Page 22 of Crown of Iron
He bristles and stands tall, ready for what has become our daily routine. I lift the brush and stroke it through his black mane. He and Nortus have become my stress relievers. I stop by the stables or corrals several times a day. It doesn't matter how much I ache or how tired I am, they have a way of making me forget. They shower me with attention and listen while I voice my frustrations. The horses are my tiny reprieve in endless, grueling days.
Not that everything is barked orders and pure intimidation. Up until last night, I thought I was making progress with Kyron's top officers.Although Ulric and Terro handed me over to the farming unit of retired soldiers and their spouses, they occasionally check on me, but I wish I had more time to talk with them. When I’m working the gardens, I can see them training with the other soldiers. The maneuvers look grueling, but I’m eager to join the others. But after what I overheard, I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance.
Despite the death-glare she gives me each night I pass her room, Greer isn't completely terrible. In fact, I think I understand her a bit. Around here, the most respected are not necessarily the biggest, strongest, or fastest; it’s those who can lead and fight. As Kyron's second in command, she spends day in and day out proving she is worthy of her rank. From what I’ve witnessed, she does a damn fine job of it. I've seen her take down people double her size during drills, and she didn't even become short of breath. I respect her even if she’ll never see me as worthy to be under her command.
Brushing off the negative thoughts, I dig in my satchel for a treat while Samson rubs the top of his head against my shoulder. “Who knew you were such a lover, Sammy?” I kiss his nose and hand him an apple.
“Or just a con artist, who has finally learned how to get fed by a pretty girl.”
I spin around, my heart hammering in my chest.
Kyron props his arms on top of the stall's gate with a stoic expression. His power surges, nudging at me, pleading to let it in so it can pull me down into its warm darkness. Part of me considers giving into its lure, letting it lull me into its sinister embrace.
I take a step back and busy myself with rubbing the side of the horse's face. “It gets lonely out here. He just needed to know someone cared.”
“He's a warhorse.”
I turn my attention fully to the animal. “Even those who have fought in the most gruesome wars need love. Don't they, Sammy?”
He stomps a hoof and presses his cheek to mine.
Kyron releases the lock on the gate with a flick of his wrist and steps inside the stall. A chill runs up my spine. The effects of the general's powers are a mixture of adrenaline and nausea inside of me. How can others feel this way around him and still think he has the best intentions for Lucent? I could never trust someone who unsettles me so much. Which leads me to wonder what sinister quest he’s setting out on this morning.
Kyron hoists a heavy black saddle onto Samson's back.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Taking my?horse out for a ride.” He pats him on the side of the neck and Samson proudly bristles.
When he bends down to tighten the saddle around the horse’s body, I mouth the wordsyou could have warned me. I'd spent the last few days pouring my heart out to the animal. He knows every deep, dark concern I have for his rider. Yet, he just carries on eating my apples and nuzzling my neck. Maybe heisa swindler just like his owner says, and I’ve been the fool who has fallen for it.
Kyron stands and brushes the hay from his knees.
A need to protect my new animal friend surges within me. “Isn't Samson a little too old to be on the battlefield? He has to be about fifteen.”
“Now you're an expert in horses?” he asks.
“No, but I'm very familiar with them.”
He pets the animal's hindquarter while looking him over. “He's twelve. I started training him myself when he was a colt. I'm sure he still has a few good years left in him.”
“My father always went on about how something magical happens when you teach a wild horse to trust you. Training horses was one of his favorite things to do.”
I clamp my mouth shut and puff my cheeks, unsure why I felt compelled to share a memory. The last thing I should do is waste time pretending we are on cordial terms, but it's been so long since I spoke about my father without discussing his current situation. For a year, every thought has been of him with the Stigian queen, bending to her will, letting her drain him of his power. This isn't the time for self-realization, to understand I've been so caught up in where my father is that I've done a dishonor towhohe is.
The general needs to be on his way, and I need to keep my mouth shut. The sooner he's on his horse, the sooner I can mount mine and follow him.
I bite the inside of my lip, fighting the urge to growl in frustration, and walk past him. “Well, don't let me hold you up. Enjoy your ride,” I say, forcing myself to sound blasé.
“Thanks,” he grunts and leads Samson out of the stable.
As soon as the doors close behind him, I run for Nortus' stall and grip his reins. Keeping my horse behind me at the door, I peer out throughthe wooden slats. Kyron climbs onto Samson's saddle and spurs him into motion. I push the doors open and rush my horse out. After securing the stable, I climb onto Nortus and wait until Kyron is far enough ahead that he won’t hear us chasing him.
The general is a blur of brown and black with a horse's tail, racing through the forest surrounding Basecamp. He darts around trees and ducks under branches. His easy movements show that he has taken this path many times. The same can't be said for me. Leaves smack me in the face and Nortus' jerky movements to avoid rocks and trunks jostle me around the saddle. More than once, I fear I'll end up on my ass on the forest floor.
Tall grass and a lake greet us when we break free of the woods. Kyron and Samson run toward the water's edge, but I steer Nortus along the treeline for quick cover. The blue water of the lake reflects the early morning sun, every ray glimmering off its still surface. Birds sing a sweet song in the trees and butterflies flutter above the purple and yellow wildflowers. I wish I could spur Nortus into a gallop outside the shadows and bask in the fresh air and light.
My chance to feel the sun on my skin comes when Kyron rounds the lake and disappears into the trees on the other side. My heart pounds with the beat of Nortus' hooves and dread bubbles inside me. If I lose the general, I lose my chance to learn what he's up to and bend it to my will. I can't let that happen, and I refuse to wait for him and his soldiers to accept me.
