Rider's Revenge (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 1)

by Alessandra Clarke

  D'lan threw the baru over his shoulders and stared at her for a long moment. "There are other threats than the shifting sands, K'lrsa."

  He turned and walked away before she could say anything else.

  K'lrsa rode Fallion around the perimeter of the camp, no longer wanting anyone to see her. All the joy and excitement from earlier in the day was gone, fled along with the warmth of the sun.

  She knew what kind of guest her mother would have. Some boy who wanted to impress her, maybe even convince her to marry him at this year's annual gathering.

  She grimaced at the blood caked to her skin and clothes. The knees of her pants were so dirty they were almost gray and a white line of sweat followed the neckline of her vest. She took a surreptitious sniff under her arm and winced.

  When was the last time she'd taken a sweat bath? A week ago? Longer?

  She tried to shove the pieces of hair around her face back into her braid, but it was hopeless, the braid snarled and tangled beyond any chance of redemption.

  She shrugged.

  What did she care anyway? Not like it would be someone who interested her. She'd long since given up on that. When you were faster, a better shot, and smarter than all the boys you knew, it was hard to muster much interest in yet another eager but unsatisfactory prospect.

  If she could ever find a man like her father, she'd happily marry, but so far none were even close.

  She wouldn't give up the life of a Rider for anyone, but she did want to find someone. A true equal. Who wouldn't?

  Unfortunately, given her choices, that wasn't likely to happen. About as likely as Fallion suddenly taking off in flight. She patted his neck as she chuckled at the ridiculous image.

  She knew it wasn't worth trying any more. Too bad her mother didn't.

  Chapter 3

  K'lrsa took as much time as she could currying Fallion's coat, but there really wasn't all that much to do; even at his worst Fallion was far more presentable than she was at her best.

  At last, when she couldn't delay any longer, K'lrsa trudged towards her family tents, walking as slowly as she could without making it too obvious.

  Her four family tents, each dyed blue at the top and patterned with blue stars, surrounded a merry fire at the far edge of the camp. A pot hung over the flames; the delicious smell made her stomach grumble and reminded her that she hadn't eaten since morning.

  Three people sat around the fire, silent. K'lrsa's mother, still beautiful with her high cheekbones, pointed chin, and generous lips, stared into the fire, her jaw clenched in fury. Time and temperament had etched wrinkles around her eyes and forehead.

  Across from her sat M'lara—at eight summers old she was long and leggy and overflowing with energy. K'lrsa smiled as she noticed how hard M'lara was struggling to remain seated and quiet. She was a late-life surprise for K'lrsa's parents, but their pride and joy. K'lrsa's too. Already she was beautiful with her long black hair and eyes the color of dusk.

  For a moment K'lrsa hoped that the man silhouetted on the far side of the fire was her father, finally back from his trip to the Tall Bluff Tribe.

  But no. Her mother would never be so tense if he'd returned. The two were still like newlyweds, holding hands and staring longingly into one another's eyes whenever they had a chance. K'lrsa's mother always seemed to glow when he was around.

  K'lrsa paused in the shadows. She didn't want this. Not tonight. She'd pretend she'd never run into D'lan and go find her best friend, F'lia, instead. Let this man, whoever he was, leave before she crept home.

  "K'lrsa, don't be a fool. We know you're there," her mother called as she started to turn away.

  K'lrsa stepped forward into the firelight. M'lara ran to greet her. "K'lrsa! You're back. I was so worried about you. Mom said maybe the desert had taken you. Or a big desert cat. Or raiders."

  K'lrsa met her mother's eyes across the fire. "Have you no faith in me at all?"

  Her mother shrugged. "It's a dangerous world out there, K'lrsa."

  "Well I'm just fine, thanks." Before she could say more, their visitor stood to greet her.

  G'van of the Black Horse Tribe. The last man she wanted to see. Ever.

  He was beautiful, no doubt about it, with his bronze-colored skin and green eyes. And tall and muscular and a first son and…

  And no doubt that he knew just how beautiful he was.

  He ran his hand through the long black hair that he wore down like a musician instead of tied back like the Rider he supposedly was. Probably expected her to swoon at his feet. Arrogant, vain fool. How he'd ever passed the Rider's Challenge, she didn't know. He probably couldn't survive a day in the desert, let alone a week.

  She fought the urge to step back from the cloying scent of flowers that wafted her way as he approached. What kind of a man scented himself with flowers?

  "Your mother was about to send me out to rescue you." He smiled down at her, standing far too close.

  "Like you'd be any help." She dropped her saddle by her tent and stepped around him.

  "K'lrsa," her mother hissed.

  K'lrsa served herself a heaping bowl of stew and sat down next to M'lara. "Well, as you can both see, I managed just fine myself, thank you."

  She wanted to take off the sweaty, bloody vest, but she didn't dare with G'van there watching her. If it had just been family around the cook fire she would've thought nothing about stripping off the vest until she'd finished eating, but she didn't need G'van eyeing her like a prized mare he wanted to mount; no more than he already was.

  Most men of the tribes ignored a woman's nakedness, but G'van had picked up bad habits from his friends in the neighboring Daliphate. The way he stared at her sometimes made her decidedly uncomfortable.

  The bowl of millet with rabbit meat and sour greens smelled delicious. Her stomach grumbled loudly into the silence. K'lrsa could feel everyone's eyes on her, but she ignored them.

  She shoved a spoonful of stew into her mouth and immediately spat it back out. "What did you put in this?" She scraped at her tongue to remove the bitter, awful taste.

  "Salt." G'van sat down across from her. "I brought it for you. As a gift."

  He nodded towards a small pile of items arrayed on a cloth near her mother. K'lrsa could see a bolt of green silk displayed proudly on top. What did she need with silk? She was a warrior not some spoiled woman of the Daliphate.

  "Ugh. Why?" She didn't really expect or want an answer.

  "Salt is precious." G'van stared at her like she was simple. "It's one of the most in-demand trade goods in the Daliphate. Men pay gold for it. Lots of it."

  "Really? Why?" K'lrsa took a long drink of water from her waterskin and swished it around her mouth, trying to remove the taste of the vile substance. It almost worked.

  "K'lrsa…" Her mother's tone was a warning.

  "Well, honestly, mother. He brings all these…things…to impress me and he clearly doesn't know the first thing about me. Silk? Salt?" She turned to G'van. "You want to win my affection, bring me a bow. Bring me hunting leathers. Or sugar cubes for my horse." She turned back to her mother. "Is this really who you'd have me marry?"

  G'van lurched to his feet. "I brought you gifts any real woman would treasure. But you can't see that, can you? You think you're better than everyone. Well, you're not."

  He glared down at her, his hands clenched in fists. "You should be flattered I'd even think of marrying you. You'd be lucky to have me. Who else wants a stinky, dirty girl more interested in riding her horse than a man?"

  K'lrsa leapt to her feet and slapped him.

  G'van clutched at his face, his eyes flat black as he glared down at her. "You're going to end up old and alone if you aren't careful, K'lrsa."

  "I'd rather end up old and alone than with someone like you." She stood toe to toe with him, glaring into those angry black eyes, her hands clenched into fists at her side, daring him to attack her.

  He stepped away, shaking his head in disgust as he grabbed his saddle b
ags. "You'll beg me to take you one day. You'll see. I'm going to rule the tribes and then you'll come crawling on your belly to me, offering me anything just to look at you."

  K'lrsa laughed. "In your dreams, G'van. No man rules the tribes."

  He stared at her for a long moment before replying with complete sincerity. "I will someday. Times are changing. The tribes need a strong man to show them the path to the future."

  She shivered. He really believed it.

  She shook her head. "The only place you'd lead the tribes is to ruin and destruction. My father would never let that happen."

  "Is that so?" G'van stared at her for a long moment, a sneer curling his lip. The shadows cast by the fire made him look like a demon. "You think your father's going to stop me?" He laughed and shook his head.

  K'lrsa felt a chill down her spine as G'van disappeared into the darkness.

  Chapter 4

  The rest of dinner was an awkward painful experience with K'lrsa's mother glaring across the fire at her and K'lrsa focusing all her effort on choking down the over-salted bowl of food.

  How hard was it for a man to actually see her? To see who she was and what she wanted instead of assuming that she wanted what every girl must want?

  She glared over at the pile of silks and trinkets. F'lia would love everything there.

  But K'lrsa wasn't F'lia.

  F'lia was a healer and an artist. She loved pretty things and was soft and kind.

  K'lrsa was a hunter. A warrior. She loved her horse and the thrill of the hunt and the good, honest sweat of pushing herself to her physical limits.

  Just once, she wanted a man who could see that.

  After she managed to choke down enough food to calm her hunger, K'lrsa went to bed. It was still early, but there was no point in sitting across the fire from her mother for another moment.

  She dreamed that night, a dream unlike any she'd ever experienced before. It was so real, so vivid, everything more intense than the world she knew. The colors were sharper, the scents stronger; the wind felt like a hand actually caressing her skin.

  She found herself in the deep, deep desert. She'd never been there before, but she recognized it nonetheless.

  It was the darkest time before dawn, but she could somehow see every detail. The Lady Moon shone bright and full in the sky above, surrounded by so many stars they almost filled the sky.

  K'lrsa walked barefoot across the soft sand as it shifted and slid beneath her, as if alive.

  A great city rose before her. Empty, desolate. It waited, watching her.

  Nothing lived here. No animal. No plant. She knew this without looking.

  This place was like an empty vessel, waiting to be filled.

  She jumped when she heard the sound of another behind her. His soft steps boomed like thunder in the silence as he made his way to her side.

  He studied her as she studied him. His shirt was the most brilliant blue she'd ever seen, like someone had taken the sky of a midsummer day and captured it in cloth. It matched his eyes. His pants were striped in more colors than she'd ever seen in one place at one time—red, orange, yellow, black, white, green, and blue.

  He was young, like her, his skin a beautiful golden brown, his hair as black as the blackest night.

  He smiled at her and raised an eyebrow. She blushed as she glanced down to see that she wore the garments of the Moon Dance—long, flowing strips of cloth that moved as if blown by a soft breeze.

  They didn't speak, but she knew in that moment that this man was the one she'd sought.

  An equal. A man who would challenge but respect her. Who could love her softness but support her strength.

  He held out his hand and she took it. That first touch sent fire coursing through her skin.

  They walked towards the distant city, but with each step it seemed to grow more and more distant.

  And then he was gone and so was the city.

  A woman stood before K'lrsa, so bright and beautiful K'lrsa couldn't look directly at her.

  "One day perhaps, my child. But not yet." The woman's voice was soft, loving, the embodiment of motherhood.

  "When?" K'lrsa stared into the distance where the city had stood.

  The woman's laughter was refreshing and cool, like water trickling over rocks. "Don't you want to know the path you'd have to take, first? Perhaps it's a path you would choose not to tread."

  K'lrsa raised her chin and tried to look the Lady Moon in the face, but had to squint her eyes against the woman's shining presence. "I'm a Rider. I can walk any path. I can overcome any obstacle."

  For just the briefest moment, K'lrsa saw sad eyes watching her with irises as deep and vast as the night sky. "I have no doubt you can, my child. But there's a difference between being able to face any challenge and wanting to face it."

  "So tell me of this path, then, if you think it would be so challenging."

  The woman laughed again. "So fierce, so proud." She glanced towards the horizon. "Unfortunately, my husband rises soon and I must leave. You and your mate will meet here again another night."

  As she started to fade away with the rising sun, the Lady Moon added, "Take what joy you can while you can K'lrsa dan V'na of the White Horse Tribe. The storm gathers."

  K'lrsa awoke to the memory of thunder and the quiet of her tent. She stared at the point in the ceiling where baru hides intersected to form a peak and stroked the moon stone around her neck, feeling its lingering warmth as it faded from a brilliant blue back to its usual dull gray.

  She'd proven herself yesterday, and now the Lady Moon had come to her.

  To her, K'lrsa dan V'na of the White Horse Tribe.

  She smiled in the darkness as she waited for dawn so she could find her father. He'd know what she should do next.

  Chapter 5

  K'lrsa left camp immediately after breakfast. Her father was already two days late returning from a visit to the Tall Bluff Tribe, but she wasn't worried about him. He was too smart and strong for anything to ever happen to him.

  She rode throughout the day, enjoying the time alone with Fallion. It was a cooler day, the sun hidden behind clouds for most of it.

  The path she followed wove through a small grove of trees—such a rarity she slowed Fallion down, running her hand along the rough bark of each skinny trunk, marveling that anything could stand taller than her on horseback.

  Once they were past the trees and under the wide open sky, she let Fallion gallop, laughing as they sped across the wide open plains, the wind whipping her hair from her face as a small flock of birds took flight ahead.

  When she finally saw her father in the distance, she paused. He rode slowly, his shoulders slumped, staring at the spot between his horse's ears. For a moment, she thought it wasn't her father, that someone had stolen his horse. The man she saw wasn't the powerful, confident man she knew.

  But it was her father. Up close she saw that the changes ran deeper. His face had always been creased with wrinkles from long years of living under the desert sun, but they'd always been lines of happiness. Now faint worry lines creased his forehead and pulled at the edges of his eyes.

  He'd aged ten years in ten days.

  "What happened? Didn't they listen to you?" She reined Fallion around to fall into place at his side.

  He shook his head, staring off into the distance. "I didn't even try. How could I?"

  She reached out and forced him to stop. "What are you talking about?"

  He stared into her eyes for a moment and she saw such sorrow and despair that she almost cried. "They were just as bad, K'lrsa. Just like the cursed Black Horse Tribe. The first night I was there, they passed around a clear liquid, fire ice they called it. It burned the throat and altered the senses. Men who drank it passed out at the fire, unable to stumble to their tents. And the ones that weren't drinking were lost in the haze of smokeweed. And the things they talked about…"

  He shook his head and urged his horse forward, hands clenched tight to his re
ins.

  K'lrsa trailed along behind him. "But…you could still try, couldn't you?"

  Sunlight shone off the gray streaks in his dark hair. When had her father grown old?

  "With another tribe, perhaps. There have to be some that are untainted." He ran a hand through his hair. "I have to keep trying. If we allow this corruption to spread, the tribes will die. And then who will protect the Hidden City?"

  He shook his head and stared ahead, lost somewhere she couldn't see. "We've grown soft, K'lrsa. We forget what the desert is really like. You can never let down your guard. Never assume you're safe."

  He turned his attention to the distant mountains as if he could see the foreign men who lived there. "It's their fault, but ours, too. The men of the Daliphate may have brought this corruption to us, but we embraced it."

  They rode for a long time in silence as her father clenched and unclenched his jaw. Finally, he shook his head and forced a smile.

  "Enough of these troubles. What of you? What have you been up to while I was gone? Did your mother manage to marry you off yet?"

  K'lrsa grimaced. "She tried. G'van of the Black Horse Tribe came again last night offering me silks and salt."

  Her father laughed. "That arrogant little fool doesn't know the first thing about wooing my desert cat, does he?"

  The sound of his laugh was like sunshine peeking out from behind clouds. K'lrsa couldn't help but smile back at him. "No, he doesn't. And, well…" She blushed. "I kind of told him as much."

  Her father nodded. "Good. You can do better than him."

  K'lrsa wanted to tell her father what G'van had said about ruling the tribes one day, but she didn't want to see his face cloud over again, so instead she told him about the baru.

  Her father stopped his horse and pulled her close for a fierce hug. "Well done, K'lrsa. I'm so proud of you."

  All her disappointment from the night before melted away when she saw the love shining in his eyes.