Blades of the Old Empire (7 page)

Ellah straightened in the saddle and looked around. For the past two hours the path had been climbing steadily upward, until it finally ascended above the line of bushes onto a plateau. After riding through the undergrowth, with low branches slapping across her face or holding on to her with sticky fingers, it was nice to feel the wind and enjoy the view that opened up around them. A wavy line of bushes to the left marked the path of a stream, carving its uneven way from the distant hills barely visible on the horizon, down to the Lakelands. On their right, the blue haze descended to the flatness that concealed the wide waters of Lake Illitand.

The path was so narrow they had to ride in single file. In front of her was the tail end of Odara Sul’s sand-colored mare. Whenever she glanced behind, Ellah could see Lothar, a Ruby Majat, riding a chestnut gelding at a measured distance of exactly five strides. It was a comfortable arrangement that left her with very little to do except dodge the branches and enjoy the view.

She realized the interruption when Odara Sul’s horse came to a stop, halting everyone in her wake. At first Ellah didn’t make much of it, using the extra time to stretch her back and take a full breath of air. Then she started to hear the sounds of argument carrying down the line of riders with the gusts of wind.

“…find a way around,” Mother Keeper’s voice floated in.

“…knew there was a bridge but didn’t know it was just a…” Evan’s voice replied.

“…for the locals. They probably don’t want anyone else to…”

Odara Sul rode off the path onto the grass and made her way to the head of the procession. Ellah followed, bypassing another Ruby, Brannon, to level up with Mother Keeper.

The sight that opened up in front of her was so unexpected that she pulled on the reins too hard, causing the horse to toss its head and make an abrupt stop. The path ahead ended in an abyss. From where she was, Ellah could see steep cliffs cascading down the gorge to the stream, so far below that the sound of running water was no more than an echo on the rising wind.

A narrow bridge made of two logs placed side by side and tied together with waxed coils of rope ran across the chasm. It was barely wide enough for one person to walk across. There was no rail on its side.

Ellah froze. She had always been afraid of heights. Back in the Forestlands where she grew up with Kyth and Alder, she could never climb a tree, no matter how much fun other children made of her. Despite her longing to share their games, she had always stayed clear of the observation platform the brothers built up on the tall oak at the edge of their grove when they were twelve. She was even afraid to stand up on a stool at home to get the dishes from the top shelf. And now, staying on horseback within three lengths from the chasm, made her stomach turn.

Everyone was dismounting and Ellah followed, anxious to feel the firm ground beneath her feet. She stood aside, listening to the conversation.

“Isn’t there another way?” Mother Keeper insisted.

King Evan shrugged. “Not that I know of. Finding a way around might take days. For all I know, our best chance would be to retrace our steps all the way to the main road.”

There was a pause as everyone surveyed the scenery. It didn’t look any better now that Ellah’s pounding heart had slowed enough for her to be able to think straight. There was absolutely no way they could go forward from here. They would have to return to the main road and take their chances with the Holy Knights.

It didn’t seem so bad a choice, considering.

“The bridge looks sturdy enough,” Mai said. “I’m sure it can hold the horses, if we lead them across one by one.” He exchanged glances with the Rubies, each of them giving a barely perceptible nod.

Ellah’s heart missed a beat. Was he
out of his mind
?

“
Horses
?” Odara Sul exclaimed, echoing her thoughts. “You can’t possibly mean it, Aghat! Horses would never be able to walk on logs. You know how they tend to prance sideways? They’d step off to their deaths! And even if they don’t pull any of us down with them, how far do you think we can get in this wilderness without mounts?”

Mai shrugged. “You should give horses more credit, my lady. They can walk in a straight line just like everyone else.”

“But –”

“Aghat Mai is very good with animals, my lady,” Lothar put in. “If he says it can be done–”

“However good with animals he is, I don’t think –”

A short glance from Mai made Odara stop.

“I’ll lead my horse over first,” Mai said. “If you have any doubts after that, we can discuss it further.”

Odara Sul didn’t seem convinced, but she had obviously run out of arguments. Mother Keeper came to her aid.

“Horses are like people, Aghat,” she said. “They’re all different.
Your
horse may be able to do it, but if any of the others are not as well trained, or, by chance, are afraid of heights–”

A smile glimmered in the corners of Mai’s mouth. “Leave this to me,” he said.

“But–”

“Aghat Mai never says things unless he means them,” another Ruby, Brannon, joined in. “You should trust him, my lady.”

Ellah’s stomach knotted, her legs soft like rubber. She was afraid to even glance in the direction of the chasm, so wide, with just a thin streak of wood running across. She could vividly imagine horses stepping sideways in the middle of the crossing and sliding off to their deaths. What she could
not
imagine was herself, out on that bridge, with the emptiness all around her and nothing to hold on to.

She clasped her arms across her stomach to prevent nausea from rising up to her throat. Luckily, no one was looking her way, busy with the preparation.

The Majat took off their cloaks and wrapped them loosely over the horses’ heads, so that the animals were effectively blindfolded without suffering any discomfort. Mai, standing the closest to the chasm, gave his reins to Brannon and walked across the bridge and back again. Ellah could barely bring herself to look at him, a slim figure over the emptiness beneath, but Mai was walking as easily as if he was on flat ground. He stopped here and there, rocking the bridge with his feet to feel how sturdy it was. Apparently, the result satisfied him. He came back to the waiting group and took the reins. Then, he stepped onto the bridge, leading his horse.

Everyone held their breaths. Ellah forgot her own fears, caught in the moment. Mai walked slowly this time, stepping sideways with one hand on the horse’s forehead and the other holding the reins with a very short leeway. His horse followed every one of his footsteps precisely, to place its hooves in rhythm with his feet onto the surface of the narrow bridge. Once, Mai stopped and brought his face very close to the horse, whispering in its ear and patting the side of its long neck. Then he continued, over the end of the bridge and onto the safety of the turf on the other side.

“I’ll be damned,” Odara Sul whispered.

Ellah was aware of the collective breath let out as the area on their side of the bridge resumed its activity. From the other side of the chasm, Mai gestured to Brannon and the Ruby Majat stepped onto the bridge, leading his horse. He walked even slower than Mai. Everyone watched as he made his way across, following the pattern established by his leader, with the reins very tight and one hand on the horse’s muzzle. Once his horse attempted to stop. Mai gave a short command from the other side. Brannon nodded and grasped the reins firmer, tugging on with a steady hand. The horse followed without further interruptions as Brannon led it off the bridge.

The Ruby took the reins of both horses and led them out of the way. Mai walked back along the bridge.

Two more horses crossed. Ellah stood as far away as she could without causing suspicion, watching the wind cascading along the valley blow the horses’ tails and the cloaks wrapped around their heads. Lothar, on the closer side of the chasm, was handing the horses to Mai, who led them over one by one; calm and easy.

The routine broke when Odara Sul’s sand-colored mare was led toward the bridge to be blindfolded. At the sight of the chasm, the horse reared, breaking free of its hold. Lothar tried to catch the reins and was knocked backwards as a hoof caught him on the shoulder. The horse bared its teeth and rolled its eyes in panic.

Mai appeared as if out of nowhere, stepping up from the side to avoid the flailing hooves. He placed a hand on the mare’s back, catching the long end of the trailing reins, and held steady as the horse reared again, thrashing its head against the hold. When the horse came down, Mai used his free hand for support and swung into the saddle. The horse bucked, trying to throw him off, but he managed to hold on. It took no more than a few moments for him to calm the horse enough that it would obey the reins. He turned the panicked animal away from the bridge, directing it on to ride a few paces back along the path, down to a standstill. At his silent signal, Odara Sul handed him the cloak and he fastened it around the horse’s head, all the while keeping the animal away from seeing the chasm. Then he dismounted and took the reins.

It was like magic. The horse followed him like a trusting child. It never wavered as it stepped onto the bridge and made it across, into the safety of Brannon’s receiving hands.

Ellah let out a breath.

“Damn it!” Odara Sul said. “He’s an animal whisperer!”

Ellah didn’t know what she meant, but she didn’t try to find out. As her turn to cross the bridge neared, weakness spread over her body, rising in a nauseating fog that made everything around her seem unreal. She was vaguely aware of her own horse being taken away, of Odara Sul disappearing from her side, and of Mother Keeper beckoning her before making her own way across. And then she was alone, standing in front of the bridge with everyone else on the other side.

She couldn’t do it.

But there was no way she could show any of them that she was afraid.

She took a step forward.

Don’t look down
.

The bridge under her feet was steady, and not as uneven as she thought. Still, she could vividly imagine her foot failing to find a hold on the roughly hewn logs covered by the slippery coils of rope, making her stumble and fall down into the gorge below.

So deep.

Don’t look down.

She took another step, trying to look calm and focus her eyes on the group of people on the other side. They weren’t paying attention to her, busy with their horses and saddlebags. But Mai standing by the side of the bridge was watching, and there was no way in hell she was going to show him that she was afraid.

Don’t look down.

She tried to focus on the trees on the other side, so far away as she made her way along the narrow bridge. She stepped forward, trying to find a foothold.

And then the wind caught her.

A sideways gust caught the folds of her shirt and tugged, swaying her off balance. Her foot, searching for a hold, found a twig and slipped. She threw her arms out, trying to find something, anything to hold on to. As she swayed, trying to regain balance, her eyes moved against her will, down to her feet and below.

Blessed Shal Addim.

From this height the river looked no thicker than a rope coiling on the ground. She could barely hear the sounds of the rushing water, much more distant than the sound of the wind that was trying to knock her off the bridge and send her down, tumbling over, into the chasm. Her searching hands grasped for support, but all they could find was air.

Blessed Shal Addim.

She was losing balance.

She was going to die.

And then, suddenly, her hand came upon a solid object. She felt someone catch her arms and steady her.

She forced herself to look up and met a pair of steely blue eyes..

Mai.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered.

His voice was quiet, but its commanding tone was impossible to disobey. She closed her eyes, feeling the world sway around her in the gusts of wind. She held on to him, her hands going numb from the strength of her own grasp, and yet she couldn’t possibly feel safe.

Blessed Shal Addim, we are both going to fall.

We’re going to die!

He is going to die saving me.

I can’t let that happen.

“Let go of me!” she pleaded. “You can’t save me! I’m going to fall!”

He put an arm around her, drawing her closer. His hold was steady, like iron. She swayed against him, but he stood still, supporting both of their weights against the impossible shift of balance.

“Don’t move,” he told her.

The wind tugged at her. The bridge rocked with it, a barely perceptible movement that made the thick, solid wood seem like a hammock. She swayed.

“I can’t!” she wailed.

He held her so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek, his soft golden curls brushing her skin. His body against her was light as the wind, yet hard as the rock. It seemed like nothing could possibly throw him off balance. She grabbed on to him, trying to keep still. But she couldn’t. She was going to fall, and she couldn’t possibly let him be pulled down with her.

“Let me go,” she sobbed. “Please, I can’t let you die saving me!”

“Don’t try to fight me. Just relax. I’ve got you.” This time there was no command in his voice. It was soothing, no louder than a whisper. It crept to her gut, making her feel warm inside. She suddenly became aware of his arms around her, of his perfectly sculpted muscle, iron-hard under the silky cloth of his shirt. She was helpless against his closeness. She couldn’t resist it anymore. She relaxed into his arms, giving in to the incredible sensation of strength and balance that he emanated, to his warmth and closeness that made her forget where she was, forget everything else except his body next to hers.

His skin had the faint smell of spring water and pine. Inhaling it, she suddenly felt stronger. She took a deep breath, steadying herself on her own feet.

“Now,” he said. “Let’s walk.”

They were so close now that their bodies felt like one. As he moved, she felt that his sense of balance had become part of her, so that she had no trouble stepping along with him.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he whispered, “and follow my feet. You’re safe. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He is leading me like a horse
, a part of her mind thought. But she didn’t care. All she cared about was the steadiness of his body against hers, his soothing voice that kept talking to her, engulfing her in the incredible feeling of warmth and safety he emanated. It seemed that nothing could possibly happen to her as long as he was near, so strong that even if she swayed and lost her footing he would never let her fall.