Title: Fear
Author: Wendy (u01wmd@supanet.com)
Summary: What happened after the Immortals War, from the point of view of Miri.
Miri was no longer scared of ponies. Instead, she had learned to be scared of much
bigger things.
To a girl brought up with the plenty of the sea, the famine she saw around her was
needless. Hollow eyed children with swollen bellies, ragged farmers on the road to
the city in search of food, and a better life. Even Commander Buri's tales of Sarain
were nothing compared to this.
Miri had been one of these on the road to the city in a happier time. She had joined
the Queen's Riders before any of this started, whilst Ozorne was a strange name and
Carthak was a million leagues away. When the legendary animals that had plagued and
enriched Tortall in the years that had passed had been just that: legendary. The
Queen's Riders was far removed from her humble fishing village, with its solitary school
and temple. The Palace started as a bewildering yet spectacular monument to the greatness
of her country. Now it was home. A home she had not seen much in the past year.
Thundering down the side of the highway, she was delivering proclamations to the furthest
fiefs that swore loyalty to King Jonathan. More reforms, some changes in law. All very dry,
offering no hope to these poverty stricken farmers. Help was on its way - the lesser
aflicted fiefs were sending aid. Food and healers would be here soon. That was of little
comfort to that orphaned child, bawling by the side of the road. No strangr would help it,
and Miri knew that if she were to throw it some of her rations, they would be taken by
someone stronger and fitter. She would have gone hungry for no reason.
Suddenly, her pony reared and Miri had to fight to remain seated. A few rough hands grabbed
at her reins, and she knew her inattention had led to her stepping into an ambush. In the
not so distant past, people would never have dared attack Riders on the highway, but now,
desperate times bred desperate men. Her horse was worth more than she was: her tack and
pittance of money would be discarded, whilst her horse would be butchered and sold. It had
happened to incresing numbers of Riders recently.
Her boots and drawn dagger and steady seat soon saw off the ruffians. Hopefully she had
marked a few, rendering them liable to be questioned. But she would have to push on to
reach the nearest fief before dark. Then the roads became really dangerous.
******
"I don't see what all the fuss is about." Lord Argul's loud and strident tones rang out
from the top table. Miri had arrived just as his lordship was sitting down to dinner. She
was seated with the servants, in the back of the lavish hall. Lord Argul was what you could
call conservative. He liked his servants in their place, and his dinner on the table. Miri
had presented her dispatches to him before being led to her seat by a sullen maid. He was
reading them with grease stained fingers.
The utter silence of the room was unsurprising. Miri had been in these sorts of halls
before. The servants kept their heads down and ate, and ignored their lord as much as
possible. Miri's attempts of conservation had met with a shushing gesture on one side,
and a ducking motion from the other. The girls beside her were of an age with her youngest
sister: sixteen or so. Yet some of them were nursing young children and some of the others
showed signs of joining them sooner or later.
Miri was sorely tempted to ask after the fathers, nearly certain that my lord Argul would
be named. But the lord's pontificating got in the way of any discreet enquiries.
"It's ridiculous!" A loud belch punctuated this statement, as Argul waved the decleration
making bondsmen illegal in the air. He waved a chicken leg in the other. Miri went back to
her thin soup, wishing she didn't have to spend the night here. At least she could leave
with the first light of dawn, pleading urgent dispatches further along the border.
"How is a man supposed to keep body and soul together." At least she could leave. Her dinner
companions were stuck here until Argul decided he'd have enough of them, and then they
would join the steady stream of people headed towards Corus or Port Caynn. Her next port of
call was the near empty fief of Mindelan, friendly to the King, with the Baron away in the
Yamani Islands.
Suddenly, dinner was over, and the assembled struggled to its feet to watch Argul leave the
room. Miri sank back to her seat, looking for a respite from the exhaustion swmping her.
She'd been on the road a week, without stop, with meagre rations. It was an idiocy when the
steward appeared at her shoulder, ordering her to my lord Argul's chambers. Most lords
considered themselves above the Riders, and were happy to let them find a pallet among the
horses in the stables. Some lords even allowed her a bed in the house. Argul was evidently
not going to let her play the role of a mere messenger.
She caught sight of herself in a mirror as she left the hall. Eyes deeply shadowed, sunken
cheeks, the scar from a stormwing's claws standing sharply out in contrast to the paleness
of her skin. The rough wash she'd had at the well had merely slicked back her hair - the
rest of her remaining dusty from the road. Was there any sign of the hopeful youth she'd
been in this old and battle-scarred woman?
Luckily, Argul just wanted someone to rant at, not requiring more than a "yes, my lord"
every so often. Dealing with the nobility had never been something Miri was all that good
at. Thayet and Commander Buri didn't seem to count, and neither did the officers and knights
she'd met during the defence of Port Legann. These petty lords, whose influence only
extended as far as their fief's borders, were awkward to deal with sometimes. Some of them
expected far too much from a Rider. It was not that much later when the steward arrived once
more to lead her to a pallet, which she collapsed onto grateful, easily sliding into a
light sleep.
Miri never slept peacefully. The dreams were common now - first faces of dead friends -
Riders, then their wounds and then the monsters that wounded them. Miri was scared of the
monsters. It was easy to wake before dawn, saddle her pony and start riding against the
stream of people towards Mindelan.
This time she would just keep her eyes on the road.
Author: Wendy (u01wmd@supanet.com)
Summary: What happened after the Immortals War, from the point of view of Miri.
Miri was no longer scared of ponies. Instead, she had learned to be scared of much
bigger things.
To a girl brought up with the plenty of the sea, the famine she saw around her was
needless. Hollow eyed children with swollen bellies, ragged farmers on the road to
the city in search of food, and a better life. Even Commander Buri's tales of Sarain
were nothing compared to this.
Miri had been one of these on the road to the city in a happier time. She had joined
the Queen's Riders before any of this started, whilst Ozorne was a strange name and
Carthak was a million leagues away. When the legendary animals that had plagued and
enriched Tortall in the years that had passed had been just that: legendary. The
Queen's Riders was far removed from her humble fishing village, with its solitary school
and temple. The Palace started as a bewildering yet spectacular monument to the greatness
of her country. Now it was home. A home she had not seen much in the past year.
Thundering down the side of the highway, she was delivering proclamations to the furthest
fiefs that swore loyalty to King Jonathan. More reforms, some changes in law. All very dry,
offering no hope to these poverty stricken farmers. Help was on its way - the lesser
aflicted fiefs were sending aid. Food and healers would be here soon. That was of little
comfort to that orphaned child, bawling by the side of the road. No strangr would help it,
and Miri knew that if she were to throw it some of her rations, they would be taken by
someone stronger and fitter. She would have gone hungry for no reason.
Suddenly, her pony reared and Miri had to fight to remain seated. A few rough hands grabbed
at her reins, and she knew her inattention had led to her stepping into an ambush. In the
not so distant past, people would never have dared attack Riders on the highway, but now,
desperate times bred desperate men. Her horse was worth more than she was: her tack and
pittance of money would be discarded, whilst her horse would be butchered and sold. It had
happened to incresing numbers of Riders recently.
Her boots and drawn dagger and steady seat soon saw off the ruffians. Hopefully she had
marked a few, rendering them liable to be questioned. But she would have to push on to
reach the nearest fief before dark. Then the roads became really dangerous.
******
"I don't see what all the fuss is about." Lord Argul's loud and strident tones rang out
from the top table. Miri had arrived just as his lordship was sitting down to dinner. She
was seated with the servants, in the back of the lavish hall. Lord Argul was what you could
call conservative. He liked his servants in their place, and his dinner on the table. Miri
had presented her dispatches to him before being led to her seat by a sullen maid. He was
reading them with grease stained fingers.
The utter silence of the room was unsurprising. Miri had been in these sorts of halls
before. The servants kept their heads down and ate, and ignored their lord as much as
possible. Miri's attempts of conservation had met with a shushing gesture on one side,
and a ducking motion from the other. The girls beside her were of an age with her youngest
sister: sixteen or so. Yet some of them were nursing young children and some of the others
showed signs of joining them sooner or later.
Miri was sorely tempted to ask after the fathers, nearly certain that my lord Argul would
be named. But the lord's pontificating got in the way of any discreet enquiries.
"It's ridiculous!" A loud belch punctuated this statement, as Argul waved the decleration
making bondsmen illegal in the air. He waved a chicken leg in the other. Miri went back to
her thin soup, wishing she didn't have to spend the night here. At least she could leave
with the first light of dawn, pleading urgent dispatches further along the border.
"How is a man supposed to keep body and soul together." At least she could leave. Her dinner
companions were stuck here until Argul decided he'd have enough of them, and then they
would join the steady stream of people headed towards Corus or Port Caynn. Her next port of
call was the near empty fief of Mindelan, friendly to the King, with the Baron away in the
Yamani Islands.
Suddenly, dinner was over, and the assembled struggled to its feet to watch Argul leave the
room. Miri sank back to her seat, looking for a respite from the exhaustion swmping her.
She'd been on the road a week, without stop, with meagre rations. It was an idiocy when the
steward appeared at her shoulder, ordering her to my lord Argul's chambers. Most lords
considered themselves above the Riders, and were happy to let them find a pallet among the
horses in the stables. Some lords even allowed her a bed in the house. Argul was evidently
not going to let her play the role of a mere messenger.
She caught sight of herself in a mirror as she left the hall. Eyes deeply shadowed, sunken
cheeks, the scar from a stormwing's claws standing sharply out in contrast to the paleness
of her skin. The rough wash she'd had at the well had merely slicked back her hair - the
rest of her remaining dusty from the road. Was there any sign of the hopeful youth she'd
been in this old and battle-scarred woman?
Luckily, Argul just wanted someone to rant at, not requiring more than a "yes, my lord"
every so often. Dealing with the nobility had never been something Miri was all that good
at. Thayet and Commander Buri didn't seem to count, and neither did the officers and knights
she'd met during the defence of Port Legann. These petty lords, whose influence only
extended as far as their fief's borders, were awkward to deal with sometimes. Some of them
expected far too much from a Rider. It was not that much later when the steward arrived once
more to lead her to a pallet, which she collapsed onto grateful, easily sliding into a
light sleep.
Miri never slept peacefully. The dreams were common now - first faces of dead friends -
Riders, then their wounds and then the monsters that wounded them. Miri was scared of the
monsters. It was easy to wake before dawn, saddle her pony and start riding against the
stream of people towards Mindelan.
This time she would just keep her eyes on the road.
