Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [55]
“No.” His mouth felt suddenly dry, and his heart beat too fast. “Only—only kings carry weapons that are Choven-forged.”
Lea smiled. “Will you come now? Please don’t worry about the empress. I promise you she is safe. We will not be gone long.”
He could protest no longer. In silence he sheathed the sword and carried it in his hand as he walked over to the pony waiting for him. Shaggy, sturdy, and unimpressed by him, it looked at him through its long forelock and snorted.
“Wear the sword, Caelan,” Lea said, mounting her pony with lithe grace. From a saddlebag she shook out the folds of a fur-lined cloak the same blue as her gown, and swung it around her shoulders. “It is yours.”
He stood there, feeling dazed and witless. The sword seemed so obvious a bribe, yet he found himself impatient with his own suspicions. It was a magnificent gift, impossible to refuse. He loved it, heart and soul, and already could not imagine going anywhere without it. Who would give him such a weapon? What was wanted in exchange?
“Gifts are free,” Lea said softly.
He glanced up, but didn’t meet her gaze. With a sigh, he buckled on the sword. Its weight felt right upon his hip. Confidence surged through him, and he felt as though he could walk into any battle now and win. Wearing Exoner was like having an extra man at his side.
Reaching into the saddlebag, Caelan pulled out a fur-lined cloak and warm gauntlets. With them on, he adjusted the stirrup lengths and mounted. His long legs almost dragged the ground, but he knew his pony was capable of carrying his weight all day without tiring. Indeed, he would take one of these ugly little steeds any day over the long-legged, flashy horses bred in Imperia.
A sudden commotion behind him made him whirl the pony around in time to see the nordeer bounding through the trees. Swift and graceful, they flitted away, their white coats ghostly pale against the snow.
“Quick!” Lea cried, spurring her pony forward. “They are our guide. Keep up with them.”
There was no more time to wonder or question. Caelan galloped after the nordeer, settling deep in the saddle and ducking low to avoid branches. Without asking, he knew they were heading for the Cascade Mountains, and in less than an hour they were climbing a steep, rocky trail and picking a scrambling path through snowdrifts.
The Cascade River itself, so mighty and swift when it thundered through the mountain pass during summer, now lay frozen in slumber, buried beneath ice and snow. They crossed it at a reckless gallop, hoofbeats echoing down the mountain pass like thunder. On the other side rose a trail steep and harrowing, seeming to go almost straight up in places.
Yet the ponies never faltered or balked, no matter how difficult the way. Caelan strained to keep the nordeer in sight. Sometimes he lost them completely and had to rely on the quick clatter of their hooves or the swift flick of a tail as one bounded into sight among the rocks then vanished again.
The chase was thrilling. He found himself glorying in the whip of cold air against his face. The wild recklessness of the ride set his heart pounding in delight. He had not enjoyed anything so much in years, and he remembered how as a boy he used to live for those stolen moments when he could escape to the glacier and gallop free and wild across its expanse.
Today, he could feel the hearts of the nordeer, and a part of him ran with them, swiftly and effortlessly, like the wind itself.
Above them, the steep trail ascended into a cloud of fog and icy mist. Suddenly he could see nothing. The whole world was blanked out in damp silence.
Snorting, the pony slowed down, and Lea’s mount crowded it from behind. “I can’t see anything,” she called out.
“Stay close,” Caelan warned her.
This was always a danger in the mountains. The sudden fogs could lead an unwary traveler to an unexpected plunge over a precipice. He tightened the reins, although his pony was wise enough to pick a careful way through the rocks.
As for the nordeer, they seemed to have vanished completely. He could not see