Damnation.
The thought struck through her veins like cold fire.
Damnation.
Was that really what she had been reduced too? Pacing while silently cursing in her own mind? She sighed, turning to being another circuit of the well worn oval in the middle of her room.
"Damnation," she muttered gravely staring at the floorboards of the barracks passing beneath her feet.
"Five Hells," she added just to satisfy her need to speak. Normally it would have been enough to sate her frustrations, but it only seemed to make her more agitated. Her pacing quickened.
That needed to stop, this pacing business would give everything away. She could never let the others know about it. They would worry, well worry more than they already were.
But her mind was so unsettled she could not stop herself. She had even been too distracted to focus as Drent pummeled her during the evening session. The fact that she had been reduced to one eye might have accounted for some of the beating, but her racing mind had not improved the situation any.
"Damnation," she repeated again, stopping before the small vanity in her room, leaning heavily on it with her fists clenched. She had placed Yates' drawing of the people of Mill City safely in a file on her bookshelf, she fought the urge to reach for them.
Cade.
"Damnation," she slammed her fist on the vanity, rattling the few possessions she had acquired since her return from the future. From the possible future, that was no longer there. That was the cause of her headache, and the pacing, and her restless mind!
Karigan turned from the vanity and returned to her worn circle. It was amazing how quickly the floor grew accustomed to the pacing. The once low moaning and gentle creaking of the floorboards was now replaced with absolute silence. Perhaps that was what made her mind so restless, the absolute silence. If only she could ride out on Condor, but Captain Mapstone would not allow it.
She needed rest; that was the story the Captain had decided on and that was limiting her ability to do anything. That might have been an attributing factor to this pacing. Karigan turned to her door, intending to go out and ride, whether the captain approved of her actions or not.
Before she could throw the door open, there was a knock. It surprised her, she stopped staring at the wooden panels, her hand halfway raised for the handle. Who would be calling on her so late at night?
That was a stupid question. Any number of the Riders could be at her door, inviting her to the common room for a game, or suggesting a trip to into the City for spirits. That was probably it, she determined reaching out for the door as the visitor knocked a second time, some Rider wanting to force some social interaction.
She wished that had been the case.
Zachary stood at the door, two of Weapons blocking the torchlight from the three brackets in the hallway. His eyes looking pleading into hers, trying to convey some message she could not fathom. Why had the king come to her so late at night?
"Karigan," he forced a smile. Always it seemed forced, trying to breach a barrier Karigan intentionally built between them. "May I come in?"
"Of course," she stepped aside, allowing Zachary in her room. The Weapons remained in the hall, as usual. "What can I do for you, your highness?" she bowed slightly on ceremony. She knew he did not require such things of her, but she did it anyway.
"I want to speak with you Karigan."
"About what?" she inquired. What had she done that caused this concern? It was not every day that Zachary came to the Rider Barracks to speak with her. Normally she was summoned somewhere to meet him. And why had he come so late in the night, she guessed it was nearing the midnight hour.
"You're adventure after Blackveil," he sighed, shaking his head. "I know it troubles you, after your accounts, I would feel at odds as well."
Damnation. They had noticed. If the king had taken note of her behavior, the others would have too. She was horrible at hiding this restlessness. She needed to be away from the Barracks, she needed an errand.
"Please, Karigan. You can talk to me," his eyes locked on hers, holding them in the pleading stare. "I only want to help."
Karigan shook her head, taking a small step back from her liege. Talking was not the answer, she had mulled over the situation too long. She needed action, she needed a distraction. "I don't want to talk about it." She tried to sound defiant, but even to her own ears it sounded pleading. "I can't."
Was it because she wanted to forget? Did she wish to live as if Westrion had not sent her to that bleak future? Was she attempting to hide from the pain of losing Cade, even though she could scarcely remember him? Was that why she had put the sketches away, so she would not feel drawn to stare at them; attempting to remember a time that would never happen?
"Please Karigan," Zachary tried again. "You cannot keep this charade up."
Charade? Was this all he thought? She was mad trying to appear normal? Or normal attempting to be mad? She shook her head quickly, closing her eye. Had there been a charade in that time? Surely, but it was so hard to remember.
"There is no charade," she muttered, sinking on her bed, rubbing her temples gently. This whole affair was giving her headache. Or perhaps it was the lack of sleep. "I've grown restless. I need an errand, something occupy my time."
Zachary shook his head in response. Why? Had he conversed with the captain, and they both agreed to keep her in the castle, in Sacor City until she was—what? Better? Over her time in the hazy future with the people the ghostly Yates had drawn for her?
"Five Hells," she snapped. "I can't take this." She was on her feet before Zachary could phrase a response at her outburst, and out the door, passing both of Weapons as if they were not there.
She had to get out of the castle. She had to take Condor and ride. And she thought she knew where.
For some reason, Karigan was craving the overbearing attention of her aunts. They would not treat her as a madwoman, at least not anymore than usual. And she had not seen her father since before the expedition into Blackveil.
As she rode Condor through the streets of Sacor City she reached the conclusion; everything after Blackveil until the Longest Night was just better as a memory.
A/N This is my first Green Rider piece. Reviews please so I know if I'm any good at capturing the people of Sacoridia.