Green Rider #01 - Green Rider by Kristen Britain

Author:Kristen Britain [Britain, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Epic, Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780575099869
Publisher: Orion
Published: 1998-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

RALLY

Karigan stepped out into the overcast morning, leading The Horse down the alley to the main street. The stableboy watched after them wistfully, probably hoping for another copper. He deserved it, Karigan reflected. The Horse gleamed despite the dullness of the day. She just could not afford to dip into her reserves for more coins, but she had made a point of praising the boy for his fine care.

The main street was still muddy. Townsfolk walked on wooden boards lined in front of nearly every building and storefront, but the boards didn’t help if one had to cross the street or veer off course. Women held their long skirts high, their faces in perpetual frowns as they trudged through the slop. Karigan grimaced herself as her foot sucked in the mud. The shine on The Horse’s coat would not last long.

She mounted to let The Horse deal with the mud, and they went in search of a food vendor. Shopkeepers were just opening their doors and throwing back shutters. A blacksmith fired up his forge and the roar of flame could be heard all the way out into the street. North could have been any town awakening, but this one was without refinement. She missed the cobbled streets of Selium.

She found a shop with cluttered shelves of baked and dried goods, coarse cloth, axes, knives, rope, handsaws, blankets, lamps, flour, sugar, lard . . . everything a town of this sort could use. She dismounted and hitched The Horse to a post in front of the shop. She scraped mud off her boots on an iron rung placed outside the doorway just for that purpose.

As she stepped inside, she heard a shout on the street. She peered through a window and watched a man, encumbered by two sacks, running through the mud, making little progress. He was pursued by another man whose white shopkeeper’s smock was splattered with mud.

“Come back with that, you thief!”

The shopkeeper, unencumbered, caught up with the other man, and jumped on him. The two fell into the muck, each grappling with the other. Passersby paused to watch the scene. A dagger flashed in the thief’s hand, and he struck down at the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper loosed a hollow wail that Karigan felt every inch up her spine. The thief had stabbed the shopkeeper, and no one had attempted to stop him.

The thief climbed to his feet, threw the two sacks over his shoulder, and walked away. Pedestrians ignored the thief and simply walked around the shopkeeper’s body as if it were no more than a rock obstructing their path.

Someone clucked his tongue behind Karigan. A burly, bald-pated man in a white smock shook his head, his jowls wobbling. “Old Mael didn’t take any precautions.” He patted a short sword sheathed at his side. Anywhere else, a shopkeeper wearing a sword was an unusual sight.

“Isn’t anyone going to do anything?” Karigan demanded.

“Old Garl will be along to pick up his body,” the shopkeeper said.

“But the thief—”

“Who’s gonna run after him? You?”

Karigan blushed with shame.

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