The Black Horseman

Chapter 9

 

IX

 

 

 

It was a full week before Gwaynn and Tar Nev set off toward Mount Erato and the forests of Noble Island. They waited until after Mille’s burial, which was held on an absolutely gorgeous day; spring was coming fast to the islands. Gwaynn stood stone faced next to Leek during the ceremony, while Lane and his family grieved around him. Mari sported a thick white bandage that covered most of the top of her head, but she was recovering nicely. She smiled shyly at Gwaynn several times during the day but he didn’t smile back.

‘No one should be buried on a beautiful day,’ Gwaynn thought, feeling guilty about Mille’s death though the family did not blame Gwaynn for the tragedy, and their goodbyes, though brief, were heartfelt and sincere.

Once on the road Gwaynn said little, which suited Nev just fine. Living alone as he did, he was accustomed to silence and believed most people talked far too much in any case.

Gwaynn rode on Prolly.

“A loan,” Leek had said, telling Gwaynn he could return the mare when he finally left the Island. Nev rode a large strawberry roan named Ardent, who tried to bite Gwaynn every time he got too close.

“Ardent’s not partial to company,” Nev said by way of explanation, so Gwaynn kept his distance. They stopped in Herra for a night and were treated as distinguished visitors. The next morning they left early and entered the forest, the home of the Solitaries. They followed a path barely wide enough to accommodate the horses, and Gwaynn had to constantly watch for low branches that hung over the trail. It was hard and slow riding but within a dozen miles the forest opened into a wide grassy meadow that was set at the foot of the Erato Mountain. On a hill, near a bubbling stream that would eventually become the Parm river, sat a cabin, white washed and brilliant in the late afternoon sun. There was a flower garden to the south and behind Gwaynn saw a corral and a small out building.

Gwaynn frowned when he saw the picturesque, almost feminine setting. Nev noticed his look and chuckled.

“I’m a Solitary, not an animal,” he said with a smile. “The cabin was built almost fifty years ago by the folks of Herra for Tar Chillar, my Master. Now and then they travel up and repair what needs repairing and give it a new once over with paint.”

Gwaynn looked at Nev for a moment then back to the cabin and nodded. “The flower garden?” he asked.

“Oh, I tend to that,” Nev said, as they rode the rest of the way in silence.

“That man,” Nev said, after they had unsaddled the horses and set them to grazing, “on the beach….the Executioner.”

Gwaynn glared at Tar Nev wondering why he would bring that up at this moment.

“I don’t want to ever hear you call him a “Tar” again,” Nev ordered flatly, then pulled two sets of katas from inside the out building and tossed a set to Gwaynn. “And now I will show you why.”

Gwaynn caught the katas out of the air. He was tired from riding all day and a bit hungry, but that did not diminish his desire to discover what skills this Solitary possessed. Gwaynn had been curious about the Tar ever since the Council meeting. Everyone held him in high esteem, but outwardly Gwaynn could not tell why this was so. Nev was well passed middle age, though perhaps not yet old. He was less than average height, almost stocky, with broad, powerful looking shoulders and thick wrists, not someone you would believe possessed any speed or finesse.