Page 150 of Unrivaled
It was all true, and more.
This close, I could see the way she drew in deep, slow breaths, the way the hard fabric around her torso struggled to contain the power of them.But her hands didn’t shake.
On the field the man bowed to Audrey, and his horse knelt.It was a detail thrown in for those on this side of the Ranges.Anyone who knew horses properly knew that training had nothing to do with deference, but with loading on an injured rider.
Audrey acknowledged it with her own curtsey, scandalously low.Lady to cavalryman should’ve got naught but the merest flick of her skirts even in a formal setting.Given how many people were giving her the sort of courtesy reserved for a duchess, that would keep them all a-twitter for a goodly time.
While they were talking about that, hopefully they wouldn’t notice the traders leaving the city early with a few girls I was relocating.
The man turned to face east, lifted the horn in his hand, and blew out the first long, somber notes.
Quiet settled slowly, like a gentle snow across the arena.I didn’t look around, focusing all my attention on the player in the field, standing alone, as the tune went from somber to quick, almost playful in its urgency.Come join us,it said.You’re needed.Then the long, somber notes came again, and a heaviness sat on my chest.
If I hadn’tknownit was played the morning after a cavalry group was scattered, if I didn’t know it was synonymous with both grieving those fallen and recovering those lost, I didn’t know if I would’ve felt that infuriating weight.
As the notes continued, cycling through the long, somber calls and the urgent summons I was back in my forests, the smell of rain and decaying leaves filling my head, my body aching with exhaustion, laying still.Listening.Too tired to do more than let the thoughts spin helplessly.
Was it wind through leaves, or perusers?
Were those soft footfalls coming closer?Going away?
Might they belong to an ally?Were they hurt?
The quiver against my leg was empty.The knife in my hand was nicked.I was a three-day run from the nearest tribe, alone.Lost.It was the first time I’d felt lost and alone since I’d found the tribes.
I hadn’t cried then, but hearing the horn blowing and the eerie quiet around us, the tears rose now.
None of my Sisters had been hurt.I’d got lost all by myself, made a stupid mistake, and tangled with an enemy we could’ve avoided.It had taken weeks for those blisters to heal.
I swallowed it away, wiggling my toes aggressively in the comfortable riding boots no one would see under the beautiful dress.We’d never have used a horn to call our Sisters.We’d never declare our position so arrogantly.
But the wet-behind-the-ears warrior I’d been would’ve been ever so grateful if, just once, we had.
Being alone after you thought you’d found your sanctuary was a different sort of horror.
I drew in a breath and blinked away the tears I refused to let fall, trying my best to ignore the hypnotic lone horn.To the side, Thomas stood, stone-faced.On the other side, Chay had tears on his face.In the stands plenty had hands to their mouths, kerchiefs to their eyes.
I didn’t know what Audrey’s expression said, or whether she stood, dry-eyed, but her posture hadn’t changed.
She stood alone, but she wasn’t lost.I hoped there was no horror in it for her.
When the music finally ended, the silence was astounding.
I was back in the forest.Rain fell on my head, the icy drops crawling slowly into my hair to slide against my scalp then run down my neck into my leathers.Every drop hitting a leaf, a branch, the mud on the ground, could have disguised someone’s approach.Beneath the rain, there was nothing.No sound.Just my own breath and the roar of my heart in my ears.
Desperately, I focused on my breathing, putting myself back at the top of the tower, Audrey at my side.Safe.Preparing for the day.Stable.Safe.Acknowledge the memories, put them aside.I imagined the cold stone beneath my hipbones as I sat, the mild discomfort of the cross-legged position, the sound of Audrey’s breath.Chay would come in at some point.
I swallowed the tears and held myself there, in my new sanctuary, until I heard Audrey say, into the quiet, “From the dawn to the dusk, through settling dust, lest we forsake our fellows.”
The words were called through the crowd on the ground by the announcers, repeated by those who knew the words in the stands.I ducked my head, wiping my eyes.
The soldier with his horn and his horse had already left the field.Though ceremonial only, I couldn’t deny the lack of response to his call left me feeling unsettled.
The archers who jogged onto the field to take up their stations did so before a serious crowd.Where usually shouts of joy were common, now the calls that came, often from their companions, were calls of victory.
The sword portion usually happened on the first day to give them time to rest, while giving no time to the jousters in the afternoon.I’d heard people speculate that was why Audrey had re-ordered the events.In reality, it was to allow the archers and riders who didn’t place and who didn’t want to stay time to leave the city.Traffic flow was always bad during a tourney, much less with the added pressure of the faire.With so few locals competing today, disillusioned visitors leaving early would free the roads up just a little.
Audrey stood.She walked, sometimes grasping the banister and leaning forward, intent on the field, sometimes turning to speak to those near enough.Before too long Yasmine arrived, as they’d arranged.I slipped out, going into the cool, quieter rooms to rest my feet and gather myself before throwing an overdress and cloak over my outfit in order to circulate, keeping my ears out for any news.
