Rider's Rescue (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 2)

by Alessandra Clarke

  K'lrsa stared at her, waiting for some sort of additional explanation.

  Garzel grunted and nudged Herin in the ribs. She glared at him for a moment, but continued, "Fine. It was the year I reached fourteen summers. I wasn't supposed to be out after dinnertime—as you know, the tribes can be pretty wild when they're all gathered together and the fermented mare's milk is flowing—but I was curious and there was a boy I wanted to see." She flicked a glance at Garzel who smiled back at her.

  K'lrsa tried to picture Herin as a young girl sneaking out to meet a younger Garzel, but failed. It was impossible to think of either of them as young.

  Herin squelched her lips against her teeth before she continued, the sound making K'lrsa's skin crawl. "Anyway. I snuck my way across camp to where the Riders were gathered around the fire. Two of the men were daring one another to bigger and bigger feats of daring while the others watched and laughed. I too watched as they jumped the fire over and over again as it built up higher and higher with each pass until another Rider finally pushed them away, saying it was too dangerous to continue.

  "Next they juggled daggers, the blades glinting through the air, flashing with each turn of each sharpened blade. Two first, then three, then four."

  Herin shook her head at the memory, a small smile on her face. "I was in awe, amazed by what they could do." She snorted. "Even I was young and foolish once."

  K'lrsa smiled at the thought of a wide-eyed Herin, gazing upon the two Riders.

  Herin scratched her nose with the stump of her pinky finger. "Finally, H'lar, the bolder of the two, dared the other to throw a dagger at him and said he'd catch it between his hands. Right here." She placed her hands palms together between her breasts.

  K'lrsa's eyebrows rose. "Was he crazy? He actually wanted someone to throw a dagger at him? Right there? At his chest."

  Herin shrugged one shoulder. "He was talented, but he wasn't very bright. Died hunting a desert cat a year later."

  "Didn't someone stop them?"

  "No. They were all drunk. Thought it was a grand idea. Gathered around to watch. Of course, none wanted to get too close to H'lar. The other Rider wasn't exactly sober by then. But I was young and foolish and eager to see his trick, so I crept as close as I could get without being seen. I was an arm's length away, maybe two."

  "And?" K'lrsa leaned forward.

  Herin shook her head. "And H'lar just stood there as the knife came right at his chest. Didn't try to catch it. Didn't move. Just stood there."

  "What?"

  Herin nodded her agreement. "The blade went right for his throat. I saw it. I was right there. It touched the skin of his throat…and then…"

  K'lrsa waited for her to continue, hanging on every word.

  Badru who was just as enthralled as she was, finally asked. "And then? What happened, Grandmother?"

  Garzel chuckled softly. Obviously he knew the story.

  "And then the knife disappeared."

  "Disappeared?"

  Herin nodded. "Yep. Just like that." She snapped her fingers, the sight somehow more disturbing with just her finger stumps clicking together. "The knife was gone. No one could find it. They looked everywhere. That night and the next day."

  K'lrsa frowned. "So what happened?"

  Herin smirked. "Well…If you listen to the men that were there that night, the dagger wasn't thrown true and someone found it in the morning and kept it to teach them a lesson."

  Badru shook his head. "But that's not what happened."

  "No. It's not. I asked my mother about it the next day even though I knew she'd punish me for sneaking out. And she did. I was banned from traveling for three months and had to wash all her brewing pots for the next month. But I had to know. And she was head wise woman for our tribe."

  "And?" K'lrsa and Badru both asked at once.

  "And she told me that no one can be killed on the gathering grounds. It's protected by the gods."

  K'lrsa shook her head. "That doesn't make sense. Why would K'var demand that the Daliph's troops attack during the annual gathering if he knew that no one could be killed?"

  "Because K'var was a fool who didn't believe in the gods. And it wasn’t exactly common knowledge about the gathering grounds, even in my day. My mother swore me to secrecy because she knew that young men who thought themselves invincible would get into all sorts of unnecessary trouble."

  Herin studied the ground for a moment. "After the Summer Spring Tribe was destroyed and most of the wise men and women with it, I suspect no one knows the secret now."

  K'lrsa nodded. It made sense.

  She studied Herin. How much other knowledge had they lost when Aran destroyed the wise ones? How much that was only in Herin and Garzel's heads?

  She winced.

  Nothing to be done about it now. "So you think as long as the tribes make it to the gathering grounds and stay there, that they'll be safe?"

  Herin nodded.

  "Well, that's simple enough then. They're all headed there now anyway for the annual gathering. We just convince them to move a little faster."

  Herin shook her head. "If only life were that simple. What will they eat?"

  K'lrsa shrugged. "The Riders can take turns hunting baru and bringing them back."

  "How? They'll be surrounded by the Daliph's soldiers."

  K'lrsa blinked. Herin was right. How long could the tribes last on the gathering grounds? A week? Two?

  "So we get them to the gathering grounds and then we have to find the weapon right away. Within days. Is that possible? Where do you think it is?"

  Herin looked at Garzel.

  "Herin? Do you know where we can find the weapon the Lady mentioned?"

  Herin studied her maimed hands, flexing each finger in turn.

  "Herin?"

  They all waited as the afternoon heat seemed to settle down upon them, chasing the air from the room.

  Finally, Herin met K'lrsa's gaze, her eyes flat and black, the wrinkles on her face deepening even as K'lrsa watched. "Yes."

  "Where? Where can we find it?"

  Herin looked at Garzel again and he took her hand and squeezed gently as she answered. "The Hidden City."

  "The Hidden City? But…Do you know where it is?"

  "Yes."

  Of course. She knew everything it seemed. Why hadn't the Lady just chosen her to save everyone? She certainly seemed more qualified.

  "Is it far?" K'lrsa asked.

  "No. Not if we take the Amalanee." But Herin wouldn't meet her gaze.

  K'lrsa wanted to ask what she was hiding, but Herin was a snake's nest of secrets she didn't want to disturb just now.

  "So we just get everyone to safety on the gathering grounds, find the Hidden City, find the weapon, bring it back, use it to destroy the Daliph's troops and then we're done? That's it."

  Herin harrumphed. "Yeah. That's it."

  From the way Herin and Garzel looked at each other it clearly wasn’t. But no point in asking for an explanation.

  Not yet at least.

  Chapter 6

  They flew through the next night, following the road that had brought K'lrsa to Toreem all those weeks ago. She could hardly believe what a rash fool she'd been then. Setting out to avenge her father with no more plan than to let herself be captured by a slaving caravan on the word of a god known to be capricious and cruel.

  What had she been thinking?

  She'd never even seen a barn before, let alone a city. Never slept under a roof. Never been surrounded by men who viewed her as no better than cattle and eyed her like a succulent piece of meat. Never had to bow her head and still her tongue or risk death.

  She shuddered, glad to be done with Toreem and the Daliphate.

  Hopefully forever, even if the Lady Moon didn't see it that way.

  They flew until the moon touched the far horizon and then landed in a small valley just north of the road, next to a home that was clearly abandoned, its doorway yawning black and empty, the small garden outside g
rown over with weeds. There was a purple flower winding up the side of the house with a pungent scent that made K'lrsa want to sneeze.

  As Herin and Garzel made the place habitable, chasing away a small furry creature that had nested there and clearing out a space in the main room for them to sleep, Badru stayed with Midnight, stroking his neck softly and whispering to him.

  K'lrsa stood between the house and Badru, torn between doing something useful and offering what comfort she could. Finally, she made her slow way to Badru's side. "Do you want to talk about it?"

  He stepped away from Midnight, arms crossed tightly as he gazed back towards Toreem. "I don't know what to do. I don't know who I am. I don't…I was a Daliph, K'lrsa, a leader of thousands of men, and now I'm…" He shook his head, his face mottled with emotion. "No one."

  "You’re still you, Badru. You're a skilled warrior. I'm sure you can hunt. You have Midnight."

  He shrugged one shoulder. "I'm just one of many. No one would care if I disappeared tomorrow."

  "I would."

  He flushed slightly at the rebuke, and K'lrsa added, "And you won't be one of many in the tribes. We aren't fighters. Hunters, yes. Fighters, no."

  He scoffed. "You're just trying to make me feel better. You forget, I've fought you."

  "That's hand-to-hand combat, Badru. For self-defense. But what good is Crouching Cricket against a sword? Or against a hundred trained soldiers?"

  He scrunched his lips together, eyes narrowed. "What was the name of that one move you made where you swept low and kicked at my legs? That could easily disarm an attacker, even one with a sword. And that other move? Where you chopped at my arm?" He stepped closer, demonstrating in slow motion. "If you converted that into a grip, like this, you could disarm an attacker with a sword. You'd have to be fast." He shifted his stance. "Maybe more like this."

  She smiled. "See? I would've never thought of that. I told you we need you."

  He smiled back, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.

  "How about this afternoon, after we've slept, I show you the hundred and five attacks so you can start thinking about ways to use them to fight the Daliph's troops?"

  He nodded. "I'd like that."

  "Good. Now we better get some rest while we can."

  As they walked towards the house, side-by-side but not touching, K'lrsa realized how few times she'd actually spent with Badru in the real world. Their bodies had learned to move together in the moon dream but they'd never learned to be together in the real world.

  Here they'd only had a stolen kiss or two, a few brief moments of conversation.

  She felt awkward, suddenly, wondering what happened now. The night before, Herin and Garzel had slept cocooned together, their bodies fitted to one another's with the ease of years, but Badru had returned after K'lrsa was asleep and slept by the door, alone.

  Tonight, though? K'lrsa wasn't sure what to do.

  She loved him. She felt drawn to him. But…How well did she really know him? Well enough to sleep next to him?

  As they reached the door, she pulled away. "I better go, um, yeah." She ducked around the side of the house, her face flushed with embarrassment.

  Badru paused, but then continued into the house. Through a gaping hole that had once been a window, she heard him mutter something to Herin and Garzel before settling down to sleep.

  K'lrsa stayed outside, leaning against the wall of the house, as the sun slowly rose in the distance, coloring the clouds pink and purple against a pale blue sky.

  A tear rolled down her cheek.

  And then another.

  She shook her head.

  She wasn't crying because of Badru.

  Or because of how scared she was to go home.

  Or the dangers of finding the weapon to save her people.

  No. She was crying because, more than anything in the world, she longed to talk to her father. She wanted to see his gentle smiling face and hear the soft rumble of his laughter. She wanted to know that it was all going to be alright. To hear him tell her that she could do anything, that she could make it through. That he had faith in her.

  She laughed softly as she sniffed back another tear.

  Maybe she didn't need him after all; it seemed she knew exactly what he would say.

  She hugged herself tight and watched the sun finally break above the horizon.

  Her father was gone, but life went on. Day after day. Week after week.

  And at least she had this small part of him lodged in her heart, there for her in her darkest moments.

  Finally, she pushed off the wall and went back inside.

  Badru lay alone against the far wall, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Herin snored softly off to the side, nestled in Garzel's arms.

  K'lrsa watched for a long, long moment before she finally took a deep breath and made her way to Badru's side. As she lay down beside him, he opened one eye and smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. She snuggled against him, grateful for this moment of peace in the chaos.

  She didn't know how long they'd have together, but she swore she wasn't going to waste it.

  Chapter 7

  They flew through each night and slept through each day as they made their way through the Daliphate. Fortunately, they always managed to find an abandoned barn or house to shelter in. K'lrsa marveled that those of the Daliphana had so much that they could simply abandon a perfectly fine building to rot and decay.

  In the tribes if they'd had a large wooden structure, they would've taken every single plank and nail for use elsewhere, wood and metal being such rare commodities.

  To think that her people had practically ruined themselves for the castoffs of the Daliphana.

  She tried not to think about it too much as they flew in silence each night, Fallion's wings the only sound in that twilight world through which they traveled.

  She honestly would've preferred to sleep outside each day rather than in some musty run-down structure in danger of collapsing on her head, but she knew the risk of discovery was too high.

  A woman alone in the Daliphana? It simply didn't happen. And dressed like her? With three people in slave's robes? No.

  So they slept in whatever shelter they could find while they waited for the sun to set and the moon to rise.

  K'lrsa chafed at the delay, but they had no choice. The horses were fine. They'd keep going day and night. It was the Daliphate and its stupid rules.

  What was so wrong about a woman riding a horse? Or wearing comfortable clothes that allowed her full movement?

  She didn't know, but she'd seen how the people of the Daliphate reacted as she rode to Toreem. One man had spat at her feet. Another had beat his daughter for talking to her.

  And women had shuffled away as if she'd somehow taint them with her hedonistic ways.

  It was absurd. But it was the world she was trapped in. And the last thing she needed was for someone to capture her and keep her from warning her people.

  Finally, at least a day later than she would've liked, as the moon was about to set, they reached Crossroads, a small border town that consisted of auction houses for trading slaves, and brothels and bars for fleecing traders of their newly acquired riches.

  Trading caravans camped around the town's perimeter, their slave goods penned like so much cattle.

  They landed on a small rise to the north of the city, behind a tall copse of trees.

  The wind shifted and K'lrsa grimaced at the stench of so much dirty humanity clustered in such a small space. To think that the Black Horse Tribe had willingly led some of these traders across the desert to obtain their human cargo. It disgusted her and made her burn with an anger so deep she felt ill with it.

  There was a part of her that wanted to see them all destroyed, each and every man who'd spent his time and energy ripping others from their homes, killing those too weak for the journey, and chaining and selling the rest.

  They all,
every one, deserved the worst fate she could give them.

  But another part of her just wanted to get home.

  Let someone else right this wrong. Surely she wasn't the only one who saw how vile it was.

  She stepped through the trees, careful not to leave their shelter, and looked down upon Crossroads. It looked more crowded than the last time she'd been there, but she didn't know what was normal. Maybe she'd passed through during a lull.

  Or maybe the fires were soldiers, massed together, ready to set out in the morning and attack her people.

  "Herin," she called, softly.

  Herin came to stand by her, their de facto leader now.

  "There are a lot of camps down there. There weren't near this many when I came through on my way to Toreem."

  She nodded and turned back to Badru and Garzel. "Go into Crossroads. Find out what's going on."

  Badru gestured at his rough-spun brown robe—the slave's garment they'd found for him when they fled the slaughter in the throne room. "Can't in this. There's bound to be one or two men that've made it as far as Boradol and would know it for slave garb."

  Herin glared at him through slitted eyes. "Then find something else to wear."

  "Like what? We didn't pack spare clothes."

  "Then steal some. Or sneak around in alleys so no one sees what you're wearing." She turned away, rolling her eyes in disgust.

  Badru pressed his lips tight together. "Fine. But Garzel stays here. I don't need to explain him, too."

  Herin raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue. "I suggest you go now, then."

  K'lrsa cast a nervous glance at the horizon. The moon was gone but the sun not yet risen. "Shouldn't he wait?"

  "For what?" With her malevolent gaze and hunched shoulders, Herin looked just like a grel waiting for its prey to die.

  "It's not safe. It's the Trickster's time."

  Herin harrumphed. "We're not in the desert, girl. Your gods have no power here."

  "Don't you mean our gods?"

  "No." Herin turned away, ending the conversation.

  But K'lrsa wasn't having it. As Badru stomped out of camp, making far too much noise for comfort, K'lrsa followed Herin. "How can you turn your back on the gods? You know they're real."