by Glenn Wilson
“We’re perfectly all right,” Rory spoke up. “Besides, I think we’ll get back going tomorrow. I thought I heard the captain talking about it.”
“Our officers have been moving around a lot more,” Ian said, “it’s bound to be tomorrow morning.”
“You ought to be well enough by now,” Kieran eyed him, “what with all of that dragon riding you’ve been doing.”
“Haven’t done it yet,” Ian said.
“When then?” Brodie asked.
“Tonight,” Ian said, “so long as I can manage to walk myself there.”
“Just say the word,” Brodie said as he started to deal out a new hand of cards, “if you can’t manage it, I can second you there. Carry you even, if I have to.”
“Thanks,” Ian said, thinking to himself just how glad he was that Brodie wasn’t his second. “I’ll be sure not to have an overly large supper.”
They laughed again, their hands being a little better this time.
Ian glanced back to where Lord Wester was sitting outside of his tent. The margrave had his reader in hand but for the moment was lost somewhere else in thought, his eyes on the lion’s hide.
* * * *
And while Maddy postponed Ian’s airborne debut one more day, their party did indeed move late the next morning after the briefest Sabbath service yet. This time it was in a direction more west than northerly, toward the Quacu Mountains in hopes of coming across some more grazing animals and maybe a leopard, since the archon’s men had mostly robbed them of that.
Being rested and healed well enough, they made good time in navigating between the stretches of small forests that lay on the approach to the mountains. Nothing was quite the same though, as their urgency was gone, and the notion that they would soon be nearing their turn around point for the expedition as a whole.
That will be strange, Ian thought. Perhaps he had primed his whole life for the moment when he would join the army—graduating as a ranger and then this first assignment to Orinoco had just become natural extensions to that.
That evening, Ian took his first short trip on top of Cuppy, which ended up only consisting of getting most of the gear on and riding the wyvern on the ground. While Maddy’s caution chaffed a little, Ian could believe her assertion that it was best to begin this way, as there was plenty of art in merely directing the wyvern on the ground. Focusing as hard as he could, however, he managed to get the general directions and foot commands down within an hour. Maddy roundly complimented him on it.
Afterwards, he and Maddy set to work undoing all of the riding gear. The previous night, Ian had volunteered instead of their servants since he needed to know how to anyway. They talked a lot, Maddy about wyverns and Gower and a number of other things. By the time they had finished, it was dark, with just a glimmer of light left on the horizon.
“Do you mind—if we wait here for a little while?” Maddy asked him.
“Um, sure,” Ian said as he set the saddle piece down, his logical thoughts balking at how much his heart rate abruptly jumped.
Hitchie had long since come up behind them as they had worked, resolutely putting her back against them to be petted. Ian did that for a moment, watching as Maddy slid down to sit against Hitchie’s back.
After a couple of moments, Ian shifted his weight to his other leg. Maddy briefly glanced at him before returning her eyes to the ground, staring over her arms that rested on her knees. He thought of advising that they should head back to camp, but he could find nothing compelling for it. It was growing increasingly awkward standing like that, or so his stomach and the back of his thoughts insisted. In conclusion, he broke a little and also sat back against Hitchie, a few feet away from Maddy.
“Why don’t you talk about your home more?” Maddy asked.
Ian shrugged. “There isn’t much to talk about.”
“But you live in Wilome,” Maddy said. “Which part are you from?”
“Laxley.”
“Oh,” she said, without any tone of recognition. “How many siblings do you have?”
“Six. I’m the third oldest,” Ian said, trying not to be annoyed at that, at this. He nudged his foot along Cuppy’s back, who had laid down a little ways in front of them. The wyvern lifted his head to gaze back at them, as though trying to decide if there was any real incentive for him to move back closer to them.
“Oh,” Maddy nodded. She softly kicked her feet into the dirt.
Clearly telling that she wanted more, he soldiered on. “John is my oldest brother. He went to work at a small accounting firm a few blocks away—several years ago, I guess it’s been now. It’s the best job our family has. I have another brother and four sisters.”
“What does your father do?”
“He’s dead. He died when I was young.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.” Maddy said softly, the end of how she said it maybe even sounding mildly horrified that she’d asked, but he may have been hearing things.
After a long pause, Ian continued again. “My mother works on and off making things in their house when she can.” He went on, touching on what his sisters were like as he stared off at where the sunset had disappeared behind the mountains. The available light shrank and grew in his vision as he talked.
“Everyone at home wishes they had been born in Wilome,” Maddy said.
“Don’t know why,” Ian muttered.
“Do you think it’s bad?” she asked softly.
“Oh, no,” he said, waving it off, “it’s a fine place, for what it’s worth. It’s just not where I would rather be.”
“Um,” Maddy started, but fell silent again.
He looked over at her, the best he could, as just the barest of her features were still visible. But she did look distinctly smaller, less bold. The confirmation of that was enough to make his breath a little less confident, and the anxiousness in his stomach turned some.
He should have them head back, Ian thought. For a long moment, the words were in his mouth, but he swallowed them, not wanting to look timid. He thought she had something she wanted to tell him. Her eyes, from what he could tell, seemed to be on the ground between them.
But what could she possibly want? Nothing could come of this.
And what was there to be afraid of?
“I wish to thank you again, milady,” he said to say something, “for allowing me to learn how to fly. I wouldn’t have guessed I’d be doing anything like this.”
She nodded, smiled he thought. Maybe not.
She paused a moment, looking over her shoulder at him, then she decided and turned to sit facing him.
“You’re doing really well,” she said. “I think tomorrow you’ll be able to start flying in the air.”
“I look forward to it.”
“What do you think you’ll do after this expedition?” Maddy asked.
Ian shrugged, trying to ignore the bluntness that sprang to mind. “Whatever the army assigns me to. It’s really not up to me.”
“Oh. Of course.”
There was more stillness, Maddy working at her hands in her lap. Ian had been running his finger in circles in the dirt, but became increasingly self-conscious of this. He stopped. Then started again because he didn’t know where else to put his hand.
“Do you think—” Maddy asked suddenly, paused, “—will you get to see your family again soon?”
Ian shook his head slowly.
“Well, do you think they’ll be able to visit you?”
“No,” Ian said, staring hard at her, “of course not. They couldn’t afford that.”
“I suppose not—”
“And they’re working, it’s not as if they have time to take holiday whenever they want. It’s hard enough as it is for them to keep up on rent and inoculations, never mind food.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean—”
“Well, that’s most of dreary old Wilome for you,” Ian said. “That’s the reason why I would rather not still be there, wasting life away for
a handful of pence a day.”
“I wasn’t saying anything ill about your family,” Maddy protested. “I know that everyone has to work.”
“How would you know anything about working?” Ian asked.
Her hands clenched as she stood. “I know perfectly well about kinds of work you will never have to do, if that’s enough for you. And I think it should be.”
She took up the reigns for her two wyverns and stormed off back toward camp.
“Good night, Private Kanters,” she called, not bothering to face him.
Standing, Ian held himself from any further comment as he knew he had already said more than he should have. He distinctly felt his duty to escort her back to camp, though it was rivaled by his intense desire to just let the whole thing walk away. In the end, after doing his best to gather up all of the gear to carry back—no, he would have to make another trip—he settled for trailing her at a distance close enough that he could still see her, but long enough that they wouldn’t need to speak again.
It was probably for the best, Ian thought as he made the necessary trips hauling the equipment through the dark. Nothing could come from it, and even as the bitterness of the notion that she knew what it was like to work ran over and over through his mind, it was fed and hurt by his thoughts of her sitting across from him in the dark, looking at him.
* * * *
The gap remained frosty between them, with no contact made throughout the following day. That evening, her attention was wholly caught up with her sister in a determined manner. Ian did glance at her enough times to ascertain that there was going to be no wyvern lessons that night. It didn’t even appear that there would be any further conversation, as for all intents and purposes his existence wasn’t even compelling enough for Maddy’s notice to debate.
This arrangement wasn’t necessarily difficult—mind consuming as it was—until the usual starting time for their lesions came and began to pass after supper. He could feel it then, mixed with all of the confusing additives of guilt and uncertainty.
Kieran caught him glancing at her at one point.
“What do you care so much about, Kanters?” Kieran asked. “It’s not as though you have to be anything but polite to her.”
He glared back at Kieran, but harder parts of Ian wondered if he was right.
Their party continued on the next day, stopping once they reached the low foothills and valleys that stood between the Quacu Mountains and the plains behind them. It was too late to do much more than scout for game, so another uneventful evening passed. The following morning, the margrave was to go out with Will and Lieutenant Taylor’s men.
“Kanters, have you seen Corporal Wesshire?” Brodie asked as Ian was tending to his uniforms.
“No, not lately. He didn’t already leave with the margrave, did he?” Ian looked up to see the effect of his joke, since Wesshire not being with the margrave was the whole reason Brodie was looking for him.
“Huh—oh, yes. Funny. I don’t think so,” Brodie said distractedly as he continued on.
Ian frowned, but in following Brodie, his eyes inadvertently wandered across where Maddy was sitting and looking back at him. That in and of itself was new, but her expression that was so full of gathering resolution was what Ian knew spelled trouble.
She calmly but deliberately set her reader down and walked toward him, her eyes not quite as direct toward him.
Setting his own chores aside, Ian made a couple quick decisions about all the previous two days of debates, and he stood up to meet her.
“Good morning, milady,” he said carefully.
“Good morning, Private Kanters,” she answered. “The—”
“Excuse me, milady,” Ian said, “but before you say anything, I would like to apologize about the last time we talked.” He paused again, trying to thread the thin line between honesty and politeness that he had in his mind. “I was—wrong to act how I did. I’m sorry.”
She looked over his expression, things moving behind her eyes that he could only see bits of. “I see. Thank you, Private Kanters, I accept your apology. I also want you to know that I meant what I said—I did not intend any discourtesy or slight against you or your family,” she said very formally.
Ian nodded. He glanced around the rest of the camp at the minor flurry going on, wishing that talking with Maddy was less nervous, like talking to Elizabeth.
“I will be free this evening,” Maddy went on, “if you would still like to try to practice with the wyverns. It’s your choice.”
Ian noted that there wasn’t exactly a question involved in that question, and he couldn’t help but wonder if her father had inquired into their recent pause in lessons.
“Yes, of course,” Ian nodded, trying not to analyze just how honest that was or wasn’t.
“Very well,” Maddy said. “I will see you tonight.”
Ian murmured something in answer as she turned and left. He sat back down, amazed at how inconclusive that had been. At this point, he almost didn’t care which way all of this went, so long as it did go one way. Away sounded like a nice direction though.
Turning through his last few morning chores, Ian skipped reading his Bible, though that only somewhat lessened the echoes about forgiveness in his mind.
Evidently, this issue amounted to a noteworthy distraction, because he was fairly surprised when his yeoman picked up a companywide message. It was the basic, two-before-one jump-click they all knew—a man was missing.
Corporal Wesshire was missing.
* * * *
The rest of their day was spent in some disquiet, with the majority of their resources devoted to searching the surrounding areas. Corporal Wesshire was confirmed as having completed the first watch the previous night, but nothing more definite was known after that. The camp had a few conflicting reports of the corporal following that timeframe, but Ian was able to dismiss them as mistaken from the little he caught of them. The captain and lieutenant were both visibly shaken, as the first assumption was that some sort of wildlife attack had occurred. The lack of evidence from the rest of the camp and Corporal Wesshire’s well-known competence began to work against this initial theory, however, and whispers of possible desertion steadily began to be heard.
For Ian, the day amounted to a lot of running around the surrounding area with one of the search parties and of hard considering of whether he should inform Captain Marsden of his previous conversation with Corporal Wesshire. While Ian felt sure that it had to be connected with the corporal’s present absence, he could find no conclusive logic that it was. And though Ian felt duty bound, he also suspected that anything of the sort that he told the captain would be dismissed out of hand, and even at best wouldn’t be any more help for finding the corporal. In the end, Ian decided to wait, but if asked directly about the corporal, Ian would tell what had happened. Army protocol dictated that their superiors were to start asking for more detailed information about any man missing past the preliminary search period, which would probably start tomorrow.
The corporal’s gear was also missing, and no remaining clues were present that could be linked to him. At one point, the captain did have an inventory done of their food to ascertain whether any of it was missing. However, any difference that there might have been was too negligible to be accountable.
By evening, Ian was fairly tired, as he’d run more miles both physically and mentally to no result than he may have ever had. He had found some time for mulling over his impending wyvern lesson, however, and after a late supper with his dispirited company, he found his long apprehensions found in Maddy’s inquiring glance.
Nodding back at her, he did his best to secure his remaining chores and to gather the riding equipment as quickly as possible for the sake of their dwindling evening. Maddy only took Cuppy with them, much to Hitchie’s dismay.
“Is that everything, milady?” Ian asked as they started off to get a little outside of camp.
“I think so,” she said, not having sa
id much else prior to this. There was some silence while they walked. “I can’t believe that Corporal Wesshire is missing.”
“Neither can I.”
“No one knows anything more about what might have happened?” Maddy asked him.
“Not that I’ve heard,” Ian said. He looked over, trying to figure out what she was thinking, but her expression only belied troubled feelings. “Would you happen to know anything about where he went, milady?”
Maddy shook her head. “No. I know that no accident could have happened to him, but I don’t know why he would leave.”
Ian frowned to himself but said nothing.
“Let’s go to that hill,” Maddy pointed.
Having exhausted that topic, Ian very pointedly felt the silence again and Maddy next to him. Nothing more was said though, as they reached the hill and started to get Cuppy ready. This process was taking less and less time, and Ian felt that he was already able to ready it much faster than the Wester servants.
As Ian fitted the saddle, he abruptly looked over at her. When she looked back, he could find no edifying reason to scorn what he should do any further.
“Milady, I really do want to apologize,” Ian said.
“Why? You already have.”
“Not—really,” Ian admitted, looking at his hands. “I understand that you didn’t mean anything about my family. I knew it then, too. The problem is—I suppose, that I still have a lot of hard feelings about home. Apart from my family, there wasn’t all that much pleasant about it. But that doesn’t excuse my—behavior. I shouldn’t have said all of that. I really am sorry, milady.”
When he looked, he saw that she was listening, but not as warmly as he found that he hoped she would be. He actually discovered that he hoped that having said that would fix everything. And it felt like it should, for how hard it was.
Maddy nodded. “There’s nothing left to be sorry for. Thank you for your apology, Private Kanters, but—we do need to hurry. There’s not a lot of time left.”
“Of course,” he nodded and helped her finish readying the wyvern’s gear.