Rider's Rescue (The Rider's Revenge Trilogy Book 2) Page 5

  And next to him poor little M'lara—barely out of girlhood, her gangly limbs stretched tight between metal stakes.

  K'lrsa screamed and struggled, but it was no use. No sound came. And she stayed right where she'd fallen.

  Laughter filled the air, cruel and vicious. The laughter of a child who loves to torment.

  She turned to see a fat little boy with a big belly and a sly smile watching her.

  The Trickster. Vile imp. Bane of all.

  She snarled at him.

  His laughter deepened, a roaring, boisterous noise that belied his size. "Oh ho. They told me you had spirit, K'lrsa dan V'na of the White Horse Tribe." He tilted his head to the side and studied her. "What would you do? If I let you go right now?"

  She still couldn't move, but now she could speak. "I'd save them."

  "But you're too late. They'll die no matter what you do." He tsked as he stared down at them. "I guess you could kill them like you did your father…Give them that final mercy?"

  She glared at him. "Then I'd kill you. I'd throttle your skinny little neck."

  He rocked back and forth on his feet, his lips quirked into a slight smile. "Is that any way to talk to a god? Do you talk to my mother that way? Or my father?"

  She found herself lost in the depths of his eyes, unable to pull free. Where the Lady Moon's were as vast and deep as the night sky and Father Sun's were like banked coals, the Trickster's were brown like the desert sands, constantly shifting, a restless maze with no exit.

  "What do you want with me?" she whispered.

  He waved his hand and the bodies disappeared. The dunes, too.

  They stood alone on blackened earth like that where she slept.

  "Are they really dead?" she asked, her stomach hollow with fear. "Was that a true vision? Or just a prank?"

  "What? Those people?"

  "Yes."

  He thought about it for a moment. "No. One might die tonight, it's not yet clear, but the others still live."

  "Then why show that to me?" she screamed.

  He slowly transformed until he looked like a young man about her age, his brown hair flopping into his eyes, a mischievous expression on his face. Seemingly harmless, but she knew the truth. He was vicious and cruel no matter what guise he wore.

  "Tell me, K'lrsa dan V'na of the White Horse Tribe. What would you give to never see that happen?"

  "What?"

  "What would you give? To save all those people?"

  She shook her head. "I don't understand what you're asking me. Is that going to happen?"

  "That?" He thought about it a moment. "No."

  He smiled slyly. "The Daliph's men aren't that creative. Such a shame." He shook his head.

  She glared at him, wishing she could wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze, but knowing it was hopeless. "Do you really care so little for the living?"

  He shrugged. "See one man kill another, you've seen them all. Except for the few rare exceptions who try to make it exciting." He sighed. "Of course, the most interesting ones we had, K'var and G'van, are now dead thanks to you."

  "And they deserved it, too." She stepped away from him. "Do you really enjoy watching men die?"

  "No more than I enjoy watching them live. Most people are as boring in death as in life and in life as in death. You really are a tediously dull lot." He eyed her sideways and she was reminded of a desert cat she'd once watched play with its prey before making the final kill.

  She crossed her arms. "What do you want from me? Why am I here?"

  He shrugged. "I thought you might become interesting with proper encouragement."

  "Proper encouragement."

  "Yes. I figured if I reminded you what's at stake…"

  "I already know what's at stake."

  "Do you?" His eyes flashed golden for a moment.

  "Yes. I'm already headed towards the tribes. I'm going to get them to the gathering grounds and then find this weapon and defeat the Daliph's troops."

  "Is that so?"

  "Yes."

  He stared at her with his maze-like eyes. "Hm. Even knowing what it will cost? Interesting…Or perhaps you don't know the cost?" He smiled his wicked little smile. "I hope it's the latter. So much more fun that way."

  "What are you talking about?"

  But he was gone before the words had left her mouth.

  She awoke, shivering, as the first rays of the sun touched the distant horizon.

  "Everything okay?" Badru mumbled, still mostly asleep.

  "Yes. But it's time we got out of this place."

  The sooner she could forget her dream and this awful place, the better.

  Chapter 11

  They made it onto the plains long before midday, the horses as eager to leave that dead, barren place behind as the humans.

  K'lrsa smiled to see her home once more. The brown sere grass, the wide open spaces stretching in every direction with a few straggly trees in the distance.

  She took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of sage and dust.

  They found a small stream she remembered from the journey to Toreem, barely wide enough for a person to stand in, and shallow, but pure, clean water nonetheless. Stripping out of her Rider's leathers which were covered in grime after so much time in the saddle, she knelt in the middle of the stream and poured handfuls of water over her skin, rinsing away the worst of the dirt and dust of travel.

  Before she'd left for Toreem she would've never thought to bathe in water—it was too scarce a resource. She would've been happy to go weeks without even a sweat bath, only giving in when her mother started commenting that Fallion smelled better than she did. She'd never really cared about her appearance or being clean or presentable.

  Seemed the Daliphate had changed her.

  Just a little.

  Now she reveled in the feel of the cool, clear water coursing over her body, washing away all traces of the Daliphate and the Trickster's land. She ducked her head in the stream, scratching her scalp clean, her mind flashing back to Mistress Hawthorne and her absolute horror when she'd had to wash K'lrsa's hair that first time.

  Poor woman. The man she loved was dead and she'd probably never even know it.

  K'lrsa flung her hair back, spraying water everywhere as it slapped against her bare back. It was almost to her waist now. She'd have to trim it soon.

  Badru stood on the bank, goggle-eyed, his mouth half-open as he watched her.

  "What?" She stood, sluicing the water from her skin with her hands.

  "You're naked."

  "Yes. And?" She wished she had one of the soft linen wraps the poradoma had used. She didn't feel like putting her hunting leathers back on just yet. But they were all she had.

  "Someone could see you." He pulled the servant's robe off and threw it at her. "Cover up." He glanced around as if expecting hundreds of men to come running from the barren, empty plains around them.

  She snorted and threw it back at him. "I'm just naked, Badru. What's the big deal?"

  He flushed. "Just naked? No respectable woman…" He trailed into silence as she raised an eyebrow.

  She was about to give him a piece of her mind about Toreem and its view on respectable women and how that wasn't what she would consider worth emulating, when Herin stripped off her own clothes and waded into the stream upriver from K'lrsa.

  "Grandmother!"

  "Pzah, boy. We're not in Toreem anymore. You want to live in the tribes, you'd best get used to a little nudity."

  Garzel stripped down and joined her.

  Badru's eyes bulged. He turned away.

  Herin laughed. "When we reach the tribes men and women will be traipsing around naked all over the place."

  Badru turned slightly—enough so he wouldn't have to see Herin and Garzel, but could still see K'lrsa. "Is that true? Do you all run around naked all the time?"

  She laughed. "No." She beat the dust out of her hunting leathers, scraping away the worst bits of muck with a small rock. "But if it makes
more sense to not wear clothes, then we don't. Easier to wipe a little dirt off your skin than off your hunting leathers."

  She'd never really thought about it, but at any given time there was probably at least one adult running around naked. Or almost naked. And there were always children running around naked. So much easier than trying to keep them and their clothes clean.

  Herin came back out of the stream, using one of the servant's robes to dry herself.

  "So, now what?" K'lrsa asked, putting her clothes back on.

  "Now we find your tribe and warn them." Herin handed the robe off to Garzel and rebraided her hair.

  "And then the others."

  "It may be too late for them."

  "What do you mean?"

  Badru walked down the bank until he was almost out of sight before finally stripping out of his clothes and stepping into the stream. K'lrsa admired his lean, muscular frame until he saw her and turned away, which only served to give her a good look at the back of him, which was just as nice.

  Herin cleared her throat, drawing K'lrsa's attention back to the conversation. "Your tribe is the closest to the gathering grounds. They'll be able to get there ahead of the Daliph's troops as long as we reach them in the next few days and they actually listen to what we have to say. But the other tribes won't have time." She flung the slave's robes on again, grimacing.

  "They might if we hurry."

  Herin shrugged, clearly not agreeing.

  "Then we warn them not to come. The Daliph's troops won't track them down, will they? Especially not when they can flee into the desert."

  Herin narrowed her eyes. "No, not likely they could follow. But if the tribes don't come, you lose anyway."

  K'lrsa, whose attention had been drifting back towards Badru, turned back. "What? Why?"

  "Because they won't be there to vote."

  K'lrsa tilted her head in question.

  "Wasn't it your father who was proposing a vote to expel the Black Horse Tribe?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, how do you think that works?"

  K'lrsa shrugged. She'd never paid much attention to the adult business at the gathering. All she'd ever cared about was seeing her friends and competing against the other Riders.

  Herin rolled her eyes. "At any tribal gathering, anyone can make a proposal. And then any member of the tribe who is there can vote on it. If they're not there, they can't vote."

  "Okay. So, if they don't go, then the Black Horse Tribe isn't expelled. So what? There's always next year."

  "What if the vote is to expel the White Horse Tribe?"

  "What? No! That's not…"

  "Why not? The Black Horse Tribe can propose expulsion of your tribe as easily as you can propose expulsion of them. While you're both still members of the tribes, you each have a say in the direction the tribes take."

  K'lrsa shook her head. "But that's not fair. They want to destroy our way of life. Betray our sacred trust. Kill people."

  "And if enough people agree with them, then that's the way the tribes will go." Herin shrugged. "You, on the other hand, want to hold your people back and deny them the benefits of trade. Medicines. Money. Weapons. All the things that could make life on the plains easier. There might be a fair number of people who vote against you. "

  K'lrsa chewed on her lip. "Then shouldn't we go after the tribes that are farthest away first so we can have as many votes as possible?"

  "It's too late."

  "Then it's too late for all of us, Herin. The tribes farthest away are the ones most likely to be our allies. We have to get them to the gathering grounds or we'll lose."

  "Let's solve one problem at a time. First step, we find your tribe and convince them to hurry their preparations. Then we'll worry about the others. So. Where are they?"

  K'lrsa turned towards the plains as if that would somehow give her the answer. "I'm not sure. They should have moved camp closer to the desert when winter came, but there are a few possible camps they could be at and I don't know which one they chose. If my dad were still alive, I think I know where they'd be, but with him dead…"

  Herin poked her in the chest. "Use your moon stone."

  K'lrsa grimaced. "It doesn't like me."

  The stone contained the knowledge of all its former bearers and, since it was Lodie's, it was like being surrounded by someone else's close family, one that didn't particularly like her.

  K'lrsa reached for the cord around her neck. "Here. You use it."

  Herin took a step back. "No."

  "Because you're not a first-born?"

  "That. And other things. Just ask the stone and get it over with."

  K'lrsa touched the stone and felt a vague vibration, a grudging awareness. "But how? What do I ask it?"

  "How should I know? I've never had one of the things."

  K'lrsa thought of her mother and brother and sister, of the camps along the edge of the desert where they'd likely be. She asked the stone for guidance, help in figuring out where they might be.

  Nothing but the mental equivalent of a sullen shrug.

  She shot back at it with the thought that if it helped her find Lodie it could go back to her and they'd finally be done with one another.

  At that, she felt a spark of interest. And a definite tug towards the far edge of the White Horse Tribe lands and a camp they hadn't used since she was barely able to walk. The tug grew stronger until it was practically dragging her forward.

  She resisted, wondering if that's where her tribe was or if that's where Lodie was. Why would they use that camp?

  The tug of the moon stone became so insistent she took an involuntary step forward.

  "Okay, okay. I'm going." She flung herself onto Fallion's back and held a hand out for Herin to join her.

  "It told you where they are?"

  K'lrsa fought the urge to leave without her. "I don't know," she said, gritting her teeth to resist the call of the stone.

  "What do you mean, you don't know?" Herin hoisted herself up behind K'lrsa.

  K'lrsa managed to hold off until she saw that Garzel and Badru were ready and then the pull of the moon stone was too much. She urged Fallion to a gallop.

  "Slow down." Herin gasped as they pelted across the plains. "You can't exhaust the horses like this."

  But K'lrsa had no choice. The moon stone was driving her forward, demanding that she reach her destination.

  Now.

  Right now.

  The last time that had happened, she'd found her father dying in the desert.

  She hoped this time was different and that the stone just really, really wanted to get rid of her.

  Chapter 12

  Fortunately, Fallion and Midnight were not normal horses, because there was nothing K'lrsa could do to stop the compulsion of the moon stone. They rode through the heat of the sun, sweat pouring off their bodies, dust clogging their noses and throats. They didn't eat, they didn't stop for water.

  The just rode and rode and rode until the sun was about to set, casting shadows before them with the remainder of its light.

  And then it was finally, thankfully over. They stumbled to a halt just outside a baru-hide barrier, the peaks of tents peeking out above it.

  K'lrsa tried not to think about what would've happened if twilight had set before they found the camp. Would the stone have cared? Or would it have driven them right on into the Trickster's grasp?

  She fell from the saddle, grasping at Fallion's side to keep from collapsing.

  At least it was a camp and not a solitary tent or an old woman out in the wild by herself. She'd been worried all day that the stone was driving her to Lodie and that she'd taken off on her own.

  Even though K'lrsa had made Lodie a sister of her blood, it didn't mean K'lrsa's mother would actually welcome her with open arms. (The only person K'lrsa's mother had ever welcomed with open arms was K'lrsa's father. Him she'd loved with her entire being. Maybe it was why she had so little room for anyone else.)

  K'l
rsa approached the camp, noting all the changes, big and small. The barrier was new. And no longer did the tents sprawl far and wide in small groups. Now they huddled close together in the center of the ringed space, all except one tent that looked like it was trying to escape.

  Two Riders stood guard. One had a bow drawn, the arrowhead pointed at her chest.

  The other's hand clutched the knife on his belt, but didn't draw. It was D'lan. Her brother. Tall and proud, with the same hawk-nose as their father. Seven years older than her, he'd always been more like a disapproving father than brother.

  She stepped closer, half-smiling, unsure of her welcome. D'lan tightened his grip until his knuckles were white, staring at her with black eyes.

  She stopped, glancing between him and the other Rider, both men she'd known her whole life. "D'lan?" She asked, half-laughing. "Don't you recognize your own sister?"

  She knew she'd gained some weight in the Daliphate, but surely not that much.

  "Get V'na. Now." D'lan jerked his head at the other guard.

  The guard took off running for their mother while K'lrsa took another step closer. Why had he sent for her mother like that?

  Badru and Garzel dismounted behind her.

  "Stay where you are," D'lan growled, dropping into a fighting stance.

  "D'lan." K'lrsa took another step closer.

  "I said, stay where you are." He spoke through gritted teeth, his eyes flat with menace.

  K'lrsa stopped.

  What was going on here? He'd always been harsh with her, but he'd never treated her like this before.

  Like an enemy.

  Badru came to stand by her side, lacing his fingers in hers. D'lan watched him with that flat gaze, hatred burning through every line of his body.

  She squeezed Badru's hand, never taking her eyes from D'lan. "Go back," she whispered.

  "No. I'm with you to the end."

  "Where's Lodie?" She asked as she heard a commotion coming from the center of camp.

  D'lan glared at her. "So you did send that slave here?"

  "There are no slaves in the tribes. And, yes, I sent her. She has my moon stone to prove it."

  D'lan cracked his jaw, but didn't respond.