Chap. 298 Jordan

Chap. 298 Jordan

They were about to launch when his datalink went off.

“No, damn it, it’s a rest day, and I need to make a new harness,” he griped. He had to drag his pack off his back to dig the thing out. It wasn’t easy as he was already strapped in, ready to fly.

By then, of course, it had stopped.

“I hate this thing!” he shouted, resisting the urge to throw it.

Why do you carry it, then?

Because. Because I work for Landing and theoretically, am on call at all times

How do I see who called? There must be a way to check to see who called, he thought, but I am too stupid to remember how.

‘K’ndar of Landing. K’ndar of Landing’

He stabbed the icon with unneeded force. “K’ndar here. Who calls?”

The answer was an anguished sobbing. Is this a joke?

“Who calls? Is this some prank?”

“No, noooooo,” the rest an unintelligible garble. The voice, though, was that of his sister.

“Gly! Is this you? Are you alright?”

“No, I mean yes, but no,” he heard his sister gulping for breath. “It’s Jordan. Jordan’s dead.”

“What?” He felt a stab in his chest. Jordan? My horse?

“I can’t,” she said, crying,”I can’t, oh, can you come?”

“Gly. I’m on my way,” he said, his heart wrenching. “I’ll be there in a few moments.”

He pushed the dragonstone for the Weyr to Raventh.

Jordan is the horse?

Yes. We love him just as much as we love you.

I will be careful to launch so the harness doesn’t break.

Siskin tucked his feet under the collar and chirped. They launched.

__________________________________________________________

“It was his heart, K’ndar. He didn’t suffer.” Nyala, the Weyr’s Master Herdsman, knelt alongside the grey gelding.

Glyena was sobbing.

“I’d fed him his breakfast, then we let the horses out. I’d just finished mucking out the pen! I heard the other horses calling and ran out and Jordan was down!”

He put his arm around her. His eyes stung. She clutched him around the waist, seeking reassurance. She was his baby sister again, needing him. He pulled her close.

She clung to him, crying. He stroked her hair, only half noticing that she was taller every time he saw her.

I don’t know how to ease her pain. I don’t know if I can. For that matter, who can ease mine?

I am here. I feel your heart. You are hurting. Here is my heart for you. Raventh said, and he felt a wave of love that steadied his heart and mind.

Glyena knelt down next to Nyala and fell across the horse. Her tears fell on Jordan’s white coat, the drops turning a dark silver.

He knelt on the other side of the body, stroking the grey’s neck, twining his fingers in the silky mane. Images of their life together crowded into his mind. Oh, Jordan. I remember falling off of you and you never ran off, just stood there looking down at me. And I taught you tricks, and you were the most loyal, the most forgiving of horses. The time we were out on the steppe and I lost my bearings. You didn’t. You knew exactly how to get us home. And the time…

“I just rode him yesterday! He was fine. I didn’t make him gallop! Did I kill him?” Glyena wailed.

“No, of course, not, Glyena! No! He was just old. You couldn’t possibly have been the cause. It comes to us all, eventually,” Nyala protested, knowing exactly what the girl was feeling. We always blame ourselves. We are always ‘what if’ing’. What if I’d taken a listen to his heart?

He realized they were surrounded by other horses. Preternaturally subdued, they stayed back a respectful distance, watching, watching. He heard the flutter of soft nostrils.

Don’t tell me they don’t know, he thought.

He heaved a sigh, his chest hurting. “At least he went quickly. At least it wasn’t colic. Or founder.” It was small consolation.

At least you didn’t suffer, little horse. Oh, my Jordan.

“Would that we all go that quickly,” Nyala said. He met her eyes. She pulled a white horsehair choker from beneath her collar.

“You still wear it,” he said, his voice tight. He’d made it from a portion of the tail of her beloved palomino mare when the horse had to be put down. She couldn’t bear skinning and cutting up the mare, so he’d done it for her, with help from her barn hands. Once the butchering and skinning had been completed, he’d salvaged the tail for her.

I never dreamed it would result in turn about.

“Yes. I owe you,” she said, softly, her voice husky with emotion.

“It isn’t a debt,” he said, shaking his head. His voice cracked with sorrow.

“No. It is an honor.” Tears stung her eyes. This is the hardest part of loving animals. Yes, I loved you, too, Jordan.

She stroked the cheek of the horse.

Such a sweet horse you were. How many weyrkids have learned to ride on your back? How they laughed when you did the tricks he taught you! And Glyena, so willing to share you? I’ve had horses all my life, but few that were as memorable as you. Only my Msichana was closer to my heart.

“I’ll leave you to pay your respects” she said, an immense sadness in her eyes, “take your time.” She got to her feet. There was no hurry, now.

He dropped his head, the tears coming fast now. He nodded. She would have the body skinned, the body cut up for the meat. Nothing went to waste, not even a dead horse. Neither he nor Glyena would have to do it.

He raised his eyes to her.

“And the tail?” she said, softly.

“Please.”

_____________________________________________________________

They sat side by side on the beach, watching the combers collapse on the sand. Sea wherries and seabirds soared over the sun spangled water, hunting for fish. Such a lovely day, he thought, and such a sad one.

He held his sister close. She was cried out, her cheeks streaked with dried tears. She stared out to sea, lost in memories.

Siskin perched on his shoulder opposite Glyena. Raventh was just behind them.

I feel so old, all of a sudden, he thought, my little sister leaning on my heart. If this is how it feels to lose a horse I loved, what will it feel like when I lose Raventh? The thought almost tore his heart apart.

No. If and when it happens, it will be both of us. I will never leave you. You will never leave me.

Never.

Siskin chipped, so softly he felt it rather than heard it. He reached up to stroke the fire lizard. Even you, little blue?

Of course. He feels you, too. We are all here together.

He heard footsteps squelching in the sand. He twisted to see Shirae, Glyena’s foster mother, and her two foster girls. They were Glyena’s sisters in all but blood. They skirted around Raventh, nodding to him, and then joined them. They sat down, silently, respectfully. Shirae sat on Glyena’s free side and took her hand.

The sun glittered on the galloping white horse waves.