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

by Alessandra Clarke

  Badru continued, "I didn't know that Lodie was alive." He clenched his jaw tight and glared straight ahead. "My grandmother lied to me."

  The thunder of the distant storm rolled across the sky, echoing his mood. "I thought I could trust her, but now I know I can't."

  K'lrsa squeezed his arm. "I'm sure she did what she thought was best for you."

  He gave K'lrsa a long look. "Are you? Because I'm not." He shook his head, dislodging his memories and anger. "Enough. Should we see whose horse is fastest?"

  Before K'lrsa could say another word, he kicked Midnight into a run and Fallion leapt after him. They raced towards the dark storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

  Chapter 73

  K'lrsa gave Fallion full rein. She leaned low over his neck, relishing the feel of the wind whipping at her hair and the way she and Fallion flowed together. She was out of riding shape and knew she'd feel it in her muscles later, but for now she lost herself in the perfect harmony of riding such a magnificent creature.

  This. This was what was wonderful and amazing about being alive. This was what made all the suffering and pain of life worthwhile. These moments of pure bliss, flying across the plains, completely lost in the moment.

  Badru slowed Midnight just enough for her to reach them and then both horses surged ahead, racing side by side, their hooves barely touching the ground as they streamed across the plains, leaving their escort far behind.

  They dashed into the midst of the storm, never slowing as rain pelted their skin.

  K'lrsa laughed, her joy spilling outward to encompass Badru and the horses and the storm raging above them.

  She was free. After weeks of being held down, pulled back, twisted and constrained, she could finally just be herself.

  Badru laughed, too, the joy on his face matching her own as they thundered onward under the dark sky. He looked as young as her when he smiled, the burden of leadership that had aged him beyond his years washed away for just those few moments.

  They rode in a large circle that eventually took them away from the storm and back to their escort. The guards were furious, the tension around their eyes showing what they thought of their Daliph riding his horse into a thunderstorm with a strange woman and no one else by his side.

  The courtiers just stared at them, mouths agape as if Badru and K'lrsa were deranged demons.

  K'lrsa didn't care. Let them think what they would. She wasn't a proper dorana and she never would be.

  She was a Rider. A free woman who made her own choices and to the fiery pit with anyone who dared have an opinion about it.

  When they finally pulled to a stop, Badru let out a loud whooping yell. "That was fantastic."

  He pulled her to him and kissed her, his breath cinnamon, his lips melting against hers like honey. She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him deeper into the kiss, losing herself in the sensation of his mouth against hers, as if she'd been starving for him her entire life.

  It was a perfect moment.

  Until she heard the muttered comment from one of the courtiers about expecting no less from a desert whore.

  Badru jerked back. "Who said that?"

  Everyone froze.

  Badru turned to one of the guards. "Rulen. Who said it?"

  The guard pointed to a young man dressed mostly in brown but with a green belt and orange headscarf who cringed back from them.

  "Yorel, did you just call my dorana a desert whore?"

  The young man swallowed his fear and raised his chin. He rode his horse forward, glancing at K'lrsa before he met Badru's eyes. "Yes, most honored leader. I did. Because that's what she is."

  Badru slapped him. "She's my dorana."

  Yorel held his hand to his reddened cheek, his eyes tight with anger. "My sister is your dorana. A true dorana. A proper woman. An example for all of what is beautiful and precious." He glared at K'lrsa. "This woman is nothing more than tribal trash dressed as a dorana. She shames all women with her wanton ways. Bad enough that she rides a horse. Worse yet that it's a stallion. But to go racing after you? With her hair down? And to kiss you like that for all to see?" He shook his head. "It's unacceptable."

  The muscle in Badru's jaw twitched. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Yorel. It seems Toreem is no longer an appropriate place for you."

  Yorel's eyes widened. "What?"

  "Leave. You are no longer welcome in Toreem."

  "You can't do that. My father is one of your most trusted advisors. My sister is your dorana." He looked around for support, but no one would meet his eyes. "You've given me two colors. I'm one of the most esteemed members of your court."

  "Not anymore." Badru shrugged, the gesture overly casual. "I don't need you, Yorel. Or anyone else. Not if you won't support me."

  The young man stared at him, mouth hanging open. "You can't mean it."

  "I do. Just be glad K'lrsa has asked me not to whip those who offend her honor." Badru looked past the man, meeting the eyes of each courtier and guard. "Listen well. If I ever hear anyone else refer to K'lrsa as a whore or desert trash or a slave or insult her in any other way, I will have them killed. Is that understood?"

  The courtiers nodded, each looking away quickly, some fidgeting with their reins as they watched out of the corner of their eyes to see how Yorel would react.

  Yorel ignored everyone as he turned his horse towards Boradol. He held his head high as he rode away at a slow, steady pace. At a glance from Badru, two of the guards followed behind him.

  K'lrsa was grateful Badru had defended her, but as she watched the courtiers look at each other, she couldn't help but think he'd made yet another mistake because of her.

  How many more could he afford to make?

  Chapter 74

  When they returned to the stables, Herin was waiting for Badru. She took him aside, whispering urgently. Without so much as a glance in her direction, Badru left, throwing his reins to the closest groom.

  K'lrsa's poradoma weren't there. She didn't know how to return to her rooms and honestly didn't want to.

  When a young slave girl, half her face covered in a bright red birthmark, came to take Fallion's reins, K'lrsa waved her away. "No. I'll take care of him. Thank you."

  She led Fallion to his stall and started currying his coat, grateful for the old familiar rhythm and the comfort of his solid presence.

  As she worked, two men arrived in the area outside of the stall, calling for their horses.

  "I tell you, Fanel, no one will actually free any of their slaves. It doesn't matter."

  "No? You don't think so? What about Tamil? The fool's childhood sweetheart is a slave. Her husband gambled everything away. Tamil bought her for twice what she was worth. And now that his wife is dead, you don't think he'll free her at the first chance he has?"

  K'lrsa crept closer, trying to get a look at the two men without letting them see her.

  "I don’t." The first man was middle-aged, dressed in brown with a yellow belt.

  The second man was shorter and fatter, but about the same age. He wore brown with a red headscarf. "And why's that?"

  "Because the man owns over a thousand slaves. He can't free one without acknowledging that the others deserve more than to work his fields for the meager food and shelter he provides."

  Tamil raised an eyebrow. "And what about you, Fanel? Will you free your slaves? I know you haven't bought a slave since your father died five years ago."

  Fanel grimaced. "I don't like owning slaves. My father's brother was sold as a slave. I knew the man, so I can't pretend that there was some flaw in his character that made him deserving of slavery when my father wasn't. But I can't survive without slaves. Not when everyone else will keep theirs. And if I have to give them back the property that was taken from them, too? No. I won't free any."

  "Then what the Daliph said means nothing." Tamil nodded in satisfaction.

  Fanel shook his head. "It means everything. He played right into their hands."

 
Tamil frowned. "Do you really think so?"

  Before Fanel could answer, the young slave girl walked up leading two beautiful gray horses. Not as beautiful as Fallion or Midnight, but nicer than any other horses she'd ever seen.

  The men rode away without finishing their conversation.

  As she worked on Fallion's coat, K'lrsa wondered what Fanel had meant. Whose hands had Badru played into? And what would happen now?

  He'd freed her out of love, but what had it cost him?

  She hadn't wanted to ruin him. All she'd wanted was to be able to choose to be with him. And to go home to protect her family.

  But she might have handed Badru's enemies the tool to destroy him. Herin had certainly seemed to think so.

  She shook her head.

  It didn't matter. She'd be gone soon and everything would go back to the way it had been before she arrived.

  Badru would be fine.

  She spent the next candlemark with Fallion. He didn't need that much care—he'd been well taken care of, his coat shone and eyes and teeth looked good—but she needed his familiar presence and the comforting routine of tending to him.

  She was just standing there, leaning her forehead against his neck, when she heard the sound of a horse arriving in a hurry.

  "I need to see the Daliph. Immediately." The man who spoke had the accent of the tribes.

  K'lrsa peeked around the corner to see who it was. He was middle-aged and dressed in baru-hide pants and vest, but he also wore a multi-colored headscarf marking him as one favored by the Daliph.

  He looked tired, as if he'd been riding long hours for days. His horse didn't look much better. It wasn't a tribes horse, though. Clearly he'd switched out horses as he rode.

  The man looked familiar, but she couldn't place him.

  A courtier in a brown robe with a green belt came forward, smiling and bowing his head obsequiously. "I'm not sure that will be possible, honored sir."

  He glared at the man. "Well make it possible. This is too important to wait."

  Another man, this one in a brown robe with a yellow belt and yellow headscarf approached them. "K'var. A pleasure to see you once more." He bowed low.

  The only K'var she knew was a leader from the Black Horse Tribe. What was he doing here?

  "Faroon. I need to see the Daliph. Now."

  Faroon shook his head and held his hands forward in a placating gesture. "I'm afraid that won't be possible, most honored guest."

  K'var shook his head. "You don't understand. I have to see him now. The tribes are set to expel us. If they do that, we're ruined. The sands will turn against us and we won't be able to lead his traders across the deserts anymore."

  Faroon frowned at him. "What can the Daliph do if your own people have turned against you?"

  K'var's glare made Faroon step back three steps, holding his hands out in protection. K'var sneered at the man's cowardice. "Give us weapons. And men. So we can destroy any who oppose us before they vote. It's the only way for him to retain his trade route."

  K'lrsa bit her lip to keep silent. He wanted to attack the other tribes? Her tribe?

  Faroon bowed his head, clearly holding back from saying something cutting. "Very well. Follow me and I'll arrange an audience with the Daliph as soon as possible."

  They disappeared into the palace, leaving K'lrsa alone once more.

  She waited until she was sure they were gone and then snuck out to grab the slave girl. "Do you know that man that was just here?"

  The girl nodded.

  "Has he been here before?"

  The girl nodded again.

  "Tell me about him." K'lrsa glanced to the side, hoping no one would arrive to take her back until the girl could tell her what she knew.

  The girl shook her head.

  "Why? Why won't you tell me about him?"

  The girl opened her mouth to show the stub of a tongue.

  K'lrsa grimaced in distaste as well as frustration. "Who did that to you? Was it the current Daliph?"

  The girl shook her head.

  "The former Daliph?"

  She nodded, staring down at the floor.

  K'lrsa shook her head. "The world is definitely a better place now that that man's dead."

  The slave girl flinched back, her eyes wide. She looked around, searching for anyone who might have heard K'lrsa's comment.

  K'lrsa grabbed her arm and shook her. The girl trembled in her grasp. "It's okay. He's dead. No one's going to punish you because you heard me say something mean about a dead man."

  The girl stared at K'lrsa like a hare caught in a hawk's claws before she jerked free and ran away down one of the nearby corridors.

  Before K'lrsa could go after her, Sayel appeared. "There you are, my dorana." He smiled until he saw that she was alone. "Where's the Daliph? Or his guards?"

  She shrugged. "He had to leave. Something urgent."

  "And he left you unguarded? In the stables?" Sayel shook his head, clearly wanting to say more but refraining because it was the Daliph.

  "He freed me, Sayel. He said I can have Fallion back and ride him whenever I want."

  Sayel frowned. "He may have freed you from slavery, but you're still a dorana and should act as such." He grabbed her by the elbow. "Come along now. It's time for your evening meal. And…" He leaned closer with a delicate sniff. "A bath. No dorana should ever smell of horse."

  K'lrsa grimaced, but she let him lead her away.

  Chapter 75

  After dinner, K'lrsa waited for Sayel and Morlen to leave, but they didn't.

  "What's this? Why are you still here?"

  Sayel sighed, not even bothering with his normal raised eyebrow of rebuke. "The Daliph has ordered that you should have two poradoma with you at all times."

  "All times?"

  "Yes."

  "Even when I'm sleeping."

  Sayel nodded. "Especially when you're sleeping. He worries for your safety, my dorana."

  She stood and paced the room. Badru had freed her from slavery and yet she was as trapped as ever. "I don't need protection, Sayel. Tell him I said no."

  Sayel shook his head, looking more like a disappointed parent than her mother ever had. "You are a dorana."

  "Yes. I'm well aware of that."

  "It seems you are not or you would never make such a suggestion."

  "What have I done now?"

  "A dorana would never presume to tell the Daliph what he should or should not give her."

  K'lrsa rolled her eyes and turned away. "This again."

  "This always, my dorana."

  She raised a hand before he could start the lecture on how all she was was a reflection of the Daliph and therefore subject to his will in all things and…

  "Can I at least be alone in my room? Can you position yourselves outside?" She turned to see them both looking uncomfortable. "I want to practice the hundred and five attacks. And I generally wear a little less than this to do so."

  Sayel shook his head. "We dress you every day, my dorana. There is nothing we haven't seen."

  K'lrsa raised an eyebrow. "It's different, Sayel. Trust me? Please?"

  He nodded his head and signaled for Morlen to accompany him. "Very well. We'll be just outside if you need us."

  "Thank you."

  K'lrsa worked on the hundred and five attacks until sweat was pouring down her skin and the stray wisps of hair that had escaped her braid were plastered to her face and neck. She was determined to get back into the shape she'd been in when she'd come to this place, to once more be the true Rider she'd once been.

  She'd just finished Striking Snake when the door opened and Badru came inside. He was still dressed in the black he'd been wearing for their ride, his face streaked with dirt. He pulled her into an embrace and buried his face against her neck.

  "What a day it's been," he sighed as he stepped back to smile at her. "All I've wanted since I returned to the palace was this." He pulled her into a long, deep kiss.

  She lost hers
elf in the sensation of his mouth on hers, fitting her body against his the way she had so many times in the Moon Dance.

  And then she remembered what she'd heard in the stables and pulled away, pushing him backward.

  "What?"

  "I need to ask you something."

  He settled himself on a cushion, burying his face in his hands. "Not now, please. It's been a long day and I just want to spend some time with you without thinking about anything except how beautiful you are and how much I love being with you."

  He reached for her. "Come here. Help take my mind off everything."

  K'lrsa didn't move, her arms crossed tight against her chest to keep from reaching for him. "No."

  "K'lrsa. You're my dorana. I thought you would…"

  "Oh, do finish that sentence please. You thought your dorana would, what? Bow at your feet? Kiss you and make it all better? Put aside her own needs and wants because you told her to?"

  He slumped forward. "K'lrsa, please. I wasn't trying to start a fight with you. I've just had a long day and you were all I wanted at the end of it."

  "Me? Or some perfect version of me that doesn't exist? This is me, Badru."

  He rubbed at his face. "You know, we seem to do better when we don't have to actually speak to one another."

  She laughed. "Convenient isn't it? When you don't have to listen to what I want? When you can just have your way?"

  He stood and glared at her. "I never forced you to do anything in the moon dreams, K'lrsa. You wanted me as much as I wanted you. And before you were my dorana. Never say I forced that on you. I am not my grandfather."

  She rested her hands against his chest, meeting his eyes. "I didn't, Badru. I'm sorry if that's how it sounded."

  He grabbed her hands. "Please, can we just spend this time together without talking about all the rest of it?" He kissed her palm, sending shivers down her spine.

  She wanted to give in, to let him touch and kiss her and make the world disappear. But she couldn't do that. Even now K'var might be racing back to the plains, an army at his back ready to slaughter everyone she loved.