Mystic and Rider (Twelve Houses) (21 page)

“We should press on to Rappen Manor, then, and ask her directly where her sympathies lie.”
“Yes,” said Kirra, “I’m afraid we must.”
A short silence followed this exchange. Tayse was about to spur his horse forward so he could watch the road ahead, when Kirra began speaking again.
“Did you hear what he said? About Halchon Gisseltess and the Brassenthwaite girl? What did you make of that?”
“There is bad blood between Gisseltess and half the Twelve Houses,” Senneth said.
“Yes, but I never heard this story before, did you?” Kirra persisted.
“I must admit, I am not entirely up to date on all the gossip pertaining to the aristocracy,” Senneth said in a dry voice.
“But there was an engagement between Gisseltess and Brassenthwaite? And the girl
died
? Surely you might know something about a tale like that.”
“I’m not certain Darryn Rappengrass had the story entirely right,” Senneth said. “I never heard about any Brassenthwaite girl who died.”
“You don’t want to tell me the story,” Kirra said.
There was a short pause. Tayse thought he could feel Senneth’s gaze lingering on his back a moment, as if she knew that he was listening to every word.
“I don’t think anyone knows the whole tale,” Senneth said at last. “Ask your father, when you return home. He might remember it all.”
“He’s married now, though,” Kirra said. “Halchon is. But I can’t remember his wife’s lineage.”
“From a minor house of Gisseltess,” Senneth said.
“One of his own vassals,” Kirra said in a brooding voice. “So there are not likely to be any irate in-laws if he starts making a feint for power.”
“Surely a better match for Halchon than Brassenthwaite, wouldn’t you say?” Senneth said. “If he was looking for complacency in his family connections.”
Tayse heard Kirra sigh. “Yet we might be fabricating this all out of whispers and wind puffs. What we know is that Halchon Gisseltess is hunting mystics on the advice of his sister, who’s styled herself some kind of leader of the Daughters of the Pale Mother. That adds up to discontent but not necessarily to war.”
“But we are not the only ones who are alarmed,” Senneth said in a gentle voice. “And we are here, after all, to learn more about rebellion. I do not think we are so far off the mark.”
“On to Rappen Manor, then,” Kirra said.
 
 
NOT two hours after they’d met with Darryn Rappengrass, the skies began to fill with snow. Tayse, by now some hundred yards in the lead, slowed down when the first flakes began to fall. He sat in the saddle a few moments, gazing up, trying to determine how long the snow might last and how heavy the accumulation might be. The skies looked to be an unending white, mountains of clouds shaking bounty from their cold shoulders. He pulled on the reins and turned his horse back to rejoin the others.
Kirra had her hands outstretched to catch crystals on her gloves. “Look at this,” she said happily, peering upward till flakes tangled in her lashes. “I missed the year’s first snowfall at Danalustrous. Nothing is ever so beautiful.”
“Beautiful and deadly,” Tayse agreed. “Let’s wait here till Justin catches up. I don’t want us separated.”
Senneth gave him an inquiring look. “The road’s not even covered yet,” she said.
Tayse shrugged. “Snow’s one of those things I don’t take chances with. It could be nothing—it could change the whole face of the world. We’ll stay together.”
Justin jogged up at that moment, not surprised to see them halted on the road. “I’ve been trying to remember,” Justin said. “I don’t think there are many towns directly ahead of us. No place to shelter for the night.”
“It’s just a little
snow,
” Kirra exclaimed. “Where did you cowardly boys grow up?”
“I don’t take chances with snow,” Tayse repeated. “Pay attention, and if it gets worse, start looking for cover.”
He glanced at Donnal, thinking that the northern man might greet his caution with the same kind of scorn Kirra was showing. But Donnal had his face tilted up, speculatively eyeing the heavens.
“I don’t think it’s going to stop,” he said quietly. “And you can feel the wind blowing in from the west, colder. We have a hard road ahead of us.”
“We’ll go on for a while,” Tayse said. “See how it goes.”
They went forward as a party of six. Tayse still took point, and Justin still took the rear, since Justin was the only one Tayse could trust not to wander off, seduced by the beauties of nature. The snow came down more and more densely as they rode, till the air itself was thick with it, almost unbreathable. Faster than he would have believed possible, the road was obliterated. The horses were stepping with more and more caution first through one inch of snow, then two, then straining to lift their feet and set them down again in a world made of ice and white.
“This is turning into a blizzard,” Tayse called back to the following riders and pulled his horse across the road to force them to stop. Through the curtain of falling white, he could still see Kirra’s hair, glowing like a yellow flame at the heart of a winter campfire. Her face was hard to make out, but at least she was starting to look a little worried. “We don’t want to get separated.”
“Will we do better to get off the road now?” Senneth asked. “Just pull to the side and wait it out?”
“We might have to,” he replied. “But I’d rather find shelter of some kind. Donnal was right. It’s getting colder. If we don’t find a place we can build a fire, we’re going to pass a pretty chancy night.”
“Surely there’s a farmhouse or something along the road eventually,” Kirra said in an encouraging voice. “Maybe a wayside tavern. This is a well-traveled road.”
“Though you notice no one has passed us for a good hour,” Justin pointed out. “Which means we’re probably riding into the worst of it.”
Tayse played out a length of rope, something he always kept coiled across his saddle. “Tie yourselves together one by one,” he directed. “And if you somehow get lost or separated even so, call out for help.”
In the few minutes it took them to loop the rope around their waists and resume their journey, the air had chilled considerably. Or else the very fact of stalling to confer on the road had brought home to them just how cold it really was. Tayse, in the lead, bent his face against the driving sleet of the storm. He felt his skin redden and then grow numb. His fingers were icy even in his gloves, and he had long ago lost much sensation in his toes. Senneth might have been right; it might be better to simply pull off the road, draw the horses in a circle, and huddle together for whatever warmth they could manufacture.
He heard a faint curse behind him and instantly wheeled around. “What? Who is it?” he demanded.
“Sorry. My hands—I lost the reins and my horse was pulling away,” came Donnal’s voice. He sounded faint with exhaustion. Tayse could barely see him, four riders back, a ghost in a ghostly world.
“Your hands are frozen?” Senneth asked sharply. “Here—give them to me.”
Because of the rope binding them to a certain place in line, it took some maneuvering for Senneth to draw her horse alongside Donnal’s. When she did, she pulled off her gloves and held out her hands to him.
“Don’t be afraid,” she said, a breath of humor in her voice. “Just take your gloves off and give me your hands.”
He complied somewhat slowly—less from apprehension, Tayse thought, than because his fingers would not obey the dictates of his will. His hands looked cramped and white as he extended them toward Senneth. Her own fingers closed over his, and she held on for a long, quiet moment.
The strangest look crossed Donnal’s face, one of bewilderment and wonder. He actually smiled so widely the expression could be seen through the broken screen of snow. “That’s incredible,” he said.
The others crowded a bit nearer. “What? What did she do?” Kirra demanded. “She warmed your hands up?”
“She warmed all of me up,” he said, still smiling. “To my toes. I can’t describe it.”
Instantly, Kirra’s own gloves were off. “Well, I could use a little body heat myself,” she said. “If we aren’t going to stop any time soon.”
Smiling, Senneth took hold of Kirra’s hands, and the transfer of power seemed to occur again. Kirra laughed. “You’re amazing,” she said. “Every time I think I know—you’re just amazing.”
“Do you have enough energy for me?” Cammon asked in a faint voice, and Senneth reached out for him.
“Always,” she said. “I wish I’d thought to do this sooner.”
Tayse’s eyes sought out Justin, sitting stiff and proud in the saddle and trying very hard not to look envious. Tayse had no idea how much longer their ride in the elements would last. “Justin. You next,” he ordered.
Justin looked mutinous. “I’m fine.”
“My command,” Tayse said gently, and Justin shrugged.
“Oh, very well,” the younger Rider said, and stripped off his gloves with an ungracious snap. Tayse watched his face as Senneth closed her fingers over his, saw him try to hold back his astonishment and relief. Better than a good fire, it seemed, or a shot of new whiskey. Better than a night under clean blankets beside a warm body.
Senneth released Justin and turned toward Tayse. She was smiling. “And you, King’s Rider?” she asked. “A mystic’s touch to warm you on your winter ride?”
He bit back an answering smile. He had already pulled his gloves off. His hands were so cold he couldn’t even tell the difference. “Whatever tool comes to hand on an afternoon such as this,” he said and reached out to her.
Her fingers were warm as they closed over his, and that in itself was enough to make him feel grateful on this bitter day. But a strange thing happened as she clung to him, though her grip did not tighten and he felt no particular burning in her hands. The ice in his veins melted backward, down his wrist, past his elbow; heat flowed across his shoulders and through his spine. It was as if someone had taken a fresh coal and brushed it against his skin, up one arm and down the other, then paused to apply some warmth to his knees and ankles and toes. It was a gradual but generous heat, never fiery or uncomfortable, and he felt his mood and his body hearten as the cold was vanquished.
“Well,” he said, sure that he looked as impressed and ridiculous as the others. “That
is
quite a welcome skill on a cold day.”
“I think I’m strong enough to ride another four hours,” Kirra said blithely.
Tayse glanced up at the sky, trying to judge the temper of the heavens, before it occurred to him to drop Senneth’s hands. “I’m not sure we’ll last another four hours,” he said. “This may not stop till tomorrow morning.”
“Can’t she stop the snow?” Justin blurted out.
They all looked at him. “You mean, can
I
stop the snow?” Senneth repeated. “Why would you think that?”
Justin waved one of those recently warmed hands. “Start a fire. Shoot some heat up into the heavens. Heat up the whole world.”
Senneth laughed soundlessly. “I don’t think my power is strong enough to stretch to the clouds,” she said. “I could melt the snow ahead of us on the road, but what a quagmire we would be riding through then! If we come to a halt for the night, I can try to keep us warm—but I can’t stop the snow from falling. It might turn to rain above our heads, but I don’t know that we’d be much better off.”
Tayse nodded. “Not a good option,” he said. “Let’s ride on.”
CHAPTER 12
 
T
HEY had been riding for about an hour before Senneth’s little spate of magic began to wear off. Even then, Tayse thought, neither his hands nor his feet were quite as painfully cold as they had been before. But he was beginning to feel chilled throughout his body, down his back, through to his lungs—and he knew that if he, who could go on forever, was beginning to feel weary, the others must be close to dropping straight out of their saddles. They would have to stop then, in the middle of nothingness, and try to build a shelter of their own bodies. He hoped Senneth’s power would be able to keep them all warm during a night that promised to be frigid as the Pale Mother’s breath.

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