Talimar urged his horse forward, as did Beleg. “Kersath has volunteered to be your first bayolsei… teacher,” the Red Feather leader called back, his amused grin clearly evident in his voice. “He promised that he would not leave any lasting damage, but I will still utter a prayer on the wind for you.”
Beleg’s shoulders were moving wildly as he seemed to be suppressing a hearty laugh at Kre’s expense. Kersath seemed to slink up next to Kre if anyone could consider it possible to sidle along sneakily while on horseback. ‘Must be a Ylveryan night horse,’ Kre thought to himself, as if that were explanation enough.
To Kre’s surprise, Kersath said nothing as they rode side-by-side. The outdoorsy Ylveryan didn’t even spare a glance in his new student’s direction. Kre resolved that he would not be the first to break the silence.
The trail narrowed a bit and Kersath lagged behind a few paces to allow them to move single file. Kre tried carefully to move the branches out of the way in such a manner as prevent them from swinging back on Kersath, but whenever he glanced back, it seemed that Kersath was completely unbothered by the foliage, and he would simply smile sweetly back at Kre.
Kre knew that something was stirring in the odd Ylveryan’s mind, and he could not conceive of what trickery it might be. He could hear the movement of the rest of the column from ahead of them, and every so often caught a glimpse of one or two of the others about fifty or sixty feet ahead of him.
Eventually, the rhythm of the ride, the quiet of the forest around them, and the apparent solitude lulled Kre into what he would call a contemplative state.
Fsst!
Kre’s hand slapped to the back of his neck in an effort to smack down whatever little insect had bitten him just them, but his fingers instead found a small, feathered dart. He pulled it from his neck and brought it back in front of him to study it.
The small dart was a mass of tiny, stiff purple feathers tied expertly to a small wooden splinter. It was no longer than his pinky but far thinner.
“It was a two in three chance that I fired a drugged one. Your luck holds.”
Kre turned in his saddle to give his assailant a look of disbelief. “Why?” was the only thing he managed to get out despite all the words he wanted to hurl.
“You were doing so well paying attention to your surroundings when you were concerned that I was going to do something mean to you. Then your attention slipped, and I thought it would be wrong to disappoint you.”
Kre shook his head slowly and muttered something under his breath. Then he tossed the little dart back to Kersath. “You really are a lunatic, aren’t you?”
The Ylveryan grinned back at Kre, showing off his teeth as he snatched the dart out of the air and slid it casually back into his belt. “I have been called much, much worse,” he replied back, sending a slight chill down Kre’s spine as he imagined the kinds of things the man had done in the past to earn such aversion.
