My earring best gift.
I nodded dully to the bird.
“I hope all is well in Celear,” Ailmon, one of two other exploratory committee elves stationed here with me, said as he handed me a small parcel of food to place into my saddlebags. Ailmon was a young elf of my age with blond-brown hair and light brown eyes. The morning was just born, the sky a dull pink painted over with strips of purple. While the missive had called for haste, I did not ride Hasulett in the dark. Too many terrible things could befall a horse and its rider in the dark of night. So I was striking out as the sun rose. The ride to Celear would take two full days in the saddle. If I rode hard, I could trim some time off that length, but it was doubtful. Click had returned to the rookery with my reply of “Leaving in the morn will ride hard—Beiro” scribbled on a clean bit of yellow beech paper. “My lady love Selphie works in the castle with Widow Poppy.”
“As a poulterer, we know,” Neldor, the older female elf who rounded out our band of scouts, slid into the conversation. “I’m sure all is well at the castle. The king might summon any of us back for any number of reasons.” She handed me a tightly rolled blanket.
“I suspect that it may be a dire call about the grand advisor,” I said as I tightened the girth strap under my gray gelding’s broad rib cage. “He was not well in his head when we left the castle. His health has been poor for the past few seasons.”
“That seems likely. The old duff had lived far too long for his own good,” Neldor said on the sly. She had little use for proper talk. Much like the dwarves here, she spoke what she felt. “Still, it will be a loss for the king.”
“Yes, that it will.” I turned to face the two elves who served with me. “Keep an eye on the dwarves. Do not let them push you to move through the woods faster than is needed. I hope toreturn quickly, but if I am tangled up at court, keep the project moving ahead but with respect for the beasts who dwell in the Glotte.”
“Yes, of course,” they both replied, shaking my hand before I mounted my horse. Both were highly skilled scouts, fine archers, and possessed the gift of creature speak. “Ride safely and with swiftness.”
“If you would, Beiro,” Ailmon asked as I took the reins in my hands. The camp was still yet, the workers slumbering away in their tents. “Seek out Selphie in the kitchen. Tell her I think of her hourly and long to hold her in my arms.”
Neldor rolled her eyes.
“I will tell her,” I vowed, smiling down at my two fellow explorers before running my hand down Hasulett’s strong neck, my mind reaching out to his.
Are you ready to ride?
Run. Run. Run.
Then we shall run.
With a snort, he pranced about, glad to be free from the stables to stretch his legs. I could feel his energy soaring as we spun to face the newly cut road through the Glotte.
“I will be back soon,” I shouted to my friends before giving the horse his head. We streaked out of the sleepy camp, his hooves hitting the hard-packed soil as he lowered his head for a grand run. Feeling his happiness, I laughed aloud, lying low on his back, his mane in my face, as we set off for Avolire.
