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

by Alessandra Clarke

  "Well, now that that's settled. What to do with the rest of you?" Herin surveyed the room, pivoting slowly to look at each person.

  She stopped on Harley, who immediately dropped to his knees, hands clasped before him. "I'm sorry, Herin. I am. I didn't tell anyone. It was…" He glanced around the room. "She told, not me."

  Herin glared down at him, arms crossed across her chest. "I told you to go and not come back. I told you to go and keep going until you found the end of the world. Did you find the end of the world, Harley?"

  He bit his lip. "No. I…we couldn't keep going. The northern lands are so cold and desolate and no one speaks trader's tongue, and…Men died, Herin. I had to. I had to come back." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry, Herin. I, I made a mistake. But it's over now. It won't happen again."

  "You're right. It won't." She flicked her eyes at the guard behind Harley; the man stepped forward and slit Harley's throat.

  K'lrsa gasped. She backed away, but there was nowhere to go. Herin's guards blocked the entrance.

  The cold stone walls seemed to be collapsing in on her, moving closer and closer with each panicked breath.

  Herin turned her attention to Barkley. He met her gaze and threw his shoulders back. K'lrsa was surprised that Herin was just as tall as Barkley—she had to be as tall as any woman K'lrsa had ever met. (Other than Lodie that was.)

  Barkley held his own, but he had a resigned look like he knew what was coming.

  Herin tilted her head to the side, studying him. "Heard enough to guess? Or already knew?"

  Barkley took a deep breath. "Already knew. I joined Harley in Crossroads on the way out, but I'm from Toreem. I…I used to help my father with the brickwork around the palace when I was young." He met her eyes. "I saw…too much."

  Herin nodded and turned her attention to K'lrsa. K'lrsa wanted to look anywhere but into Herin's black eyes, but she forced herself to meet the woman's gaze. If she was going to die, she'd do so as a Rider, not a sniveling coward.

  Herin smirked.

  "And you…foolish child who just destroyed the lives of four men because you don't know enough to keep your mouth shut."

  She stepped forward, the spices on her breath overpowering the stink and decay K'lrsa had smelled before. "I should kill you." She smiled. "I want to kill you."

  She pursed her lips together until her eyes almost disappeared behind her wrinkles. "Unfortunately, I have no idea what that fool of a boy would do if I did. Then again, he'll probably make just as many foolish mistakes if I let you live." She shook her head. "Men. Ridiculous how easily they let a pretty face ruin their lives."

  K'lrsa glanced at Barkley, but he was staring down at the floor.

  Herin fingered the hilt of the blade strapped at her waist for a long moment as everyone waited in tense silence.

  "Pzah." She let the blade drop back into its sheath. "Some lines even I won't cross. Doesn't mean I have to do anything other than keep you alive, though."

  She turned to the man in green. "Kill them all except the girl."

  He nodded and the men in white stepped forward, knives flashing as they attacked the prison guards and the other prisoners.

  Barkley didn't move as the man in green raised his sword to kill him.

  "No." K'lrsa grabbed at his knife arm, but Herin pulled her away, her fingers like claws, her grip so strong K'lrsa felt as powerless as an infant. She shoved K'lrsa against the wall of the passageway. "Don't be a fool, girl. It's been a bloody enough day already."

  K'lrsa tried to shove past Herin to go to Barkley's side—he was already down, there really wasn't a point—but the man in green stepped forward and rapped her on the temple with his knife hilt.

  The last thing she saw as she collapsed to the cold stone floor and her world turned black, was Barkley's vacant-eyed stare. Her only friend was dead.

  She was all alone again.

  Chapter 47

  K'lrsa awoke in a large four-poster bed draped in blue and red gauzy fabric that blew in the breeze from a nearby open window. The scent of summer flowers floated on the air—unnatural with winter so close. Underneath the pleasantness of the flowers was the slightest hint of what K'lrsa had come to think of as "city stench"—the combined odor of garbage, people, and animals shoved together in too small a space.

  She didn't move, unsure where she was or who might be nearby. She sent a small prayer of thanks to the Lady Moon that she was still alive and not chained in a darkened cell somewhere.

  Badru's voice reached her from across the room. "It's done."

  "Pzah, you foolish boy. You don't understand." Herin hissed the words, clearly wanting to shout. "She will ruin you. We have to get her away. Now."

  "No."

  "Badru."

  "No. I dreamt of her. She was sent to me. I won't be parted from her now that I've found her."

  K'lrsa tried to shift slightly to see them, but the bed creaked and she froze once more. Badru and Herin fell silent.

  K'lrsa held her breath, waiting, hoping they wouldn't come to see if she was awake.

  "Pzah. You'd risk it all for a dream? Nothing but a boy's fancy." Herin paused and K'lrsa could picture her scrunching her lips together in disgust. "Some days you're no better than him, taking what you want without any thought for the consequences."

  Badru's voice was ice when he responded. "You forget yourself, Omala. Don’t you ever compare me to him again."

  The silence stretched for what seemed like forever, the room full of tension. Finally, Herin spoke again, softly. "Fine. She stays. But you can't just throw a girl of the tribes into the Daliph's court. She must be prepared."

  "Then prepare her."

  A door opened and a gust of wind blew the curtains up so K'lrsa could see Badru standing in the doorway, clothed in a rainbow of color—his vest a blue that matched his eyes perfectly, his pants striped in every color she could imagine, and a red belt tied around his waist.

  Herin faced him in her loose black dress; the man in green leaned against the wall next to her, silent as always.

  The curtain fell back, blocking her view once more.

  "Badru. I'll do this. But you must promise me one thing."

  "What?" He didn't sound like he wanted to promise anything.

  "You won't attempt to see her again. Not until I tell you you can."

  K'lrsa willed Badru to refuse. And for a moment, as the silence stretched, it seemed like he would. But then he said, "So be it. But make it soon. Now that I've found her, I won't take kindly to any lengthy delays."

  K'lrsa heard the door close.

  "Pzah. Foolish boy. He'll get us all killed. And for what? Love?" She barked a short laugh, the sound like grating rocks. "We have to stop this, Garzel. Save him from himself."

  There was a small grunt of agreement. K'lrsa pushed the curtain aside to see them.

  Herin stood in Garzel's embrace, her head leaning against his chest. She looked exhausted. Garzel stroked her hair softly. His shoulders were stooped and face just as weary as hers. They looked in that moment like they were propping each other up, both ready to collapse without the other's support.

  K'lrsa was embarrassed to have witnessed such a personal moment, but before she could turn away, Herin saw her.

  "I shoud've killed you when I had the chance."

  She left the room and Garzel followed.

  Chapter 48

  K'lrsa explored her room. It was large, larger than any room she'd ever been in, even the main rooms of the inns they'd stayed at on the way.

  There were four windows, currently open to allow a breeze; a box of brightly colored flowers hanging just outside each one provided the scent of summer. The windows could be latched closed with wooden shutters—one pair each in red, blue, green, and yellow—that were currently fastened by hooks to the outside wall.

  The room was three or four stories above a paved courtyard—high enough that K'lrsa felt dizzy when she looked down. There was nothing between her and the distant ground except
empty air. Other windows were open in the rooms that surrounded the space, but there were no people visible.

  A mountain rose above the rooms opposite her. Its shadow stretched across the courtyard like a grasping hand.

  Harley and Barkley were dead because of her. Because of what she'd said. And Reginald, too.

  She shivered at the chill breeze. She didn't really care about Reginald. He would've harmed her given the chance. And Harley was planning to sell her off to other men who would hurt her. But Barkley…Barkley had been her friend. He'd tried to help her.

  And now he was gone and she didn't understand what was happening and the only person who seemed to care for her, Badru, was banned from seeing her. And Herin, the woman who should've helped her, wanted her dead.

  K'lrsa shook the thoughts away. She'd made it this far. She was in Toreem. And in the Daliph's own palace. All she had to do now was find him and kill him.

  One moment, that's all she needed.

  She tried the door, but it was locked, so she explored the rest of the room.

  The far end of the room contained the four-poster bed wrapped in bright, light fabrics. It could easily fit four people abreast with room at the end for two or three more.

  Opposite that was a large bathing area hidden behind a stone half-wall that contained a large tub, a basin for washing, and a floor-to-ceiling mirror.

  K'lrsa stripped out of the loose blue dress they'd given her.

  Naked, she stared at herself in the mirror for a long time. She'd never seen herself in more than a small handheld mirror her mother owned—a treasured possession her mother almost never allowed her to use—so she'd never seen more than a glimpse of part of her face before. Maybe just an eye or her lips.

  She'd never seen it all together.

  And she'd certainly never seen her entire body, never known what others saw when they looked at her.

  She'd always known she was attractive, of course, just from the way men responded to her, even in the tribes. Their mouths would broadened into smiles when she approached or they'd stop to help her string her bow or give her special treats they'd bartered for from the traders.

  There'd even been one trader who broke into a jaunty tune every time he saw her. But she'd never known what the men who eyed her so appreciatively were actually seeing.

  Now she did.

  She saw what they saw. Long legs, toned and muscular. The curve of hips leading to a narrow waist. Well-formed breasts—not as much as many women, but definitely a woman's curves, and enough to fill a man's hand. Black hair that fell loose in soft waves and was long enough to cover her breasts when pulled forward.

  The high cheekbones, pointed chin, generous lips, and large brown eyes were a distant echo of her mother's.

  Yes. She understood now what men saw in her. But it didn't matter. It didn't change who she was.

  She was still just K'lrsa.

  She turned away and threw the dress back on.

  It didn't change anything and she had better things to do than stare at her reflection all day.

  But she did catch herself glancing back at the mirror often, fascinated by her own expressions.

  The rest of the room consisted of a large sitting area with cushions and low tables arranged in a circle atop a large carpet woven in a pattern of reds, blues, greens, yellows, and oranges with room for at least a dozen people to sit comfortably.

  In the corner was another mirror, this one attached to a table with a chair in front of it. On the table were jars and brushes. K'lrsa opened a few of the jars, but they made her feel ill, the scents were so overpowering and bitter. She put them back and resolved to stay away from them.

  Bored, she banged on the door and shouted, but no one came.

  K'lrsa sat on a narrow stone bench under the central window and stared outside, listening to the sounds of Toreem. Even though she couldn't see the city, it was alive in the scents and sounds that found their way to her window.

  She wished her room faced the plain and Boradol so she could catch a glimpse of home.

  She longed to be back there, bickering with her mother about her latest unsuitable suitor or playing hoops with her sister.

  She missed the feel of the sun baking her skin and the sight of baru stampeding across the plains. And the fresh smell that lingered in the air after a storm passed.

  She buried her face against her knees, aching for what she'd lost.

  She forced herself to think of her father, to remember why she was here. It was hard. The memory was so worn and used by now it seemed more like a bad dream than something that had really happened to her.

  She wanted to be angry, to burn with that white-hot fire she'd felt the first day, but she just felt sad. And weary.

  So much had happened since the day she'd sworn revenge. Events had overwhelmed her, swept her along like a spring flood, tugged and tossed her where they willed.

  No more.

  She had to take control.

  The Daliph was here. Somewhere. Just down the hall or across the courtyard. The man whose actions had twisted her world into something she couldn't even recognize.

  He was here, and she could finally achieve her goal. She could finally kill him.

  And then this would all be over and she could join her father in the Promised Plains.

  She could find peace and rest.

  At last.

  For a moment, she thought of Badru, his blue eyes shining with recognition and love when they first met. He wasn't a dream. He was real and alive and he wanted her.

  She remembered the feel of his child in her arms, the boy's heavy weight as he nestled against her.

  A little voice whispered that that could be real, too, if she just chose Badru instead.

  She shook it away. "No."

  She remembered lying in Badru's arms on the warm desert sands, the sky above them blanketed in stars, feeling safe and happy.

  "No," she said, louder. "That's not why I'm here."

  Herin had been right. The dreams were the work of the Trickster.

  But the trick hadn't been on Badru. It was on her.

  The Trickster was taunting her with a life and love she could never have.

  For a moment, she wondered if she could kill the Daliph and still have Badru. Fulfill her vow and follow the call of her heart.

  But no. The only way she'd kill the Daliph was if she was willing to give her life to do so. If she wanted him dead, she had to sacrifice everything. Even Badru.

  K'lrsa rested her chin on her knees and rocked silently back and forth.

  As twilight fell, she looked up at the sky, hoping to see the Lady Moon, but the sky was dark and barren, empty.

  She nodded to herself. Of course it was. Her gods were long gone, left behind in the desert. She was alone now.

  She stood and walked to the mirror. She stared into her own eyes and saw the fear there, but she pushed it away until only determination remained. "I swore a vow to the Great Father to kill the man who killed my father and destroy the Daliphate. And I will. I K'lrsa dan V'na of the White Horse Tribe swear this. To the Great Father. And to myself."

  She said the words, but they didn't make her feel any better.

  Chapter 49

  Later, Herin returned to the room with Garzel trailing along behind her—ever-silent in his green robes. Four servants entered behind them, bearing trays laden with more types of food than K'lrsa had ever seen at one time, the smells staggering in their complexity.

  Her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten since breakfast in Boradol what seemed like a lifetime ago.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but Herin gestured her to silence using the closed fist of the Riders. K'lrsa studied the woman's maimed hand, wondering once again what the woman had done to be deliberately harmed in such a way.

  They stood on opposite ends of the seating area, glaring at one another until the servants finished arranging the trays of food and closing the windows. Only after they'd left, leaving K'lrsa alone wi
th Herin and Garzel, did Herin lower her fist.

  With Garzel's assistance, Herin sat on the cushions and gestured for K'lrsa to join her as Garzel lowered himself to the cushion on Herin's left.

  K'lrsa stared at the selection of food. There were soft white cheeses and flat discs of bread so fresh they were still steaming. And olives and dates and nuts. And meats swimming in sauces of all colors. She leaned close to smell the dishes, curious about what they contained. Some burned her nose, others smelled cool and fresh.

  She held back even though her stomach demanded food. She'd long ago learned to ignore her hunger; in the desert she'd often gone an entire day without eating. It was hard to, though, with so much food spread before her.

  "Eat. We have much to discuss," Herin said.

  Garzel loaded a piece of bread with one of the soft white cheeses and held it to Herin's mouth. She took a bite, chewing slowly, and then another bite. K'lrsa looked away, unable to hide her disgust. No one in the tribes would ever allow another to feed them like a baby. Especially not a Rider.

  Herin saw the look and shook her head. "Such a simple world you live in. All black and white and easy choices." She took another bite as K'lrsa dunked a piece of bread in one of the bowls near her that had green sauce and some sort of white meat floating in it. "Tell me. If you had a choice to die or to continue, scarred, changed forever from what you were, what would you choose? Would you quit? Just lay down and die? Or would you fight on for as long as you could?"

  K'lrsa took a bite of food, refusing to answer. She thought she'd want to continue. But it would go against everything she'd ever known to be a burden on others.

  She dipped a piece of bread into a bowl with dark meat in a bright red sauce and took a bite. Immediately, her mouth started to burn and her eyes poured tears. She spat the food out in her palm, gasping as the fire from the food consumed her mouth.

  Herin laughed.

  Her mouth was still full so it made her choke. Served the old crow right. K'lrsa hoped she choked and died.