Page 42 of Chained Knight

What was he wearing under all that iron?

He nodded, briskly, and moved away. A moment later he was in the saddle as well. Hannixe’s equine stepped close to Ari’s, and the entire group set off. Majan and Alzarien vanished into the thinning mist ahead at a trot, but the others arranged themselves around the two women at an amble. Darjeth’s grin was visible even under the shadow of his hat.

Ari gripped the reins hard, hoping she wasn’t going to embarrass herself. The white equine’s rolling gait was reasonably easy, she supposed, and maybe they could find more magic pondwater for any blisters that might occur.

Did these people get blisters? If they were aliens maybe they wouldn’t, but…

Another day full of dangerous questions stretched before her. The mist thinned still further, and as the last few houses receded they turned off the road, onto rolling grassland.

23

FAIRYLAND RULES

If she thoughtof this as a road trip, Ari discovered it became possible to enjoy a horseback hike. It was certainly faster than walking. She watched Hannixe carefully, copying the other woman’s sway in the saddle, holding reins in the same fashion.

Fringes of woodland cut across grassy undulations, their shadows cool and inviting. Grass touched the equines’ bellies in places so the entire group looked like bobbing swimmers, and a tang of mint rode the soft sweet breeze when juicy blades were crushed under shod hooves.

The chained man was a black blot at the head of the group, and Jazarl’s men took turns splitting off in pairs ahead and behind, vanishing almost as soon as they left despite the paucity of hiding places. Keners joined Majan halfway through the morning, with a single burning glance at Hannixe, and she sighed as he faded from view.

“He worries,” she said, softly. “But this is much safer than the Road, or the lands near the Keep. Now that you have the Carcanet, of course, there is far less danger.”

The necklace, hidden under Ari’s mantle, gave another soft reassuring pulse of warmth. It seemed almost alive, or maybe she was just uncomfortable thinking about the other woman who had worn it.

Their queen, their Moon.

Hannixe apparently expected a reply, so Ari cleared her throat. “It’s very light.” She watched the chained man crest a slight hill, his dark head turning as he scanned the grass ocean, the thickening archipelagos of woods both evergreen and deciduous.

“For you, yes. Another attempting its use would not find it so.” Hannixe seemed part of her horse’s rhythm; its hide almost exactly matched her cloak. “Look,geserin. They gave the village its name.” She pointed at a mound of bushes loaded with small white flowers.

“Geserin,” Ari echoed, attempting to place the accent correctly. The other woman was full of plant trivia; if she wasn’t a botanist, she gave a damn good impression of one.

“Just so. They are used to flavor certain tinctures, and give a sweet scent to bedding.” The breeze teased at Hannixe’s grey mane, lifting curls and bringing a becoming flush to her soft cheeks. She glanced sideways, as if gauging Ari’s reaction. “Little medicinal benefit, but each bloom has its place.”

Here was another chance to make an ally. At least Ari could feel good about that. “You know a lot of plants.”

“Never enough, though I thank you for the compliment.” A slight drooping motion, giving the impression of a curtsy even while in the saddle. “Herbs do not wholly make a healer, for all they help immensely. And you have ever loved flowers—I should ask, my lady Ari, do you like them now?”

“Flowers are good.” So far, she was doing reasonably well. At least she wasn’t embarrassing herself. “And it’s just Ari, please.My ladysounds a little… formal.” A subtle social gambit, askingto be upgraded from stranger to acquaintance. It took time, even if the other person was amenable.

“Ah, it is our habit.” Hannixe’s smile was a wonder. If Burne-Jones saw her he might well expire on the spot, or start painting a slightly less sacred triptych. “But I will address as it pleases you.”

That was even more encouraging. “Can I ask… the Moon-lady, your queen. What was her name?”

“Your name is Ari, is it not? Ariadne.” Hannixe tested the word, and now she was attempting to mimic Ari’s accent instead of the other way ’round. “’Tis beautiful.”

“No, I mean before.”When your queen was strangled. No wonder they didn’t want to talk about it; the event seemed traumatic as fuck. Now they were on their way to the Mere, maybe for some ceremony or to meet other resistance fighters; Ari had to find out what would be expected of her. “The misfortune.”

“I cannot say.” Hannixe sobered. “The grief, the pain—it was too much, you understand. The shock whenhefound you on the shore of the Mere killed a great many of us.”

“Us?” Ari took a deep breath, reshuffling her list of theories and questions. Maybe the name thing obeyed ancestor-worship rules, or fairytale ones?

Which was a sobering thought. Especially its corollary—whichset of laws, precisely? Were all fairytales about this planet with its red giant sun and scarless, plate-dish moon, or were there others in the universe just waiting for people to happen onto them?

“Your companions, my lady. Some from the Whispering, others from the mortal realm.” Hannixe glanced to her right; Sarle was riding there, but too far away to hear the conversation.

Grass rippled in vast sea-patterns, and the sheer seamless reality of this place hit Ari again. If this was Tir nan Og or adifferent dimension instead of a separate planet, was her own world zooming ahead on fast-forward without her?

Being tossed back into her own dimension as a Rip van Winkle sounded distinctly unappetizing. But maybe the statute of limitations would have run out?

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