Chapter 28: Brooding Nobles and Wild Horses
Isabelle was showing me around the city on a warm day. It wasn't as though it was ever cold in Surda, and I was highly enjoying it. Summer was well on its way by now, and the days were getting longer and hotter. We had been here for a fortnight, and I loved it so far. The weather was beautiful, I got to see my friends regularly, and no one was hunting me down. Gregorio was acting very moody lately, and he'd been given a regular guard station, so we didn't see him much. But Isabelle and I spent nearly every day together. The thought of Eragon was slowly but surely slipping from my mind, as I'd resolved myself to try not to think about him in his absence, but Murtagh was ever prevalent in my mind. I'd been dreaming about him lately, and every time it ended with his death at the bottom of the black pit. I'd awake in a sweating terror, and Isabelle would help calm me down, but nothing I did ever got rid of the nightmares. They had become part of my routine now.
As we made our way through the sprawling and lively city, Isabelle brought me to a giant coliseum that towered over every building near it. There were massive throngs of people moving in and out of the huge structure, all of them going on their merry way with smiles upon their faces.
"What is this place?" I asked Isabelle as we walked under the giant archway that served as the main entrance. Before us was a huge marble statue of a horse on its hind legs, pawing at the air.
"This is Surda's famous Horse Market," she explained. "I thought perhaps that you could find a horse."
"Oh," I breathed in surprise, looking over at her. "Thank you, Isabelle. That's so kind of you." She smiled in response as we continued into the stands, finding a seat on the front row. I leaned against the low wall separating us from the sand-filled arena and craned my neck to look around. The bowl of the coliseum was low and wide, stretching out far behind us. And there was a man with a booming voice standing in the very middle of the arena, shouting names of different types of horses and their prices. Looking beyond him, I saw a group of indifferent-looking people loitering beneath a midnight blue canopy stretched above them. "Who are they?" I asked her, pointing over to the group that was mostly made up of men.
"Oh, them," Isabelle replied with a hint of disgust. "Those are the Surdan nobles. The horse traders also sit there." I nodded absent-mindedly, gazing around at the various horses prancing around the arena. They came in from an opening at the far end and then trotted around the outer edges of the arena, their master's groomsmen showing them off to the gaping crowds. I watched as the magnificent creatures went by right in front of us, noting the grace and elegance with which many of them moved. But that wasn't what I was looking for in a horse. If I was to get a horse—and it would have to be relatively inexpensive—it would have to be a war horse, of the same lot as Tornac. I would be riding this horse into the battles that were invariably to come; it would have to be quick, strong, agile, but also have a sort of beauty about it. And none of these horses seemed to match the criteria.
"Do you see anything you like?" Isabelle asked. I shook my head, keeping my eyes fixed on the arena.
"Not yet. But I'm sure I'll know it when I do," I reassured her.
The hours wore on, and the sun slowly sank in the Surdan sky. The deep purples and oranges of twilight were creeping overhead when a particular horse caught my eye—caught everyone's eye really. He was a beautiful, jet black stallion, and he was causing quite the commotion near the nobles' canopy. The stallion reared onto his back legs, neighing wildly and pawing the air with massive, powerful hooves. The handlers ran around frantically to try and control the horse, but they were doing a poor job of it. Then the horse pulled at his restraint, dragging the handlers to the middle of the arena.
"Get that beast out of here!" a man cried, standing up from his seat beneath the canopy. I didn't know what came over me, but for some inexplicable reason I jumped up out of my own seat. Before I realized what I was saying, the words were coming out of my mouth and I was powerless to stop them.
"No!" I screamed, holding my hand out to grab their attention. The arena went silent, all except the whinnies of the horse. "I'll take him!" The man stared at me slack-jawed.
"My lady!" he called to me from across the arena. "That beast cannot be ridden. You would surely be thrown from his back and injured!" I smirked at the man.
"What know you of my riding skills? You discredit me because I am a woman?" I demanded, earning a few chuckles from the crowd. "I can assure you, sir: I will ride that horse!" The stallion suddenly reared into the air, pulling free from one of his handlers. The nobleman laughed to his companions beneath the shade of the canopy.
"Very well, my lady," he said, making an elegant bow where he swept his arm far out to the side. "If you can tame the beast and ride him, I will give you the horse, for he belongs to me at the moment. You ride him, and he is yours." The nobles and horse traders under the blue canopy laughed raucously amongst themselves, but the rest of the coliseum was silent.
"I accept your offer," I said, surprising myself with the nobility that shone through my tone. Isabelle tugged at my sleeve nervously.
"Tabby," she whispered, trying not to draw attention to herself, "what are you doing? That animal could kill you! Not only is he a Methras, but he's huge!" I had no idea what a Methras was, but she was certainly right about one thing: the horse was one of the biggest destriers I'd ever seen. He may have rivaled Tornac in size. But something drew me to the beast, and I wasn't about to let neither her— nor anybody else—stop me from riding that horse.
"Don't worry, Isabelle," I said, smirking playfully. "I know what I'm doing." Her gaze told me that she wasn't convinced, but I ignored her. Quickly, I hopped over the low wall and fell the short distance into the arena. I made my way confidently to where the handlers were trying to control the horse, aware that every eye in the coliseum was fastened on me. I paid them no mind and focused completely on the black stallion.
As I drew closer to the horse, I held out my hand in a gesture of friendship. Even an animal could tell who was friend and who was foe. He continued to jerk his head up and down and rear into the sky. I could tell he was only scared of the environment he'd been thrust into.
"Shh," I cooed soothingly. The horse fixed his intense, brown gaze on me. Little nervous whinnies still escaped from his throat, but he had stopped fidgeting at least. "It's all right." Slowly and hesitantly, I placed my hand on the tip of his nose. He jerked his head up, retreating from the unfamiliar feel of my hand. But I persisted, putting my hand on his soft nose again. This time, he allowed me to keep it there. I moved in closer and patted the side of his face, moving my hand into his silky mane and scratching his neck. It was remarkable how much he'd calmed down. "There you go," I said softly. It didn't really matter what I was saying, he just needed to hear my voice and know that I was a friend.
Cautiously, I opened my consciousness to him to let him know that it was safe. I wasn't going to hurt him. The contact of his mind was so strange, but I could tell he was calm now. I sent him mental images to let him know that I was going to ride him now, and he let out a little nicker and then slightly angled himself so I could climb up to his back. Grabbing hold of his mane, I used all the strength in my arms to swing up onto his bare back. Without a saddle, it was extremely difficult. But I made it, and a hushed whisper of shock rippled through the gathered crowd. The man that had offered me the horse was staring wide-eyed at me.
I goaded the horse forward with a light kick to his haunches, hanging on tightly to his silky black mane and squeezing my thighs so I wouldn't fall off. The horse went into a trot but I coaxed him further, eventually working him into a canter, and then finally into a full on gallop around the arena. The crowds cheered as we passed by, the horse's mane and tail blowing in the wind. When we'd done a full lap, I stopped in front of the area where the blue canopy was and where the owner of the horse was still standing in shock. I stared him down boldly with a slightly smug expression on my face.
"Will you honor our bargain?" I demanded loudly, so everyone in the arena could hear. The man slowly walked to the edge of the wall and ran a hand down the horse's side, looking at him in confusion.
"I have never seen such a miraculous thing," he said quietly. "This horse has given me trouble since the day I found him out in the desert. No one has been able to control him, let alone ride upon his back. You are truly gifted, my lady."
"Please," I snapped, "I am no lady." I could tell the man had a good heart, but the honorific did not suit me.
"You surely speak and carry yourself as one," he said, looking up into my face for the first time. When he looked at me, something caught in his breath. "And surely, you are as beautiful—if not more so—as all of them." Something told me he wasn't trying to flatter me, but rather that he was trying to tell me something. "Please, my lady, I would be honored if you would join me for dinner at my home this evening." I considered his offer for a moment as the horse shifted nervously beneath me. Whatever he was trying to tell me, I needed to find out what it was.
I put on a smile. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure," I said. He looked pleased.
"One of my stewards will meet you out front with the address of my home," he said, gesturing behind him for a servant. That's when I noticed the piercing grey eyes staring at me. I nearly fainted because, for a moment, I thought that it was Murtagh; they certainly looked a lot alike. But there were subtle differences that only I—who was utterly and unabashedly in love with the son of Morzan—would notice. My attention was drawn back to the servant and his master.
"Forgive me, sir, but I do not even know your name," I said.
"How rude of me," he replied. "I am Lord Braeden." My heart stopped as I realized this was the man Angela had told me to find. I'd never dreamed that it would be this simple. But Fate had a funny way of playing with my life.
"It is an honor to meet you," I intoned, inclining my head in respect. "My name is Tabatha." He smiled slightly and nodded.
"Dinner is at eight." I nodded shortly and assured him I would be there before spurring the horse forward. I looked one more time for those eyes that reminded me so much of Murtagh, but the mysterious young man was nowhere to be found. Feeling slightly sad, I headed out of the arena. Isabelle was waiting at the exit of the tunnel for me, along with a finely dressed steward. The steward handed me a piece of parchment and bowed. Then, without saying a word, he turned and left.
Isabelle eyed me suspiciously as I pulled up beside her. "Yes?" I asked innocently, jumping off the horse.
"You know exactly what," she snapped, glaring at me. "You could've been killed back there. But do you care? No! Tabatha fears nothing!" I stared at her calmly, blinking slowly.
"You're making quite the spectacle of yourself," I said coolly. "Now, please calm down. I haven't the slightest clue what a Methras is, but obviously it can't be that bad if I was able to ride one."
"The Methras are only the rarest and most sought after horses in all of Surda, Alagaësia, and possibly the world. Not only are they rare, but they are also nearly impossible to catch. If one is to catch a Methras, it is completely impossible to ride. They won't have it. They are as wild as the wind itself."
"Well, obviously it's not impossible to ride them, since I just did," I said slowly. We walked on in silence to the gates of the arena, where I was given the tack that went along with the horse. The saddle and bridle were black as night, with silver filigree in looping patterns around the edges. The stirrups and bit were made of pure silver and the blanket to put under the saddle was a scarlet red. The horse cooperated as I saddled him up and then walked in front of him. We made our way back to the royal palace, which wasn't too far.
When we got back, I realized I didn't have much time to prepare for dinner with Lord Braeden. "Isabelle!" I whispered hurriedly as I handed the horse off to a groom. "I need your help to get ready." She looked at me in confusion.
"For what? Where are you going?" she asked. I showed her the piece of parchment and her eyes went wide.
"Lord Braeden has invited me to dine with him this evening," I explained. She scanned the paper and then noticed the seal at the bottom of the page.
"Lord Braeden? He was the owner of the horse?" she asked, her voice full of shock. "Tabatha, this is a huge deal. He's practically the king's right hand man, and he certainly doesn't invite just anyone over for dinner. You would have to be someone of great importance..."
"You think he knows who I am?" I asked in concern. Angela had told me Braeden knew something of my mother's powers, but did that mean he knew who my father was? And even though my father didn't have soldiers down here, that didn't mean he didn't have supporters.
"I don't know..." she said hesitantly. "But it could explain why he invited you over."
"He was very impressed with my skills as a rider... Perhaps he just wants to talk about horses?" I didn't sound very convincing, even to myself.
"I'm not so sure," she replied. "But you cannot refuse him for fear of offending one of the most powerful men in the court. I would be wary if I were you, Tabby." By this time we were walking briskly through the corridors towards the room we both shared.
Isabelle rifled around in her closet for a little bit while I sat impatiently on my small bed. After a few more minutes, she came out with a satisfied grin on her face. "Finally, I found it!" she exclaimed triumphantly. She then held up the most beautiful gown I'd ever seen. It was black velvet over blue satin with a square neckline and lacing up the front. The sleeves were long and billowed out at the ends, and all over the blue satin was black embroidery depicting vines and leaves. The edges of the neckline and sleeves were trimmed in white ribbon. Although I had detested dresses in the past, I thought that I might enjoy wearing this one. After all, I couldn't dress in a tunic and breeches for dinner with a lord.
"Oh," I said breathlessly, "Isabelle, it's absolutely beautiful! Where on earth did you get it?" A sad sort of smile spread over her face.
"It was my mother's wedding gown," she replied sadly. I froze, my heart skipping a few beats.
"Isabelle, I can't wear that. It was your mother's!"
"No, no," she insisted, "I want you to wear it. Besides, it's the nicest thing either of us has, and you need to look beautiful tonight—well, more beautiful than normal, I mean." Hesitantly, I took the dress from her and she helped me into it. I borrowed one of her corsets, which was much tighter than mine, and served to push my chest up almost over the neckline. Otherwise, the dress fit me perfectly. Isabelle helped me to do my hair into two braids that went along the side of my head and met at the nape of my neck into an elaborate bun. I borrowed a pair of her slippers. Then she powdered my face and lined my eyes with kohl. When she stepped away, I inspected my face in the mirror and hardly recognized myself. I looked...pretty. "You look beautiful, Tabby," she said quietly. "Now come on, you've got to get going."
She walked me to the gate of the castle and waved me off. I mounted my newly acquired horse—sidesaddle, of course—and draped my skirt over his foreleg. I waved back at her over my shoulder and set off into the city in search of Lord Braeden's house.
I arrived and a stable boy took my horse round the back to be watered and fed. The horse whinnied nervously and I sent him feelings of calm before they disappeared around the corner. When I banged the heavy brass knocker on the front door, it swung open and I was greeted by a butler.
"Welcome, Lady Tabatha," he said. I didn't understand why everyone around here insisted on calling me "lady", but it seemed it did no good to tell them any differently. I thanked the butler and then gazed around the entrance hall. This place was huge... There was a shining chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling, and a grand staircase ran up the middle of the room, splitting off into two separate wings at the top. While I was admiring the beauty of the room, Lord Braeden entered from a side door.
"Welcome, my lady," he said warmly, a broad smile lighting up his rugged, yet handsome, features. I curtsied, feeling like I ought to. It surprised me how easily all of this nobility stuff came to me. But I supposed I was born with it... My father was a king, after all.
"Please, Lord Braeden, I beg of you. There is no need to call me 'my lady'. I assure you, I am not nobility," I said. He looked me up and down for a moment.
"I'm sure," he said softly. He said this so quietly that I wasn't even sure I'd heard him. "Please, let us go to the dining room. Dinner will be served shortly." He took me by the hand and held it at a level just below his shoulder, leading me through a great door on the right wall of the main entryway. A butler opened it and we walked through.
Inside was a gigantic table in the middle of the room; it would have easily fit twenty people, if not more. A fire burned brightly in its hearth at the head of the table. What I was not expecting to see, however, was another person seated in the chair to the right of the one at the head of the table. He stood as Lord Braeden and I entered the room and walked around to pull out the chair I assumed I would be sitting in.
"Lady Tabatha," Lord Braeden announced, continuing with the honorific that I so detested, "I would like to introduce you to my son and heir, Miles." Braeden's son took me by the hand and gently kissed it like a gentleman. The room was dimly lit, and I couldn't rightly see his face. When he stood up straight, the firelight caught his face so that I could see it... and I was nearly knocked off my feet; I was staring into those grey eyes I'd seen at the coliseum earlier.
"It's a pleasure, m'lady," he said, his voice deep and rich. But there was a certain edge to it, and his face was hard as stone, all except for his eyes. They cut into me... just the way that Murtagh's had. I found that I couldn't say anything; so stunned was I by how similar he and Murtagh were. Miles' personality was even the same as when I'd first met Murtagh: haughty and mysterious. He released my hand and took his seat at the right hand of his father's chair. Lord Braeden pushed in my chair as I sat and then took his own seat.
"Well, this is pleasant, isn't it?" he said, looking back and forth between his son and me. I smiled at Braeden and assured him that it was. When I looked at Miles, he was simply staring at me darkly. I couldn't figure out if I'd done something to offend him, or if that was simply his charming personality. With great effort, I tore myself away from his mysterious gaze and looked back at Lord Braeden.
"My lord," I said. "I was wondering about something. Why, exactly, did you invite me here for dinner? I am not sure that I have done anything to deserve such an honor." He laughed brightly and then stole a quick glance at his son.
"Well, it is—at least in part—because of the great skill with horses that you showed at the Market today," he explained, taking a bite of a piece of fruit I didn't recognize. There was a kindness in his voice, and something pleasant about his mouth when he spoke, that made me like him immediately. "I am very interested in the subject of horses, as I'm sure you have deduced for yourself, and would like to talk to you about your very...interesting methods."
"Well...that is quite a subject," I replied, laughing nervously. "But you stated that was only part of the reason. What is the other?" At this, he hesitated, biting his lower lip.
"We shall get to that later. For now, let us eat," he proclaimed joyously.
The food was marvelous; probably some of the best I'd ever had, and Lord Braeden was very sociable. We talked of all things horses, though I had little to say. How could I reveal to him how I'd calmed the horse with my mind?
"Surdan horses are truly the most magnificent creatures that I've ever seen," I said as we worked on the second course of the three-course meal.
"Absolutely," Braeden replied. "In my travels throughout the Empire, I saw many a fine beast. But none could match the beauty and power of Surdan horses, especially the Methras."
"How did you come across the Methras I got from you today?" I asked him interestedly. If they truly were as wild as Isabelle had said, then perhaps this Lord Braeden had some mental prowess of his own.
"Oh, that is a long story," Braeden laughed. "I collect horses to sell at the Horse Market as part of my living, in tandem with my estate. But I enjoy it; it gives me something to do in my free time, which seems to be growing nowadays." He laughed again and looked over at his son, but Miles didn't seem to be terribly amused. He was still staring me down; studying me as if he was searching for something. Braeden coughed awkwardly and then returned to his tale. "Anyways, I go into the deserts of Surda routinely; the best horses are always there. One day, I was there with my caravan of Catchers when I spotted this magnificent black stallion standing atop a sand dune. I knew instantly that I wanted to add him to my collection, but I also instantly knew what he was: a Methras. We all knew how hard it would be to catch him, but the prize would be well worth it if we could. So, with our goal clear in our minds, we set out to catch him.
"We tracked the stallion for three days, trailing at a distance and moving by night. But somehow, he always knew just when we were about to come up on him. And then..." Lord Braeden paused here for dramatic effect. "One night, we came upon the beast while he was sleeping. I myself did the honor of slipping the first rope around his neck. The horse awoke and went into a frenzy, but we were able to tie him down somehow." Braeden gesticulated wildly with his arms, which reminded me of Brom in a way. "After that, it was simply a matter of keeping him locked up. Then we brought him to the Horse Market, and the rest you know." I smiled widely at him.
"That is quite a tale," I agreed, taking a small bite off of my fork.
"Yes, and one that I do love to tell. Which reminds me, I would very much like to know how you calmed the horse," he asked, folding his hands beneath his chin. At this, Miles sat forward in his chair.
"Well, that I really can't say," I lied, shrugging innocently. "I merely tried to convey to the beast that I was a friend and meant him no harm. Obviously, the horse couldn't understand my words, but I suppose he got my general meaning. He is a beautiful creature and I am very pleased that I have him." I waited for him to reply, and I wondered how long it would be before he mentioned how he knew my mother as Angela had suggested he did.
"Yes, well my men were becoming tired of trying to contain him, so I'm very pleased that I found an owner who can," Braeden said, still studying me carefully. By now, the dessert had come and we turned to stories of our childhoods.
Braeden explained to me how he'd grown up in the Empire, but had fled to Surda as a young man under threat of being drafted into the Imperial Army. The king here was most welcoming and he quickly advanced through the court to become a noble in his own right. When he asked me about where I came from, I lied and told him I'd grown up in a small village near the capital city, and fled to the Varden a few months ago. At least the last part was true. Miles, of course, said nothing.
When dessert was over, Braeden stretched his hands out behind his head. "Well, Lady Tabatha, would you mind joining me in the library? There is a certain book about the Methras I think you would find most helpful in caring for your horse. I'd like very much to show it to you." He stood and offered his outstretched hand.
"I would love that," I replied, taking his hand and allowing him to pull me out of my chair. If I wasn't so terrified of my father, I think I would have rather enjoyed being a lady.
"I think I will retire for the evening, Father," Miles said, standing from his chair. That was the most I'd heard him speak throughout the entire evening.
"Very well, Miles. Don't forget, we're visiting the estate tomorrow," Braeden said.
"I won't" the young man replied gruffly. Miles walked over and bowed before me stiffly, taking my free hand and kissing it lightly.
"Goodnight, Lady Tabatha," he said, standing up straight and looking into my eyes. I felt myself swoon slightly and had to steady myself against Braeden's shoulder. I knew I was only acting this way because he looked so much like Murtagh, but I couldn't help myself.
"Goodnight, sir," I replied, unsure exactly what his title was. I gave a small curtsy, trying to remember where I'd learned to do that, and then he left, walking briskly away as if there was some virulent and contagious disease in the room.
"Come along," Lord Braeden beckoned, pulling me out of the room and up the sweeping grand staircase. I expected to see Miles hurrying up the stairs in front of us, but he'd mysteriously disappeared; both he and Murtagh had a knack for doing that. The little voice in my mind told me I needed to stop talking about Murtagh as though he was still alive, but I just couldn't get him out of my mind.
Braeden led me into the huge library of his home. The bookshelves reached all the way to the ceiling, ladders adorning each one. And there were all the books I could ever possibly want to read. "Oh my," I breathed quietly, "this is... amazing!" I hurried over to the shelves and inspected all the different books. I'm sure I looked like quite the fool, but I didn't care. And Braeden only laughed joyfully at my enthusiasm.
"It is good to see that young people still have an interest in reading," he said, following me at a distance in case I decided to turn on him suddenly.
"Well, not all. But I've always loved to read. I grew up reading all sorts of books. I believe I inherited that from my mother." I knew as soon as I said it that this would be the moment he'd reveal it to me. Angela had told me he knew my mother, and I needed to know how. Slowly, I turned to face him and saw a sad smile upon his face.
"Yes, I know." I stared at him for a long moment before I decided to chance it.
"You knew my mother, didn't you?" I asked. He seemed taken aback at my sudden inquiry, but the surprise quickly faded away.
"Angela told you, didn't she?" He laughed slightly and ran a hand through his thick, black hair. I nodded slightly when he looked back at me. "Come here, Tabatha, and sit down please." He gestured for me to take a seat in an armchair by the blazing fire. The nights here in the desert were cold. I sank into the plush chair and waited for his explanation. "Yes, I knew your mother. She and I were best friends," he said slowly.
"But how is that possible?" He smiled at me fondly before continuing.
"I was born and raised in Carvahall, just like you," he began slowly. "Your mother and I were about the same age and we lived next door to one another. So, naturally, we were good friends. The moment I saw your eyes, I knew who you were. Then, when you told me your name, my speculations were confirmed. You see, Tabatha was her mother's name. Adelaide's mother died when she was very young; she always vowed that if she ever had a daughter, she would name her Tabatha." I could feel the tears brimming in my eyes from all of this newfound information.
"And her... powers?" I prodded cautiously.
"She was a very gifted witch," he said fondly, smiling to himself a bit. "People came from far and wide to be healed by her. And she was good and kind." He paused here, and I was about to ask him what he knew of my father, before he let out a small gasp upon seeing the clock face situated behind me. "Goodness! Look at the time! It's nearly eleven-thirty. Really, Tabatha, I must insist you stay here tonight. I wouldn't dream of having a lady go home by herself at this time of night."
Every fiber of my being screamed at me to go back to the castle, where it was safe. But there was that tiny voice in my head telling me to stay and learn however much I could from this stranger. Slowly, I nodded. "Of course," I said weakly.
"Excellent." He bounded up out of his chair. "Come with me, and we'll get you all settled. I promise that we'll talk more in the morning." I nodded absent-mindedly as he took my hand and led me out of the grand library.
Lord Braeden took me down a winding corridor and opened a beautifully carved door. He led me inside where there were a couple of chambermaids laying out some nightclothes for me. "Don't hesitate to ask for anything," Braeden said, lingering by the door. "Just ring the bell and a maid will be in shortly. If no one comes, then go across the hall to Miles' room. He'll be happy to help." Somehow, I didn't think that me showing up in my nightgown at Miles' door in the middle of the night would make him very happy.
"Thank you, Lord Braeden, for your hospitality and generosity," I said. "I will never forget your kindness." He bade me a final goodnight and then left. Once the maids were gone, I slipped into the beautiful nightgown and then into the most comfortable bed I'd ever been in. For the longest time, I stared up at the blank ceiling, thinking about all the hectic events of the day. The final thought that coursed through my mind was whether or not Lord Braeden knew about my father and the fact that I was a princess.
