Page 5 of Silverbow (The Godsung Saga #1)

Either way, as stablemaster, Del would draw the short straw, and all three of them knew he was unlikely to emerge in one piece. A smile flitted across Enya’s face.

“What are you laughing at, girl?” Del called. “I’ve been watching you dance with that dragon for weeks now. Don’t tell me you’re getting ideas about running off to the Vale.”

Enya snorted a laugh. “Do you reckon the Vale has suitors?”

“I reckon if you don’t pay attention and get that horse’s head up, you won’t need a dragon. He’ll do a fine job of launching you to the moon all on his own.”

Enya frowned and shortened her reins.

“Approach!”

The gate guard’s call rang through the yard, summoning a limping Marwar.

Ryerson House had not risen so far they kept more than a single man on the gate.

Still, Enya found herself wishing for brigands over suitors, and the look her father exchanged with the Master of Arms told her this was not a planned social call .

Relief washed over her as she turned the colt the other direction. She craned her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever it was that had turned off the Queen’s Road. A man stopped just before the open gate and raised a hand in greeting.

“Good day to you, my lords. We seek Ryerson House.”

He was a handsome man with a sun bronzed face and long golden hair tied up in a soldier’s topknot, but it was the warhorse flanking him that drew Enya’s eye.

The creature that stepped into the yard with haughty pride was blacker than the space between the stars.

He lifted his massive head to take in the bustle and ignored the wickers of the horses that called out in greeting.

It was the most magnificent horse Enya had ever seen.

Her gaze traveled up and snagged on his rider. For a moment, she forgot her reins altogether. It was a mistake. The horse beneath her suddenly flung himself about like a ship caught in a storm.

“Inside rein,” Del said quietly.

She tried again to pull his head up. Suddenly responsive where he’d been ignoring her only a moment before, the horse stopped short, making her teeth clack together.

“On what business?” Marwar growled. The hand that did not grip his staff rested casually on the hilt of the sword at his hip.

“One of our horses is lame. We were pointed here for a remedy, or perhaps a remount.”

“I am Renley Ryerson,” her father said, his attention split between her and the newcomers. “My stablemaster can take a look at the horse.”

Del reluctantly left her to meet the men that tromped into the yard. It was not unusual for men to seek out Ryerson House, but this party was different from the usual merchants and traders. One eye on her mount and one on them, Enya stole glances at their guests.

Despite his size, the man with the topknot was light of foot as he dismounted and introduced himself as Andril Turner.

Like two of his companions, he was broad of chest and shoulder, with the hardened look of a fighting man.

But an easy smile lit his blue eyes, eyes that seemed to see everything all at once.

It was the slighter man who looked to be of an age with her that brought forward the chestnut mare with a hitch in her step.

Brown hair brushed his collar, but with gray eyes that had a mischievous sparkle about them, she thought he could have been Liam’s cousin, if not brother. He named himself Aiden .

When she looked again at the man atop the black warhorse, her heart leapt into her throat.

Eyes the color of a cold mountain lake stared back at her.

His silver-gray hair, unlike any she’d ever seen, was cut short and swept back from his handsome, hard planed face. A face that unabashedly watched her.

He hung back with the last of the party, a dark and brooding man with a stare harder than an anvil.

Deep lines had been etched by the scowl he wore like armor, and his shoulder length black hair was giving way to white at the temples.

Where the others wore one at the hip, twin swords crossed above his shoulders, and Enya quickly looked away when his eyes roved over her, assessing.

Del was asking after the mare’s history as he watched Aiden lead her around the yard. He beckoned him over and ran his hands around her hind leg, lifting it to flex joints and inspect her hoof.

“Hard riding ahead of you?”

Andril Turner nodded.

“I’m afraid her days of hard riding are likely behind her.”

“We thought that might be the case,” he sighed. “In Westforks, it is said you have the finest stock in Estryia. Do you have a mount that might suit my nephew?”

Her father bowed his head graciously, but before he could answer, Enya dismounted in a hurry and offered up the bay colt for free.

She took a step back out of biting range and stared back at the silver haired man who still watched her intently.

He hadn’t given a name, and if he was bold enough to stare, she was almost bold enough to ask.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Marwar inch in her direction.

“Now daughter, we hardly know these gentlemen, and I wouldn’t wish that horse on my worst enemy,” he said lightly.

“And you let her ride it?” Aiden asked, adding a belated, “My lord.”

Her father laughed. “Better her than me. My daughter is one of the finest riders you’re like to find on the continent, stickier than bedstraw.”

Enya swelled with pride, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

“Let me introduce Enya, future of our humble house, that is if she ever chooses a husband.”

Enya felt as if she’d been thrown in the Ilbarran Ocean, raging winter whitecaps and all. Her face went crimson, but the expressions on the fighting men never waivered, other than Aiden’s. A broad lit his features and it was a grin that made Enya’s heart stutter again.

Oh, light .

“Pleasure, Miss Ryerson,” Andril said, inclining his head.

“Kez or Barrow for his height, don’t you think?” Her father asked the stablemaster.

“Do you prefer a younger, swifter mount, lad? Or something a with some seasoning?” Del asked.

“Younger,” Aiden answered, sadly scratching his mare behind the ears. Del left them to collect the horse he had in mind.

Her father nodded toward the warhorse. Renley Ryerson had not missed the fine stallion, but unlike Enya, who was still wishing she could vanish from the spot, he had managed not to gawk. Perhaps he would just think it was the horse that had captured her attention.

“That’s fine stock of your own. Might I ask where he’s from?”

Those depthless eyes that threatened to drown the unwary swiveled to her father. “Across the Saulet Sea.”

Enya’s eyes went wide. House Ryerson might breed the finest stock in all of Estryia, but the fabled creatures of the desert horse lords were something else entirely.

“I thought he might have the look of Zeskayra,” her father nodded. “What brings you to our humble corner of the world?”

“Work,” Andril said simply.

“And how do you find Westforks?”

“Pleasant.”

“Will you be staying long?”

“I’m afraid we’re on our way back to less pleasant country,” Andril answered.

Enya wondered where that was, or what business fighting men had here, but she tried to piece together the shreds of her dignity as she unsaddled the colt, waiting for Del to reemerge.

When he did, he led Kez, the pale gray gelding glistening in the sun.

Long of leg and filled with youthful vigor, the horse pranced toward them.

The boy mounted with an easy grace and steered around the yard, putting Kez through his paces and testing his cues. Despite his youth, he rode like a man who spent long days in the saddle, which Enya supposed he did, if his party had been to the Saulet Sea and back.

As she watched, she had the distinct feeling she too was being watched, her skin prickling at the sensation. She tucked away a strand of hair that a sudden breeze tugged from her braid, and when she glanced over her shoulder, those blue eyes were boring into her back. Her heart went skittering.

Oh, light.

She tried to wipe away the pink that crept into her face as Andril turned to her. The upward tick of a brow toward his companion indicated that he’d seen, and her blush deepened.

“That’s a fine young horse. Did you train him as well?”

Enya nodded, shooing away the ridiculous butterflies that battled around her middle. “He’s a quick study and will keep up with hard riding.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as the man asked, “Do I take the matter of silver up with the lady, then?”

She waved her hand to Del and her father. “The gentlemen look after the books.”

With a chuckle, Andril drew out a coin purse that clinked. He didn’t haggle over the price, and in the end, her father and Del agreed to look after the mare. She’d make a fine enough cross with Tyndar.

“What’s her name?” She asked Aiden.

“Sana.”

When she heard her father chuckle behind her, she braced for more embarrassment.

“We have something of our own Sana Silverbow around here.”

If Enya had a godsung gift at all, she would have wished for whatever talent would allow her to disappear on the spot.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be well looked after.” He gestured to the peaks that rose above the treetops. “Plenty of grass in the passes. Come back in a few years, and perhaps she’ll have a filly or colt on the ground for you then.”

Aiden perked up some at that and gave the mare a final pat. Andril started making polite farewells, but he froze when his silver haired companion spoke. “Is that your gift, then?”

His companions’ eyes snapped to her. Both Marwar and her father moved to place themselves between her and the visitors. Enya eyed them all warily.

“My daughter cannot wield,” her father said softly, his hand now resting on his sword hilt. The visitors made no move toward theirs.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

Enya stared up at him. “I’m good with a bow, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Just a father’s boating,” her father said quickly .

“It’s not.”

“How would you know?” Enya asked defiantly, glad her voice did not betray the somersaults her stomach was turning under the intensity of his stare.

“I can hear it,” the silver haired man said.

Andril’s brow furrowed and he studied Enya thoughtfully. Aiden cocked his head as if straining to hear something, but he shrugged. The dark eyed man only kept scowling.

“It is not illegal to possess an archer’s gift,” Marwar growled.

“No, but your king does love to hoard his treasures.” Enya swallowed. “We’re heading east, if you want an escort to sanctuary.”

A look passed between her father and his Master of Arms. Sanctuary was only granted to the gifted, and to seek sanctuary would be to doom the rest of her family. She was on the point of objecting, but Marwar growled, “What’s your name?”

His eyes slid to the vow mark etched on Marwar’s hand. “What’s yours?”

Andril cleared his throat. “What my companion means is-”

Enya wouldn’t learn what the silver haired man meant, for her father took a step closer to the warhorse and declared, “My daughter is safe here, though we appreciate your offer.”

A muscle ticked in the man’s jaw, but he gave a shrug and turned toward the gate. His companions followed, their looks ranging from bewildered to apologetic as some silent conversation passed between them.

Enya stood behind her father and Marwar, watching the party retreat to the Queen’s Road. He could hear it? What was that supposed to mean?

“Curious,” her father mused when they turned to the east.

“What is?” Enya asked, her heart still stuttering erratically.

“What four demi-elves are doing in Westforks.”

She blinked at their retreating backs, eyes wide. “You’re certain?”

It was Marwar who confirmed, finally taking his hand from his hilt after they disappeared from view.

“How do you know?”

“It’s the way they move,” her father said. “And that silver hair is not unusual amongst the elves.”

He cut her a sidelong look that said he knew she was not just gawking at the horse, and she fiddled with her gloves to avoid meeting his gaze.

She was glad Liam hadn’t seen it, or she’d never live it down.

Liam would, however, be inconsolable when he realized he’d been set to mending fences while men of legend stood in the yard.

With the northern elves cloistered behind their enchanted border in Oyamor, and Eastwood centuries gone, their kind was little more than myth in Estryia.

The intermingling of blood that gave rise to the demi-elves was long lost to history, and few still roamed the continent, doomed to never quite fit amongst elves or men.

If it were not for the sprouting of elven wielding gifts along the branches of mortal family trees, most wouldn’t have believed such unions had ever existed.

The godsongs were rare amongst men, and those who did manifest the ability to wield spirit, earth, air, fire, or water were swept up and collected by His Majesty.

Enya had never seen wielding done, but around summer campfires and winter hearths, stories were still told of those who could make earth erupt underfoot and call flame from thin air.

They told of elves who could command weather like the gods, order the crops to grow, and peer into the minds of men.

Her flesh pebbled as she thought of the eyes that had bored into her and her heart set off in another frantic gallop. Perhaps he had seen all the way to her soul if he’d been a spirit wielder. The thought was enough to make her shudder.

***

Liam positively oozed envy as she told him over the stones board that evening, asking her to describe every detail of their encounter, what they looked like, the swords they carried, and the horses they rode.

Enya sighed and did her best retelling, squinting at the memory, but her cheeks heated when she realized she’d paid so little heed to the other three men.

“Unnerving how?” Liam asked when she told him of the silver haired demi-elf.

“I don’t know, just...strange,” she snipped.

“Do you think they were wielders?” He asked, not for the first time.

She shrugged, and turned back to the game board. “They didn’t do anything. They hardly looked any different than normal men at all.”

Except that they were devastatingly handsome, even the scowling one, but she didn’t tell Liam that.

Enya didn’t know exactly what she expected from a demi-elf, but the men in the yard weren’t it.

The stories told of elven beauty and grace, always made them seem…

other . And the way he was looking at her…

“En?”

“Hmm?” She’d lost what he was saying.

“It’s your move.”