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

by Alessandra Clarke

  They spent the rest of the day talking about the hunt. Her father wanted to know every single detail. He made her go back and repeat everything two or even three times, nodding his head in approval. Once more he was the man she knew—confident, intelligent, and certain of the future.

  When they finally stopped for the night, he grasped her hand in the Rider's clasp. "I'm proud of you, K'lrsa. You're a true Rider. Never let anyone question that or take that away from you."

  Her cheeks hurt from the smile that spread across her cheeks. She knew this was a serious moment and a Rider should be reserved at such times, but she didn't care. She sprang forward and hugged him. "Thank you, Dad."

  He always knew just what to say. She didn't know what she'd do if she ever lost him.

  Chapter 6

  As K'lrsa and her father sat by the fire, eating roasted hare and enjoying the stillness of a night alone on the plains, her father sank back into brooding, his gaze fixed on the leaping flames. The distant sound of a night bird hunting and the crackle of the fire were the only sounds.

  The moon rode high in the sky, but she was just a fraction of herself. Soon she'd retreat for a few nights to spend time with her husband, Father Sun, before returning and growing towards fullness once more.

  K'lrsa smelled a thunderstorm on the breeze and watched as lightning lit up the far horizon, followed a few moments later by the sound of thunder. She touched her moon stone, wondering if the storm would reach them and they'd be wet and miserable for the rest of the night, but no, the storm would pass them by.

  Finally, her father spoke into the silence. "They've betrayed us, K'lrsa."

  "Who?"

  He took a long swallow from the skin of fermented mare's milk at his side. He hardly ever drank, but tonight he'd had enough to slur his words and make him sway slightly. "The Black Horse Tribe." He stared at her. "Do you know what they've done?"

  K'lrsa didn't dare speak; she just shook her head.

  "They led traders across the desert."

  K'lrsa gasped. No. No one of the tribes would do that. Would they? Protecting the desert was core to who the tribes were.

  "For four hundred years we've protected the desert and they just throw it away. And for what? Gold? Silk?" He spat to the side, the most deadly insult she knew.

  "Are you sure?"

  He stared into the flames for a long time before continuing. "Do you want to know what's worse?"

  What was worse than leading strangers across the desert? She licked her lips, waiting for him to continue.

  "They're trading in slaves."

  Her father was normally a gentle man. A capable warrior, yes, but one who sought peace and compromise first. Not tonight.

  He snarled as he said, "It's not enough to censure them. We have to cut them out. Remove the infection before it destroys us all. We have to expel them." He took another long drink and glared at the fire.

  K'lrsa grabbed his arm. "No, father. It can't be as bad as that. If you cut them out of the tribes, they'll be lost. The Black Horse Tribe doesn't have any plains land left. All they have is desert. If you expel them, they'll be forever lost in the shifting sands. No one deserves that."

  He stared at her for a long moment. "We have to, K'lrsa. It's our only hope. We have to expel the Black Horse Tribe and cut off all ties with the Daliphate before they ruin us all."

  She shivered. She wouldn't wish expulsion on anyone. Not even G'van.

  "What of the innocents? Surely not everyone in the tribe is corrupt."

  Her father gave her a long look as if he'd dispute her claim, but then he shrugged and looked away. "Let them join other tribes then. Or let them run to the Daliph and beg him for shelter. He's the cause of this poison after all. Him and his need for trade."

  "Dad…"

  He shook off her hold. "Enough. I won't be swayed. This is what must happen."

  Her father stalked away into the night, leaving K'lrsa alone with the dying embers of the fire. She shivered as she watched him disappear into the darkness.

  G'van was right. Times were changing.

  Chapter 7

  Two weeks later, K'lrsa ate her breakfast in silence as her parents talked about the annual gathering. It had taken her father days to convince the other leaders of the tribe to agree to his plan, but finally they'd voted to recommend expulsion of the Black Horse Tribe at the next annual gathering.

  He was still trying to convince them to cut ties with the Daliphate, but that wasn't likely to happen. No one wanted to sacrifice the luxuries that eased their daily lives.

  The light and gaiety her parents normally shared was gone, replaced with a lingering sense of dread. Even though no one was nearby, they spoke in tense whispers, glancing around as if they expected enemies to jump from behind a tent at any moment.

  Their fears were justified.

  Two nights before, the camp had been attacked. L'ral, F'lia's intended, had surprised the attackers in the middle of the night as he made his way to the privy area, so they hadn't done as much damage as they could have, but everyone was on edge knowing how close they'd been.

  It was men from the Daliphate. L'ral had managed to take a scrap of green and blue striped cloth from one of the men. He'd waved it around as he described how he'd struggled with the men, desperately trying to save as many horses as he could, but finally been felled by a shallow sword slice to the ribs and a knock to the head.

  Ten horses had been stolen that night. Almost a fifth of the horses in camp.

  At least no one had been killed, but it was only a matter of time. She could see that thought lurking in her parents' eyes as they watched her.

  How would the tribes, used to hundreds of years of peace, defend themselves against the men of the Daliphate with their gleaming swords and violent ways?

  Her father had sent a party of Riders, led by D'lan, after them, but the Riders had yet to return. They should have by now.

  K'lrsa had wanted to go, but her father refused. He said he wouldn't risk both of his children at once.

  That's what he said, but she knew the truth. He didn't really believe in her.

  She ate her meal in sullen silence and chafed at the fact that she was no longer allowed to leave camp. Fallion was just as restless as she was. He strained against his tether when she visited him each day.

  She was trying to figure out how to convince her father to let her go for a ride when L'ral ran up to their fire, gasping for breath.

  "What is it?" Her father set aside the bowl of grains he hadn't really been eating.

  "Men. To the east. At least ten of them. More of the Daliph's men."

  Her father exchanged a worried glance with her mother. "Gather the remaining Riders," he said to L'ral.

  L'ral nodded and ran away.

  "Oh, B'nin. Is this wise? Do you have enough Riders to fight them if you catch them?"

  He pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. "I'd rather meet them in the desert than have them attack you, V'na. Don't worry. I'll come back to you."

  K'lrsa looked away. She wished someday she'd find the love and passion her parents shared, but until then seeing them together just reminded her of everything she didn't have in her own life.

  Well, at least not outside her dreams. She'd dreamt of the young man twice more since that first dream. They couldn't talk, but they didn't need to. More words than they could exchange in a lifetime passed between them with each glance or touch.

  As L'ral's voice rose in the high ki-ki-ki of the Rider's call, K'lrsa stood. "I just need to get my bow and then I'll meet you at the horse lines."

  Her father stared at her for a long moment, frozen.

  "B'nin…" Her mother grabbed at his hand.

  He clasped her hand in his. "I know, V'na." He took a deep breath. "K'lrsa…"

  K'lrsa knew that look.

  She backed away, shaking her head. "No. No, Dad. You can't do this to me. Not again. I'm a Rider. Let me come with you!"

  He stood and held
his hands out as if she was a skittish horse. "Calm down, K'lrsa. I need you to listen to me. You have to stay here. What happens if the raiders get past us? I need someone I trust to protect your mother and sister and all the others who aren't fighters."

  K'lrsa scoffed. "Oh, please. The only reason I'm the best shot of all the Riders is because mom quit when she married you. She doesn't need me to protect her. And neither do most of the women in the tribe."

  Her father smiled slightly. "Your mother is a pretty good shot. But what about M'lara? Or F'lia? Who will protect them?"

  She crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him. "Someone else. Anyone else. Have L'ral stay behind. He's going to marry F'lia, let him protect her."

  Her father shook his head and grabbed her shoulders. He stared deep into her eyes. "Please, K'lrsa. You're the only one I trust to do this. Please. Do this for me."

  When she still wouldn't answer, he continued, "These are dangerous times, K'lrsa. I need my Riders to obey my orders without hesitation. Now, are you a Rider? Will you obey your leader? Or are you a child who must have her own way no matter what's best?"

  K'lrsa pulled away. "Fine. I'll stay." She couldn't stop the tear that rolled down her cheek.

  Her father pulled her into a fierce embrace and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you."

  "I love you, too," she mumbled.

  She pulled away and disappeared into her tent without looking at him again.

  She threw herself down on her sleeping roll and closed her eyes, covering her ears to the sound of the real Riders leaving camp.

  Chapter 8

  K'lrsa paced to the edge of camp and stared into the distance, looking for any sign of the Riders returning. They'd been gone a full day now.

  Her stomach rumbled, but she couldn't bring herself to eat.

  They should be back by now. They should've been back the day before.

  She sat down in front of her tent and started to mend her oldest hunting vest, but then sprang to her feet again a moment later to once more look for the Riders.

  "Enough, K'lrsa. Sit down," her mother said.

  K'lrsa clutched the moon stone around her neck. It felt almost hot. Her sense of urgency increased as she held it. "Don't you feel it, Mom? Something is wrong. I have to go find them."

  Her mother frowned, her lips pursed together as she glanced to the side where M'lara watched them, her arms wrapped tight around her legs. "No, K'lrsa. You need to stay here and protect me and your sister. That was what your father ordered you to do."

  K'lrsa paced in front of the tent. As a Rider she should obey his orders without question.

  But something was wrong. She just knew it.

  Her mother continued to pick at the seams of an old dress.

  K'lrsa shook her head as she stared at the empty horizon once more. "No. I have to go. You'll be fine."

  "And what of F'lia? Would you see your best friend murdered because you couldn't follow your father's orders?"

  K'lrsa glanced towards F'lia's tents, picturing her bright and gentle friend trying to defend herself from attackers. She didn't want something to happen to her.

  But something was wrong. She knew it.

  "They should've been back by now, Mom."

  Her mother shrugged, but it didn't hide the tension in her shoulders. "Maybe the raiders fled and they gave chase."

  "Or maybe the raiders chased them and they're hiding somewhere right now, fighting for their lives, and I could find them and save them."

  M'lara buried her face in her knees, her small shoulders shaking.

  K'lrsa's mother dropped her hands into her lap. "Oh, K'lrsa, enough. You aren't the Moon Maiden reborn. You're just a young girl like I was. Good with a bow and a solid member of the tribe, but not some legendary hero. You aren't going to save anyone. Sit down and wait like the rest of us."

  K'lrsa stared at her mother as tears filled her eyes.

  She stared down at the ground and tried to master herself. She was a Rider and Riders didn't cry. Crying just proved her mother right.

  No one else might believe it, but she knew in her heart that she could help.

  Better than sitting here in camp waiting for them to finally return.

  If they ever did…

  "Sit, K'lrsa."

  She shook her head. No. She couldn’t wait another moment. It might already be too late. She grabbed her gear and strode away toward Fallion.

  "K'lrsa, you get back here right now," her mother called. K'lrsa kept walking.

  Something was wrong. She had to find the Riders before it was too late.

  She'd deal with her mother when everyone was safely back at camp.

  Chapter 9

  Following their path across the plains was easy. Even on dusty ground, ten horses riding at full speed left enough of a trail for even a young child to see.

  She urged Fallion to go as fast as possible, the feeling that something was wrong drove her forward. In her gut she knew she was already too late, that whatever evil had befallen them had already happened.

  But she had to try. She had to keep going until she knew for sure.

  When they reached the desert, the trail disappeared, victim of the shifting sands that kept the desert's secrets. Legend called the shifting sands a blessing from the Lady Moon—a gift to the tribes in exchange for their vow to protect the Hidden City. But that time was long lost in the shadow of history. All she or any other tribe member knew was that even though there was never a breeze—at least none that a rider on horseback could feel—if a man stopped for a drink he could watch his footsteps slowly disappear as if he'd never existed.

  Many a stranger had been lost in the desert, with no idea which may to turn, their bones buried under the shifting sands.

  She clutched her moon stone, confident in its protection. As a first daughter of a first daughter going back to the beginning, she was protected, safe as long as she kept her moon stone.

  She rode forward, looking in every direction, but saw nothing except empty desert.

  The sun beat down and reflected off the sands until she felt like a pot fired in a clay oven, all moisture drained from her body.

  She and Fallion rode throughout the day, looking and searching, but saw nothing. No men and no signs of their passage.

  As the sun lowered towards the horizon, Fallion stumbled as his head dipped yet again. She gave him some of the water from her last water skin, wishing she'd taken the time to prepare better, to remember that she was riding into the desert where a man could die in the space of a candlemark if he wasn't careful.

  She turned Fallion in a circle. Sand and azure sky in every direction, not even a desert hawk visible. Heat waves blurred the mountains on the far horizon.

  The Riders were gone as if they'd never existed.

  In despair, she reached for the moon stone around her neck. "Lady Moon, Protector, Mother, Shelter. Show me where my father is. Please, I beg of you, guide me to his side through the harsh land of your husband and away from the mischief of your son."

  She'd expected the pendant to glow with a cool blue light like it did when she sought shelter in the desert, but instead it pulsed the color of dried blood and a compulsion like a physical presence pushed her north.

  Fallion started forward without prompting, stumbling as fast as he could through his exhaustion.

  K'lrsa tried to slow him, to turn away from the path the moon stone demanded, but her body wouldn't obey her. Each time she tried, she found herself urging Fallion to go faster instead.

  As the sun painted the distant horizon with blood, they raced onward.

  Chapter 10

  As they crested yet another nondescript sand dune, the sun dipped below the distant mountains and the sky darkened towards night.

  K'lrsa prayed they were close. Not only did she fear that something truly awful had happened to her father and the other Riders, but she knew that she couldn't continue through the twilight hours between when the sun set and the moon
rose.

  Those hours belonged to the Trickster. Anyone wandering the desert during the between time was best off staying in the spot they'd been in when darkness fell. Men had been known to try to push through to their destination only to find themselves leagues from where they'd been when darkness fell and nowhere nearer their destination. Even torches couldn't protect men when the Trickster wandered the sands.

  As they plodded forward, Fallion so exhausted his head hung down to the ground, a grel cried out and lumbered into the air, heavy with food. She saw at least three more clustered around a shape on the ground.

  Part of her wanted to stop, to turn away and go home. But Fallion continued his slow but relentless pace and she found herself whispering in his ear, urging him forward.

  "Almost there, micora." She was so numb she couldn't even cry as she saw that the shape was a body dressed in White Horse colors.

  She dropped to the ground, steadying herself against Fallion's side as her legs threatened to collapse under her. She had to see. She had to know who it was.

  The grel raised their heads to glare at her, their sharp beaks coated in fresh red blood.

  "Go! Leave!" She stumbled towards them. They screamed at her, the stench of death wafting through the air, but they backed away, moving on to another shape almost buried under the desert sand. A horse from what she could see.

  She clutched the pendant at her throat and felt its pulsing warmth as she closed the distance to the body. She prayed it wasn't her father even though she knew it would be someone she loved.

  She collapsed in relief and despair when she saw L'ral's face.

  He was still wearing the bracelet F'lia had made to celebrate their engagement. The bright red, green, and yellow threads had cost her a small fortune. She'd had to trade five of her most-prized pots for just those three small strands of silk. But she'd done so happily and woven into each knot her love of the man she planned to marry.