Into the Shadows by Linda K Hopkins
Chapter 6
Lark woke with a fright and gave a startled cry when she saw a face leaning over her.
“Pip,” she hissed, “what are you doing?”
“It’s almost dawn. I thought you wanted an early start. I’ve already been to the stables and had the horses saddled.”
“Urgh!” Lark sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Fine. I just need a few minutes to get dressed. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
As Pip left the room she rose from her bed and sleepily began to pull on the clothes that Neta had taken out the night before. The pants were much tighter than she remembered, and the buttons across the bodice strained, gaping across her chest. She grimaced at herself in the mirror, but it was too late to find another outfit, and she doubted that there was even anything suitable to wear. Her calf length boots fitted well, however, with their soft leather, dainty buckles, and two-inch heels. Sitting down at her table, she pulled the brush through her hair and twisted it into a long braid that swung down her back. Her gaze fell on the small celeste earnings that Pip had given her, and she quickly pushed them through her ears, forgoing her other jewelry. Taking her cloak from a hook, she headed to the door. It would be warm later in the day, but for now she would need something to ward off the early morning chill.
Leaving the room, she made her way down the passage. A guard stood waiting, and she let out a soft sigh; Neta clearly had decided that Lark should not be riding alone. She consoled herself with the fact that the commander remained unaware of her early morning excursion and gave the guard a brief nod. He fell in behind her as she headed down the stairs and made her way to the stables, where a young stable boy stood in the courtyard holding Beauty’s reins. The black jennet had been a gift to Lark when she turned sixteen, as was the chestnut palfrey that Pip held as he chatted to the groom. A third groom held a skittish stallion for the guard, who mounted as one accustomed to spending days in the saddle.
Pip led the way out of the yard a few minutes later and turned onto the road that led into the city. The horses’ hooves rang loudly against the paving, breaking the morning silence. In the east, the sky was beginning to lighten, a mix of grays and pale pinks.
“We’ll leave Lenora through the north gate,” Pip said as they reached the bridge that spanned the river. “I’m on good terms with the warden there, and he’ll not make a fuss at opening the gate early.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Lark said. Reds were starting to streak across the sky, the colors reflected in the placid waters of the Cambria. In early spring the river was a raging torrent, but at this time of the year it flowed lazily through the city, allowing the citizens of Lenora to play in its shallows. In the distance, the masts of ships stood in stark contrast to the soft light as they lay at anchor on the south side of the city.
The guard brought up the rear in silence, although a quick glance over her shoulder showed Lark that beneath his helmet, his eyes were wide and alert. He wore leather armor over his chest, and a sword hung at his side. They had passed through the old city when he trotted up beside Lark.
“How far are you planning to go, my lady?” he asked.
“We will head out of the city for a little bit,” Lark said. “Allow the horses some free rein. It’s been such a long time since I’ve taken Beauty out.” She leaned forward and stroked her horse’s neck. She had forgotten how much enjoyment riding gave her and was looking forward to feeling the wind against her face. The guard frowned but remained silent as he fell back behind her.
They reached the gate, where they brought the horses to a stop. Three inches thick and twenty feet high, it was topped with a row of sharp iron points, upon which sat the rotting heads of numerous Rhymer marauders. It was closed against intruders, and they waited as the warden stepped out, pulling up his braces. As Pip called out a greeting, he looked at the three riders then glanced at the lightening sky with a sigh. Rubbing his hand over his face, he pulled from his pocket a large key which he inserted into an equally large iron lock as Pip chatted amiably. The key turned with a grating sound, and the warden pulled open the enormous gate, leaning back with all his weight as it opened one inch at a time. Switching sides, he leaned in and slowly pushed the gate wide. Pip waited until the gate was half open before calling his thanks to the warden and heading through the gap and onto the road beyond. There were already people traveling towards the city despite the early hour, and the trio skirted around carts and pedestrians as they headed against the flow of travelers and vendors.
A few miles past the gate Pip veered from the road onto a dirt track, wide enough to ride two abreast. It led through a wide-open field of long grass, dotted with small purple flowers and edged in the distance by trees. Loosening the reins as she followed the dirt track through the grass, Lark allowed her horse to pick up its pace. She heard the guard speeding up behind her, and she leaned down into the wind, urging Beauty to go faster as Pip kept pace beside her. Her braid slapped across her back and she congratulated herself on her foresight in forgoing the hat that Neta had encouraged her to wear. They slowed as they reached the woods, ducking beneath some low-hanging branches, and followed the path through the trees, turning north. A carpet of green and white covered the forest floor, while birds twittered in the thick canopy of leaves.
“I think it’s safest if my lady heads back now,” the guard called out behind them.
“I doubt we’ll run into danger here,” Lark replied. “We’ll continue to the river.”
“The commander will not be pleased when he learns of this.”
“You’re right, he will not,” Lark said. She saw relief cross the guard’s face and almost felt guilty for her next words. “However, we’ll keep going up to the Teesbeck.”
“That far?” The guard looked aghast. “The commander –”
“Is not here to be concerned,” Lark interrupted firmly. “There are three of us and we are perfectly safe.”
“You could always go back and fetch some other guards,” Pip suggested helpfully. The guard gave him a narrowed look, then gestured for them to continue.
The sun had risen fully now, and Lark was grateful for the trees which provided protection from the bright rays as they continued toward the river. The temperature dropped as they neared the water, and after a few more minutes the river came into view, tumbling over rocks that lay in its path. Lark drew Beauty to a halt and breathed in deeply, the smell of the river mingling with the rich scent of the earth. A kingfisher sat on a low branch overhanging the river, and she watched as it dived into the water, missing its quarry and coming up empty. Pip handed Lark and the guard some fruit and cheese that he had stowed in his saddle bag, and Lark accepted them gratefully; she had not realized how hungry she was until that moment.
They continued along the banks of the river once they were done eating, and it was mid-morning when they reached the place where the Teesbeck joined the Cambria. Lark felt a pang of guilt when she thought of Neta, who would have expected her back hours ago, but she pushed the thought aside. She would deal with the handmaid’s annoyance upon her return, along with whatever reprimand the commander saw fit to give her, although she was not sure what he would be most angry about – that she and Pip had left the city, or that their doing so had necessitated the services of a guard. She looked over at the man riding a few feet behind her. She never paid much attention to the guards who were sent to watch over her – they rarely remained at the post for more than a few days, being constantly shifted in their duties so they did not become complacent. This man looked to be a few years older than her and would probably be relating the escapades of his troublesome charge to some family member at the end of the day.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
He looked startled but answered her readily. “Elan, my lady.”
“Are you joined?”
“Yes, my lady, just last year.”
“Any children yet?”
“A son. Just three weeks old. It’s why I am currently serving the Palace Guard.”
“You’re a Crimson Guard?” Pip asked.
“I was. I hope to remain in the Palace Guard as long as I can.”
“I’m sure your wife is happy to have you safely at home,” Lark said with a smile.
“Indeed, especially with all the trouble up north.”
“So instead of fighting the Rhymers, you have to protect an obstinate lady,” Pip said with a laugh.
Elan grinned. “I wouldn’t have worded it quite like that, young lord, but yes.”
“It’s for a good reason,” Lark said. “I’m going to collect herbs that will help Lady Finch.”
“Help her, how?”
“She gets terrible headaches. Madam Breena said this might help.”
He frowned. “Could you not have sent someone to fetch them for you?”
“That was my intention, but I was not having much success. When Pip suggested that I could do with an adventure, I decided that I agreed.”
“I see. If you’d stated the purpose for your journey at the start, my lady, I would have been a more willing participant. I am quite happy to be of assistance.”
“And incur the wrath of the commander?”
Elan shrugged. “I clearly couldn’t stop you, anyway.”
“It’s not too much further, and we’ll return directly. We should make it back in time for afternoon tea.”
“Very well. What exactly are we looking for?”
“A waterfall,” Pip said. “And I think I hear it.” Sure enough, when Lark listened, she could hear water tumbling over rocks. They rounded some trees, and the waterfall came into view.
“Is this the place?” Elan asked.
“Madam Breena said the herb grows behind a waterfall on the Teesbeck,” Lark explained, “so this must be it.”
She pulled Beauty to a stop and slipped from the saddle, flinging her cloak over the horse’s back. “Look.” She pointed to stones that rose like a staircase beside the cascading water. “Those must lead behind the waterfall.”
“I’ll go,” Elan said. “At least I can protect you from tumbling down the falls, even if I can’t get you to remain within the city!”
“Be careful,” Lark said. “They don’t look very safe.”
“I’ve dealt with worse, my lady,” Elan said, taking a knife from his saddle bag.
“You’re going to need these,” Lark said, handing him a pair of gloves. One of the gardeners had carelessly left them lying around the previous day, and she had quickly claimed them for her errand. “Madam Breena said that the barbs are poisonous.”
Elan eyed the gloves uneasily. “Poisonous?”
“Are you nervous?” Pip teased. Elan shot him an annoyed look, and Pip grinned.
“Just don’t let them touch your skin and you’ll be fine,” Lark said. “Pull the plants up by the roots.”
Elan pulled on the gloves and tucked the knife into his belt before placing his foot on the first of the rocks. Using his hands to steady himself, he made his way up the boulders as Lark watched. She breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped onto the ledge and disappeared behind the wall of water. He re-emerged a few minutes later grasping a handful of plants by the roots. Cautiously, he picked his way back down the rocks, then turned and held up the plants. “All this way for these?” he asked. Lark had to agree that they did not look like much. She could only trust that Madam Breena knew what she was doing.
She opened her mouth to reply, then froze when Elan’s gaze shifted to something past her shoulder. An expression she could not interpret crossed his face and he flung the plants to the ground and drew his sword. She spun around as the guard rushed past her, the speed of his movement making her hair flutter. A spray of blood flew through the air and she cried out as Elan stopped midstride and dropped to the ground, his sword slipping from his grasp and onto the forest floor. A blade, wider than a man’s hand, protruded through his back. She stared at the blade in disbelief, then watched as it was yanked out and Elan fell onto his side in the dirt. The fall knocked his helmet from his head, and she could see the blood dribbling from the corner of his lips as his eyes stared unseeing at the trees around them.
I don’t know the name of his son, she thought as she stared at Elan’s lifeless body. Behind her, Pip cried her name, and she slowly raised her eyes, then drew in a shocked breath that froze in her lungs as she stared at the visage before her.