Guarin called a halt for the day.
“We are still a few hours from Arles,” he said to Talysse when he came to check on her. She was walking Tachette, her legs stiff and aching, but she tried not to show it. “I do not want to make our entry at the end of the day,” he added, as if this explained something.
“What did he mean?” she asked Donat, later.
“We bring the bull to the ring,” Donat said. “A bull is dangerous in the city, so we must escort it to the arena. If we do this late in the day, few will attend us, but do it when the sun is high and we will have crowds.”
“You just said it’s dangerous,” Talysse said.
“It might be with others,” Donat said. “We are gardiens. We know how to bring a bull to the ring.”
“Maybe Guarin will let you watch,” Jollins said kindly. “It is a noble sight.”
Talysse said she hoped so, but she was unsure what sort of sight that might be. In any case, she was thinking more and more about going to see the king. Would he be at the arena? She did not want to ask. She had made herself look foolish enough for now. Instead, she decided to go for a walk. Her legs were still not entirely used to riding. Detta trailed after, but kept quiet.
Despite there being farms aplenty, there were also empty places—meadows, glades of sycamore or alder, wide fields of sunflowers, and innumerable ponds and small lakes connected by lazy, winding streams. The sun touched the horizon. As if this were a signal, insects rose up in black clouds. In places they were so thick they drove her back, making her change direction. She didn’t mind; she wasn’t heading anywhere in particular.
Soon after the rise of the insects, frogs made themselves known. First these were few and scattered, seeming to call to one another. Within minutes, thousands of them sounded, blending into a steady roar, barely modulated, as if the sound were made by a single, subterranean beast. Pelicans swept lazily by, choosing their supper at leisure. The sky deepened from rose to red to violet, and she returned to the camp.
Talysse smiled. That so much familiar should feel so new, it was as if she were hearing an old song with new ears. As the last color drained from the sky, stars shone forth as scattered gems. No moon would rise until later. The only light now came from the single campfire around which were gathered the gardiens, one gnome, and herself. The fire danced, lighting their faces and outstretched hands. The horses stood nearby, eating noisily. Further in the distance, the cattle held a quiet conversation. Someone brought forth a rabbit and two partridges—when had they had time to hunt? Her stomach growled in appreciation.
She felt as if she were in a kind of cenobite cell, a magical room of orange and yellow and shadow, guarded by strong wards, with diamonds in the roof. Thus had these people lived for a thousand years, and now she was among them.
“It could be a place,” she said aloud, softly.
“What did you say, Lyssie?” Detta asked.
“Nothing much,” Talysse replied. “I was just thinking.”
“Oh.”
This could be a place where she might go, after she had found her parents. She could live among the gardiens with their white horses and their black cattle and their tridents and hats.
It could be a place.
Later, as the crescent moon rose and the frogs were silent at last, Talysse slipped easily into a familiar dream. In this dream, she found her mother, whom she resembled to a remarkable degree, living in a grand castle on a lovely, tree-covered mountain. Her mother had married and had fair children, but her husband had perished in foreign wars. Talysse played with her siblings in beautiful gardens and everyone loved each other very much.
Detta was there, too.
Then came the other dream. There, she had found her father, whom she resembled to a remarkable degree. He was a brave chevalier, of immense fame and fine humility. Together they embarked on astonishing adventures, with their squire Detta beside them. They fought against the Troll Empire, retrieved lost treasures from a kobold king, and even slew dragons. Both dreams stirred her spirit, even as they saddened her heart.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Arles
The city appeared first as a distant island in a green sea, with its walls as the shoreline and angular roofs rising up like mountain tops. Between them lay farms, their fields springtime green, dotted with low, neat houses and outbuildings too small for human habitation.
Talysse and Detta rode on Tachette, the gnome clinging tightly behind the girl.
“How are we to find the king?” Detta asked.
“He is at the royal palace,” Talysse said. “That’s where kings live.”
“Oh,” Detta said. “I never knew.”
“Well, they do. They live in perfectly enormous houses with a hundred rooms and ten hundred servants and retainers and knights.” She added, after a moment, “And all their families too, I should think.”
“Ayi,” Detta said. “I would get lost in such a place.”
“Well, we shan’t, for I don’t plan to go wandering around. I shall go straight to the king.”
“Might he not be busy?”
“Honestly, tante, I wonder if you are trying to annoy me.”
“Never,” Detta said, “only…”
“Only what?”
“If the king will not see you, what then?”
“Of course he will see me. He must.”
“But if he will not?” Detta pressed.
Talysse heaved a dramatic sigh. “Then I shall throw it all over and drown myself in that river.”
“Oh.”
Detta patted Talysse on the back. “I would rescue you.”
“I will keep looking until I’ve found them.”
“Oh,” Detta said again. “I had thought perhaps we might go home, if the king will not see us.”
Talysse twisted in the saddle, which creaked loudly. “My dear, sweet gnome. They are my parents. How could I not keep looking? How could I just give up?”
“You could not,” Detta said, and there was a weight upon her words.
“Don’t you see? I’ve left Saldemer. I don’t have a home now. The only thing for me is to go forward, to find a new one.”
Detta shepherded a smile onto her face. “I do see,” she said, “and I shall be with you to find it.”
“Good,” Talysse said. Then she whispered to herself, “Soon, I hope.”
Guarin brought the herd to a corral, where he made quick arrangements with the hetman there. They seemed to know one another. The drovers cut the bull from the herd. They arranged their horses around the animal to keep him from wandering. Guarin then approached Talysse.
“We enter the city,” he said. “Madame gnome cannot ride with us now.”
Detta squeaked a protest.
“My apologies,” the gardien said, but you cannot ride a horse alone.”
“I wouldn’t want to!”
“If you ride in back of Mlle Talysse, the whole city will know of it, for no gardienne rides so.”
“How shall I stay with my compagnon?” Detta asked. She sat up straight, as if before a tribunal.
“We have a plan. Madame goes to the east gate with Donat.”
The young man appeared at the mention of his name. Talysse smothered laughter with her hand.
“Oh, go ahead and laugh, please,” Donat said, his blue eyes twinkling. He was dressed as a farm boy, with worn sandals, a patched tunic, and a straw hat whose brim flopped down nearly to his shoulders. “I look ridiculous.”
“You look very convincing,” Talysse said from behind her hand.
Donat helped Detta to the ground.
“Once through the gate, madame, Donat will take you to the arena. No one will look twice at a country boy and his gnome.” Guarin turned to Talysse. “You,” he said, “are more of a problem.”
A Child of Great Promise: An Altearth Tale Page 7