Chapter 2 – A Horse and a Hand

"Are you sure you're alright?" asked Garose with concern.

"I can take care of myself! I am a mercenary mage, for Elimine's sake!" replied Kerna grumpily. She hated the fact that they treated her like a little girl. She thought she would at least get some freedom by becoming a mercenary but here she was, surrounded by people she thought she had escaped.

Derok shook his head. "You're lying, Kerna. If there's one thing I know about magic users, it's that magic takes a terrible toll on their energy levels."

Garose and Kerna looked at Derok, stunned. "How'd you know that?" asked Kerna. Derok looked affronted. "I'm not stupid you know."

"You sure act that way." muttered Garose to himself. Kerna giggled a little on hearing Garose but then turned serious. "How is my magic making me weak now?" she quizzed.

"Well, you did practise a lot with the fire tome I gave you and you might be tired now. You certainly seem slower. Physically, of course. I've also noticed that in the arena, the sages don't move anywhere but they seem to have their energy drained. So I put two and two together and figured it out." replied Derok.

"How much money do we have?" asked Garose suddenly.

"Ummm...more than...10 000g. That's all I know." answered Derok.

"Good. That's enough for a horse. I've figured it all out. We buy a horse so we can alternate riding it. That way we can have less rest stops since we don't get tired often. If not, we can buy more supplies and use it as a pack horse."

"What about supplies for the horse? And what if the horse gets tired?" Kerna's eyes were shining with the idea but she still needed to know if there were problems.

"The Sacaens' horses run all day. Lots of the horses are wild but some get caught and some of the people bring them to Lycia." said Garose, "Plus, we can get supplies from the same market. There's always something there."

"Perfect, I need a new hand axe. This one is falling apart. Huh? What's wrong, Garose?" Garose had just stopped. "We can't go to Araphen. The marquess hates Sacaens and they're the ones who bring the horses in." Kerna felt saddened that the horse she wanted would have to wait until they reached Bulgar. Then she brightened. "Do you reckon the horses are sold at Tania or Khathelet? I wouldn't mind if it was just a Lycian horse really."

"Why are we going to Lycia anyway? Couldn't we just cut to Bulgar?" asked Derok, staring hard at a map.

"I'm surprised you even know how to use a map. I want ot visit Lycia because I heard that mercenaries are in demand. Plus, I think the horses are cheaper." He didn't add that he also wanted to visit orphanages. "We go to Khathelet then onto Araphen and Bulgar. We stick to Araphen because I heard that mercenaries were needed there the most. It seems that there have been rebellions against the marquess for baring the Sacaens and I want to see it for myself if it's true."

"You know, if you want a horse, you'll have to get use to the smell!" exclaimed Derok, holding his nose.

"I used to go to Count Caerleon's stables all the time. Troubadours and valkyries used the horses and, since my uncle and the count are good friends, the count let me ride his horses. Let's check 'em out!" The trio wandered for hours, overwhelmed not just by the horses but all the items up for sale.

"It seems we came to a festival right on time." observed Garose, critically studying a huge, strawberry roan horse. Kerna was looking at aretired dun battlehorse when she heard a man yelling and whipping a small horse. She ran over yelling "Don't hurt that poor thing!"

"What's it to you kid?" the ownder spat. Kerna was shaking with fury, small flames erupting near her, surprising people and sending themscurrying for cover until they thought it was safe. The owner realised she was a mage and backed down. Kerna ran her expert eye over the horse. It was small, had a shaggy grey coat (a winter coat she supposed) and a couple of whip marks. Its coat was caked with dried mud. "What type of horse is this?" she enquired curiously.

"It's a steppes horse. Y'know, from Sacae. i bought her from a Sacaen fellow who was too poor to take care her. Fellow was crying but he had no choice. I've had her for two and a half years and look! Already half dead! Never trust those savages and their half dead mounts! No-one wants to buy her. That's why she's only 3 500g." Kerna was angry at the rascist man in front of her but she thought of a way to make him pay. He had already offered a low price. Why not make it lower?

"I'll give you 2 500g."

"What! 3 250g."

"2 750."

"3 100g."

"I'll only go as far as 2 750g. Good day." Kerna turned to leave.

"No, wait! How about 3 000g!"

"I'll take her." Kerna looked into the intelligent, liquid brown eyes of the beautiful-to-be horsse and stroked her, talking to her. The horse sighed with pleasure and instantly loved Kerna. It hadn't been loved for two and a half long years.

"Garose, hey, Garose! Get over here!" Kerna took a few steps toward Garose and was surprised to find the mare following her! "How much?" asked Garose with a smile. Then he saw the broken horse and added in an undertone"It better be worth it." Kerna gave him the price and his smile broadened. "Your charm is unbelievable."

"I think I'll call you...Khathelet, after the city I found you in. It sounds like a femine name too, eh?" The mare nickered at the sound of her voice, enjoying a long needed rub down and grooming. Garose joined them.

"I'm glad you bought that horse. She was cheap and and she looks promising not that she's cleaned up."

"Yeah. I've named her Khathelet. I wonder if -"

A scream came from the town centre. Rushing out of the inn stables, Garose and Kerna, followed by Khathelet, watched as several black horses with black cloaked riders grabbed some teenage girls. Kerna immediately vaulted onto Khathelet and girl and horse thundered towards the mysterious men, Kerna already summoning fire from her tome.

"Kerna, no!" Garose sprinted into the fray, joined seconds later by Derok, twirling his hand-axe. The black horses reared in fright from the flames cast by Kerna. They were strangely tuned up by the sun light already. Their world was always in darkness. Several men let go of the girls but it wasn't until Garose and Derok joined the scrum that all girls were accounted for. Yet the horsemen kept on fighting and Garose was knocked down by flailing hooves. He saw someone else go down as well, a child by the look of what Garose could see, which was a hand. Garose grabbed the hand, which belonged to a young boy, and crouched down low, protecting the boy like he used to protect his fellow orphans if they were teased.

Finally, the horsemen fled. Garose didn't know why he grabbed the hand. Why should he just happen to be near a boy who needed help? It was impulse, he guessed. When the dust finally settled, everyone started crowding around him.

"Oi! Cut him some slack! Let him breathe!" called Derok. The crowd dispersed, leaving the trio alone. Garose looked at the boy's face and gasped out loud. Through all the blood spouting from a cut on the temple, Garose saw a face that had haunted his dreams for the first few months of his orphanage life. He was looking at a younger version of his parents' murderer. Not only that, he wasn't wearing village clothes but a black cloak.