by Glenn Wilson
Ian watched as she talked and touched at her wyvern’s head. Her topic went on for some great lengths and time and found boundless longevity in the way it seamlessly merged into new subjects. Ian tried to be annoyed by this, or at least tired, or at least to be hopefully smug in his prediction of the inevitability of such things. It was some surprise when he found he wasn’t any of those things, and found contentment—at least a little, he determined as he analyzed it—in listening to her range over words and ideas. Surely it wasn’t nearly as much fun as the sort of contentment Hitchie was experiencing beneath the gentle touches of her hand, but in it, Ian felt, it was of a similar order.
And that was it. Or rather that was one more thing that Maddy had that Elizabeth didn’t. A glow, a warm vigor for … things? Ideas? Interaction—life.
Well, that was at least in the select circles and circumstances Ian had seen them both in, which he admitted weren’t all that large. But he was sure that some significant difference did exist between them in this, and as Ian thought about it more, watching her lips move from one thought to another, seeing her eyes concentrating, but not really looking at anything other than what she was turning over in her mind, he discovered there was strength in that.
It was quite surprising, as these moments were. It made people listen to her—that, coupled with that insistent tone she employed. It made people listen and form opinions. Most of them, as he had heard, were negative, but they didn’t necessarily have to be.
There was some strength in that, Ian thought again and again, almost excitedly as he watched her hair softly cradling her. It really was a beautiful scarlet, Ian thought. He had known some girls with red hair, and it didn’t always work to the most efficient sense. Most of the others he’d seen ended up as not entirely interesting hues. But hers was; he thought to give her that. It wasn’t as classically elegant as Elizabeth’s, and not managed as well, but it was more interesting.
“Hey, are you listening?” Maddy cut in.
“Of course I am,” Ian protested, trying to snap his peripheral short-term memory around to grasp at the last subject she had just left.
“You don’t talk very much,” Maddy said, frowning.
“I don’t interrupt very much,” Ian said. “And I talk plenty enough when I have more interesting things to say than the other person.”
Maddy’s expression changed for the much better. “You’re not as funny as Private Brodie, but you are very funny.”
“Um,” Ian said, thinking fairly hotly that he was just as funny, or even funnier than Brodie—he just didn’t waste most of his life in devotion to it, “… thank you.”
Maddy closed her mouth and didn’t say anything. Ian thought that strange and wondered how much she was acting differently now because of him.
”Anyway,” Ian said, nodding over at the assortment of supplies lying in a pile on the ground, “I was going to ask whether those are the saddles that you ride them with.”
“Yes, you should see them,” Maddy skipped over to one of the saddles, “they’re a special gift from my father. Normal wyvern saddles aren’t that expensive, but these were handcrafted in Ques. They make the best handling and riding gear since that’s where the grey wyverns were from first. You see?” She knelt beside one of the rosy-leathered saddles and pulled at the seat, which smoothly pivoted on what looked like a complex mechanism. “This is a really advanced set since it allows you to stand almost all the way up, even when you’re flying straight up into the air.”
Ian looked at her. “Does that happen a lot?”
“All the time,” Maddy said, standing up. “It’s sort of scary when you’re first learning, but good fliers get used to it really fast. It only took me a couple of weeks to get good at it, though I had one of the best trainers to teach me. Would you want to learn how to, Private Kanters?”
Ian glanced back toward the rest of camp where he could detect no visible sign that they had noticed his absence. “If we were going to be with your family longer I would like to,” he said. “But I doubt there would be enough time.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Maddy said. “It took me at least a week to learn all of the basics, so I suppose it would be a couple for you, and probably longer than three if you could only practice in the evenings—”
“I’m sure it wouldn’t take that long,” Ian spoke up, feeling, holding, and then trying to suppress all the defensive impressions that quickly rose to the surface. She had plenty of game, and gall, and whatever else. Bluntly implying that he wouldn’t be able to learn as fast as—
It doesn’t matter—“But it doesn’t matter. Watching you would be … fine.”
“—Milady,” he quickly remembered to add.
“Really?” Maddy grinned.
“But not tonight?” Ian asked, judging that by her tone.
“No,” Maddy said, checking the sun, “I’ll need to have some more time to get ready. Even with two servants it takes so long to get everything done. Ugh, that’s the only bad thing about flying. And we would have to save enough time for taking it off, it’s so terrible to take it off in the dark.”
“Maybe tomorrow?” Ian asked.
“Yes,” Maddy said, but her smile was checked a little as she thought. “Well—no, I better say maybe. Father said he wants my wyverns to be kept on the ground if anything happens with the hunting. So hopefully you men don’t find anything tomorrow.”
“I’ll be sure not to tell him you said that, milady.”
She looked at him. Then smiled, then thought to think better of it, but still sort of smiled, as though she wasn’t sure how to take him. But she didn’t say anything.
“Well,” Ian cleared his throat, “I very much appreciate you allowing me to—to see—” he said that as Hitchie was in the midst of nudging her head up into his face, “to see your wyverns. They’re really remarkable.”
“I don’t think I’d want anything else,” Maddy said. “If I could only choose one thing that I could take with me somewhere, I’d take them.”
“I’m not sure I would entirely agree, milady,” Ian said, thinking about what Maddy might be like if she was apart from people for a long time. “I think you’d get lonely, even with them.”
“Eventually,” Maddy conceded, “but sometimes it’s nice to be alone for a while. Don’t you think so?”
Ian didn’t immediately answer, looking off over the plains and scattered villages of trees. “Yes. Especially in a place like this. It’s wonderful here.”
“I think it’s because you’re from Wilome,” Maddy said.
Ian frowned. “It’s not that.”
Maddy shrugged. “It’s hard to be alone in Wilome. But on this planet, people only take up twenty-five percent of the livable parts. Just think how easy it would be to get lost out here. If someone didn’t know which way to go, they could wander for years without ever seeing another person.”
“I don’t think it would be that bad,” Ian said. “Not forever of course.”
“Don’t be silly,” Maddy answered, “no one would actually like that.”
“In any case,” Ian said, realizing just how contrary he was feeling, “it’s getting late, and I had best let you retire, milady.”
“What?” Maddy said, looking at the sun, or rather trying to and having to settle for the slightly lighter area of the evening horizon. “It’s not that late, I don’t have to go to bed yet.”
“Well, unless your father has given you permission to take over one of our night watches, I think he would prefer you to be in bed soon.”
“You’re no fun,” Maddy said, “one minute you’re talking about getting lost forever because you’d like it, and now you want to go to bed because it’s getting late—”
“Yes, I do,” Ian said.
“Well, that’s stupid,” Maddy said. Pursing her lips, she evidently held back the degree she would have liked. “You’re no fun at all.”
That’s rich, Ian thought. How many of the others would have wanted
to come here?
“Be that as it may,” Ian said, “I think it’s for the best.”
Maddy drew herself back together. “Very well, then. I’ll be able to find my way back—”
“I think I would rather escort you, milady.”
“Ugh, fine, be a Puritan,” she said, starting off toward her tent, Ian following in her grumbling wake.
She curtly glanced back over her shoulder upon reaching the front of her sleeping area. “Good evening, then.”
“Good evening, milady,” Ian said, though she was already entering her tent. Heading off to bed, the more metaphorical kind, he grumbled a little to himself.
“Puritan?”
Chapter 18
“Interstellar movement has progressed in well-defined phases since the Ellosian Reestablishment, with most ships of the previously prevailing, Essels-type propulsion capable of traversing tens of light years within the space of months. The new Bevish active drive method of propulsion dramatically reduces that time, no longer being nearly as subject to the whims of the solar wind, as well as areas like the Yungus Cull, which have been greatly feared since ancient times.”
—Yeoman encyclopedia entry
The next few days and their accompanying evenings passed quickly, Ian only finding time to speak with Maddy twice, and always within the somber company of Elizabeth. It wasn’t so much he felt obligated to speak to her because no one else would—well, he had, but he had also talked with her twice, which seemed plenty well enough. And in the pragmatic light of day and further thinking and further observing of the sentiments of the rest of the company, it began to feel more certain that he should probably leave it at that.
But he had said that he would watch her fly. That dangling obligation hung heavily, and although he really did want to see that, it loomed with the likely possibility that it would lead to further obligations.
The first evening that followed was occupied by shooting practice, which would have been completely enjoyable if not for the captain. And the questionable fact that Rory was an altogether better marksman than he was. And Corporal Wesshire. But that much he could accept, and while he was genuinely worried for most of their contesting, Ian managed to narrowly edge over Kieran’s ending score, settling for third. All things considered, Ian was happy enough for it, and as long as he didn’t get any worse, which he wasn’t going to allow, he could only get better.
Later on in the second day, they stumbled upon some lion tracks in the sandier dirt. This was quite exciting, as it was the first indication that they might encounter a lion yet. Will said that the tracks were already better than many hunting parties got. It came to nothing that evening, however, as the trail didn’t last long and their searches through the surrounding vicinity didn’t yield anything else.
The third day, ironically their half-observed Sabbath, things just didn’t go well. The heat was especially bad, the brisa unruly, and the captain quarrelsome with Will over their direction.
Ian caught Maddy looking at him that evening after supper, but he did his best to avoid it. There was no time to prepare the wyverns, not really leaving room for anything besides just talking.
Why not?
The thought came to him as he prodded his meat around his mess kit.
He had an aversion to the thought of talking to her again. It hadn’t been unpleasant, for the most part—maybe that was it. He felt slighted.
That was it, he realized. He had done all this for her, which was far more than she should expect from anyone else in their entire party, and she hadn’t shown the scantest bit of gratitude.
Sort of—maybe, he thought. But it didn’t matter. He knew he had to talk to her again. She probably didn’t mean anything by it—and he did like talking to her.
He carefully raised his eyes up, and fortunately she wasn’t looking back.
He did like it.
* * * *
Startling roaring sound
Ian turned in the folds of his cloak, his eyes flailing around in the dark.
“What the devil—” he heard someone—Rory mumble nearby.
“Was that thunder?” he heard another muffled voice ask from further off.
Ian lay still, straining his ears. There were several long moments of the wind through the grass and the camp moving. Corporal Ellis Hanley was in the midst of rousing Brodie up—
Then it came again, louder, more directly this time, a tremendous roar that peaked quickly, somewhere deep inside Ian’s chest.
“The lion,” he whispered.
“Everyone up,” Ellis said as their captain’s voice was heard closer to the noble family’s tents. “Keep your rifles close.”
Ian rushed about his sleeping area, pulling his overcoat and boots on. He did a quick prioritization of his equipment and happily didn’t need most of it. It was cool enough that he didn’t need his regulator, he needed his yeoman, didn’t need most of his pack items, though no—he would take some rations and water just in—
Ian looked up at Ellis. “Shouldn’t we have some men near—”
“Kanters and Williams,” Corporal Hanley told them, his face showing that he had been thinking the same thing, “stay with the noble family until further word. Come on, Brodie, let’s get to the captain.”
“Come on, then,” Ian said to Rory, the other man snapping back that he was.
A couple minutes later and Rory was ready. It was a short ways to the noble family’s tents, and the captain and Lord Wester hadn’t gone all that far yet. They looked like they had been ready for several minutes. The margrave was loading cartridges as they worked out the finer details with Will.
“Wouldn’t want to be chasing no lion in the dark,” Rory muttered, Ian already positive that he was going to be suffering through his second man’s extra sleep deprivation all through the next day.
“There’s not much other time to do it,” Ian said, trying to sound disinterested to mask that he was actually trying to soothe Rory over, “the red lion is rarely active during the day. They hunt through the night, but especially at twilight and dawn.”
“What do you know about it?” Rory answered, but in a low and genuinely disinterested voice.
Both noble daughters were standing outside their tents in their night robes. One of their servants was also nearby, looking as though he hoped to stay behind while the others left for the lion, and to some happy compromise the margrave soon thereafter ordered one of them to come with him. The other two were to watch after the brisa while most of the Chax guides went with the hunting party.
“I can’t believe a single thing could make so much noise,” Maddy said, her eyes alight. There was maybe a little fear in it, but Elizabeth kept her arms crossed and just looked tired. Maddy quickly turned to Ian as they arrived—“You need to come with me, the wyverns are having fits.” Very audible fits. “I was going to bring them here, but father won’t let me go anywhere without one of you.”
“All right, I’ll go,” Ian said, glancing at Rory. “We’ll hurry.”
“Thank you,” Maddy said as she darted off, Ian after her.
They hadn’t gone three paces when another roar rushed through the air, further off this time though. The low moans of the brisa followed and then the wyverns’ panicked sounds.
“Ugh,” Maddy shivered as they sped up into a careful run, “it makes chills go up my back.”
“I think that’s pretty normal,” Ian said, though he wouldn’t admit it did the same to him. “Will said there’s something psychological in the sound the lions make. It’s designed to affect other animals.”
They reached where the wyverns were tied a little outside of camp without mishap. The creatures were tremulous. Hitchie in particular was shaking heavily. But Maddy was able to calm them enough to get them untied and brought back in front of the tents just in time to see Lord Wester departing with most of their rangers. Only Rory and Ellis were left, and Elizabeth quickly retired back inside her tent.
“Jolly tides,” Ian m
urmured after the rest of the company. The men looked evenly disheveled, but also excited, eager. While Ian didn’t find the hunting circumstances as ideal as he would have liked, he couldn’t help feeling a distinctive pang at watching them go after the largest reason why they were here.
“I hope father will be all right,” Maddy said as they worked to secure the wyvern’s harnesses.
Ian grimly worked at their chore. He had taken Hitchie for Maddy because she was the most unruly, and as soon as Ian had secured her, he helped the margrave’s daughter finish with Cuppie. Both wyverns ended up close enough to Maddy’s tent that they could poke their heads through the front.
But once that was finished, and Ian surveyed the grumpy remnants of their camp—as sapped of enthusiasm as if the rest of their company had pilfered the best bits with them—he found no real reason to be disgruntled or disappointed.
“It’ll be morning soon,” Ian said, glancing at his yeoman as he settled down between the wyverns just outside of Maddy’s tent, Hitchie pressing around him.
Maddy looked a little out of sorts as she also surveyed the camp and then sat down just inside her tent, her wyverns at its edge. She yawned. “The lion could have waited a little longer. Lousy hour to get up to.”
“Maybe,” Ian said, “but it’s these kinds of hours you’ll always remember.”
She turned her face toward him blearily, her expression not quite as optimistic.
“In fact,” Ian said, “I feel sorry for all those people across the empire who are sleeping now. Most of them wish all their lives to be able to have hours like these.”
Rory only gave the barest effort to grunt in disagreement as he shifted away, half-sitting and looking very much like he wished he didn’t have to bother with even that much.
“You’re probably the kind of person who likes getting up this early,” Maddy said, sort of smirking. “To plow your fields.”