Elkwater's King
  | ID: 998876 (Rated: ASR)
Elkwater's King 
Two brothers follow a wary white German Shepherd to search for the King of a secret realm.
by Basilides   |
Chapter Thirteen: Why Foals Fall in Love
"There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man."
- Sir Winston Churchill
Aunt Eva expertly evaded our questions about the status of her search for Perry, but on the way to church that Sunday the interrogation from me and Michael was too focused for her to sidestep.
As we whined in the back seat of the Buick she turned to look at us and said, "There's not much hope of finding him, boys, and I don't want to get your hopes up. There's a very good chance Perry will remain a mystery. But I do have someone working on it. Right now that's all I can tell you."
"Why don't you just let the boys keep that dollar, Eva?" asked Uncle Martin as he drove. "When we bought this farm, the price included everything on the property. It's ours to give."
Uncle Martin: my hero.
But Aunt Eva's eyes widened in her best "I'm in charge of this classroom" look.
"That's not the point, Martin," she scolded. "The point is that a little boy lost or left behind some things that might be important to him, and we are trying to make it right."
Uncle Martin mumbled something unintelligible as we pulled into the church parking lot.
Foxton United Methodist Church was one of the landmarks of the town: a tall, imposing brick building under a white steeple pointing to the heavens. The parking lot was nearly full.
"Did they ever finish that addition?" Mike asked.
"Whelan Hall?" answered Aunt Eva. "Why, it's been done for two years. They must have been putting the finishing touches on it when you last visited. It's all decorated for the Bicentennial now."
Gazing out the window, I spotted Rev. Clark greeting people in the parking lot.
"Mike!" I exclaimed. "Duck! It's the minister!"
We both unbuckled and shrunk in the back seat so we couldn't be seen through the window.
"What's the matter with you boys?" asked Uncle Martin.
"He's going to ask us about our wives!" I said.
Aunt Eva smiled. "Wives? Is there something I don't know?"
"No!" Michael and I shouted together.
In the end, we had to run the gauntlet of Rev. Clark's teasing as we entered the church. Our fears were unfounded; he merely smiled at us and winked. Relieved, I reached for a program on the table just inside the foyer, but Aunt Eva snatched it out of my hand.
"I want you to pay attention to the service for once," she said. I was surprised and a little hurt. I never knew it was an issue before. At least she wouldn't let Michael have one either.
As we found our pew a heavy-set blue-haired old lady honed in on us.
"Oh there they are!" she said. "Are you boys excited that your--"
"The service will be a nice surprise for them," interrupted Aunt Eva, "a surprise we wouldn't want to ruin."
"Oh...oh," said the old lady. "Well, isn't it nice to see you in church?"
"Actually, we're Catholic," I said.
Her expression didn't change, but her eyes narrowed a little. "How nice," she said, and ran her hands all through my brother's curly hair before returning to her own seat.
"I hate that," moaned Michael.
"You shouldn't complain," I smirked. "It's the only thing you got going for you."
Mike's face got red. "Shut up!"
Uncle Martin leaned over. "Y'all behave," he drawled. "It's the house of God we're in."
I decided to save my comeback for later.
Classical piano music filled the air until the service began. There was a candle-lighting, some singing of a hymn I didn't know, a reciting of the creed...my mind began to wander. I looked at the other folks in the congregation. There were maybe two hundred people in the building. About half looked my aunt and uncle's age or older. I saw someone slip in through the back door and stand uncomfortably in the shadows.
It was old Ned.
"Uncle Martin!" I whispered, "Ned's here!"
"He is? That's a first," he answered. "Now pay heed to the Reverend."
I slumped in the pew. "In our Church mass would be over already," I muttered.
"For our offertory hymn," intoned Rev. Clark, "we have a special guest. One of our very own, visiting from out of town Some of you will be surprised" - here he looked directly at me and Michael - "but many of you will remember the angelic voice of Maxine McFadden."
I was confused. Someone forgot to tell the minister that my mom was in Florida this summer.
Michael, for his part, turned to Aunt Eva and Uncle Martin for guidance, open-mouthed.
"Jim picked Mickie up at the airport this morning," Aunt Eva whispered, her face beaming.
From the foyer, mom walked down the center aisle of the sanctuary. She was in a black dress with a gold sash. She turned to us and smiled wide as she took the microphone.
"Mom!" whispered my brother, sitting on the edge of his seat.
I was also full of excitement, but I also carefully examined her face and arms. For bruises, you know. I couldn't see any, so I started to relax.
The pianist began the hymn's introduction and my mom closed her eyes. When she began to sing, the sleepy sat up, the distracted turned intent, the weary became strong, the anxious knew peace, and the grieving glimpsed joy. Nobody sings like my mom. Not Streisand, not Midler - nobody.
'That's a lucky hymn,' I thought, 'to have her voice singing it.'
I love to tell the story
of unseen things above,
of Jesus and his glory,
of Jesus and his love.
I love to tell the story,
because I know 'tis true;
it satisfies my longings
as nothing else can do.
I love to tell the story,
'twill be my theme in glory,
to tell the old, old story
of Jesus and his love.
I love to tell the story;
more wonderful it seems
than all the golden fancies
of all our golden dreams.
I love to tell the story,
it did so much for me;
and that is just the reason
I tell it now to thee.
I love to tell the story;
'tis pleasant to repeat
what seems, each time I tell it,
more wonderfully sweet.
I love to tell the story,
for some have never heard
the message of salvation
from God's own holy Word.
I love to tell the story,
'twill be my theme in glory,
to tell the old, old story
of Jesus and his love.
I love to tell the story,
for those who know it best
seem hungering and thirsting
to hear it like the rest.
And when, in scenes of glory,
I sing the new, new song,
'twill be the old, old story
that I have loved so long.
She finished, and the congregation erupted in applause. The ushers, transfixed by the melody, startled simultaneously. They had forgotten to collect the offering. Belatedly, they set about their mission.
I glanced back to old Ned. He was alternately wiping his face and covering it with his hands. He caught sight of me staring at him, and he slipped out the back door.
Strange old man.
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The pianist started having trouble because the piano began to sound more like a guitar. Or...or...a minguilin. I opened my eyes, annoyed. Why did Kwotik have to play that darn thing right outside my door?
As if reading my mind, the door swung open. Kwotik still plucked away as he said, "Wake up sleepy head. Breakfast is almost over."
"Go away," I groaned, and pulled my teal-and orange blanket over my head, causing my freshly pressed teal-and-orange highlighted clothing to fall to the floor. Yes, these Ibn-Warnans had thought of everything.
"I'll send Carrigan in," warned Kwotik.
I closed my eyes. For two days I'd been subjected to the torture of learning the written language of Tuntuq-Teague, the histories, geography, and customs. I also got a chance to practice weapons use and horseback riding, though, which was fun but tiring. The upshot of the whole experience was that the end of the day left me exhausted mentally and physically. For these people to insist on my getting up before the sun under such conditions was close to child abuse.
Sure, Kwotik seemed to be having the time of his life. "These dark-skinned people are amazing," he confided to me one day. "Sure, they are barbarians like everyone else in this backwards place - but they are as close to civilized as I've seen in this hemisphere. Not that Ibn-Warna holds a candle to Hollenwain, mind you, but their stories and traditions go back a long, long way. And their craftsmen are legendary. I'm having a couple of special flutes made. Er, I borrowed a little money from you to make that happen. You don't mind, do you? Good. Maybe I'll teach you to play. Not this nonsense music here, of course - I'll teach you some real Kindred Lands tunes."
I began drifting off to sleep. Kwotik could keep his tunes, I had no desire to learn anything else.
Suddenly, small but strong hands gripped my ankles and pulled me out of the bed and to the floor. My head hit the wood and spun as a consequence. I looked up to see the small form of Carrigan laughing at me with arms folded. I fought the fury rising up in me. It's bad enough to be pulled out of bed that way, but I was also reminded of that time at Pepperwood Manor when I was roughly awakened and taken to all the nearby homes to confess my crimes.
I got my sword out of its scabbard and got back in bed, holding the blade above me.
"Try that again," I spat at the evil girl-child.
"Ooooo, you look scary lying there in your orange and puke-colored blankie with a sword waving in the air," she laughed. "I'm terrified. Come on, get up."
"No," I said.
Things between Carrigan and me had only gotten worse. For one thing, she made fast friends with Michael and took his side in every argument. Second, Mike was having more success than me at the javelin and swordplay, and Carrigan never lost an opportunity to praise him and disparage me. Worst of all, she seemed immune to my insults. So this morning, I resolved to fight dirty.
"Why should I listen to you?" I sneered. "You aren't even a real member of this family. Your name doesn't even fit in here. What happened? Your real parents didn't want you and so Alexander and Krina took you in out of pity?"
To my dismay, Carrigan just laughed. "I'm a Trustling, you little fumet. Ever hear of that? My mom and dad thought I looked a little Finian, so they gave me a name common in Turrikdowse. Alexander and Krina are my real parents. I came to them by miracle rather than by the normal method. "
She had me off-balance suddenly. The whole "normal method" of having kids was a little fuzzy to me. Well, a lot fuzzy.
"You do know how babies are made, don't you O Wise Kingfinder?"
"Of course I do!" I lied, "But I'm not getting out of bed."
"Fine," said Carrigan ever-so-sweetly. "I'll just have the Dibia wake you."
I shot up out of bed. She had won again. The Dibia was something like the holy man of Ibn-Warna. They said he was in his late twenties, but he looked ageless to me. He towered over everyone else in the village - even Alexander - and tended to pop up when I least expected him, examining me with his searching eyes and making his mysterious hand-signals. He was deaf, but seemed to know what everyone was thinking. He was nice enough in an aloof sort of way, but he gave me the creeps. Just the bulging muscles alone were enough to intimidate me, but the rumor of supernatural power made him decidedly uncanny. Kwotik assured me he was probably just a wild mage of some sort, the kind that would be put to death or magically castrated (whatever that was) in any civilized country, but that didn't make me feel better. No way was he coming to wake me up.
"I thought that might work," sang Carrigan as she left the room. I threw my belt at the closed door behind her.
I got to the breakfast table just as mike was leaving. He looked a little sullen, and I surmised why. After all, we were having the same dreams.
"Mom looked great at church, didn't she?" I asked.
"I woke up before she started to sing," he complained.
"Too bad," I said in a calm voice, "but hey, early bird gets the worm and all that, right?"
He didn't answer.
The day was worse than usual. I couldn't concentrate on anything. I kept trying to figure some way to get Carrigan upset, but nothing dastardly enough came to mind. Fortunately Michael seemed to be having his own problems. When Hanib, our instructor for the day, tried to drill us on the fauna of Elkwater, Michael kept interrupting with questions about the Eels. Hanib answered a few, but finally his patience wore out.
"Listen, young Kingfinder, if you are so interested in Eels then ask old Andrus about them tonight after dinner - if you can catch him awake. He knows more about the Eels than anyone else. Now, the habitat of the Ridge Mouse..."
Later, in the practice field, my golden opportunity came after all.
I was doing my best to practice with a bow and arrow (without much success) and Mike was off about thirty yards impressing Carrigan with his spear throwing. After an hour or so they both walked up to me.
"Can you use some help?" asked Carrigan, not unkindly. Right.
"Thanks, no," I answered. "You should stick with helping Mike. He's not very athletic with all that extra weight."
"Jerk!" shouted Mike.
"What extra weight?" asked Carrigan. "And in truth, he's almost as good as I am at the spear and I've been practicing all my life. I've heard Kingfinders could do that, something about the magic of the stile. But it's amazing to see."
Oh the injustice of it all.
"Actually, he lost his stile you know. He's just along for the ride."
"Shut up, Tim!" shouted Michael. "That's not true and you know it!"
"Mike, hey, let's face it: without your stile, what can you do? You are a charity case. You sure aren't going to be finding any kings. You're dead weight, that's all."
Michael threw his spears down to the ground in a clatter.
"Watch the equipment!" exclaimed Carrigan. She kept looking from one of us to another. "Tim, leave your brother alone. I know what you are doing, so cut it out."
"I'm sorry, Carrigan," I said. "I really apologize for his sake. Mom thinks he should be on medication to control his temper--oops! That was supposed to be a secret."
"That's not true!" Michael screamed as he launched himself at me.
He came at me pretty quickly, faster than I was expecting! But I managed to sidestep him and trip him up as he passed. On the way to the ground I caught the back of his head with my fist. It was beautiful. I pulled back my leg to give him a good kick as a finale, but just then something hit the back of my knee and I fell to the grass.
"Kick a man when he's down, will you?" shouted Carrigan, her hands spread out and her body low to the ground in a Stream-fighting pose.
I got up. I'd finally gotten to Carrigan, but I was in a bit of a predicament.
"I don't fight girls," I said in the most patronizing tone I could muster.
If I thought Carrigan was riled up before, I realized then I hadn't seen anything. Her fair skin turned purple and she began to circle me.
"You don't fight girls? Too good for them? Well that's just fine for me - it makes you an easy target!"
Before I knew what was happening she clawed at the ground and threw a fistful of sand in my face, blinding me. And then something very hard hit my stomach, taking my breath away. something even harder then smacked me across the face.
I lay on the ground for a few minutes until my breath came back. Still wiping sand from my eyes, I shakily got to my feet.
"Fight back," Carrigan growled, still in the Stream-set.
"No," I said.
Somehow, the heel of her foot came swinging around to the level of my jaw and made contact, knocking me to the ground again.
I got up again.
"Fight!" Carrigan yelled.
"I can't!" I shouted. I wanted to. I wanted to hit her.
Carrigan came at me with abandon, a flurry of fists and kicks, while repeating the mantra, "Fight me fight me fight me." I just stumbled backwards under the barrage.
"Carrigan! That's enough!" yelled my brother. My face burned with the shame of his trying to rescue me.
I backed into a tree and Carrigan hit me again in the gut. I doubled over.
"Fight back, you wretched excuse for a life!" Carrigan shouted.
I couldn't speak so I just shook my head 'no'.
Her knee came up to make solid contact with my nose. Blood ran everywhere. And it hurt. It hurt like getting stung by that black bee.
I fell to the ground. Michael was nowhere to be seen.
"Get up," Carrigan whispered.
"No. I don't fight girls," I gasped.
She kicked me in the upper leg.
"You will today. Get up."
She kicked me in the small of my back. That did it. I started to cry.
"Oh what happened to the big tough man who won't fight girls? Huh? Where did he go?"
Carrigan began to kick dirt in my face.
Suddenly the air was filled with grownup voices. The kicking stopped. I looked up through my tears and saw Krina and Alexander scolding Carrigan as she stood there defiantly, arms folded.
Kwotik helped me up. "What's your problem, fighting with the locals?" he asked, brushing off my clothes.
I sobbed.
"He kicked his brother on the ground!" yelled Carrigan loudly enough for all to hear. "When I came to Kingfinder Mike's defense, this little snot refused to fight me on the grounds that I'm a girl. He's a woman-hater! He got what he deserved!"
"No excuse!" boomed Alexander, "And no more talking back! These are our guests! You are confined to your room for a month!"
Carrigan trembled in fury but held her tongue.
"Hey kid, she's got a point," mused the Bard, "not fighting her because she's a girl is pretty insulting. Plus, you gotta be able to defend yourself if attacked, no matter the person's gender."
"Not trying to insult," I managed, which was half-true.
Carrigan's head snapped in my direction.
"Then why didn't you fight her?" asked Kwotik.
"Because..." This was embarrassing in front of all these people. "Because of mom," I said.
Everyone was silent. Mike started to get teary-eyed.
"I see her hurt too much," I said, "And I promised her I'd never hit a girl."
Carrigan's jaw dropped and the color went out of her face. Her parents looked at her pointedly.
I remembered my mom's face as she looked into my eyes. She had stopped tending to the bruise on her arm. 'I expect you to keep that promise, Tim'.
"I'm sorry," I said to Kwotik, and for once I really meant it. I hurt pretty bad.
I should have explained to Carrigan instead of baiting her. The beating had taken the anger and resentment out of me. I didn't want any enemies at the moment. I sat up and intended to apologize to her too, but she was already gone. I could dimly see her running home, running to her punishment.
**********************************************************************************************************
The next couple of days were made simple schoolwork seem like an amusement park. I didn't have any broken bones, but I was a bruised and battered mess. I got a long lecture from Kwotik about self-defense; I got a long lecture from Alexander about stirring up my brother; and I got a long lecture from Krina about respecting women. Plus my studies continued - the teachers had no mercy on my condition. I just sat in bed instead of at a desk, in my room instead of the Learning Hall.
Cloud-Warrior was the best during this time. He didn't scold me or hold me accountable. He just slipped into my room at the end of the day and slept on the floor at the end of my bed.
The third night I looked at him with his one ear and half-a-tail and felt a surge of friendship.
"Vis Cloud-Warrior?" I asked.
"What is it, Sneaky-Bull?"
"I'm sorry about all the trouble."
"It would simply be inconvenient if you died at this time," growled the Knight. "Now go to sleep."
That got me thinking. I had his attention, and it occurred to me I might never again get to ask a dog the sorts of things one would like to ask a dog. I decided to start with the big one.
"Excuse me Cloud-Warrior."
"What?" he snapped.
"Well, speaking of death...you know, when humans die, we expect we will go to heaven. Or maybe hell. But what do you think happens to dogs? Do you go to heaven too, or somewhere else? Or...or do you just die?"
Cloud-Warrior got up and walked around to the side of the bed. He faced me and his eyes glowed with an unnatural reddish color. He bared his teeth.
"Listen to me, human. You and your kind have been masters of my kind to the fullest extent from the dawn of time. It was not enough that we were your companions and guardians. No, you made us to be your hunters, your weapons, your eyes and ears, your entertainment, your experiments, and sometimes even your food. To this we have bowed. But then you meddled with our life strings and turned some of us into giants but others into mere toys. From the first noble dogs you have twisted and perverted us into the most ridiculous shapes and forms. Still, we bow to your commands. But now you want to know the deepest secret of our hearts, the one bit of ourselves you have no mastery over? Here is your answer, then, Master Human: it is none of your business!"
Cloud-Warrior left my room, and also stopped visiting. I had to remind myself he was just an animal. You never know what might set him off.
The next day they made me leave my room, and classes resumed as normal. Every muscle in my body was still sore, so they cut me a little slack at weapons' practice. Michael wasn't especially annoying but he seemed distant, as if something were on his mind. As if he actually had a mind. I couldn't care less.
That night I was especially glad to go to bed early. Imagine my irritation when I was awakened in the middle of the night. Imagine my aggravation when I saw who woke me.
Carrigan.
But she was not dressed for sleep. She had on traveling clothes of some kind. Her hair was braided in one long braid, then that braid was looped loosely around her throat and tied again. It reminded me of the King's torc, only it was blonde.
I shuddered at the image.
"What do you want?" I said.
"Shhhh!" she whispered. "I'm leaving to go on a hunt, and I'm giving you the chance to come with me."
"In the middle of the night?" I asked.
"Yep."
"Hey," I said, sleep drifting away from me, "aren't you supposed to be confined to your room?"
"Yep."
"I don't want to get into trouble," I said.
"Listen, I'm the one who is going to get in trouble: first, for breaking my confinement, and second for taking you along. You'll be out of here in a couple of days anyway. This will give you the chance to get out of school and do something fun."
"I'll get out of school tomorrow?" I asked. This hunting business was starting to look attractive.
"At least. Probably for two days. Oh never mind! I'll just ask your brother instead." Carrigan turned to go.
"Not so fast!" I whispered. "What stuff do I need?"
Carrigan chuckled. "I've left everything outside. Put this outfit on, though. Forget those crazy colors for once. You can't hunt for anything in orange and blagh."
"It's teal," I said.
"Whatever. Hurry up and change." Carrigan stared at me impatiently.
"Um," I said.
"What's the matter now?" The huntress was getting impatient.
"Could you look away?" I asked.
"Oh for the love of Carthalo!" Carrigan said, and spun around, murmuring under her breath.
To distract her while I donned the unfamiliar clothing, I asked, "So what kinds of animals are we going to hunt?"
"We are hunting only one animal - one particular member of the species in fact," Carrigan said gravely. "I smelled him afar off this evening from my room. His mistake for wandering too near the villages. Tonight we hunt Yabando."
"What's that?" I had a bad feeling about that name.
"I'll explain on the way," she said. "We've got to get some miles between us and Ibn-Warna before sunrise, so we can lose the trail of those who will surely be hunting us!"
Following Carrigan out of the village in the middle of the night was a challenge. Even with a pack on her back and a bundle of spears over one shoulder, she darted from one patch of Tiger Lilies to another like a fox. It was hard to keep up with her. She crouched low, a dark hooded cloak covering her golden hair, and she didn't stop to speak until we were well past Ibn Warna and the farms to the south. We had been sneaking through the night for about three hours when we came upon a creek winding through a wide, grassy area.
"Stop for a minute," she whispered. "Get something to drink from the stream. I don't want to stop for about four more hours."
I drained my waterskin and refilled it in the stream. "So why exactly are we doing this again?"
"Why are we hunting? I dunno - why do you breathe? Why does your heart beat?" Carrigan asked this as she examined the far bank of the stream.
"Whatever. But what is a Yabando?" I asked. "You promised to explain."
"Yabando isn't a what, it's a whom," answered the huntress. "He's a large and vicious wild boar who has been terrorizing the Eighth Verse for years. I sense him when he comes too close to the village. We've been following his trail."
"I haven't sen any signs of him," I said.
"That's because you are a moron," explained Carrigan. "I hope you can find a King better than you can hunt. You also are leaving a trail of your own so obvious even my sister could follow it. We are going to have to do something unexpected."
Carrigan closed her eyes in thought, then began speaking half to herself. "Yamando's tracks head due south, which means he is making for the northern edge of the wood. But he didn't get what he came here for. He barely dug up any fresh roots before something spooked him. He'll be frustrated and hungry, maybe even willing to risk foraging somewhere even more dangerous than Ibn Warna, but sure to reward with sweet unspoilt roots and truffles."
She stood up straight and pointed. "We go that way," she said, pointing north and west along the stream.
I chuckled. "Isn't that the opposite direction you said the big boar was going?"
"Yes, but our pursuers will figure out we are chasing him, and they will assume we went in the direction of his tracks. As a matter of fact we will follow them a little way so they won't get suspicious. Then we need to backtrack and walk along the middle of the stream until we get closer to the Candayar River Ravine."
I shook my head. It made no sense. Were we the hunters or the quarry? "OK, that'll shake off our friends, maybe, but how are you going to find Yamando again?"
"I think I know where he is going," said Carrigan with a flash of white teeth.
"Whatever," I murmured. The excitement of the hunt was beginning to wear off, and I was tired. I kind of wished I'd just stayed in bed.
We followed the tracks for about fifteen minutes before backtracking to the stream, then following it northwest. For a little while it was pleasant and cool, and I enjoyed the refreshing water swirling around my tired legs. But walking upstream in knee-deep water isn't easy, and after an hour my calves were burning with fatigue. What's worse, we had entered a swampy area and the mosquitoes were out in force. Every few seconds I felt a sting or heard that horrible buzzing in one of my ears.
"Carrigan, my legs are killing me and I'm not sure how much more blood I can lose to these mosquitoes."
Surprisingly, she was sympathetic. "Yeah, the bugs are awful. Sorry about that. I should have brought some bearfat but I didn't think of it. In another hour or so we should be at the Muggins, a rocky place where we can leave the stream without leaving footprints. There won't be so many mosquitoes there. Plus by then the sun will be coming up. Cheer up!"
I guess I didn't have it so bad. Carrigan still carried that bundle of spears, plus she had a pack heavier than mine and a bow and quiver to boot. I just had my pack, a hunting knife I'd brought along, and my sword in its sheath across my back. I grit my teeth. If Carrigan could go on for another hour, so could I.
The stream narrowed and the banks got steeper as we left the marshy area and, as promised, entered more rocky terrain. The darkness of night (as dark as it gets with two moons in the sky) wasn't so dark any more as the early dawn announced the coming of the sun. At Carrigan's signal we left the stream and clambered up some boulders where we could see for miles as the light grew.
The rocky ground turned to grassy plains only a few miles to the south, and far beyond that a treeline was barely visible.
"We are heading to the plains beyond the Muggins, and from there we will make our way to the Candayar River. If my guess is right we should eventually get some sign of Yamando there." Carrigan looked over to me. "Are you all right?"
"When do we eat?" I asked.
Carrigan shrugged. "I snagged a couple of fish while we were in the stream, so we'll eat those in a minute."
"You were fishing while we walked?" I was incredulous.
"Sort of . I just grabbed 'em. You didn't hear me?"
"That splashing around? I just thought you lost your balance or something."
Carrigan gave me an evil look. "Not likely. Anyway, we can't risk a fire so we'll have to eat them raw."
"Raw?"
Carrigan rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you've never eaten a raw fish before!"
"I - I've had raw oysters."
"There you go," said the not-so-girly-girl. "Raw fish is much less gross than raw oysters."
So we had raw fish for breakfast. It wasn't as bad as you would think. But we couldn;t wash the sticky mess off our fingers without going back to the stream, and Carrigan didn't want to take the time. So after a few hours we really began to stink. Any thought of more raw fish at that point was unacceptable.
Just before the Muggins ended and the plains began we found a little pond where we could wash our hands and drink moderately fresh water. That's where Carrigan spotted something and smiled.
"Come with me," she whispered.
She kept her eyes on the ground again, though what she may have seen was beyond me. The ground just looked rocky, with patches of grass here and there. But whatever Carrigan saw quickened her pace and gave her a renewed energy. She glided across the uneven terrain as if she were skiing over snow, barely noticing that I was falling behind. Eventually she crouched next to a boulder and motioned for me to hurry, then put a finger to her lips. She winced every time I kicked a stone or stepped on a stick. I wished she's make up her mind what she wanted: quiet or quick.
When I finally made it to the boulder, Carrigan put her lips to my ear and whispered, "Very slowly peek around the boulder."
I did so, and saw what Carrigan was so excited about.
A monstrous pig-like creature with tusks as long as my forearm snuffled at the dirt, and it was surrounded by four piglets imitating their mom. I swallowed. The boar was the size of a Shetland pony.
"Looks like Yamando is a 'she', not a 'he'", I whispered to Carrigan in what I thought was a brave manner.
"What are you talking about?" she shot back. "That's not Yamando. This sow is puny in comparison. You think I'd waste my time hunting a runt like that? Yamando is several times her size."
As the gravity of Carrigan's words sunk in, I began to feel a weakness in the knees and a fullness of the bladder. I was terrified of this "runt", but I was hunting something several times her size? No. No no no.
"One of those little squealers would make a good lunch, though, wouldn't it?" asked Carrigan, licking her lips. I felt dizzy.
"Wouldn't that make the mama mad?" I asked.
"Ah, she's got three more," said Carrigan as she quietly unburdened herself and took hold of her bow. "I'd go for the sow but it is impractical to bring all that meat back home from here."
Hope kindled. "In that case, how do you expect to bring Yamando's meat back home?" I asked, hoping she'd be reasonable and call off the hunt.
Carrigan spit at the ground. "All I want is one bite out of that bastard's heart. The vultures or the heyotes can have the rest for all I care."
As Carrigan notched an arrow it occurred to me that she might be insane.
Suddenly, a horrible sound erupted from behind us, and I turned just in time to see a boar nearly as big as the sow on the other side of the rock bearing down on us full steam. Carrigan and I darted to one side and the boar missed, just brushing my thigh with its coarse bristles. Forward momentum carried him another thirty feet before he managed to brake and turn around, ready for another pass. A horrible squeal/groan erupted from him.
"Quick! Climb up the boulder!" shouted Carrigan. She scrambled up the rock like it was a set of monkey bars, but I couldn't find a foothold at all.
"Tim!" Carrigan shouted from above.
I turned to see the boar bearing down on me. I had just enough time to draw my sword.
The piggy wasn't intimidated.
This time the boar slowed to a trot so he wouldn't miss, so I had a chance at a good swing at the creature's head. I chopped off his left tusk, which only managed to infuriate him. He lunged at me low and caught be right below the knee with his right tusk. I screamed and fell backward as the fuming mountain of muscle and hair towered over me, ready to finish the job. Impotently, I swung my sword in in the air.
In an instant, there was a long piece of wood sticking out of the huge boar's right eye. He paused, as if considering this new turn of events, and then he went nuts. He let out an outrageous scream and thrust his face to the ground, trying to dislodge the offending arrow. I scrambled backwards and got up, trying to put the boulder between me and my adversary. I checked to make sure the sow wasn't coming up to surprise me like her mate did, but she and the piglets were nowhere to be seen.
The he-boar rolled on the ground a few times, during which a new arrow protruded from his formidable neck. I glanced to the top of the boulder to see Carrigan slinging the bow back across her shoulder and leaping lightly to the ground. She recovered her bundle of spears and casually began heading to the distressed boar. Paying little heed to his tormentor, the boar sped off to the west, perhaps trying to outrun his agony.
Carrigan glanced back at me. "I'll be right back," she said, and jogged off in pursuit of the boar.
Now that I wasn't under pressure, I found a way to climb up to the top of the boulder, painfully because of the wound in my leg, and from there I could see the confrontation between Carrigan and the monster. The boar had made it to a wide, grassy area when it decided to turn around and make a run at its pursuer. He built up a to a frantic speed while Carrigan casually held one spear aloft, the other four still resting on her shoulder. When the one-tusked wonder was maybe thirty feet away, Carrigan hurled one spear at him, then let another roll down her arm and into her palm as she hurled it also in almost a single motion. In this way four spears left her grasp in quick succession, each finding their mark, burying themselves into his hairy chest or shoulders. One of them must have pierced his heart because he was dead the last ten feet or so, his huge body coming to rest just inches away from Carrigan's dainty legs. She dropped her last spear and withdrew a large hunting knife. With a cry she lifted it high and brought it down expertly to sever the boar's spinal cord at the neck.
She looked in my direction, and seeing me on top of the boulder waved cheerfully.
Weakly, I waved back. I was still a little sore from the beating this girl gave me a few days ago. "I know how you feel, buddy," I whispered to the boar, or to his spirit I guess.
My leg really hurt now that the excitement was over, so I rummaged through out packs to find some medicine and bandage it up. There was a deep gash on my shin and a little into my calf, and I even thought I could see the white of my bone.
I was still struggling with the bandage when Carrigan returned in about an hour, blood all over her. She plopped two strips of meat on a stone and bent to look at my mess of a wound.
"Don't waste any more medicine or bandages," she said. I'm going to get cleaned up and then I'll attend to it properly. It doesn't look too bad. With any luck you won't slow us down too much."
Then she met my worried gaze with a smile. "When we actually face Yamando, promise me you won't try to kill him with your silly sword, ok?"
Carrigan reached to pick something white off the ground and tossed it in my direction. "Here, a souvenir!" she quipped, and left me alone again.
The tusk, about six inches of it. Cool.
Yamando. Several times that size. Not cool.
Carrigan returned all damp but quite clean. She'd even managed to get some of the grime off her clothes. She wiped away all my attempts at first aid with a wet cloth and then cleaned the wound with some mix of herbs and cream. It hurt.
"Well, I dressed the he-board as well as I could," she explained as she caused great pain to my leg. "I wrapped as much as I could in a meat-sack and hung it from a tree nearby. Hopefully it will still be there when we get back and I send someone to retrieve it. Hold still, will you? You don't want an infection! Anyway, I hung up about 30 pounds of the best meat. Scavengers will just have to get the rest. A shame, really. But here's two nice loin strips for dinner. I'm afraid we can't hang around for lunch. We've already lost too much time. I figure we maybe have a day before my father or the Dibia finds us, and I want to be at the edge of the Candayar before then."
"Ow!" I shouted, as she dug into my wound.
"Such a man," Carrigan laughed. "OK now we can put some healing cream on it, and I'll wrap it up. Just favor that leg for a while and use this spear as a kind of crutch. You shouldn't slow us down much."
Mercilessly, Carrigan made me move as soon as she finished binding me up. Fortunately, the grassy plain was a lot easier going than the rocky Muggins. But I'd really had enough hunting for one life, and I was less than enthusiastic about meeting our real quarry, so I wasn't in any hurry. Carrigan was obviously impatient at the slow pace, but pretended not to be. She even gave me some cheese and stale bread to munch on at one point, an emergency stash of food she'd neglected to mention before.
Dark clouds began to form on the horizon, and as the sun drew low to the horizon Carrigan led us to a rocky outgrowth. She examined it closely for signs of wolves or heyotes before she proclaimed it suitable, and I found a soft shady spot that at that point suited me as well as a luxury hotel bedroom.
Carrigan hopped down from the top of the rocks. "No sign of pursuit yet, but I'll still wait for dark to light a fire. The light should be hidden behind that big stone slab, and no one will see the smoke. I hope. Anyway we are nearly there. The river is just a few hundred yards away, and I want you to get some sleep before we see if Yamando is around."
I heard thunder coming from the south.
"You think its going to rain?" I asked.
"Actually, it looks like it is really building up nicely, yes. Maybe it will be just a quick shower. In any case, these rocks should provide adequate shelter."
I thought about my mission. "You...you don't think it is the Tempest of the Torc, do you?"
"Nah, we get storms from over the plains this time of year. Don't worry about it." Carrigan eyed me curiously.
I took out my sword and checked to see if the boar's tusk had notched it. It looked sharp and fine as ever.
"Olothreustes," said Carrigan.
Blood rushed to my face. "What did you say?"
"I said 'Olothreustes'. That's what it says on your sword, doesn't it?"
"How the heck do you know?" I asked.
Carrigan laughed. "Everybody knows. But nobody knows what it means because Erm. Phos won't tell. Maybe he's told the King by now. I don't know."
I grunted.
"But," she drawled, leaning on the ground on one arm and picking up a grass stem, "I know what it means."
"Yeah right," I said, knowing that was impossible. Only me and the Earth Mage knew.
"It means 'Destroying Serpent'," said Carrigan.
The blood rushed out of my face. I stared at her.
"Your brother told me," she said, "but it was like pulling teeth to get it out of him."
"M-Mike?" I asked. How did he know?
"Sure. He understands every language like you do, right? Well, when Erm. Phos spoke the word, he understood it. Didn't that occur to you?"
I felt dizzy. Mike knew all this time. But he'd never brought it up.
"Your brother looks up to you, you know," said Carrigan.
"That makes sense, because I look down on him," I said.
The thunder drew nearer. Insects were making loud noises. The sky was nearly dark. I glanced to the west and saw the sky painted in earth tones behind a large acacia tree. A cool wind materialized from the south, swirling around the rocks.
"So are you going to be the death of Elkwater, O Destroying Serpent?" asked Carrigan, smiling.
"How am I supposed to know?" I asked. "I'm just a kid. And really, I'm tired of this and want to go home."
"To your mom?" Carrigan asked, and I shot a look at her. But she wasn't smiling any more.
"Michael is the Momma's boy," I said.
"There are a lot of moms in Elkwater, Tim. You wouldn't hurt them, would you?"
The conversation was getting really annoying. "Of course not!" I said. "I don't want to hurt anybody. You're the killer! I watched what you did to that boar!"
"I've never killed a man," Carrigan whispered. Lightning streaked across the sky.
And it all came back to me in a rush: the fight in the streets of Kurmanta, the feel of my sword going through Jaris' body, the scream, the pleading.
I dropped my sword and got up, hobbling to the far side of the rocks. I started crying, my forehead pressed to the stone, the wind at my back and thunder pealing all around me.
Carrigan came up behind me. I glanced at her and saw that she held my sword in front of her in a classic River-fighting pose. I spun around and pressed myself to the stone.
"What are you doing?" I shouted, my tears turning to panic.
"I took you out here to kill you," said Carrigan. "I'd planned this even before you and your brother arrived, having heard how you lied and cheated your way to becoming a Kingfinder. I couldn't believe no one else had the guts to do it. I asked my dad why you weren't disposed of and first he said That's just not how we do things in Elkwater, and then he said, He is just a child, my daughter. Both foolish answers, if you ask me. And when your brother told me what is written on your sword, I made up my mind to do something. There's too much at stake here for an evil person to find the King. I could have killed you when you said you would not fight a girl. Maybe I should have. But I've never killed anyone...and then...and then you said that about your mom. I was confused. I knew you were not lying. I knew there was something good in you, despite appearances.
"So I prayed to Shozer to help me know what to do. I prayed for a sign. I'm not usually big on prayer but I was desperate. That's when I sensed Yamando near, and my plan to take you out hunting seemed to have divine approval. I knew I would have to sneak you out in the middle of the night. I was guarded, of course. You see, after asking my father why you hadn't been killed and after I kicked you around the other day, people suspected I might try to kill you. I put something in my guards' soup. You were guarded too. I knocked poor Ab-nori in the back of the head. I hope he is ok. That's why I am so sure we are being pursued. They may catch us as early as tomorrow.
"So here we are. I could have killed you in your sleep in your room, but that didn't seem to match the sign I was given. I felt I was supposed to take you out here, while hunting Yamando. But I can kill you now. You are swordless, defenseless. It is as if Shozer has handed you right to me. I can bring back your stile to Mike, and Elkwater will be saved. My life will be over, but the Destroying Serpent will be defeated."
I just stared at her, open-mouthed. Carrigan was going to kill me?
"Um," said Carrigan, "This is the part where you say something."
I thought about the Farm. Aunt Eva said I could help her in the garden tomorrow, at least that's what she said before Carrigan woke me up out of a dead sleep. We'd run out of decent cereal, though. Maybe Aunt Eva could make us waffles in the morning.
"Will I go home?" I asked.
"What?"
"Will I go home - or to the Farm, I mean? If you kill me? Aunt Eva said I could help her in the garden tomorrow. Some of the red tomatoes are ready to pick. And maybe some green peppers. You can kill me, if it sends me home. That would be ok."
Carrigan met my gaze with level determination. The point of my sword was inches from my left eye. I closed my eyes.
It started to rain. In buckets.
I opened my eyes. Carrigan stood as if in a daze, my sword held loosely at her side. She shook her head and dropped it to the ground.
"Too late to build a fire now," she said, and walked back to the shelter of the rocks.
***************************************
For the second night in a row, a girl woke me up while it was still dark.
"Just let me sleep!" I groaned, and turned over. The rain was still coming down, though I'd managed to find a relatively dry spot, sheltered by the rocks, to sleep on. A flash of lightning illuminated the walls. And kept on illuminating it.
Hm. That wasn't lightning.
I sat up and looked around. An auburn-haired girl, beautiful, freckled, stared back at me from the rock.
Ari.
"How did you get here?" I asked.
"I am not here," she sweetly answered. Her voice was so sweet with a hint of a strange and exotic accent. "I am projected here by magic, using the Grohnin as a medium. I have lulled the Lady to sleep. When she awakens, she will be angry indeed."
"Wow," I said. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."
"Never, dear Tim. I have been active on your behalf, making certain contacts and arrangements. But I need to ask you: what are you doing?"
"Huh?" I asked, intelligently.
"What are you doing in the wilderness with a daughter of a minor functionary?" Ari's eyes seemed a bit darker than usual.
"I'm...well, I thought I was out here to go hunting. But really, Carrigan just took me out here to kill me. But...that doesn't look like its going to happen."
Ari was silent a moment. "You chose foolishly to be led out into the hands of an enemy. I see you are wounded. If you think you killed her, it is not true. I sense her life-force nearby. You should go and finish her off."
"No, no," I said. "It's not like that. She just...had second thoughts I guess."
"You mean you are still at her mercy?" asked Ari. Her eyes were positively black.
"Uh, I guess. But I really think things are better now. I intend--"
Ari grew in height and aged to her twenties, her simple dress transforming to royal but striking silks. Gold was at her throat and on her head. Her beauty intensified, but her eyes were as black as night.
"I have suffered pain and injury at the hands of my Guardian to help you. I have striven against mighty magic to smooth your way. I have brought every power of mine to bear in order to secure your success. And yet you play games? Perhaps I have chosen the wrong brother. Perhaps now I can reach out to him, and leave you to your foolishness!"
"No!" I cried, barely able to hear myself in the downpour. "I'm sorry! I will do better! I will rescue you!"
Ari diminished, and she was the simple lovely teenage girl I'd come to-- what? To love?
"Forgive my outburst, young Kingfinder. It is just that I have tried so hard to help you, and the hope of release burns within me. I have the power to really set things straight in Elkwater, you know. I can fix any problems you see."
"Oh yeah," I said, "I'd have you change things all right. But what about the King I find? What if he tries to stop you? Can you tell me any more about this Kingfinding business anyway? Everybody is so tight-lipped about it."
"Don't worry about the King - I will take care of that. And as for the secrecy, this is one of the things I would undo once I am released. But to tell you now would make your cause invalid. There is magic at work there that I cannot undo from here, especially with the Lady apt to wake at any moment. But rest assured, it is just as repugnant to me as it is to you."
I smiled. It was so good to have someone on my side.
"Now kill this girl or force her to go back with you," she said. You need to continue with your journey. I have taken your brother out of the picture for the moment. This is your chance. Make the most of it."
"Oh," I said. "How did you take Mike out of the picture?"
"You will find out when you return," answered Ari. "Do not delay and do not be distracted. Continue on the Quest without your brother. Promise me."
"I promise," I said.
Ari smiled, then disappeared. Gosh, she was so beautiful.
I decided to go look for Carrigan, even though the rain was like a monsoon. I stepped outside and could hardly see two feet in front of me in spite of the moons. I didn't see her. I turned to go back in and saw her sitting atop the rocks, staring west, getting soaked.
"What's wrong?" I shouted.
She looked down at me. "Do you hear it?" she shouted.
"Hear what?" I asked. I listened carefully, but only heard the rain and thunder. Maybe, vaguely, very vaguely, something else.
"Yamando is in a great battle," she called out.
"With what?" I asked, but she didn't answer, and so I gave up and went back into the shelter of the rocks and fell into a soggy sleep.
I awoke at dawn. The rain had stopped for a couple of hours or so, and in that time Carrigan had made a fire, cooked breakfast, dried a change of clothes for each of us, and expertly put out the fire.
"How did you start a fire in all the wetness?" I asked.
"A little something I learned from the Dibia," she said. "Eat up. I'm anxious to get to the ravine and find out what happened last night."
"Yeah, you said something about Yamando and a big battle. What did you hear?" I asked, munching on seared boar.
"Hopefully we will find out," she said.
I ate a few more bites. "Were you really going to kill me last night?"
Carrigan sighed and her shoulders drooped. "Are you sure you want to talk about that?" she asked.
"I guess not," I said.
"Good."
"Hey Carrigan," I said.
"What?"
"I...I really want to do some good things, you know. Fix things up. There are people...who need help. Rescue. Good people. I want to be a part of that." My side didn't hurt when I said that, so I figured all was well.
Carrigan smirked. "Well, its nice to know you have good intentions."
"Is it ok if we go home as soon as possible?" I asked. "I really feel like I should be getting back."
"To turn me in?" asked Carrigan.
"No, not at all! It's just that--"
"One way or another I'm sure we will be heading back today," she answered. "But not until we check out the ravine. I heard--"
At that instant we both heard a distant sound, a terrible sound: an animal cry of distress and pain.
"Yamando?" I asked, dropping what was left of my meat.
"That was no boar," said Carrigan. Come on, hurry up! Let's go!"
In a few seconds we had gathered ourselves and were racing to the ravine. We heard the terrible sound again, followed by an eerie, high-pitched whine ending in gutteral stops.
"Heyotes!" shouted Carrigan as we ran.
We reached the ravine, and it was steep, the sides angling down sharply at least fifty feet. The Candayar River flowed swiftly through, but it was narrow in this place. A few large rocks protruding from the river made a dangerous hopscotch bridge across it.
On the other side of the ravine, standing nobly at the edge like two sentinels, were the most magnificent horses I'd ever seen. One was cream-colored with black circles around its eyes, and with gray spots appearing on its hindquarters. The other was chestnut except for its hindquarters, which were white which chestnut spots. The mane of each horse extended all the way down their back to their tails, and their faces were partly covered in a downy fur. Tufts of hair also partly covered the hooves, but no big workhorses were these. They were tall and sleek, muscles bulging over thin legs like thoroughbreds.
"Are those...are those--" I couldn't remember what to call them.
But Carrigan was distracted. She was looking down into the ravine, on the far bank of the river.
"An Arlazexi mare," she whispered.
Lying on her side, with great bloody gashes around her neck, was a beautiful white horse - white with dun-colored spots on her haunches. Her head was up as she angrily stared down three vicious-looking creatures who were trying to get near her without getting bitten by her.
One flat-headed creature lunged at her, its raccoon-like body spread out in mid-air, its tail twitching behind it. It let out a high-pitched sound ending in the gutteral stops. Its wide mouth was open and its claws ready to strike.
The mare tried to stand but only managed to get up on her front hooves. Still, it was enough leverage to whip her head around and catch the oncoming heyote at the throat. She clamped down hard before savagely throwing the beast to the ground. It backed off, whimpering. the other sat still, apparently deciding to bide their time until the inevitable.
"We can't let those foul things defile that beautiful creature," I said. "Let's get 'em!"
"We can't," said Carrigan sadly.
"Why not?" I was indignant.
"Two reasons," she answered. "First of all, there is nothing we can do to save the mare. She is dying. The Heyotes are just fulfilling their role in nature. Maybe they have kits to feed. You can kill them for doing what they were born to do. But there is a bigger reason, and you should know it.
"We are forbidden to come into contact with the Arlazexi. It is one of our most sacred laws. We misused them in ages past, and forever they are to remain their own."
"I think they'd be willing to make an exception in this case," I said.
"No they wouldn't," said Carrigan, firmly.
"Well, why don't those two Arlazexi on the other side do something?"
"They can't. The ravine is too steep. They too would fall to their deaths. They are probably just there to give some comfort to the mare by their presence, to honor her."
It was horrible. I didn't want to watch. I kept watching. The mares side heaved laboriously, bloated and injured.
"Oh no!" shouted Carrigan, and she quickly turned away, tears in her eyes.
"What? What?" I shouted, wondering what new horror she saw.
Carrigan choked out the words. "The mare is in labor," she said. "She is giving birth!"
I wondered at how this girl who could so casually speak of killing a piglet in front of its mother could nevertheless be brought to tears at the idea of a dying horse and foal. I mean, it bothered me tremendously, but I couldn't make sense of this weird huntress.
She saw me staring at her and must have guessed my thoughts. "Tim," said Carrigan, "the Arlazexi are not beasts. They have souls. They are our betters."
I looked down at the slavering heyotes. "That horse is having a baby?"
"Yes," she said.
"I'm going down, nature or no nature, sacred law or no."
"Tim, stop! You cannot!" Carrigan grabbed me by the arm.
"I am going to rescue that mom and her baby or die trying. Which would solve your little dilemma, I guess. But you can't stop me." I flung myself away from her considerable grip and started down the ravine - too swiftly, as it turned out. I lost my balance after putting too much pressure on my injured leg and fell about fifteen feet.
I got up and kept descending. The heyotes had taken notice and were getting restless. The two Arlazexi atop the opposite side of the ravine were also getting restless. The mare seemed oblivious.
I made it down in a final tumble and ran to the stepping-stones of the river. Gee, they were a lot further apart than it appeared from the top of the ravine. I took a deep breath and jumped to the nearest one.
It was quite slippery.
I scrambled back up onto the rock from the swirling waters and jumped to the next, which was closer and flatter.
And to the next.
The next rock was a poser. It was too far to jump. I looked down at the river and wondered if I could swim it.
"If you try to swim, the current will carry you away. You don't have to jump all the way to the next rock. There is a big flat rock just under the surface about four feet away. See? "
"Carrigan!"
"I figured I'm already in so much trouble, why not just break the most sacred law of all time while I'm at it?" Carrigan winked at me.
"To save a mom," I said.
"And her baby," she replied.
We jumped together, and despite the fact that the rock was only inches fromt he surface, the powerful current would have carried me away if it were not for Carrigan holding on to me and somehow gripping the rock with her feet. We fought to stand so we could jump - or rather lean into - the next rock, and the rest was easy.
Well, until we got to the far bank, that is.
The heyotes decided they weren't waiting any longer and were attacking the mare at once. She already had fresh scars on her face. Her spirit seemed to be waning. But Carrigan launched three arrows in succession, and one heyote went down, its head a pincushion.
I launched myself at the other, drawing my sword from my back-sheath, and before the creature knew what was happening I'd parted its head from its shoulders. The third heyote wanted no part of the new odds and turned tail, running along the riverbank as far as its loping gait would take it.
I knelt by the mare, and danced out of the way just as her teeth went snapping at me!
#Stay away, spawn of the Sixth,
and do not break the True Covenant
but let us live free
and die free.
Let me die free#
My heart pounded. The creature made no sound when she spoke thus. she spoke directly into my mind. I tried to craft a response.
*And your babe too
will be sacrificed to this law?*
Crude, I know. But hey, pretty good for nine years old (stile-enhanced) wouldn't you say?
A wave of pain washed over the mare, from the death throes or labor I do not know.
#Do not
Do not
enslave the foal#
"We've got to go," said Carrigan. "We can't be here when the foal is born or it will impress to us. That is worse than forbidden. We've got to go."
"But it will die out here!" I shouted.
"Ask the mare what she wants!" shouted Carrigan right back at me.
"No!" I yelled.
I reached into the foal's mind, feeling the horror of the mare as I did so.
*Do you
want to live?*
I sensed confusion, then:
#What is 'live', Not-Mother?#
The mare gave a great contraction, then cried out and went limp, breathing no more.
"She's dead! Carrigan, get out your knife!"
"Tim, no!"
"The baby is still alive! I just talked with him!" I turned to Carrigan with tears in my eyes.
She shuddered and drew out her long hunting-knife, weeping as she cut into the mare and freed the foal.
The baby tumbled out, all covered in slime and blood. Sorry, kids, but that's how it was. But he was kicking and made a beautiful sound as soon as the air hit his body. He was silvery-colored, with white spots on his haunches and a white mane.
He looked up at me, and then at Carrigan.
#I love
I love the two
my two
I love#
Carrigan closed her eyes. "Shozer forgive us," she said.
I swallowed. "Well, now what do we do?"
"That was my earlier point," she answered through clenched teeth. Carrigan took a deep breath and surveyed our surroundings, all the while stroking the foal's head. She looked up to the top of the gorge a long time.
"I think we can carry him to the top," she said.
"How are we going to get him across the river?" I asked.
"No, you don't understand. I mean to the top of this side of the gorge, the Arlazexi side."
I glanced up the imposing wall of rock and earth, but that's not what I was afraid of. "Is that...safe?"
"No. The Arlazexi will probably kill us. But hey, if you want, we can leave this little fella out here for the heyotes."
#In my belly
emptiness and thirst
on my skin
coldness -
comfort
from my two
I love#
"He's cold and hungry," murmured Carrigan.
"I heard him. So how do we get him up the gorge?"
"First we need to clean him up. Probably he's cold because of the slime drying on him in the wind. He's also too slippery for us to carry anywhere right now. Give me your shirt."
"What?" I wasn't used to going around bare-chested.
"All right I'll use mine," Carrigan stated simply.
"No no, ok, just a minute," I replied before she could disrobe, and took off my hunting shirt.
"Wet it thoroughly in the river and hurry back," said the Huntress, and I hurried to obey. I shivered as I made my way to the swift-moving water. Although it was the middle of summer, the early morning wind blowing through the walls of the gorge felt wintry enough.
"Here you go," I said as I handed the dripping shirt to Carrigan. She snatched it and began rubbing the foal thoroughly, starting with the legs, removing the slime and blood.
"Guess I won't be wearing that shirt any time soon," I mumbled.
Suddenly Carrigan stopped with a gasp. She had been cleaning the head and nose of the little stallion, but now she just stared at it.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
She pointed at a little white bump on the top of his head that had been hidden in white hair and afterbirth.
"Did he hurt his head?" I asked, not understanding.
Carrigan began shivering. Perhaps she was cold too.
"Haven't you been studying? Do you know about the Hippmora?"
I strained to remember my recent lessons at Ibn-Warna.
"Wasn't that a special Arlazexi that the Rowan King rode during the Durshone Wars? It had a spiral horn or something, right? A unicorn, kind of."
"Twice before in the history of Tuntuq-Teague has there been the sign of the Hippmora," Carrigan intoned as if reciting a lesson, "The first was Nigasru, who befriended Carthalo when he first came to this world. The second was Inqui, born just three years before the Sorceress descended into Elkwater from the Northern Trake. The birth of the Hippmora heralds fateful events to the Kingdom, for good or ill. There hasn't been one alive for over six hundred years."
"Maybe it's just a bony spot," I suggested.
"No," Carrigan whispered.
Our thoughts were interrupted by the powerful mental voice of the foal.
#Mother
speaks to me no longer
wakes not
dreams not
Mother!#
In response I heard the echo of a reply, and I looked at Carrigan in surprise.
*Your mother has gone
gone to her Granddames
to gallop over starfields
and graze on distant moons.*
The foal snorted in reply, and his response was not unlike Cloud-Warrior's when I asked him if dogs went to heaven.
#One of two
I love,
of her going
you know nothing
only she is gone.#
"He told you," I said.
Carrigan shot me the sort of glance one normally expects from an annoyed teacher. "Shut up and help me carry him," is what she said.
Getting up the slope of the gorge would have been challenging even without trying to carry a newborn foal. I slipped several times. The last time - near the top - our charge broke his own fall and managed to stand.
"Wow, he's good on his feet," I exclaimed. "I think I'll name him Tango!"
"You will do no such thing," retorted Carrigan. "Arlazexi name themselves!"
"That's stupid," I grumbled.
"So is 'Tango'," said Carrigan. "Now hold on to him and watch your footing this time."
The last few feet were the worst. Carrigan had to hop up onto the level ground and pull while I lifted the foal from behind. He was terribly heavy. When he was up, I scrambled to the top, then wished immediately that I had stayed below.
Thirty or forty magnificent horses silently beheld us, manes blowing in the breeze, tails lazily twitching.
"Gophersnot," I said. Kwotik had been rubbing off on me.
A large bay-with-white spots stallion at the forefront stepped forward.
#The humans must be punished
punished by their own kind
but the befouled foal
must be crushed#
The stallion rose up on his hind legs, forehooves ready to snuff the life from our charge. I let out a cry, but Carrigan positioned herself right over the foal.
"No!" she cried.
The stallion came down a foot away.
#Move now, twofoot,
or receive your due
from me
and not your own kind!#
"What did he say?" shouted Carrigan at me.
"I thought you could understand them!" I replied.
"No! Only the foal! Quick, what did he say?"
I told her.
"Tell him that the foal is the Hippmora!"
I trembled as I addressed the huge stallion.
*The foal before you
is the horned and fated one
you have waited for.*
At that the stallion let out a terrible whinny of anger and frustration. The Arlazexi gathered behind him also stomped and shook.
#You have dared to Impress
the long-awaited Thunderer?
All the more should this Abomination
be crushed!#
From the flock a mare stepped forward and addressed her Summit:
#Not so, Arlestecor!
Impressed or not, this is our Thunderer!
We must receive him
or lose our freedom.
So says the Ancient Trail.#
The stallion named Arlestecor wheeled on the mare and bit her sharply on the neck, drawing blood.
#The foal is mine to do as I please, Danru!
I am his sire!
Do not question me!#
A chestnut stallion with a furry face and golden-colored spots on his haunches leaped forward and confronted Arlestecor, teeth and eyes flashing.
#Not so, Arlestecor!
The Thunderer belongs
to us all,
to every Flock
and every Wanderer!#
Froth appeared at Arlestecor's mouth.
#Challenge thou me the Summitship, Gebilee?#
#So be it
Before and behind
leaf and blade
slope and plain#
And the smaller Arlazexi charged Arlestecor, who nimbly danced out of the way. Nevertheless he was tagged by the rear hoof of Gebilee as the challenger passed by. The hoof caught the Summit squarely in his ribs, and the stroke was accompanied by a horrible crunching sound.
The battle that ensued was furious, the two Arlazexi circling one another , then attacking. even with a broken rib, Arlestecor was clearly the stronger of the two. Gebilee began to weaken and was bleeding from several places. Arlestecor reared and came down on Gebilee's chest. The smaller stallion fell and rolled to the edge of the gorge, struggling to get up.
#Your pitiful life is spent, Gebilee
And you shall not live
To challenge me
again#
Arlestecor galloped toward the fallen challenger and reared to crush the life from him, but at the last moment Gebilee danced out of the way, his injury feigned, and pushed the bay Arlazexi forward. Arlestecor tried to twist his body around so as not to tumble down the gorge, but his momentum was too great and he fell sideways down the treacherous cliff. His screams could be heard for only a few seconds before they abruptly halted, and when I peered over the lip of the gorge I saw his body lying still on a ledge far below, his head twisted at a terrible angle.
Gebilee stood over Carrigan and the foal, and gently spoke.
#Safe are you now,
little nameless one,
orphaned but not unloved.
We shall not hurt you#
The little foal peered up at Gebilee with shining eyes.
#Orphaned not,
for there are two I love.
Nameless not,
for I now take the name
of my brave Sire:
Arlestecor#
All looked at the foal in shock, both humans and Arlazexi. But the little Arlestecor struggled to his feet and let out a hearty whinny, and Gebilee bowed his head.
#Thunderer you surely are, noble Arlestecor#
The mare Danru stepped forward.
# I will nurse thee
if you will and the Summit Gebilee will allow
For your mother was my own sister
and my little Tanti is almost weaned#
#Auntie# whinnied the Thunderer, the Hippmara.
Gebilee pawed approval then met my own gaze and Carrigan's.
#You must return
to your own
to justice or mercy.
Already your kind awaits you,
the one we call Shadow
On yonder plain.#
I turned to see to whom the new Summit of the flock referred, and saw all the way on the other side of the gorge a dark-skinned figure standing, arms at his sides, locks swaying in the breeze.
Carrigan followed my gaze and turned pale.
"The Dibya," she whispered.
Little Arlestecor, sensing our discomfort, sang to our minds:
#Do not go!
Stay among the flock
and I will protect!#
In such a short time, the helpless little foal was taking his place in the world. Already he was not the same creature we rescued from the bottom of the gorge.
Carrigan had tears in her eyes.
*Go we must,
receive justice we must.
But we will not forget you*
The foal cried out in despair, then said
#Go then
But tell your judges
that they must be merciful
or risk the vengeance of the Thunderer#
#This is a newborn?# wondered Gebilee.
I wasn't in the mood to join in the amazement. I hugged the Thunderer distractedly and followed Carrigan down the gorge to meet our doom. We had to pass by the body of the defeated Summit on the way down. His eyes seemed to stare at me with a smugness at our impending punishment.
I silently wished the heyotes bon appetit.
Chapter End |
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