Karigan’s eyes widened. “But I’m not . . .”

“Diplomatic?”

Karigan nodded.

The captain smiled again. “You’ve come a long way, and you have proven it by being the object of the Eletians’ favor.”

Karigan wondered how much favor remained after her confrontation with Lhean. Still, she was to them a known entity.

“Shouldn’t someone like a lord-governor do the diplomatic part?”

“You mean, like Lady Penburn’s delegation seeking Eletia a few years ago?”

“Yes.”

“Under the best of circumstances that might be the way it would go, but that sort of delegation requires, as you know, a great many people, horses, and supplies. The lord-governors are busy gathering their vassals and preparing for war. Plus, the Eletians believe the p’ehdrose lie north, and right now the north is perilous. By sending just two of you, it reduces the chance of Second Empire noticing. Also,” and now the captain folded her hands on her lap, “while you may not be the lady-governor of a province, you are a knight of the realm, which gives you weight in representing Sacoridia’s interests.

“As for when, the Eletians were vague. They did not give us anything more specific like ‘on the equinox’ as they did for the Blackveil expedition. They told us ‘when winter breaks.’ In the meantime, while the king makes his decision, and while we await something more definitive from the Eletians, you should continue your regular duties.”

Karigan frowned.

“Something wrong, Rider?”

“It’s just . . . What about Second Empire? I mean the fighting. I thought I’d be here to help.”

“Let us not buy trouble. Remember, if you are able to sway the p’ehdrose to our cause, and I do expect you to use your merchant’s power of persuasion, you will be doing a great service for the realm, and I suspect that even if you are not successful, there will be more than enough opportunity for you to draw a sword against our adversaries. Speaking of which . . .”

The captain stood and went back to her shelves and picked up an oblong item wrapped in cloth. “The quartermaster delivered this to me today.” She removed the cloth revealing a saber in a black scabbard. “It is, perhaps, not as fine as the sword you received last night, but it is as well made as any Rider blade. It weighs the same as the one you lost and, I am told, balances the same.”

Karigan rose and took the sword. The scabbard was unblemished, as was the blade when she drew it, which was very unlike the saber she had inherited from F’ryan Coblebay. Wrapped just below the guard was the black silk of the swordmaster.

“Fastion knotted that for me,” the captain said. “May the sword serve you well, though I also would wish you never have need of it.”

“Thank you,” Karigan said. She wondered what Daro would say now that she had two swords. “Er, you know that I broke Daro’s, don’t you?”

“Never fear, I know all about it, and rather think that it was the nature of the elemental that caused her blade to break. Daro will receive a new sword in time, as well.” The captain clasped her hands behind her back. “That is all I have for you today, but if you learn anything of interest in the tombs, please let me know. And, if your meeting with Agemon doesn’t take long, you can help Elgin in the records room after. He is most pleased with your work.”

Karigan waited to be dismissed, but the captain grew thoughtful and seemed to have something else on her mind. “Do you happen to know,” she asked, “which Rider Loon belongs to?”

“Who?”

“Tall gelding, white with black spots.”

“I know that horse,” Karigan replied, “but I didn’t know he’d been named.”

“So you don’t know which Rider he’s chosen?”

“No, Captain. As far as I know he hasn’t chosen . . .” She stared at the captain. “Did he choose you?”

The captain dropped back into her chair and looked unsettled. “Elgin thought the same thing. He didn’t think Loon had chosen any of our new Riders. Mara hadn’t heard either, and she believes all Rider and horse pairings are otherwise accounted for. I am the only one who seems to know his name and . . .”

What the captain didn’t finish saying, Karigan thought she could guess. There was a sense of bonding between the two of them.

“It appears,” the captain said, “that whatever fate governs such things, it was determined I require a younger horse for whatever trials lie ahead.” She did not look particularly happy. She was already the longest-serving Rider anyone had heard of, though considering the loss of recorded Rider history, there could have been others. As for the trials that lay ahead? One only had to consider Second Empire and Mornhavon the Black. In the same way new Riders seemed to hear the Rider call in response to impending conflict, it made sense the captain would attract a younger horse that could stand up to the demands of—of whatever was required.

“If you ask me,” Karigan said, “I think Bluebird would be just as happy to retire, at least from anything challenging. He is the lord of the pasture, you know.” And he was. Just as the captain oversaw her Riders, Bluebird took charge of all the Rider horses.

The captain smiled weakly. “I never expected to be doing this for so long that I required a new horse. I should be retiring like Bluebird, but the call won’t release me.”