Derian resolved that, if Eshinarvash would permit, he'd check him over just as he would any other riding horse before they went any farther. Meanwhile, he'd tend to his own needs.
He had been forced to leave without much more than he kept hanging on his belt, but that meant he had a knife and the belt wallet in which he kept various useful sundries. None of these included a cup, but his hands served. He splashed off the worst of the horse and man sweat, then set about considering possibilities for breakfast.
A blackberry bramble supplied several handfuls of tart fruit, but this made him rather more hungry than otherwise.
If I had fishhooks, I could try for fish, but I don % and anyhow, I don't know for how long Eshinarvash plans to stop here. I'm sure both of us have frightened off any small game—even if I had the means for catching it. I'm no Firekeeper to make a snare from a few bent twigs. Maybe I should have paid better attention to Race and Edlin.
Derian compromised by eating some young sassafras leaves. They were slimy when chewed, but tasted nice and gave the impression that he had something in his stomach. When he returned from his foraging to find Eshinarvash grazing on the thick grass closest to the stream, Derian felt positively jealous.
He resolved not to show it, but rounded out his repast with several more handfuls of water.
"Let me take a look at your feet," Derian said to the horse. "You've done a lot of running."
Eshinarvash nickered in what seemed a conversational fashion. He didn't say "yes," but then he didn't shake his head "no" either. Derian walked over and lifted the near front hoof. With a few minutes' inspection, he learned a great deal more about the Wise Horses.
They differed from domesticated horses in more ways than their intelligence and wildly patterned coats. The walls of their hooves were thicker, the frog less vulnerable. Cracks and splits wouldn't be common, nor would strains.
Derian ran his hand along Eshinarvash's foreleg and could feel the strength of the bone. Somehow he could sense the density. The weight of the bone was what he would have expected in a much larger horse. Whatever the Wise Horses' origin, they were well adapted to their lives.
"I bet you have a better digestion, too," Derian said, "at least more tolerant of change."
He finished his inspection of Eshinarvash's feet and wandered over to a small heap of dung. He kicked a horse apple open with one boot toe and inspected it. He couldn't tell for certain, but the contents seemed to prove his conjecture.
"You people don't fit the picture," Derian said aloud. "Wolves, jaguars, deer, all the rest are animals we think of as wild. Horses, though… All the wild ones I've seen are more like strays, feral—descendants of horses let loose at some time. It's hard to judge based on one horse, but it seems to me you're a separate breed. Did you come about it naturally, like a jaguar does her spots, or did something else happen?"
Eshinarvash's ears flickered as he listened, but he did not comment, nor did Derian expect him to do so.
"Is it safe for me to go past the fringes of the trees?" Derian asked. "I'm still hungry."
Eshinarvash raised his head and then carefully nodded.
"I can go into the forest?"
Nod.
"Right."
Damn, that was weird. I mean, I should be used to it by now, but no matter how I try, it still gets me. I know Roanne understood me well. Prahini is learning, but Eshinarvash understands me as well as Varjuna does. I'll take his word that the forest is safe, but I don't think I'll go too far. He might not think about how vulnerable an unarmed human is. I don't have his strength or ability to trample.
Rather than risking getting lost, Derian stayed close to the stream. As he walked, he tried to remember the type of things Firekeeper had brought to augment his meals when they had traveled together. This helped, as did judicious sampling of likely looking leaves. His best find was a beech tree with nuts beginning to ripen. Before this he had thought the little nut meats too small to merit the labor needed to extract them, but now they were welcome.
No longer hungry, if not precisely full, Derian returned to where Eshinarvash had made great inroads into the grass along the stream. The horse was still grazing, but more idly.
Derian glanced up at the sun.
"I've filled the worst of the holes," he said, then clarified when the horse twitched his ears back and forth. "That is, I'm fed. If there's somewhere you need to take us, just let me know."
In reply, Eshinarvash walked over next to a large rock that would do quite nicely for a mounting block.
"We're off, then?" Derian said. "Right."
He mounted with ease. Although he preferred a saddle, he'd been on and off horses as long as he could remember, and many times he'd pulled himself up onto old Hauler or one of the other quieter horses rather than walk. His rear end protested the abuse, but Derian ignored it. He had other things to think about.
Eshinarvash's original course had taken them west, but slowly he was angling north. U-Bishinti was south of u-Seeheera, and Derian wondered just how close to the city they would come.
Taking me west could have been a means of getting me out of sight of u-Bishinti. I wonder if this forest connects up with the one we rode through on our first trip back to u-Seeheera from u-Bishinti? But if he only needed to take me to the city, why all this fuss? Why not just come out and get me? Why do it so early?
The most logical reason was because the Wise Horse did not wish all of u-Bishinti to be buzzing with gossip regarding Derian's departure.
I hope I didn't mess things up with the note I sent Varjuna, but Eshinarvash let me send it. Maybe he trusts Varjuna to keep a close tongue where the affairs of the Wise Horses are concerned. I'll bet anything he does. But why take me to the city, then?
By late afternoon, Derian was certain that they were not going to u-Seeheera. Beneath the cover of the foliage it was hard for him to keep track of directions, but he caught frequent enough glimpses of the sun to be sure that they weren't moving in circles. Although Eshinarvash had indeed brought them back east somewhat, they must have long ago passed the city.
Eshinarvash had also taken some steps to assure Derian's comfort. They stopped repeatedly so both could stretch, cool, and drink. At the third or fourth of these stops, Derian was delighted to find an injured fish swimming in one of the shallow pools. There was no sign of disease; rather, it looked as if it had escaped fatally injured from the clutches of some predator.
Derian hadn't grown up on the banks of a major river without learning how to clean and cook fish. His wallet contained flint and steel, and though he didn't have Firekeeper's gift for kindling a fire, he did well enough.
When a fish in similar condition was waiting at their next stop, Derian stopped believing in luck.
"You have someone helping us," he said to Eshinarvash.
The Wise Horse blew out his breath as if to say, "Of course!"
"Thank whoever it is for me," Derian said. "This would have been a hard ride on an empty stomach."
The horse's ears twitched and flattened at the idiomatic expression. Derian laughed.
"You know perfectly well that I wasn't calling you an empty stomach. Poshtuvanu told me that the expression is very similar in Liglimosh. What I was saying was that I would have found it hard to go so long without something substantial to eat."
Toward evening, they stopped again and Derian had the impression that this stop would be for a longer period of time. This time, the fish catchers were waiting to get a look at him. They proved to be a pair of otters, slender, shining brown, and as self-possessed as cats. They did not seem markedly larger than the otters Derian had glimpsed in the Flin River, but then size would not be a great advantage to a creature who lived in streams and must snake easily through small gaps when the waters ran low.
One of the otters nosed a fish across to Derian, and though by this time Derian would have been ready for a change of diet, he accepted it gratefully. When he cleaned it, he started to bury the guts, then remembe
red that Firekeeper always offered them to Blind Seer or Elation.
"Would you like these?" he asked the otters.
The bolder of the pair made as if to move closer, but hesitated. Derian understood.
"Stand clear," he said, and tossed them over using an underhand motion he hoped would not seem threatening.
Derian was aware of Eshinarvash standing by, slowly chewing a mouthful of grass, and wondered if he was somehow translating—or at least clarifying what Derian said. Did all the yarimaimalom speak Liglimosh? Somehow Derian didn't think so. Firekeeper had once told him that at the time of their first meeting the falcon Elation had understood Pellish far better than Firekeeper herself had. Indeed, Firekeeper had needed to be taught the language. By implication, Blind Seer had not understood it at all, though he had most certainly learned.
I wonder if I'm here as some sort of substitute for Firekeeper. She understands them, but she's off running and howling with the wolves on Misheemnekuru. What could there be that couldn't wait for her return?
He didn't like that thought much, but by now he was completely confident that whatever the reason Eshinarvash wanted him, at least some of the yarimaimalom didn't mean him any harm. Washed and filled with fish, Derian made himself as comfortable as possible on the grass.
"Wake me if you need me," he said to Eshinarvash, and despite various aches he had been certain would keep him awake, he dropped instantly off to sleep.
When he woke, it was full dark and markedly cooler. Eshinarvash was nosing him, his breath warm and smelling of chewed grass. Derian hadn't put out his last fire, but had banked it down as low as he could, hoping to use the coals to start a new one.
To his surprise, the fire was already burning fairly strongly and what he glimpsed in the firelight was more astonishing than the fire.
A contingent of yarimaimalom sat just visible in the glow. Derian recognized the otters—or at least two very like them. He was less comfortable with the two great cats who sat there. One was a jaguar, the other a puma. There was an owl as well, a great horned barn owl that kept twisting its head away from the light, then twisting it back to get another look at Derian.
They don't look like they're planning to eat me, he thought slightly hysterically. He took a second look at the two great cats. I don't think I'd make much of a meal for them anyhow. They'd do better with venison. Right? Right.
"Good evening," Derian said aloud, then repeated the greeting in Liglimosh. In his nervousness, he'd spoken Pellish.
Animal heads inclined in reply—all but that of the owl, who had been looking the other way. He spun his around with a swiftness that made Derian's neck ache. Derian licked his lips.
Eshinarvash wouldn't have brought you all this way just to let somebody eat you. He's standing there calm as can be. The otters brought you fish. They're waiting, too. Thing is, they can't talk except maybe to manage a "yes" or "no." You've got to do the talking for all of you.
"Do you need me to go somewhere? Do something for you?"
The jaguar—not Truth, Derian felt fairly certain; this one was heavier—stepped into the firelight. Moving with the sort of deliberate caution a human uses when approaching a dog he isn't sure is friendly, the jaguar came over to Derian and with incredible delicacy bumped his head against Derian's arm.
"I'm going to take that as 'yes'," Derian said, rising to his feet. "I'd like a drink of water, then I'll go wherever you want."
The jaguar looked at the fire and made a rasping noise—sort of an alley-cat yowl spoken softly. He raised a paw and scraped at the dirt.
"You want me to put the fire out," Derian said. "I can do that. I'm going to have trouble seeing without it, though. I'm not Firekeeper."
The jaguar came and put his shoulder next to Derian's hand, inviting him to touch. The fur felt like the finest plush velvet, and Derian had the guilty thought that with her red hair, his mother would look magnificent in a coat made from this fur.
Keep those thoughts to yourself, Derian, my lad, he thought. Aloud, he added, "You're going to guide me this way, by touch?"
The jaguar bumped against him again. Derian turned to Eshinarvash.
"You're not coming?"
The Wise Horse shook his head. Derian wished the Wise Horse could explain why.
Really, I can see why there are those who are eager to learn how to talk with the yarimaimalom as Firekeeper does. Even with whatever elaborate gimmicks they've worked out over the years, communication has to be frustratingly slow—and complicated ideas probably get reduced to simplistic forms.
With nothing in which he could carry water, Derian had to resort to using dirt to smother the fire. A large flat piece of rock made an adequate shovel, though he wouldn't have wanted to use it as such if the ground were harder.
Derian then crossed over to Eshinarvash, stumbling just a bit now that there was no fight.
"Thank you for the honor of letting me ride you," he said softly, reaching to stroke the horse's neck. "I hope I'll see you again."
Eshinarvash blew on him in what Derian thought was a friendly manner. When Derian turned to thank the otters, they had vanished. All that was left were the puma, the jaguar, and the owl.
Three night creatures, Derian thought. I hope they're patient with me.
They were more than patient. The two great cats flanked him when the path was wide enough. When it was narrow they walked one in front, one behind, assuring he would neither stray nor bump into anything. The owl flew off, but returned periodically, and after one such visit, Derian noticed that the puma—who was walking in front—had picked up the pace. By this time, Derian's eyes had adjusted somewhat, and in the light of the full moon he was able to avoid stumbling.
Then just as suddenly as he had increased the pace, the puma halted.
"What's wrong?" Derian asked, when the great cat didn't move.
The puma craned his neck around and hissed at Derian. At the sight of those enormous fangs revealed in their glory and the moonlight glinting off of slitted golden eyes, Derian couldn't have made a sound if he had wanted to—but if he could have made a sound, he would have screamed.
The jaguar came to stand beside the puma, and together they stood watchfully, their ears pricked forward and even their whiskers seeming to curve ahead. Derian strained his own hearing to see if he could catch what had caused this alteration in attitude.
For a long time he heard nothing. Even the crickets and night peepers had fallen silent. Then he realized that what he'd taken for the croaking of a bullfrog couldn't be. The timbre was wrong, as was the tempo. In a moment, Derian placed it. Someone was beating on a drum.
It was a low, repetitious thudding, not overly loud, but paced to match the beating of a human heart at rest. The sound made Derian's skin crawl.
Side by side, jaguar and puma lowered themselves and began to creep forward. Derian took a step forward, but at a glare from the jaguar dropped as well. Going on all fours took most of his concentration, especially since it was becoming increasingly clear that his feline companions desired not only that he not be seen, but that he not be heard as well.
Still, as they did not move with any great speed, Derian was able to trail them. He did his best, knowing as he did so the inferiority that Firekeeper had lived with all her life, the sense that his body was the wrong shape with which to do anything useful, that his senses were not only weak but had lousy priorities.
Right now, Derian would have given everything he had to be able to see in the dark or figure out what was going on by smell. As it was, all he could do was smell the slightly rank scent of cat and see well enough to be absolutely certain that the two cats in front of him were both definitely male.
But the drumming was becoming louder, and that heartbeat rhythm was a guide of its own. Derian heard other things, too. Someone had set up a wind harp. No other instrument made that wispy, ethereal sound. There was a blowing snort that had to come from a horse, a sharp bark that sounded like a dog or fox, a strangled sq
uawk.
He smelled smoke, not the stale smoke that still clung to his clothing, but smoke from a big fire. When he looked up from his concentration on the ground in front of him, Derian thought he saw a faint glow ahead.
A bonfire, but built lower than we are. I'll bet anything that whoever it is we're sneaking up on is down in some sort of hollow where they're pretty much out of sight. Late at night, hidden in a hollow somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Whoever's up to whatever, they don't want anyone to know. They don't figure anyone does know, either, or they wouldn't risk the fire and the music. The yarimaimalom know, though, and they wanted me to see whatever this is. They probably wanted Firekeeper, but she's not available, so they settled for me. Let's not disgrace the species, Derian Carter.
With that admonition, Derian crept forward. The jaguar and puma had been lying side by side for several moments now and a space just the right size for Derian had been left pointedly open between them. Trembling despite the fact that they had not offered him the least harm, Derian crept into the space. He wanted a drink, and that of something stronger than water. Then he looked through the screening branches and forgot about everything but what he saw.
He'd been right about the hollow. What he hadn't expected was the temple. It had the step-pyramid shape that still capped the buildings in Heeranenahalm. In this case, the step pyramid was the entire temple. There were no buildings around it or beneath it, no meeting rooms or apartments or rooms in which to keep the various animals that seemed indispensable in the Liglimom's religion.
It wasn't a very high pyramid, either. If Derian had been standing next to it, another of himself standing on his shoulders would have been able to see the top. It rose from a squat base with the careful gradations that testified that the builders had been working not from plans, but from necessity. They'd made the base as wide as was needed to support the top, and the top had to be wide because it was where all the activity would happen. From what Derian could see, there needed to be room enough for at least two humans to move around the shining black stone altar at the very top.
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