The Marcher Lord (Over Guard)

by Glenn Wilson

  Ian saw Will raise his head for a moment before glumly putting it back down.

  “I’m fine,” Ian tried as she led him to where he was more or less going anyway, “really.”

  “Cadbury!” Maddy called. “Get the medical supplies! And lots of water!”

  “I’m fine,” Ian said as he was eased to the ground, his consciousness swimming around the edges, smiling, because it felt so good to be here. This wasn’t home, but it was on the way. And it felt good. “Really.”

  * * * *

  Their expedition stopped to take something of a long breath. With their primary objective achieved and many of them in less than optimal shape, there was no longer any pressing urgency to their drive. And while it was never really spoken of, the death of one of their party struck a blow to the general atmosphere, to a surprising extent.

  Ian felt much better after having slept through most of the evening and night, and even more than that, he wanted to feel better again. The pain had subsided to an aching tightness which made subsequent sleeping difficult for any great lengths of time.

  The few days they spent there were idle but not without charm. Will took a great deal of his free time to try and teach Ian some basic Chax phrases that ran through the most prominent of the planet’s native languages. They also had plenty of boasting and stories and games. And more doting than he would have liked, and not just from the Wester girls. Kieran and especially Brodie made a great deal of fun out of taking care of Rory and especially Ian, “the lion tamer,” as they dubbed him.

  And on the second morning, Madeline approached him rather awkwardly.

  “Good morning, milady,” Ian said from his sleeping area where he had been reading.

  “Good morning,” she answered. “Did you sleep well?”

  “I managed,” Ian said. “Is there something—”

  “My father says that you were very brave on the hunt,” Maddy said.

  “That’s—very kind of him.”

  Maddy paused. “Would you like to learn how to ride the wyverns?”

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “I would like that.”

  “My father already told you about it, didn’t he?”

  “Yes—he mentioned it.”

  “If you don’t really want to, I understand,” Maddy looked down around the ground as she went. “And I want you to just say it if you don’t. If you would rather not spend all your free time—”

  “Wait, wait just a minute,” Ian halted her. “Why would you think that I wouldn’t? I had already said before that I wanted to.”

  “People say a lot of things,” Maddy said, trying to shrug. “But—”

  “So it’s settled then,” Ian said. “We’ll start this evening.”

  “What?” Maddy crossed her arms. “Are you crazy? You could barely walk two days ago. There’s no way—”

  “But—”

  “No. How can I teach you how to fly if you’re still half dead?” she paced in front of him, her eyes up and elsewhere as she lectured him on all the finer difficulties of riding wyverns, none of which were within the near future for him.

  “I can settle for watching for the first couple of days,” Ian said, a bit irked.

  Maddy stopped, already beyond that as her eyes glowed, “I know you’ll love it, there’s nothing like it. Sometimes, when you pull up and then drop down fast again, it’s like you can grab the air in your arms. I can’t wait to show you, you’re going to love it!”

  * * * *

  That night their first bit of bad weather moved through. Will said it was unusual for this time of season, and that it would probably just be a dry storm since the rainy season was still some ways off.

  By early evening, it was looking ominous enough in the west over the mountains that Ian nearly made Maddy wait on showing him how to fly on the wyverns. But she was stubborn, and he really did want to see. She’d gone through a lot of special work that involved a lot of special work from two of their servants. They didn’t seem happy to have such a large chunk of their evening eaten up, and they left soon after the preparations were made to linger at the barest edges of availability.

  It was impressive seeing her in all the riding regalia, which involved a lot of dark red, leather-like material. Finally, when all of the preparations were done and Cuppy also appropriately outfitted, she had the darker wyvern kneel down for her. With a practiced hop, she swung her legs up and onto the saddle.

  “Are there any ways to get everything ready faster?” Ian asked her as Cuppy stood up on his hind legs, leaving Maddy to tilt her saddle forward to stay upright.

  “Most of what takes so long are the safety precautions, sometimes those can be skipped,” Maddy said, her head darting around, checking things and tapping the reins to get Cuppy to pivot. “Now, any good wyvern will respond to the slightest move of the reigns. Underneath their necks where the reigns run under is really sensitive, though it’s harder for them to feel it in the air.”

  “Are either of them easier to ride than the other?” Ian asked, more to have something to say. He didn’t realize it would be so frustrating just having to watch her.

  “Cuppy isn’t usually as energetic as Hitchie is,” Maddy said, “so he makes it a lot more predictable.”

  “Oh,” Ian said as Hitchie began to nudge him at the mention of her name. The other wyvern seemed a little put out to be in the same boat as Ian, so he offered her a consolatory rub under her snout.

  “Aren’t you boy?” Maddy asked Cuppy. “Now—hey, are you watching?”

  “I’m watching, I’m watching,” Ian protested, though it was hard with Hitchie lovingly battering at him.

  Maddy kicked Cuppy after Hitchie, shooing the other wyvern away before going on. “Most wyvern saddles only have a few functions, but this one has a bunch because it’s so much better made. The most basic function will work almost all the time, so it’s really the only one you’ll have to know for a while. Look,” she turned Cuppy around so that her side and mostly her back were facing him. “The right stirrup has a control that locks and releases the saddle to adjust as you go along. Up means forward, down means backward. Do you see?”

  “Yes,” Ian said, making sure he kept his eyes only where her foot was moving against the stirrup.

  “The left stirrup is free to make the wyvern speed up or slow down however much you need. Do you get it?”

  “Got it,” he said, eyeing the dark pattern of clouds in the distance. Lightning occasionally illuminated their interiors as he watched. “It looks like we don’t have much time.”

  “I can get a few passes in,” Maddy said, this time turning Cuppy around in earnest. With a quick kick, they sprang off.

  “Watch, Private Kanters—here I go!”

  Cuppy unfolded his wings, pressed them up, then down once as he gained speed, and then they left the ground as the wyvern rose up into the sky. He flapped his wings hard for several seconds until they had gotten some ways off. And then Maddy turned them around in a long arc to come back toward Ian.

  He crossed his arms and remembered that he was supposed to be looking impressed, though he then realized that he was impressed.

  Maddy and company continued to pick up speed as she headed straight for him. Dipping a little, she had Cuppy begin to spin around in a barrel roll as she got closer. He didn’t move but raised his eyebrows, though he doubted she saw that as she pulled up just in front of him and rushed by overhead, the sweep of air yanking at his clothes and her delighted laughter ringing after.

  Hitchie got up on her hind legs, antsy and looking as though she was going to follow. But she relented and came next to Ian again, who did his best to pacify her.

  Ian didn’t realize how hard he was grinning, watching Maddy go through a string of various maneuvers through increasing heights, until he heard Elizabeth call behind him.

  “She’s very good, isn’t she?” Elizabeth stopped next to Hitchie, her arms very much at her side and her eyes on Maddy.

  “It’s amazi
ng,” Ian affirmed.

  “And I hear she’ll even allow you to learn how to ride them?” Elizabeth asked. She turned to Ian, but her face was kindly impassive.

  “Once I recover to professional satisfaction.”

  “The captain was told by our chero that this storm could be very severe soon,” Elizabeth went on, “and the captain told one of our servants to tell you and Maddy. And since none of them are prone to action, I decided I may as well.”

  “All right,” Ian said, “I’ll signal her to come down—is there a signal?”

  “I also thought,” Elizabeth said, “that I would you ask a question.”

  Ian looked back at her. “Of course, milady.”

  “All this attention you have been showing my sister does not seem to be motivated by any ulterior motive.”

  “I would hope not,” Ian said, waving in a downward motion at Maddy as she turned toward them again.

  Elizabeth smiled casually. “But if that’s truly the case, why is it you allow her to be around you so much?”

  “Why not?” Ian tried to gaze through her docile expression, but couldn’t find anything conclusive beyond it.

  “That is what I am curious about,” Elizabeth said. “You have nearly become a minor hero with all of this hunting lately.”

  “Are you worried about your sister, milady?” Ian said, a little bit to the point as Maddy was swooping in low with Cuppy.

  “My sister is easily moved by any signs of interest in her talents. Her feelings naturally follow.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s always necessarily the case,” Ian said carefully.

  The margrave’s daughter gave a little laugh. “I suppose you cannot know her very well. She’s only a girl.”

  Ian didn’t say anything, much as that bent of condescension didn’t seem impartial. Elizabeth’s gaze remained on him, casually enough, but he thought, felt that it was very probing.

  “I only wish that Maddy is well-respected by all of our men,” Elizabeth went on lightly, a smile gingerly pressed over her lips. “And I think I have far more reason to be comforted in your case than some of the others in your company.” She gave an endearing snort.

  Ian smiled a bit, watching as Maddy came closer to them.

  “I would hate for her feelings to be hurt,” Elizabeth said quietly as she watched her sister slowly ease her wyvern to the ground.

  “The storm’s getting really close,” Maddy was grinning as she took off her helmet. “You can really feel it up there.”

  “Father wants all of us to return to camp,” Elizabeth said.

  “Cadbury,” Maddy called, but their two servants were already hurrying over to dismantle the gear.

  “Did you see how I was turning on the ends, Private Kanters?” Maddy asked.

  “I did,” Ian smiled.

  “I love it up there,” Maddy said, “it just feels so much different on this planet. I’m not sure if it’s the air, or the gravity, but—Cadbury, please help us unpack—”

  “We can handle this, milady,” Cadbury said grimly, evidently spurred on by the storm and probably some equally stormy orders. “My Lord wishes both of you back to camp, straightaway.”

  “There’s a lot to do,” Maddy said, half to Ian as well, “but I suppose we’ll keep the lacings on, and I can fix them tomorrow. Come on, Private Kanters, we can—”

  “I can stay here and help the men,” Ian said, “why don’t you go on ahead with your sister, milady. You can take Hitchie, and I can bring Cuppy when he’s ready.”

  “But—” Maddy started.

  “That is very noble of you, Private Kanters,” Elizabeth said, all smiles.

  The wind picked up around them, throwing at their hair and their clothes, the wyverns jostling nervously, and even Ian’s skin rose a little at the sudden wave of colder air.

  “Come on, Maddy,” Elizabeth said, turning back toward camp.

  Whatever Maddy said in response was lost in another turn of the wind.

  Ian watched them for a moment before bringing his attention back to Cuppy and setting to work with the servants to undo the main strap from Cuppy. Its tension was difficult to get a grip on, however. Elson, the other servant working with Cadbury, asked him to fetch the reliever Ian had seen Maddy using earlier.

  Ian ran back to the small stack of supplies not far away. Mostly back after where Elizabeth and Maddy were walking down toward camp.

  As he was stooping over the equipment, a strong breeze came back into him, opposite from where the Wester daughters were walking.

  A single line of Elizabeth’s voice carried back clear enough to catch.

  “—though he is not as handsome as some of the others—”

  And the rest was lost.

  * * * *

  That night wasn’t especially good for sleeping out with the elements. Although the dry storm held true to its name and no precipitation resulted from it, the winds were sporadically severe. Great shoots of lightning and thunder worked for hours through the network of clouds, and the most unnerving experience came in the runs of static charges that occasionally moved over the ground. They weren’t unlike breezes, only they made one’s hair do far more interesting things.

  All of this made it hard to sleep, and Ian wasn’t sure that anyone besides Rory was able to get any sort of fitful rest. Ian’s second sorely grumbled about it for about a minute before he fell into a stillness that lasted until morning. That was a skill Ian often envied.

  The thoughts that Ian was left with in the interim, before the heavens calmed a little and he fell asleep for a while, weren’t quite so dramatic but were also restless. He thought often of the dead Chax guide, whose life had ended so permanently by a cause so fleeting. Eventually, Ian realized that the reason it bothered him so much was that it had happened while their company had succeeded in their objective of assisting the margrave kill a red lion. There were other goals as well, but that was essentially what Ian had wanted. And while succeeding at that, it felt that, on the whole, it was disqualified through the Chax’s death, that their success was a voided failure when considered overall.

  This realization caused Ian some shame, as that was the whole problem. The Chax, whom he didn’t even know the name of, was worth more than any number of expeditions. The only consolation was that the Chax had chosen the risks. And that was all that was needed, as Ian reasoned their company was doing the same.

  Ian was swimming along and under the planet’s dirt in the darkness, the grasses up and around him. He moved his arms through the ground like it was water, only there was no water. Just something behind him that he couldn’t see, and when he did, it was a host of Chax arms reaching for him, their faces gaping at him with open mouths and empty eye sockets—

  Ian jerked up as all the Chax touched him—

  But it was actually just another wave of static that ran over them and through his chest, startling his already frantic heart.

  Taking his bearings and feeling foolish, he forced himself back to the ground and tried to will his heart to slow down.

  Therefore, somewhat ironically, Ian then found much more comfort in trying to puzzle out the Wester daughters. He tried to do the comparison between them again, but found with some startlement that his opinions had noticeably changed.

  All of it seemed to be overshadowed with his feeling that Elizabeth was very angry at him, and that was when he thought of Elizabeth at all. It was kind of annoying how he couldn’t get his mind clean of Maddy. Mostly, it was of the problems associated with her. But those weren’t his fault and certainly shouldn’t be his responsibility.

  And there was the indignation, the defensiveness. Certainly he couldn’t claim to be as handsome as some of the others in his company, but that didn’t mean that they should say that. Or that it was actually such a large gap between him and the next contender that it should even come to mind.

  Her lips were nice. He had to give Maddy that. This was especially convenient because they kept coming up in his
mind. It was from them that so much of her flowed, Ian thought. And he hoped that if he heard the subject of his handsomeness come from them, it would be a little bit more favorable than Elizabeth’s summary.

  Another wave of static ran over them, and he turned in his bed to stare hard at the ground.

  But what did it matter?

  Chapter 21

  “Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.”

  —Romans 12:14-15

  Two more days followed much in the same way, though calmer than that night. Generally, it was for them to finish physically recovering. Ian, however, felt like he had already overstayed his appropriate recovery time. Will, Lieutenant Taylor, and evidently Maddy were the foremost medical minds in the camp, and they pronounced his rate of healing much lower than he might have and did.

  Still, it was nice not to be on the move for a short time. And while rugby was definitely out, they got in a lot of cards.

  “Sticks,” Kieran muttered as he threw down an eight of diamonds into the main brek. “Sticks to you, Brodie.”

  “I can’t do much better,” Brodie said, throwing down some odd number that Ian didn’t bother to remember. “Sticks again to our lion tamer.”

  “And I’ll meet that,” Ian said, dropping two of his low cards with an ace, grinning at the collective protest that ran around their game.

  Brodie paused for a moment in consternation. “How many aces are in this deck?”

  There was a pause before they all laughed.

  “What’s the point?” Rory asked, tossing whatever he had left.

  “What’s the point indeed?” Brodie asked. “I told you we should have played noddy—”

  “I would more like to go for a jaunt of tyranny,” Kieran said, “just as soon as you two are nursed back to health enough to play a standing game.”