Richard Parker - The Black Horseman

“Gwaynn,” Mille said and pulled him to her. They stared into each other’s eyes for several moments before moving into a mutual embrace. They kissed hard and long, pressing closer and closer to one another, oblivious to the noise and wind around them. They dropped to the sand as one, first to a kneeling position and then Mille was on her back and he moved on top of her. They continued to kiss and explore even as the first raindrops hit the sand around them. The rain became steady before they finally noticed and broke apart, sitting and panting and glancing around. The rain grew harder as they stood. They instinctively ducked from the lightning, which was now all around them, thunder boomed as they ran back up the path, laughing, neither noticing the lone female figure watching them from the top of the ridge.

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The next morning Gwaynn was up before Lane came to wake him. The three ate in silence as usual, but Gwaynn was barely aware of the other two men. His mind was swimming with thoughts of Mille and he lingered as long as he dared to see if she would wake, but she did not.

“We’ll be busy checking the storm damage, don’t dally after the race,” Leek said as Gwaynn moved out the door. He was a bit disappointed with Mille, but still feeling high about the previous night never the less.

It was much cooler as he stepped out into the dim morning air and made his way down to the beach. The rest of the students were already milling about, stretching and running in short bursts to get warm. The sea was much calmer than the previous evening, but a large swath of sand was still heavy and wet. Nearly all of the students greeted Gwaynn, but Vio just stared at him strangely and said nothing. Gwaynn wondered at her behavior, but did not have time to dwell on it as B’dall lined them up and they began to run without any signal.

From the very beginning of the race, Gwaynn felt light and strong and he took up position directly behind Vio, which was his normal tactic. Today however, through the first half of the race and all the way to the turn he did not slowly fade behind, as was usual. At first he thought Vio was just having an off day, but as they made the turn he noticed that Krys and the others were well behind. As a group, the rest of the runners gave him little signs of encouragement as he and Vio passed by on the return run, all of course except B’dall, who merely scowled and would not meet Gwaynn’s eyes. Even Vio, from her position just ahead, spoke short words of encouragement every now and then.

“Here we go Gwaynn,” she said when they were within half a mile of the finish, and she began to speed up and finally pulled away from her new shadow. Gwaynn found he had nothing left and was unable to increase his speed though he tried desperately. He finished in all nearly a hundred yards behind her, which was much closer than anyone else had in quite a long while. She waited for him at the finish, still moving about to cool down. When she joined him, he was too winded to speak at first so they just walked together and slowly caught their breath. They both stripped and plunged into the sea, and were just emerging when Krys finished his run and was followed shortly thereafter by B’dall. Both Gwaynn and Vio were half-dressed and Krys was nearby, bent at the waist when B’dall reached them. Without a word he swung out and struck Gwaynn in the face with an elbow as he passed by.

Gwaynn, who had not yet pulled on his shirt, was watching as B’dall approached and was even aware of the blow coming, since it was not disguised all that well. But he forced himself to take it; otherwise he ran the risk of exposing his private sparring sessions. Though the blow caught him flush and hurt, not being able to defend against it, hurt more. He took the elbow almost directly in the mouth. His lip split and was starting to bleed even before he hit the sand. B’dall stopped and turned, intending to stand over Gwaynn, but to his surprise both Vio and Krys jumped between him and his victim, each of them crouched and ready in a fighting stance.

“Why did you do that?” Krys asked, advancing aggressively on the eldest student in the group. His assertiveness surprised and unnerved B’dall, who slowly began to retreat. But it was the look a pure anger on Vio’s face that really made him pause. He shook his head with a growl, then turned and moved up the path without any explanation.

“You should have defended yourself,” Vio said having witnessed the entire episode, understanding that B’dall threw the elbow with no deception. It was a blow Gwaynn could have blocked or avoided easily.

“No,” Gwaynn said, as Krys helped him to his feet. “No one is to know of my training. Master Kostek was very adamant about that,” he added, pausing here and there to spit blood out of his mouth. His lip was swelling quickly.

Vio frowned, wondering whether or not she could have taken a blow like that or would the years of training and instinct take over before she could think about it. That Gwaynn could have restrained himself impressed her more than his running and she was about to say so.

“Gwaaayyyn,” a cry sounded from above and they all turned in unison to see Mille running down the sandy hillside, worry written plainly on her face.

Gwaynn blushed and Vio scowled. Krys looked at his Prince with one eyebrow raised but made no comment as the girl hurried down the dune to the beach. Gwaynn liked Mille and over the past few days could think of no one else, but at the moment he was embarrassed by her attention.

“Are you alright? I saw him hit you. Oh my…look at your lip. We need to take you to see Pugg,” she said in one fast flowing stream of words.

“Um vine,” Gwaynn mumbled, his lip growing past the point where talking plainly was possible. He stopped her from using her skirt to wipe away the blood and used his own shirt instead.

Vio stormed off without another word, but Krys just stood there grinning at him. Gwaynn could see Tam and William coming up the beach and so he allowed Mille to lead him away before they arrived.

“I saw your finish,” Mille said as they moved up the bank. “That was the fastest you’ve ever run. Just wait until I tell father. He already thinks the world of you.” She continued to talk nearly non-stop all the way to the infirmary, but Gwaynn did not mind and just silently watched her lips and mouth. He like the way they moved and he liked the way she tossed her head about animatedly, causing her loose hair to flutter about.

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Tar Navarra and his party were now deep into Massi territory having zigzagged their way down the country side, hitting every town and hamlet on their way to find some clue as to the passing of Afton Sath. All through the journey thoughts of the Fultan girl buzzed through Navarra’s mind like a persistent horse fly. At times he caught himself repeating her name over and over like some kind of sick mantra, and he found this disturbing. This, and the fact that they’d come across no clue of Sath’s movements, did nothing to improve his mood.

“Perhaps he did head to the coast and leave by trireme,” Sergeant Lindsay said. He was aware of the Executioner’s bad mood, but knew there was nothing to be done for it except for possibly another Massi execution. Four more town magistrates had met their end to Navarra’s axe, but still, no one revealed any knowledge of Afton Sath’s whereabouts. Either they didn’t know or they were taking such secrets to the grave.

Navarra did not want to admit it, but he was beginning to suspect that Sath indeed might have left the country. They should have come across some clue to his passing. Navarra still could not believe the former Weapons Master would abandon his countrymen, but he was also having trouble believing that they had yet to come across even a hint of his movements. No, Navarra thought, he would not have fled the country. It was far more probable that Sath had traveled completely cross-country avoiding all contact, not only shunning towns, but any country people as well.