by CJ Brightley
“Would she really?” Her eyes widened.
“Not on purpose. But she has big teeth, and she really likes apples.”
“How does it feel to ride?”
“Have you never been?” I couldn’t imagine it. I trained first for suvari service, so I’d learned early. I don’t clearly remember not being able to ride.
“No.”
“Do you want to?”
She looked up at me, eyes wide. “The king is waiting for you!”
“Not now. Tomorrow morning.” I watched her face light up.
“Really?” She grinned. “I would love to! Should I come here?”
“At dawn.”
She ran back inside the palace and I mounted Kanti, the beautiful grey mare that Hakan had assigned me. It was a gorgeous day for riding in early autumn, the sun warm but the wind carrying the chill of winter. At night it would be cold, but that afternoon the weather was crisp and bracing.
The next morning I was there before Lani, but I didn’t have to wait long. I boosted her up first, then adjusted the stirrups to fit her. My long legs made mounting in front of her awkward, but in a minute we were more or less ready.
“It’s so high!”
I took her around the corral and into a pasture at a walk. “Do you want to try a trot?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t put your feet so far into the stirrups. Your shoes don’t have heels, so you have to be careful not to let your feet slip through. Just put the balls of your feet in and keep your heels down.” I waited while she adjusted her feet.
“That’s awkward. Everyone makes this look easy.”
“You get used to it. When we start trotting, lift yourself up, don’t ride all the bumps. Are you ready?” At her nod I asked Kanti for a trot. She was a good riding horse, with smooth gait changes and an even temper. Lani was startled and I could feel her off beat as she tried to match the rhythm. Around and around in a gentle trot. “Are you ready for a canter?”
“I don’t know.” She sounded a little frightened.
“Hold on as tight as you want. It’s easier than a trot.” Kanti shifted into a canter and Lani’s grip on the back of my tunic tightened. “How are you?”
“Fine!” The joy in her voice made me smile. We crossed the pasture and circled back at a leisurely canter before I slowed Kanti to a trot and then a walk.
“What about a gallop? Can we do that too?” She sounded hopeful.
“If you want to.”
“And jumping? Or should we not?”
“There’s a stream at the northern end. We can jump that. Hold on.” Her grip tightened again as Kanti galloped easily. The pasture had a gentle hill and when we crested it Kanti pulled at the bit, wanting more freedom to run. But Lani felt stiff and nervous behind me, so I didn’t let the mare free as she wanted.
“Hold on.” My warning was unnecessary as we approached and then cleared the stream easily. We circled the end of the pasture at a slow gallop and I turned Kanti toward the stable, with another easy jump back over the little stream.
“Thank you, sir. It was wonderful!” She was still grinning from the excitement.
As we approached the gate I saw Riona and another woman, and I heard Lani’s unhappy sigh.
“What?”
“My mother. Riona too, but it’s my mother I’m worried about. I didn’t tell her I was going. I did all my chores early and I told Ria where I would be, but I knew Ma wouldn’t let me come.”
I wanted to laugh. As we neared the two figures by the gate I studied her mother’s face. Not much older than I was, she looked genuinely worried, angry, relieved, and very embarrassed as we drew up. Beside her, Riona looked mostly amused, though she tried to keep a straight face.
“Nalani, get off that horse. I must apologize for my daughter, sir. She shouldn’t have bothered you.”
I dismounted and helped Lani down, and her mother continued apologizing for a moment. Lani thanked me quietly, her head down. Lani’s mother curtsied deeply, probably more awed than she should have been by my suddenly exalted position as a friend of the young king.
“You needn’t apologize for her. The fault is mine. She said she’d never been riding, and I asked her to go. Forgive me for not asking your permission.” She looked up at me in surprise. “I hope it didn’t cause you any difficulties.”
“No, sir.”
“I hope you weren’t worried. She was quite safe.”
“Yes, sir.” She ducked her head and I smiled.
“I’m grateful for her company. I would be proud to have a daughter like her.” I hoped that would help with any worries about her daughter being alone with a man. “Excuse me.” I bowed to her and led Kanti toward the stable.
I thought no more of the incident until I saw Lani that night in the hallway. I was leaving a meeting with Hakan, where we had been planning for the school he wanted to open.
“Thank you, sir.” She bit her lip and grinned, and I couldn’t help smiling back. “It was so much fun!”
Without warning she embraced me, arms about my waist and head barely coming to my chest. I patted her shoulders awkwardly, wondering what people would think if they saw us, but I couldn’t help smiling back.
“My mother was so surprised at what you said she barely scolded me. Thank you, sir.”
“Next time you should tell her where you are. She was worried about you. And call me Kemen.”
She smiled. “Kemen, then. You’re more fun than you look.”
“Thank you, I think.”
“You know what I mean! You should smile more often, so people see how nice you are.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Maybe I’m not nice. Or maybe I don’t want anyone to know.”
She laughed. “That’s silly. Of course you are.”
It was strange to be so comfortable with her. There were twenty years between us, and we had nothing in common. Yet she had a special openness about her, a smiling warmth that wouldn’t accept less in return. It was an odd friendship we had, but one I always cherished.
9
Riona
In early Sensaasti, on a warm late summer afternoon, we walked in the forest just outside the palace gate on the western side. It felt adventurous, but when I glanced up at him striding so confidently next to me, I felt a little foolish.
“What is it?” His voice was soft and low when he looked down at me.
“I haven’t been out here in years.” I wondered if he could sense my nerves somehow; he always seemed to see more than I meant to show.
“Do you always stay in the palace?”
“Except when I go to market.”
He stopped suddenly and appeared to be listening intently. The leaves rustled in the slight breeze. He wore a faint smile and his eyes searched the branches. Finally he pointed. “There.”
I couldn’t see it at first.
“On the beech, just above the fork on the left side.”
“What is it?” It was tiny, a delicate little bird with a spot of brilliant blue under its chin.
“A firza. They only sing in early autumn.” He still looked around until finally he smiled and looked down at me. “There’s the nest. Do you want to see?”
I nodded.
At the base of the tree, he put out his hands and laced his fingers together. “I’ll boost you up.”
I bit my lip. It felt terribly awkward, but I put one hand on his shoulder, one on the tree trunk, and put my right foot in his hand. He straightened easily and then I was looking right into the nest. The chicks must have been nearly ready to fly, tiny bodies covered with a mixture of pale down and muted adult feathers. Their cries were nearly inaudible, mouths stretched wide. I nearly laughed with delight.
I was about to pick one up when I heard him say quietly, “Don’t touch them.”
“Why not?” I drew back my hand, but I still smiled to see them shrieking for food.
“The mother might abandon them.” In a moment, he let me down with a quiet smile.
“How old are they?”
“Maybe a week. Firza chicks hatch late. Maybe it’s why there are so few of them.”
A few days later, we stayed outside the gates until long after dark. I was nervous about it. Not that I feared for my safety; I didn’t doubt him at all. It just felt a little scandalous to be out after dusk with a man.
“I want you to see the moon.” His words had been simple, but his eyes held a shy hope. I’d nodded, blushing furiously.
We ate a picnic dinner on a hill to the west of the palace. The forest was just behind us, the palace grounds laid out before us like a painting. The wind was from the east, and the faint scent of late roses and lavender from the garden made everything seem warm and perfect.
“Now we wait.”
“For the moon?”
He nodded. I heard the trilling call of some kind of bird behind us and looked at him.
“Palesinger.” His answer was soft.
I glanced over my shoulder at the forest. The sun would be setting soon, though the trees blocked the best view, and the forest looked darker and a little frightening.
“What do you fear, Riona?” His eyes were kind.
I felt silly admitting it. “I’ve never been out here at night. The forest seems different.”
He smiled quickly and put out his hand as if he would touch mine, but then drew it back again. “I meant in general. But you needn’t fear the forest. So close to Stonehaven, it holds nothing more dangerous than men.”
I smiled. “And you’ll protect me?” I said it lightly to take the attention off my nerves, but he nodded.
“I will.” His voice was quiet with no hint of either mockery or bravado.
There was a long silence, until he leaned back to stare at the sky. “Arctana, the stag, rises early this time of year. We should be able to see Ristan soon, over there. That’s the point of his shoulder.”
I lay back on the blanket. We might have been closer, but we both maintained a careful, cautious distance, too shy to shift toward each other. I half-wished he would take my hand. I almost reached for his once. Isn’t that what men and women do when they’re courting? Were we courting? I wasn’t quite sure.
When I glanced at him, he was staring up into the brilliant sky, his expression unreadable. Sir, what do you fear? I wanted to ask. It was a good question because I wanted to know him. I couldn’t really imagine him fearing anything, but everyone has fears, even the bravest hero. I didn’t have the courage to ask it of him, so I settled for something less intimate, less prying.
“Were the stars different in Rikuto?”
“They’re the same. Rikuto is east. To the north and south they’re different. On the northern border, you see only the tops of Arctana’s antlers, Sen and Forei. The best known constellation is Gevar, the Royal Crown. The line from Puran to Kal, in Gevar, points due north. To the south, in the desert where the Senga live, you tell north by the line of the string in Okcu’s bow. Okcu is the Archer.”
“It must be exciting to travel so many places.”
He blinked and glanced at me. “I suppose.” He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else, but then looked back at the sky. The sunset was fading, and in the dimming light his profile looked strong and handsome.
When the moon rose, it lit the sky with silver brilliance. It rose behind the palace, and soon I saw why he’d chosen our vantage point. The light streamed toward us with such clarity that the palace was silhouetted, making sharp shadows on the gardens, and the tallest spire bisected the full moon. I stared in awe until I finally realized that his eyes were on my face.
“It’s beautiful.” My words were only a whisper. I half-expected some bit of flattery in response. That’s what men do when they’re courting a woman, isn’t it? Not as beautiful as you are. Or I hadn’t noticed, I’m so captivated by you.
He only a smiled a little. “I’m glad it pleases you.”
We sat in silence for some time longer. It was magical, and I breathed in the warm air scented with roses and lavender and thought that life was nearly perfect. I wanted certainty, of course, but the evening had been beautiful.
When we finally rolled up the blanket and packed away the food, he slung the pack over his shoulder and started off. I followed close behind him in the woods. Though the moon was bright, the trees were thick and it was very dark in their shadows. I could barely see the white of his shirt, much less the path in front of me. He walked so quietly it was as if he was a creature of the forest himself, and I had great trouble following the sounds of his steps. I felt my heart beating faster with the small sounds of the woods around us. Once I stumbled over a root and let out a small cry.
“Are you hurt?” His voice was quiet, steady, and startlingly near, and I felt my face flush.
“No, I only tripped. I’m fine.” I heard him step away.
He spoke quietly at intervals. “Careful. There’s a branch over the path.”
“It’s steep here.”
“This is where we stepped over the stream.” He seemed to hesitate. “I can lift you over if you want.”
I felt presumptuous to ask it, but I couldn’t even see the rocks we’d stepped on earlier. “If you don’t mind.”
He lifted me with one arm behind my knees and the other behind my shoulders, and stepped into the water. It was hardly the graceful, romantic thing I would have imagined it; I was stiff and nervous and he was painfully proper. I’m not as light as a feather, but he made me feel so, the hard muscles of one arm next to my cheek. It was only a few steps across, and he set me on my feet again.
“Thank you.” It wasn’t much farther to the palace, and he escorted me to the door of my apartment. “It was a lovely night, sir. Thank you.” I looked down at his boots. They were wet nearly to his knees. I bit my lip and looked up at him.
He smiled. “Sleep well, Riona.” He bowed and then was off down the hall.
I barely heard the knock, but I knew it was Lani. It was after dinner several days after Kemen and I saw the moon, when I was preparing for bed. Her father had taken her when he went to speak to Frin Pireyu about a possible engagement. I knew it was unwise to take Lani. Her father wasn’t a bad man, nor unkind, but he was painfully oblivious to a girl’s fears.
Lani had never met Pireyu, but she knew he was much older than she was, a small time merchant who sold Senga cloth and imported spices. The prospect of travel south excited her, but she was nervous about him. He was more affluent than the younger men her father was also considering, and it would be a good match for the family, a step up in the world. But the age difference only made her more nervous.
When I opened the door, she rushed in and threw herself into my arms without a word.
“That bad, was it?” I rubbed her back. She was trembling, shaking her head and brushing at her eyes.
“Dog! He’s a filthy dog! He said…” she sniffed furiously.
There was another knock on my door and she stiffened. “Ma. I don’t want to talk to them, Ria! Don’t make me.”
“I won’t, I won’t. Let me answer it though.”
She moved away, just out of sight. I opened the door, but it was not my aunt Ena or my uncle Joka. It was Kemen.
“I came to see if…” he stopped. “What’s wrong?”
I’d completely forgotten. In the kitchen that afternoon he’d said that a storm was coming. He’d asked if I wanted to go to the highest tower of the palace to see the sunset because it would be especially beautiful. “Not now. I’m sorry.” My voice trembled a little. I’d been looking forward to it all afternoon, but Lani needed me.
He nodded, hesitated, and then turned away.
“I’m sorry, Ria. I can go.” Lani said quietly, her eyes red.
He must have heard her, because he turned back with a slight questioning frown. She stepped around the door and tried to slip past him.
“Lani, what’s wrong?” His voice was so kind that she began to cry.
He glanced at me and pull
ed her into my apartment with a gentle hand on her sleeve, sitting her down at the table and kneeling to face her. She was sniffling and half-choking on angry tears.
“He’s a dog! He made Pa tell him all about the dowry, down to the last kinds of cloth and how much of everything. And then he said he didn’t like me and wouldn’t go through with it! It was pathetic. It was cruel.” She brushed at her eyes furiously.
Kemen leaned over to look in her face. “Is that it?”
She shook her head, not meeting his gaze. We both waited, and finally she whispered, “He said I didn’t have the class to be a merchant’s wife. He said I was ugly, and stupid to be reaching so far above my place. I don’t have the looks to be so ambitious.”
“Oh, Lani.” The words were mine, but Kemen was closer to her, and when she buried her face in her hands with a fresh round of tears, he patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.
She sniffed and looked at the floor, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
“Count yourself lucky. I can’t imagine you happy married to a dog.” He spoke very seriously.
She almost smiled a little through her tears.
“A stupid one at that. Any fool can see you’re beautiful, Lani.” There was teasing kindness in his voice. “Besides, he’s ancient, isn’t he?”
“Thirty one.” She raised her eyebrows. “Younger than you.”
He smiled. “Barely. He’s ancient. Practically blind, no doubt, and senile. You don’t want to be saddled with a doddering old fool, do you?”
She shook her head, smiling now. “He did have a paunch.”
His help was more than welcome; there was always plenty of work. He was very kind. When Sayen was sick in the kitchen, he cleaned up the mess while I took her to her room. He took her place. The next morning he was there early to do her work, and when she arrived he told her to take the day to rest. No one would argue with his command, and she did need the rest. Her pregnancy had not been easy.