Horus awoke at daybreak to the creek of a stable door clonk of his horse’s hooves as they trotted out of the stable. He rolled off his cot every aching pressure point relieved as he stood.
“Hubert who requested Falchion?” he moaned through his cracked voice and tangled beard. No answer came as the rump of the horse disappeared out the door in the next moment. “Hubert, hold a moment.” Horus disentangled himself from his blanket and startled a sleeping Barkus awake as he followed after the steed. The lord rounded the corner and skid to a halt. Anaiah stood next to the pale blue roan, reins in his gloved hand and saddle already set. Horus froze eyes fixed on his unfamiliar son who stilled like a deer awaiting a wolf. Falchion shook his great neck, black mane swishing about as he flicked his tail and snorted his impatience. Questions bubbled up in Horus’s mind though they couldn’t escape his lips.
Anaiah a stranger; clad in a long sleeved royal purple tunic, silver embroidery on the high collar in the shapes of runes, similar embroidery down the sleeves and hem. His braids redone were fastened with rune etched metal beads, the silvery lock in his bangs stark against the rest of him.
“Where are you going?” he said at last.
“I’ll have Falchion back before dusk.” Anaiah muttered, casting his eyes down. At his name, Falchion nuzzled Anaiah with his white-bald face in a bid for attention. Horus straightened himself and exhaled his frustration.
“That isn’t what I asked, Anaiah.”
“I know.” Anaiah replied latching onto Falchion’s saddle with both hands he set his foot in the stirrup and hefted himself onto the great beast’s back. Falchion danced in place, the black feathering about his hooves swishing as he readied for a run.
“I didn’t give my permission!” Horus blurted. Anaiah’s sharp mismatched glower bored down through his father.
“Neither did I.” he retorted. Horus’s face slackened with shock and the two were back to staring in silence. Horus opened his mouth to speak when a whiney cut through the air, spooking them both and irritating Falchion who raised his head neighing in protest.
Khloe, done up in her work gear, came trotting out of the stables on the back of her mother’s liver chestnut mare.
“Don’t worry, father. Fleta and I will make sure to bring Falchion back if Anaiah bites it on the road, won’t we girl?” she asked the horse, patting her on the neck and tousling her flaxen mane. Anaiah grinned despite himself, turning his face away from his father, whose last nerve was a hairsbreadth from snapping. Anaiah gave Falchion a kick and pointed him at the road; the stallion reared its head and pulled forward, entering a gallop within a few paces. Khloe whistled to Fleta who sprang after her pale counterpart, leaving their father alone in front of the barn with the echo of hoof falls and a bemused hunting dog as his companions.
Fleta, a faster and leaner creature, pulled up beside Falchion at Khloe’s command, long strides and fleet form half outpaced the stockier roan.
“Since father will kill us tonight when we get home, what’s this last act of something-or-other we’re up to?” she yelled over the whistle of the post storm drenched wind blustering between them. Anaiah, eyes forward and more determined than Khloe ever recalled seeing them, tightened his hands on the reins.
“Martin had the right idea.” He yelled.
“What, piss off father even more and get thrown out? Last I checked we can’t be axed from being his heirs.” Anaiah’s entire body winced and his hands tightened on the reins, he tucked his chin and groaned, eyes clasping shut. “Anaiah!” Khloe shouted.
“I-it’s Silver.” He said with effort. He blinked his eyes open and peered at his sister. He tapped on the grey splotched skin of his demon eye. “He can see what we’re doing and hear what we’re saying.” Anaiah hefted a painful sigh. “And he had a complaint.”
“Tell him to stuff it when we’re riding.” She said.
Anaiah took the lead and brought them both up the same road they’d traveled the night of the ball by carriage. With every hoof beat Khloe’s stomach churned. There’s nothing for it. She told herself, the unease in her gut undeterred. I can’t believe we’re doing this. Dammit Martin. As they approached town they slowed their horses to a walk, though early the traffic bustled the town to life. The festival’s decorations had all been swept away baring a few wayward paper lanterns still hanging from shop windows and drying lines strewn across alleyways. The cobblestone road was swept clean, clippings of soggy paper decorations and discarded food wrappers nudged into gutters. Awnings unfurled, carts laden with goods parked in alleys offloading their cargo, market stalls opened with a bustle of merchants setting out their wares, the odd few patrons trickling in wary of the heavy clouds and sticky humid air. Falchion’s broad frame and heavy shoes on the cobblestones gathered enough attention those in the road moved out of his way; oblivious to the riders for the most part, something for which Anaiah was grateful. Khloe’s stomach growled as they trailed through the food stalls. The scent of fresh bread wafted over from the bakery swirling with hints of sugar and cooked meat from other stalls.
“Can we stop and get something to eat first, Anaiah?” she asked as her stomach rumbled despite its discomfort.
“No.” his answer curt as he led them down the main street, closing his eyes as if combating a headache.
“I haven’t had breakfast yet. I didn’t even think of it before you were out the door.” She complained.
“Neither did I. This comes first.” He said over his shoulder. They managed through the mild crowd and brought their horses to a trot once they left the merchant traffic. The road through town was a straight shot from one end to the other, no weaving required. Houses lined either side, packed around the merchant venues, only to loosen up and enjoy more space the further one went from the town square. They followed the paved road to the other end of town and out down the long stretch lined with trees on either side.
Vineyard country stretched in every direction, each hill striped with the signature rows of fruit bearing trees, lush and vibrant green against the heavy clouds in the grey morning light. As they approached the bridge leading up to the emperor’s castle, through the tunnel of trees it gleamed white in the gloomy sunrise, nestled among the hills away from the capital city. Emperor Zavaan took refuge in this place every summer, though why she’d bother Khloe couldn’t fathom. Leaving Dolore for this mess in the prime celebration season? Lady Zavaan you must be mad. She thought as they trotted up to the castle gate.
On either side of the wrought iron barrier the grounds were lined by tall even shaped square hedges stretching across the lush property like a labyrinth of life, wrapping around white marble statues of half-clad male warriors bearing arms. Khloe oohed.
“You couldn’t see those from the carriage window at night.” She said her cold ears stinging down her neck as she pulled Fleta to a stop behind Falchion. Without the strings of lanterns and the clutch of carriages, the palace grounds were empty and a level of quiet on par with a cemetery. Servants made their ways across the grounds, some with wheelbarrows full of tools and sprigs of future trees, others with arms full of linens running to the wash. It was all done in a reverent quiet the servants of house DuPont did not observe. A lone servant jaunted from the large double doors down the steps and made his way over to them.
Fleta sidled up beside Falchion and Khloe nudged Anaiah’s shoulder.
“Check him out.” She snickered under her breath, indicating a statue to the left of the gate. A grand depiction of the curly haired sun god Nanht’ul, kneeling naked with spear in one hand jabbed toward the heavens and his shield in the other resting in front of his loins. The metal shined such that the blurry reflection of the siblings stared back at them from its round surface. “Reflection or deflection, do you think?” she chuckled. Anaiah shrugged, uttering a hmph as the servant unlocked the gate. Khloe pursed her lips. “You always laugh at stuff like this, c’mon just give it a try.” She prodded. The servant wrenched the gate open and Anaiah pulled Falchion ahead, Khloe quick to follow.
“It’s not that I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do.” Anaiah said with a faint voice. “I don’t have it in me, right now.” His deflated countenance brought Khloe out of her humor. His faraway eyes were like her father’s had been when he returned with Anaiah after he’d gone missing all those years ago. It spelled disaster and Khloe couldn’t place why.
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