(Path of the Dragon Mage: Exiled) 35. Horseman's Offer (Patreon)

Corvus made it back to the estate in time to fall  into bed and catch exactly one hour of sleep before Solt bellowed for  him to wake up for breakfast.

He cracked open his gummy eyes to see a new notification waiting for him.

Congratulations! Due to  repeated physical exposure, you have developed: Exhaustion Resistance.  Your inadequate night sleep penalty will be reduced.

Warning: Due to an  inadequate amount of sleep, stamina debuff is been engaged. Your stamina  well will not regenerate above 96% until you achieve eight hours of  sleep in adequate conditions.

Not much change considering the usual maximum stamina penalty was  five percent. However, the effect was cumulative if he didn't sleep well  multiple days in a row. So, he would take it.

He still felt brain fogged and slow as he dressed and got ready for  the rest of his day. In addition, new anxiety buzzed at the back of his  mind.

It had been so easy to tell Gwen and Roan his secret. They'd half  guessed already, and they'd reacted well... once the shock had worn off.  He wanted to believe they would keep their word not to tell anyone  else, but he had his own exile from the palace as evidence of how  quickly he could be betrayed.

If one of them spilled his secret... how much time would he have?  Would the town guard believe one of the Horsefolk? Corvus had been given  the impression they weren't regarded as trustworthy by the rest of the  commoners.

However, someone might be curious enough to investigate. Solt would  speak up for him, perhaps even help defend him. But if someone made a  search and discovered the dragon egg...

Again and again, Corvus found himself glancing in the direction of  Duckwater Village. However, there was no movement along the main road.

Noting his distraction, Solt ran him through extra drills, followed up by another bout of sparring.

Corvus surprised them both with a feint that actually worked. The  edge of his wooden sword grazed the outside of Solt's arm. It wasn't  much of a hit, but it was by far the closest he'd come.

He hesitated for a bare moment, anticipating a skill increase  notification that never arrived. So he was caught flat-footed by Solt's  vicious reprisal — one that drove Corvus clear out of the marked  sparring circle and took him to the ground.

Corvus scowled up at his master. "Was that necessary?"

"Remember this when you face the demons, boy," Solt said grimly. "You either go for the kill or you don't try at all."

* * *

Despite his prickling anxiety, no one from the village guard came for  him that day, or the next. By the morning of the third day, he started  to believe his secret was safe.

Every night he snuck out to the lake, but Gwen and Roan were never  there. However, Gwen left several brief notes for him pinched between  two rocks to keep the wind from blowing the thin, much scraped,  parchment away.
Her handwriting was atrocious. From what he could  read of the note, she and Roan were busy. Though she didn't specify with  what or when they would be next able to visit.

By the time a full week had passed, he began to worry all over again.

Then, two evenings later, he found Gwen waiting for him at the lake's  edge. She was grinning. "There you are! I was hoping you'd come."

"Me? You're the one who hasn't shown up—"

"Sorry, sorry. My cousin, Kressa, is set to receive her companion.  I've been cooking and cleaning, you have no idea." She rolled her eyes  expressively. "But the ceremony is tonight, and Dad said you can come."

"Your dad... I can what? The Horseman knows about me?" A thrill of  fear cut his breath shot. Had Gwen told him about his status as a prince  in exile?

"Of course he knows you," she said impatiently. "You were in our yurt the first time you collapsed, remember?"

He relaxed, remembering the conversation he heard between Kale the  Horseman and Solt. With all that had happened recently, he had not  thought much about it.

The quest he'd just completed for Roan said he would earn reputation  with Kale. Could this invitation be a direct result of that?

Gwen continued, "He knows you're my friend — don't give me that look.  Roan and I would never tell him about your dragon egg, or the prince  stuff. We promised."

'Prince stuff?' he mouthed, amused and not sure if he should be offended or not.

"You didn't bring your dragon egg tonight, did you?" Gwen asked.

"No." Truthfully, he had grown a little concerned about the egg. She  still pulsed warmly against his fingertips, but the strength of the  pulse felt... shallower, somehow, since she'd revived Corvus. He had no  idea if dragon eggs were able to regenerate their own health and mana —  if they had the same sort of system as him at all — but he thought it  best he leave her under the bed in a nest of blankets tonight. To rest  up.

"Good! Then come here." Grabbing his wrist, Gwen tugged him to the  lake's edge and made him sit down on one of the large rocks. Then she  pulled out long strips of red and blue fabric from her pockets.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She gave him a look that suggested he was being an idiot. "Making you  look like a horseman. People from all the clans will be there and you  don't want to stand out, do you?"

"But... I'm not a horseman."

He remembered again that had been offered as a Path when he first  left the palace. He had not seriously considered it, seeing as it meant  he would never hatch his dragon egg, but—

"Well, you'll be a horseman tonight," Gwen said, giving him a start.  "Besides, you don't want to go around telling everyone you're Solt's  apprentice and risk word getting back to him, do you? No, of course  not," she said before he could answer. "If anyone asks where your  companion is, tell them she is with NightShade. There's always a bunch  of mares clustered near him. No one will think anything of it."

"But—"

"That reminds me. Roan's CloudStrike is already showing signs she's  in estrus. He thinks that charmed horseshoe is working a treat..."

She continued on, and Corvus found he didn't have any choice but to  sit still and have her weave fabric in his dark hair. She tied the red  and blue strips in at the base of his skull as if they were colorful  strands.
"There." She stood back in satisfaction. "Take a look."

He leaned over and glanced at the reflection in the water.

The boy who stared back at him hardly resembled the one he remembered  from the palace. The constant exercise had melted the softness in his  cheeks, making his long face look leaner. His own silver eyes stared out  at him, made bright by the red and blue strips of clothing in his dark  hair. He looked... older.

"I like it," he said cautiously as if testing out the idea.

Gwen grinned. "I knew you would. Come on! The ceremony will start soon."

Then she was dragging him away from the water and to NightShade who waited patiently.

NightShade took a few roundabout paths through the tall sage that  Corvus was not familiar with. However, he knew they were drawing close  to the Horsemen clan when he smelled roasting meats in the air. Soon, he  caught the babble of laughter and calls from a crowd of people.

Corvus gulped. This was nothing like the large number of people he'd  experienced while at DuckWater village. Those had been peasants going  about their shopping and paying no mind to him.

These folk were also peasants, of course, but he was given to  understand this was a formal occasion. He had been through plenty of  those at the palace: Stressful situations where nobles and men and women  of great power had stared at him. Judged him. Most spoke about his lack  of magical progress behind their hands.

Formal events meant stiff, uncomfortable clothing, being on his best  behavior, enduring his father's silent disapproval, and avoiding  whatever schemes his mother created to make a scene.

This won't be the same, he told himself. Gwen, he was sure, wouldn't place him in that kind of societal trap.
He forced himself to breathe deeply. To be calm.

You have increased your Emotional Control skill.
New level: Beginner 4

That was interesting, he hadn't leveled that skill in some time.

At that moment, NightShade broke through the last of the brush and to the cleared area of the Horsemen village.

Several  people made way for the large stallion, most with drinks in their  hands. Others called out greetings that Gwen returned cheerfully. No one  seemed to notice or care about Corvus.

Gwen leaned back against Corvus's chest and spoke to him in a low  tone. "The other ribbon colors mean they come from different clans." She  touched her own red and blue ribbons in explanation. "We're the biggest  and the best, but almost every other clan has sent one family to be  represented here."

Corvus nodded and took a closer look at the people as they passed by.  In the firelight, he saw every man, woman, and child had the cloth  strips woven in their hair. Men who went bald wore gaudily beribboned  hats, instead. Some women did the same with filmy veils.

Most ribbons were red and blue, like Gwen's. There were a few others  here and there — green, gold, silver, and more. Gwen had been right.  Without her handy-work, he would have stood out from the rest.

Gwen paused NightShade at the tents. When they dismounted, she  thanked the horse and patted his rump. NightShade whickered something  back and wandered off without guidance to join the rest of the loosely  organized herd which stood at the edge of the firelight.

Gwen looked around with satisfaction. "Good, the choosing hasn't started yet."

"How can you tell?"

She pointed. An open-aired pavilion had been set up in the center of  the village. That was where the milling crowd was thickest. Set upon a  high table was a girl a few years younger than Corvus, twelve or so.

Unlike everyone else around, her brown hair was woven with stripes of gold fabric. They caught the sun like fire.

"That's Kressa," Gwen said. "After the meal is done, she'll be led to the herd and her companion will choose her."

"The horse chooses the rider?"

She nodded. "Either a full stallion or a male foal. That's how it  always is — you get opposite to what you are. Dad said it provides  balance."

Was that why his own dragon egg was female? No, the royals in the past had dragons of either sex.

Before he could think much on that, Gwen pulled him to the side.  "Come on, we haven't missed all the feasting and I'm starving. And, oh!  They serve special sweet wine. You have to try that, too."

Before he knew it, he had some sort of fire-roasted chicken leg in  hand that was bigger than his forearm. Gwen had gotten her hands on a  skin of wine to share which was much sweeter than any he'd tasted  before, with none of the sophistication he was used to.

That made it much better.

The second he and Gwen were done eating, she dragged him to a roaring  bonfire where men and women were dancing. Corvus had a moment of panic —  he knew none of the steps among these people — but within a few minutes  saw there were no true steps to learn.

The horsefolk danced in different broad age groups: The children, the  young adults (who seemed more inclined to court than dance), and the  older and married couples. The last group seemed less inclined to dance  and instead set the beat with drums on the outside of large circles.

Corvus found himself prancing around the fire, trading grips with  complete strangers, and laughing. He caught flashes of Gwen laughing  back at him with bright eyes. He even danced a few steps with Roan, who  was openly grinning for once.

The other boy yelled something about CloudStrike — Corvus couldn't catch exactly what it was, but it seemed to be good news.

Breathless, he only took breaks from the dancing to sip more wine...  which always seemed to be at hand. Soon, he felt dizzy with a light  feeling he'd rarely experience before. Happiness.

Every face around him was smiling in good cheer. No adults scowled at him — no one questioned what he was doing there at all.

He had never felt so free. It was every bit as good as flying on the back of a dragon.

Suddenly, at an unseen signal, a ripple went through the crowd. The  few players put down their instruments, the dancers stopped, and all  turned towards the main pavilion.

The girl in gold stood between two proud parents and flanked by older  teenagers who looked so alike they must have been older siblings.

Kale the Horseman — Gwen and Roan's father — stood before them all and spoke.

"Today, we welcome Kressa into our clan, not as a child, but as a  young woman. She has been judged old and wise enough to take care of her  companion and have her companion take care of her. Today, she takes the  first step into adulthood." He turned to her. "Welcome to the clan,  Kressa."

The crowd erupted into cheers.

Compared to palace speeches, Kale's had been ridiculously short. Corvus found he preferred this type.
The Horseman waved his hand and the crowd obediently parted.

Grinning, Kressa walked through the clapping, cheering people towards  the massive herd that waited for her. People on both sides called out  their private encouragements.

"Pick a good one, Kressa!"

"You can do this!"

"Kressa!"

Corvus remembered walking the long staircase down to the royal  hatching grounds with the King to pick out his dragon egg. It had been a  solemn, stressful situation. Then, from the moment he emerged, everyone  except his aunt had gone out of their way to make him feel like he had  not chosen his egg correctly.

I had picked right, though. The dragon egg is for me.

And for the first time, he was glad he never managed to hatch the egg  while he'd lived in the palace. He did not want his dragon to ever know  that stifling, unloving atmosphere.

Alone and unafraid, Kressa walked into the herd beyond. Soon, she was lost among horsey bodies.

What happens now? Corvus wanted to ask Gwen, but everyone was standing so close, he knew he would be overheard. Instead, he watched and waited.

It seemed to take no time at all before there was a movement within the herd.

"That's a good sign," Gwen said. "Sometimes it takes ages, but it's lucky when they choose quickly."
Her words were meant for Corvus, but several people around her nodded in silent approval anyway.

"How long did it take for y—"

Before Corvus finished, Kressa emerged with a young gray colt trotting behind her.

The crowd erupted into cheers.

* * *

The celebration ran late into the night. Eventually, his feet sore  from dancing, Corvus ducked away from the bonfire. He needed fresh air  to clear his head of that sweet wine.

He stood near a fence meant to separate the clan's space from the  beginning of the thick sagebrush. There were no corrals for the horses,  though a large group stood peaceably nearby anyway.

What would happen if he dared to walk among the herd? Would a mare or  filly choose him? Not that he would ever forsake his dragon egg, but...

"Your companion is not out there."

The deep voice caught him by surprise. He turned to see Kale the Horseman standing nearby.

Corvus started to bow in a traditional court greeting, then caught himself. "S-sir?"

"I can see you've fully recovered from your near drowning, young Corvus," Kale remarked dryly. He gestured to the cloth woven in his hair. "I suppose that's my daughter's doing?"

"... Yes, sir."

"And I suppose your master does not know where you are?"

Corvus grimaced.

Kale's laugh was warm and rolling. "I'm not angry with you, son. Be sure to be back home before he comes looking."

"I will."

He fully expected Kale to leave, but the man studied him for a  moment. "I've seen that look on youngling's faces before. You were  wondering what would've happened if you went out among the herd."

"I wouldn't," Corvus said, alarmed.

"But you are thinking about it."

This didn't feel like the type of verbal trap his mother or father  used to lay for him, but he sensed there was something deeper in Kale's  words. "The clan is... much different from where I grew up." Which was  the best non-answer he could think of in a moment's notice.

The Horseman nodded as if he had said something wise. Then he stepped  up to rest his broad arms across the top rail of the fence. It was easy  to see where Roan got his large frame from.

"The horses don't choose outsiders as companions. You have to be born  with the blood, and you don't have it. I'm sorry," Kale said. "But that  doesn't mean this life can't be for you, if you choose it."

Corvus looked up at him. "Sir?"

Kale was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was quiet as  if not to carry. "I know the sort of boys Old Solt trains, and I know  what he trains them for."

He felt himself stiffening, sensing an insult. "I’m not afraid of war."

"You're not? I am. I've seen the demons. If not for SoundSwift living up to her name..." He trailed off.

"What happened?"

But Kale only shook his head. "The mountain border is no place for a child."

"I'm fifteen, I am hardly a child."

Kale snorted. "Well, I suppose they raise the noblemen differently. I  can respect that. We horsemen live differently than most. We have no  fixed home, and we move often before we overgraze the land."

Corvus understood what was being said. His friends would soon move away. He dropped his gaze. "Oh."

"I tell you this because you've done a great favor for my heir. I  don't hold much by superstition, but if CloudStrike turned out to be  barren, Roan would never have been named Horseman after my death."

"I... I..." He leaned hard on his Deception Skill for a way to  convince him he misunderstood. Several fleeting ideas flashed in front  of his mind, each more ridiculous than the next.

"Don’t insult both of us by trying to deny it. My children have said  nothing to me, but they are not as sly as they think they are. I saw the  charmed horseshoe on CloudStrike. Don't worry, your secret is safe."

That secret, perhaps. Did Kale know of the others? Corvus' most dangerous secret? "As you say, sir."

Kale looked at him. "What I am saying is, this is not a bad life. Not  all horsemen are bonded to horses. We have spouses and friends among  the clan. Roan speaks well of you, and he does not do that for many.  Gwen seems fond, too," he added, and before Corvus could react to that  he leaned a little closer, his tone lowering still more. "I'm not  offering you a place among my people out of misplaced generosity. A  hedge witch would be an asset to any clan."

So the man most definitely knew his secret, and he wanted  Corvus' power for his own. For the first time, Corvus felt on familiar  ground. It was not insulting. It was expected.

He was even tempted. To live with these free-spirited people...

"I'm honored, sir."

"I'm sensing there's a but in there," Kale said, amused.

"But, I..." For one thing, he was certain that Solt would never let  him leave. For another… Aunt Sunli had sent him to train with the man.  It may have been under false pretenses, but as long as he stayed with  Solt he still had a connection to the palace, even if it was tenuous. He  wasn't certain he was ready to give that up.

Corvus could explain none of this. So, he settled on, "It wouldn't be appropriate."

Kale did not seem to be disturbed or disappointed. "Well, think on  it. For now, the night grows late. Find Gwen and get those ribbons out  of your hair. Then, assuming you're not in trouble, tell your master you  are both invited here for a proper dinner. Show up when you like. The  stewpot is ever-boiling."

With that dismissal, Kale turned away to regard the horses. Several  stood not far away as if politely waiting for the conversation to finish  up

As Corvus walked away, he turned back once to see the Horseman speaking with the gathered horses.