It was a quarter of an hour before Aella finally appeared in the mess hall. Mariah and Luke had left, and my grumbling stomach was causing me to seriously consider grabbing food without her when a glance at the door found her at last. She was hard to miss, almost running into two other diners as she made her way to the line. I had to call her name a few times for her to wrest herself from her reverie and find me.
“Sorry,” she said when she reached me. “I must have drank more than I thought last night. I’m so out of it today.” I inclined my head. She had been in fine form the night before, especially toward the end of the night. Now her normally bright skin was pale and lackluster, and her hazel eyes were dull.
“It was definitely a good night. You just missed Mariah and Lucas. They had to deal with her roommates coming to our building to yell at her. I didn’t even hear them, did you?”
“Yeah, that explains the racket. I think I must have fallen asleep some time during it. Are they coming with us?”
“No. They’ve got stuff to do today. I don’t suppose you had a chance to ask Conner if he was coming?”
“No. You haven’t seen him?”
“I haven’t. It’s probable that he is still abed. I don’t really want to wake him.” She still hadn’t sat, and now she trailed a finger along the table, barely skimming the surface.
I stood. “Me either. Let’s grab some sausage and get out of here.”
The sausage, as well as a hard-boiled egg each, were bundled away in our own individual kerchiefs. The cook of the day filled our flasks with hot water, into which we put our own tea. Aella had brought our cloaks, leaving them in the antechamber to the mess hall. We donned them and headed to the stable.
Hale began to fidget excitedly as soon as she saw me. The slate gray of her coat gleamed darkly in the low light of the barn. I did my best to ride her a few times a week, even if it was just in the practice yards. Exercise helped her as much as it helped me. Never in her life had she been subject to such a constant onslaught of strangers, human or horse. We had that in common, but I knew she had no way of understanding the change.
Beyond that, I knew guilt guided my attentiveness to her. As much as I hated it, when spring came I would have to leave her in the care of those who stayed at the guild hall year-round. Mercenary work in the south was no place for a farm pony from the mountains, no matter how much I loved her. I’d have to ride in the caravan until we came to a horse merchant. Aedith had already said that she would front me half the money, and I could pay her back after my first job.
By the time I had Hale saddled and out of her stall, Aella was mounted and waiting on her own mare, Juniper. She was still faster than me when it came to mounting quickly, and Juniper made it easy. A chocolate flax, she was as beautiful as she was well behaved. She was also trained to follow commands without bucking, unlike my spoiled pony. I loved Hale, but those skills were something that made me itch to have a combat-trained horse of my own.
At least Hale’s eagerness to be out of the fort’s walls meant she was willing to behave for me on our rides outside the walls, even if she still couldn’t be trusted around other mounts and livestock. Today she ignored the chickens that clucked from their small pen next to the stables as we made our way across the courtyard to where the guards sat at their posts, looking over the gate.
The two men on duty asked us our business and let us loose when we gave it to them. They were some of the people who lived at the Forklahke barracks the whole year. With rooms situated on the same floor as the offices, they never had to worry about freezing in the winter if fewer companies stayed, but they also had little cause to mingle with the new folks from other companies. I hadn’t spent much time with any of them. They seemed like a nice enough group, but they mostly comprised of those mercenaries who could no longer work in the field. It hardly surprised me that they didn’t have a great urge to get to know someone like me, who was just starting down the path they had begun decades prior.
When we rounded the corner and Lake Forklahke spread in front of us, I discarded my ruminations as a small thrill of pleasure rippled through me. Deep and cold, Lake Forklahke was a sight to be seen on any day. All three of the distinct courses down which the water flowed stretched off into the distance, cutting severely through rocky earth and ancient pine forest alike.
To me, it looked like the foot of a chicken, only instead of vibrant yellow, the lake was an almost black blue, and today it was capped in snow and ice. From the right angle on a clear day, you could see the far shore of any two prongs at one time, but never all three at once.
Much like the lakes and rivers close to home, rather than the flat sand and dirt beaches of a gentle brook, boulders sloped sharply into the water on most sides. There was the occasional pebbled beach where one could ride down and water horses—or swim in the summer, I imagined, but they were few and far between.
Beyond the lake were the mountains, mere hazy purple shapes. I allowed my eyes to rest on them briefly. Was the snow leopard gryphon who had almost killed me, up there somewhere? After she had fled, had she found a mate, and born kittens as I had childishly wished for her? It was strange, I couldn’t even remember her name now. Shaking my head, I turned Hale left, and away from the mountains.
The path we guided the horses to was thin, running along the western side of the lake. The dirt trail was covered in a soft orange carpet of pine needles from the invariably straight pines that grew clumped closely together on the opposite side of the boulders. The trees towered above us, reaching for their own patch of sky. Frost clung to their shadows, turning them white in the places where the sun had yet to reach.
The western trail would also conveniently take us down the opposite shore of the village. I’d had the opportunity to meet some of the people from Forklahke Village multiple times. They came each week to do odd jobs around the barracks and stables, but I still did not know how to talk with them.
Forklahke was a well-to-do town, and many of the people who lived there were surly in passing and took pleasure in looking down their noses at me. Yet, those who acted as though they already knew everything they needed to know about me by point of my trade, were in some ways better than their alternative.
Those who were eager to know all about me and where I had come from made me nervous. They reminded me of Claire, a girl I knew back home. Sure of themselves, and proud. Interested in me only because they wanted to find something to pick at.
It didn’t escape me that, possibly, one or two of them might have been related to her. I knew she had some relations in the area, and I couldn’t help but hate the idea of any of them knowing who I was and reporting back to Claire on the state of me. It was best to avoid them all.
For the ride, I let Aella take point, and she set an easy pace—steady, but not so fast that we couldn’t eat as we rode. The sausage I ate one-handedly. It was a little greasy, but I relished the taste of the sage that had been chopped up and added to the mix. It was also still warm, which was good because Kaleb had been right—the sun was bright, but it couldn’t be denied that we were waist deep in winter.
We didn’t bother trying to talk while the path was narrow. Instead, I savored being out of the walls, amidst the trees. I loved hearing all the noises that the thick stone tended to block. The slap of waves against rock, sparrows quarreling with one another, and crows calling.
No sounds of lesser gryphons came to me. We were at the far side of northern gryphon territory, and there had been no sight of them this season. It had taken me a while to get used to that, and I had only recently stopped flinching whenever something winged moved too quickly at the corner of my eyes.
When we had been riding for what I guessed was half an hour, we came upon the first pebbled beach. A long log sat high on the shore next to an obviously well-used fire pit. It was a common gathering place—not just for us, but for the local youths who wanted to be out of earshot of their parents. The charred firewood was fresh, and there were deep scours in the
rocks and underlying earth where a boat had rested within the last day.
Aella slowed and dismounted, jumping down before Juniper had come to a full stop. Her horse continued forward a few paces, snorted, and turned back to her, with a look of irritation that could have rivaled any of Hale’s.
I reined up next to them both, dismounting deliberately slower. She grinned at me and tethered Juniper to a stake that she drove with some effort into the frozen earth. I did the same with Hale, a few feet over so they didn’t need to be right next to one another if they didn’t want to.
“It’s a shame that Luke and Mariah had things to do today,” I commented. “The sky is clear, and the sun’s warm, so long as you keep out of the shade.”
Aella had her arms wrapped around her, keeping her cloak tightly shut. Still, she bobbed her head. “Maybe they’ll be up for another ride later in the day.”
“Maybe,” I said, picking my way down the beach. My feet skidded, as part of the hill gave way under me. I pinwheeled my arms briefly, steam billowing out from my lips in a strong line. Aella moved to help steady me, but I straightened quickly.
“You all right?” she asked, extending an arm in case I needed support.
“I’m fine, thanks.” I spared her an embarrassed smile. “I thought all this gravel would be frozen down by now.”
Checking my footing, I continued past her down to the shore. The edges here were ice in some places, but after a few feet it gave way to dark water. I stooped to grab a rock and pitched it as far as I could. I could barely hear the plunk as it hit the water and sank. Aella joined me and grabbed her own rock, flatter than mine had been. She threw it with a flick of her wrist, and it skipped four times before slicing under a small swell.
We tossed a few more rocks, and I tried my hand at skipping—though I already knew I was no good at it. Neither of us spoke, but it was a comfortable silence.
Aella left the water’s edge first, and I followed her with just my eyes. She pulled a stick from the ground not far from the water, where someone had stuck it. The wet, dirt-coated bottom tip was pointed and blackened from being in a fire. She gave it a lazy twirl, and then let it trail behind her. The point cut a line in the pebbles as she made her way to the fire pit. I wrapped my arms around myself, turning to keep her in my sight. She poked at the cinders, making them crunch. A blue jay landed noisily in a spindly fir, causing it to sway. Hale whickered at it.
“Do you want to start a fire?” I asked.
Aella glanced up at me, her eyes surprised and almost bewildered for a moment. She had been elsewhere in her mind again. “Did you want to?”
I joined her, leaning forward to make getting up the hill easier. “Depends on if we want to stay out here a while, or if you wanted to ride on a ways, or go back.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Come here, give me your heat.”
I didn’t resist as she drew me forward, turning meso she could wrap her arms around me from behind. She tucked her cold fingers against my middle, making me giggle, and rested her head on the back of my shoulder. Once her fingers stopped feeling so frosty, I could appreciate her warmth, and I leaned into her. Her words rumbled in her chest.
“Let’s leave off on the fire for the moment. Go on a ways more. If we make it to another shore and we still want one, then we can have a fire.”
I nodded my agreement, but neither of us moved to mount up. We stayed like that for a while longer, enjoying the sun on our skin.
Months passed, seemingly before I could blink. Mariah’s company was the first to leave the barracks, a month shy of true spring. Magda had decided to leave ahead of Hamash’s company, though Mariah couldn’t tell us why.
The morning they set out, freezing fog hung low across the barracks yard. Aella and I rose early to say our farewells. We draped our heaviest cloaks over our night clothes to ward off the cold. My eyes were bleary, and my thoughts moved sluggishly as we walked in the predawn light. Our boots crunching on dead grass was easily the most noise any of us made. At this hour, the fort, normally bustling with activity, had the hushed atmosphere of a temple before service began.
Inside the barn there was more movement. Mariah’s company was forty strong, and all of those who rode horses were readying them. I was surprised to see how close to ready to leave Mariah was already. We’d had a small get-together on the night before temple day, the week prior and she had told us not to bother rising so early “just to see her off,” but I had wanted to see what it was like.
It felt strange—her done up in her traveling gear, saddling her horse with all the supplies that wouldn’t go into their caravan. She didn’t look like my friend Mariah anymore. She looked like a mercenary.
I leaned against the beam of an adjacent stall, face softly resting on the rough wood. Aella was next to me, along with Conner and a girl called Bess, who Mariah knew well, but I had gotten acquainted with only a little since her company had arrived in the last month. Luke was helping to load the tack Mariah had left out until the last minute, while she cinched the horse’s bridle tighter.
Around us other members of Ninth Company readied their own mounts. I couldn’t help noting that though we weren’t the only ones who had come to see them off, more were alone than not. Perhaps that wasn’t fair though. None of them were alone; they were with each other.
Mariah’s fingers brushed Luke’s as he handed her a curry comb, and she cleared her throat. “We’re going south. It’s not as though there’s no chance that I’ll see you all again before next winter. Don’t look at me so gloomily!” Her voice was gruff, but her movements were gentle so as not to upset her dainty bay. Chestnut already seemed to sense something exciting was happening as he shuffled back and forth in the stall.
“We’re going to miss you is all,” Conner told her, shoving her lightly. “That should make you happy!”
“It pleases me to no end,” she said wryly, shoving him back with her shoulder. Her hair, which had been left free all winter was braided back into tight cornrows now, and the ends swayed as she moved. “Now all of you hug me and then move. Magda wants us out and ready as soon as possible.”
I watched her ride out with the rest of Ninth Company, feeling small and more than a little forlorn as the gates closed on their backs. I hoped I would see her again before next winter. I promised myself that I would. I just had to be ready to meet whatever challenges the gods had in store for me in the coming year.
Conner slung an arm over my shoulders. “Cheer up. Our turn is next, and then the real fun begins.”
The barrack’s living quarters were quieter the following month. It probably would have been even without two other companies leaving—the Fifteenth and the Third. With the warmer temperatures, the practice yard was always teeming with activity. Everyone from Twelfth and Seventh Company were preparing in earnest, mentally and physically for when they’d have to leave the dubious comfort of the stone walls of Forklahke.
I spent more time than ever with Hale. She wasn’t suited for riding in the south—that was just a fact. The weather would kill her, but she was still young, as ponies went. It was a waste to leave her penned up. As often as I found myself wishing there was a way to bring her with me, I also wished I could return her to my parents. Even if I only took her with me on treks to the north she’d be more likely to hinder the riders around me with her stubborn peevishness. She just wasn’t bred to work with other horses. She had barely tolerated the dogs and the sheep back home.
I allowed myself the occasional idle daydream as I took her on rides. Perhaps next time the company rode toward the mountains, I could take her home. I’d be a proper warrior at that point. I could slip in and out of Nophgrin without anyone from town being the wiser. Mother and Father would hear her whicker in the barn and they’d go out to investigate, and they’d find her. Without me having to be present to taint them with my bad luck, Hale’s appearance would somehow be enough to tell them that I loved them, and that I was all right.
It was during on
e such visit with Hale, combing out her mane after a ride and murmuring to her, when I heard the sharp mew of a kitten. Since my talk with Dai on the first day at Fort Forklahke, I had seen Dove, Raven, and Mags here and there, as well as a handful of other cats, particularly in and around the kitchen when I had duty there. I’d even seen Aella feeding them on more than one occasion, but they never approached me, and I had too much pride to go chasing them.
I looked around the stall for the culprit of the noise. There. A shadow moved, and a bit of darkness detached itself to waddle into the light that came from the high windows. I giggled. It was fluffy and gray, with the short legs and erect tale of a very young kitten. Clearly having me in mind, it tottered over, yelling the whole way. Its eyes were still pale and blue, but they were open. Hale snorted, and eyed the thing with distrust.
“Hush, it’s not a gryphon, you big baby,” I said, giving her a stern look. Hale had a prejudice against lesser gryphons, which I couldn’t say I begrudged. One had scarred her across her rump when she was younger. This scrap of fur had no wings though, and her past injury was hardly its fault.
When the kitten reached me, I picked it up and held it in front of my face so I could see it better. “Now, who are you? You don’t look old enough to be away from your litter mates.”
The kitten mewed, its voice high and reedy. It placed a small paw on my mouth, and I pulled it backward, unable to keep from grinning. I checked under its tail. “Well miss, I hate to be the one to inform you, but you are bit small to be telling anyone else to be quiet.” More mewing. She was thin and light in my hands. I could have held her in just one. “Let’s see if we can find your momma.”
I put Hale’s grooming tools away with an apologetic ruffle of her fetlock. Then, I checked the stalls to the right and left of hers. They were both empty of horses and of cats. It was possible that her family was somewhere in the hay up in the loft. Cats tended to dart up there at the first sign of people. I didn’t want to set her down long enough to clamor up the wooden ladder and suss that out though. She squirmed in my hands. One thing was certain, she had no problem vocalizing her displeasure, whatever it was.
Of Dragon Warrens and Other Traps Page 11