Karigan gave him a sidelong look. She’d had access to numerous fine horses in her father’s stables herself as she grew up, and so she thought his opinion of Sophina unfair. However, she refrained from mentioning this fact to Elgin or reminding him of her own father’s wealth.

“Does Graft look happy to you with Sophina riding him?” he asked.

Karigan had to admit he did not. His was a plodding sort of canter, and he chomped on his bit in discontent; it was true Sophina looked like she would be much happier in a sidesaddle on some fine hunter riding with others of her own class.

“Wait till Riggs puts them in mounted combat training,” Elgin said with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Then Sophina will learn something, and I hope she does. I hope they all do because it’ll mean their survival.”

He was right, Karigan reflected. Riders rode in all conditions and under many circumstances. Fighting from horseback would be a whole new discipline for the young Riders to learn as it had been for her. All of her training with Arms Master Drent was fine and good. Dismounted. Wielding a sword from atop a horse required an entirely different set of skills.

“We want them to come back,” Elgin murmured. “We always want that.”

Elgin suddenly seemed to no longer see the Riders in front of him. Karigan thought he must be thinking of those in the past. She knew little of his history, but wondered what Riders he had lost. She observed him closely, saw a muscle jump in his cheek and the subtle tightening of his weathered features.

“Command is never easy.” His voice was so soft Karigan thought he spoke more to himself. “Give an order, never know if they’ll make it back.”

Karigan thought to ask questions, to gently delve into his past, but a Green Foot runner approached at that moment with a summons from Captain Mapstone. She bade Elgin good-bye, and minutes later when she reached officers quarters, the captain opened the door and ushered her in.

The captain’s chamber served both as both her living quarters and her office and was on the whole spare of personal adornment. However, books, ledgers, and other records crammed shelves, and a barrel full of maps was tucked into a corner. Her worktable was strewn with papers and a few mugs filled with the dregs of old tea. The light was dim, for like the castle itself, officers quarters were built of stone with only arrow slits allowing outside light in. The captain, Karigan knew, did not spend a great deal of time here, for she was often in the castle attending the king and sitting in on meetings.

“Have a seat, Karigan,” the captain said, then proceeded to scratch away on a paper with her pen, seemingly oblivious to her Rider’s presence.

Karigan sat in a chair before the worktable, awaiting her captain’s pleasure and wondering why she’d been summoned. Perhaps she’d be sent on an errand after all, though it was usually Mara who passed on those orders. Maybe the captain wanted to discuss her progress on the ledgers and payroll. Whatever it was, she did not mind the diversion.

The captain scribbled on for some moments, her expression intense. In the dim light, it appeared to Karigan that there was a little more white mixed in the captain’s red hair than she remembered, a few more careworn lines along her eyes. However, when finally the captain set her pen aside and looked up at Karigan, her hazel eyes were as lively as ever.

“Deadlines,” the captain said, by way of explanation, and she sprinkled sand on wet ink. She folded her hands together atop the worktable and gazed steadily at Karigan for some moments. “How goes your work with the accounts?”

Karigan described her struggles, but she wasn’t sure the captain was hearing everything she said, though she made affirmative noises at the appropriate moments.

When she finished, the captain said, “We need to find someone else who can assist with accounts, and take over when you are on an errand. Mara is an excellent Chief Rider, but dealing with accounts is not one of her strengths. I’ll have Elgin keep an eye out for someone who might do, and then you can train him or her up to your standards.”

“That would be helpful, I guess,” Karigan said. As much as she disliked taking care of Rider accounts, she feared that adding another person into the process would only muddle things up all the more.

When she noticed the captain still gazing at her with an intense look on her face, Karigan surmised the summons was not actually about Rider accounts at all.

The captain abruptly stood, rounded the table, and leaned against its edge with arms folded. Again there was the scrutiny, as if she were trying to see into Karigan’s soul and make up her mind about something. Karigan shifted in her chair. She hadn’t been concerned by Captain Mapstone’s summons when she came to officers quarters, but now she was beginning to worry.

“I wish to discuss an errand with you,” the captain said. “One that will be, for the moment, between you and me. I request that you do not speak of it to anyone else.”

“Of course,” Karigan said.

The captain nodded, then said, “There is no easy way to broach this other than to just say it. Karigan, I need to send you into Blackveil.”

It was as though a crater opened beneath Karigan and she fell, the world rushing past her, the weight of dread speeding her on.

ON THE ROOF

Karigan blanched, but she said nothing, issued no protest, did not request Laren to reconsider. Laren did not know how anyone was supposed to react to the news that they were being sent into Blackveil Forest, but she certainly did not expect Karigan’s stillness.