Fire Rider

by T M Miller

  Firedrake were depositing their riders in the large open area before the tables and flying back out again, some hardly bothering to land; instead hovering just above the ground whilst waiting for their riders to climb off. Jaron watched, thinking he wouldn’t be able to do that without falling flat on his face. Thankfully, Madrag landed smoothly and furled his wings. Carna jumped off and helped Rella down. He stood back and let Jaron dismount on his own. Madrag helpfully raised his foreleg and Jaron managed to get off and stay on his feet.

  Rella took his arm, her other resting on Carna’s and the three walked slowly into the massive hall. ‘How was school today?’ she asked.

  ‘Fine,’ he muttered, distracted as the babble of voices ahead stilled. There was none of the formality that Tiara’s Lord Bell would have demanded, but all paused politely in their chatter and some of the older ones nodded as Carna passed, their eyes coming to rest on Jaron. He managed to resist the urge to duck his head and look down at his feet.

  ‘Well, I want to hear all about it later,’ his mother said in his ear.

  He nodded, and saw they were heading toward a round table at the end of the hall set slightly further apart from the others. It seemed an age before they reached it, walking past all those tables. Jaron was thankful for Oran’s insole – it certainly helped him to walk more smoothly even if it didn’t eliminate his limp completely.

  Dominating the hall was the master carpenter’s handiwork – the large sculpture of a big red he had seen from up on the walkway. Jaron could see now why it shimmered so. Polished stones of various reds and blues formed the scales on the entire body, and set in the head, nearest to the floor as the beast made to climb down from its pillar, were two clear yellow stones that caught the luminosity of the firedrake’s eyes perfectly.

  ‘Good evening, Lady Tarla, Lady Leraine, gentlemen,’ Carna said as they neared. The people at this table stood up, six men and one woman, while a white-haired lady in an elaborate jewelled dress remained sitting. There was a ripple of answering greetings to Carna and Rella. The lord pulled out a chair for Rella and sat her down. She smiled and nodded to those standing while Jaron stood uncertainly by her side, bearing the weight of stares from those at the table and feeling the eyes of the hall at his back. His scar burned. Carna came and stood behind him, his hands resting heavy on his shoulders.

  ‘This boy is my nephew, Jaron, son of Lady Rella.’

  Nephew. It felt odd to be called so and Jaron wondered about the lord using it here.

  Carna was guiding him towards the chair one along from his mother and the man standing nearest pulled it out for him.

  ‘Val,’ Jaron said, and smiled in relief; at least there was one other person at the table he had met before, although it seemed an eon ago since the race dinner back in Tiara.

  Val nodded down at him, smiling. ‘Good evening, Lord Jaron.’

  ‘Oh, but I’m not–’ he stopped. Val’s head had done the smallest of shakes and his eyes spoke a warning that froze the words on Jaron’s lips. The rider sat then, looking away from him across the table and toying with his tankard. Jaron felt Carna’s hand on his shoulder pressing him down into the seat next to him. Jaron stole a look around the table as the diners all sat. A lady sitting across from him with short-cropped blonde hair smiled kindly.

  ‘I’ll introduce you to them,’ Carna said, standing again. He dipped his head in a respectful way at the white-haired lady who sat next to his mother. ‘Lady Tarla.’ She didn’t acknowledge Carna at all but stared at Jaron with vacant pale eyes until he wondered if she were blind. Just then, the eyes seemed to swim into focus, proving him wrong in his first assumption. It was a strange thing to witness, like she had been somewhere else and was now back. Her eyes widened as she seemed to notice Jaron for the first time. Her skin was so thin and wrinkled it reminded Jaron of scrunched parchment.

  Rella leaned towards her and placed a hand on her sleeve.

  ‘Tarla dear, did you hear? This is Jaron, my son.’

  Lady Tarla looked at Rella as if she was coming out of a dream.

  Carna extended his hand across the table towards the other woman who had smiled at Jaron. ‘Leraine Manta, Wing Commander of Mount Konraka.’ The lady smiled again and nodded at him. Jaron managed a tight smile back before feeling himself blush yet again. ‘Thorel Rand, chief advisor of the council,’ a muscular, broad-shouldered man with a thick head of blond hair and beard nodded whilst his sharp deep-set eyes bored into Jaron. He remembered what Marla had said; this was Tench’s father. Carna indicated a thin, lank-haired man who lounged in his chair next to Thorel. ‘Minderman Burech,’ the man’s dark eyes appraised Jaron and his thin lips twisted into a sardonic smile. Carna moved on to the next man seated. ‘Korel Baine, Wing Commander of Mount Rill and his brother Parel, Commander of Mount Makra.’ The two looked as though they were twins and nodded as one with serious faces. In their forties, both with short-cropped hair and wearing sleeveless leather tunics with bare muscular arms, they had the hard look of warriors about them. ‘Nave Edelle, Scarf Wing Commander.’ Nave nodded and turned back to his tankard. He seemed familiar to Jaron but he couldn’t remember just now, feeling a little under siege with all the new introductions. ‘And Val Gin you have already met, Scarf’s Wing Second.’ Val winked at him.

  The lord sat down and Jaron noticed Rella’s hand slide across to hold Carna’s where it lay on his lap below the level of the table. Their fingers entwined. Jaron raised his eyes to find his mother watching him; she smiled encouragement and her son wished he was sitting next to her instead of Carna.

  The servants seemed to know the exact time there was a lull in the proceedings and swarmed around the table, placing plates and refilling the jugs of wine and ale. The level of chat in the hall rose higher as though the whole hall had been holding back, waiting for their table to start eating.

  ‘About time. I’m dying of starvation here,’ the thin-faced man with lank black hair reached across to grab a steak as soon as the serving plate was set down.

  ‘Minderman,’ Leraine shook her blonde head and laughed. ‘I envy you – how come you eat so much yet never gain a paunch?’ Minderman lifted the plate so she could reach it.

  ‘Hard work, Leraine, hard work.’

  ‘That’ll be the day,’ Thorel scoffed without humour. ‘Worms more like.’ Minderman grinned at the bearded man but didn’t rise to the barb.

  ‘Best hurry up and tuck in, my lord,’ Val said as he lifted a plate of steaming new potatoes and held it while Jaron spooned some onto his plate. Jaron thanked him while still digesting the title that he was being forced to accept. Next moment Carna was putting a slab of beef onto his plate while Rella pushed across the bowl of green beans so they were within his reach. Feeling self-conscious, he quickly spooned some on and pushed the bowl towards Val. There was silence around the table as everyone concentrated on eating. Jaron was just grateful their focus was off him but unfortunately his reprieve didn’t last long.

  ‘How are you settling in, Lord Jaron?’ Leraine asked. She was being kind but of course everyone now gave him attention to hear his reply. In his haste Jaron tried to swallow and speak at the same time, which led to a choking fit until Carna slapped him hard between the shoulder blades while Val offered him a tankard of ale to wash it down.

  ‘I-It’s very different from Tiara,’ was all he could think to say once he had recovered. He took another sip from the tankard, savouring the strange taste, and tried to ignore the stinging between his shoulder blades where Carna’s heavy hand had landed. Rella poured some water from a jug and pushed the glass towards him, a meaningful look in her eye.

  Thorel grunted. ‘Your Tiara’s Lord Bell is not an easy character, is he?’

  ‘Thorel…’ Carna said the man’s name as a warning. But Thorel was not to be put off. ‘Well, he isn’t. Why not talk about it? Your young lord should know he’s refusing to send any more grain.’

  ‘Why not?’ Jaron asked. It was Minderman that answered hi
m. ‘He feels we’ve stolen his star race rider and head chef from Tiara, Lord Jaron.’ He smiled as he glanced at Rella, who flicked her heavy hair back over her shoulder.

  ‘I’m not surprised, I was the best chef they’d ever had.’ In a sudden change of mood, she glared across the table at Minderman. ‘And I’m not ashamed of who I was, Minderman, you will do well to remember that.’

  ‘My lady, I meant no insult, but according to Lord Bell he cannot hope to get his finest kelpra stallion back without its rider’s help, and no one to ride him if he does.’ He looked at Jaron. ‘I gather our young lord here is the only one the carnivorous horse will allow on its back so he is very keen that Lord Jaron return.’

  Jaron looked at the Raken lord. ‘He’s not giving you grain? Because of me?’

  ‘It makes no difference,’ Carna said in a flat tone. ‘Bell can threaten as much as he likes; neither you nor Rella will return. You were never his to begin with.’

  ‘Oh yes? We’re yours now, are we, my lord?’ Rella’s eyes flashed in warning. Carna grinned at her. ‘That’s right, my lady, all mine, always.’

  Jaron watched in surprise as his mother seemed to almost melt. ‘Oh,’ she breathed and parted her lips in a slow smile. Val suddenly coughed into his tankard.

  So Caliber still hadn’t been found, Jaron worried. No wonder Lord Bell was mad. They all knew what the kelpra stallion could do, had seen how fast he was, the fastest they had ever bred, Sprague had said. He was a valuable animal. Of course they would need his rider to get him back.

  ‘Maybe I should go back to help them find him,’ he ventured. Rella was already shaking her head and Carna’s hard look caused Jaron to quail. ‘Then the Raken people would get grain,’ he managed to finish.

  Thorel nodded. ‘Not a bad idea, the young lord could just do that and Bell use the stallion for breeding to keep him happy. Winter’s not far off now. Our stores are low since the crops further north were destroyed in those storms.’

  Rella’s sharp intake of breath was loud. She dropped her fork onto the plate with a clatter, but Carna put his hand over hers before she could speak. ‘As I said,’ he ran his steel gaze around the table, coming to rest on Jaron and pinning him with his grey eyes, ‘it will not happen.’

  ‘No,’ it was Lady Tarla who answered and they all looked at her. The watery eyes were focused on Jaron. ‘Young lord’s blood, Rillion blood, belongs here.’ Her voice was deeper than he was expecting and it seemed to silence the whole table. Rillion blood, he remembered the boy in the book Carna had given him had that name. Lady Tarla looked down at the plate Rella had placed in front of her and slowly began to eat. Jaron followed her lead and sliced into his beef before he noticed that the others were all staring at him now. He looked up at Carna whose face seemed a shade paler under his usual sun and wind tan.

  It was Nave who broke the silence. ‘Korel and Parel, what progress on the wild blue firedrake that’s been seen in the area?’

  Korel answered first. ‘It’s still about. No matter what we do, it keeps on circling back to the valley.’

  Parel nodded. ‘Tasker drove it right over the Arkenara range towards the north and into an ambush, but it’s so quick.’

  Nave nodded. ‘A bluey. I’ve heard of them but never seen one before. I thought they had all but died out.’

  ‘Must be a throwback,’ Carna said. ‘If it doesn’t get the message we might have to kill it.’

  Leraine frowned. ‘Surely if we fire it a singed tail will be enough.’

  ‘It’s just a yearling, two at most,’ Korel agreed.

  Carna shook his head. ‘It seems to be drawn here. One of the young females is coming into its cycle and she might just be silly enough to mate with it. I don’t like it. The drakels’ arrival is only weeks away and the students are training out there in the valley. It’s a loner with no pod of its own and it’s too dangerous,’ he sighed then moved on to other business. ‘How are the firedrake looking, Val?’

  ‘We lost one of the greens,’ Val answered. ‘Gusta found the body at the base of the cliff.’ He shook his head. ‘Shame, but it was the weakest; one of the others might have attacked it, or the mother did.’

  Rella tutted. ‘Poor thing.’

  Val shrugged. ‘The runts never catch up enough to be able to carry a rider. The red is doing well, my lord.’

  ‘Good.’ Carna seemed pleased. ‘And it’s suitable?’

  ‘Yes, my lord. And the greens are good strong beasts.’ Report over, Val stabbed at the last potato left on the platter and waved it at Jaron, who shook his head. Val popped it in his mouth. Jaron was grateful for the silence that fell on the table as everyone polished off their plates. He wondered about the fresh vegetables and where they came from. The servants came to take away the dishes and one hovered near Lady Tarla’s half-eaten plate. She had gone off into a daze again. Rella smiled at the servant girl and handed her the plate before leaning across Lady Tarla and chatting with Leraine.

  ‘I thought the black velvet for the Selecting,’ Jaron’s mother said.

  Leraine disagreed. ‘No, black washes you out, Rella. Red or green, or what about the purple? It sets off your hair…’

  Jaron zoned out and looked over at Val, but the taciturn rider seemed content just to sit, turning his tankard idly in his hands. He took another sneaky sip of his ale while his mother was distracted, then felt Carna’s eyes on him.

  ‘Is there anything you want to ask me, Jaron?’

  Jaron thought he ought to come up with something and frantically tried to think of a suitable question for here. ‘Um, will the Raken have enough to eat over winter? If there’s no grain?’

  Carna nodded, seemingly pleased with the question. ‘We have stores, not enough to last the whole of the winter, but our riders are very good at foraging. There are roots we can collect and store and there is good hunting to be had from a firedrake’s back so there will be no shortage of meat,’ he paused. ‘Don’t worry, Jaron, we will not starve. Anyway, I rather suspect if the Ernots stage another raid then Lord Bell will be asking for our help again.’

  ‘But I thought you had sent more riders? Flick told me.’

  ‘Lord Bell sent them back – I suppose he wanted to show his displeasure.’

  Jaron nodded. ‘What is Rillion?’

  Carna frowned.

  ‘Lady Tarla mentioned Rillion blood? I thought Rillion was the first person to train a firedrake in old times, so what did she mean?’

  ‘I see you have been reading the book I gave you.’ He hesitated then sighed as though he had made up his mind about something at last. ‘Rillion isn’t only the name of the first Raken who realised we could utilise our enemy rather than being its prey. It is a gift; an ability.’

  ‘A gift?’

  ‘Well, an affinity if you like – it surpasses normal rider and firedrake relationship, it means becoming more like one. A sympathy with the firedrake. It’s very rare, very precious to the Raken people.’

  Carna waited, watching him digest this.

  Jaron thought it didn’t sound so very grand. After all, he had always been able to ‘think’ a feeling to animals, like to calm a nervous colt, or a barking dog, and that wasn’t really so special. He had found horses and dogs were pretty good at picking up signals from people, as were the kelpra. Perhaps it was just some tiny physical signal he unknowingly gave out, although he liked to fancy it was something more mysterious. But even Teel, who worked with animals, had sometimes been awed by his stepson’s ability. With a mental shrug Jaron went back to his ale while Rella and Leraine continued to talk dresses. Feeling slightly light-headed, he wondered about the event they were talking about. He supposed Selecting was the firedrake and rider partnering. He fervently hoped he wouldn’t be asked to take part.

  At last, Carna pushed his chair back and stood up. All conversation ceased at their table and chairs scraped back as all but Lady Tarla stood with him. Jaron felt the room spin a little. His head felt muzzy as well. He noticed the o
ld lady was still staring into space.

  ‘Rella,’ Carna extended his hand and she took it. ‘Goodnight to you all. Nave, we’ll do a sweep tomorrow of the forest for the migrating herds.’

  Nave nodded. ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Rella took Jaron’s arm, frowning at her son’s rather flushed cheeks. They walked slowly out of the hall that was now only half-full of diners still loitering over drinks as they chatted. Madrag appeared from the murky heights of the cave and wheeled down in lazy circles to pick them up.

  19

  Next morning, early, a loud knock made Jaron jump. ‘Come in,’ he looked to the curtain that covered the entrance but it didn’t pull aside. The knock came again, two sharp raps now, and he realised it was on the door to the outer ledge. Apprehensive, he limped over in his socks and opened the door a crack. Parl’s craggy face nodded at him.

  ‘Morning.’

  ‘Oh, hello sir.’

  ‘I thought we could get a lesson in for you early so you can catch up a bit to the other students.’ Channon’s eye came into view behind the old teacher’s shoulder, peering through the gap. A rumbling growl sounded. Parl grinned, revealing his missing front tooth. ‘Channon doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’

  ‘Oh, yes – I’ll just grab my things.’ Yet more flying.

  Jaron sat on the bed and pulled on his boots and gloves before grabbing his helmet and jacket off the bedside chair. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and stepped through the door. Parl had mounted and Jaron walked over, shrugging on his jacket and surprised to find he felt no hesitation today. She grumbled and he found himself smiling. ‘Good morning, Channon, sorry to keep you waiting.’