The Horsemasters

by Joan Wolf

  “True. But won’t her tribe miss her and come looking for her?”

  “This is what we will do,” Thorn said. “We will send the mare back with her reins ripped. They will think Siguna has had an accident in the forest. They will look for her, of course, but when they cannot find her, they will assume that she is dead.”

  Mait nodded solemnly.

  “We will have to be very careful to cover the way of our going.”

  Again Mait nodded, Siguna’s crystal gray eyes widened as he added, “We can put her on one of our horses and take turns walking.”

  “Sa,” said the one named Thorn, evidently finding nothing odd in the prospect of walking while a woman rode. “I know we were supposed to remain here until the Horsemasters moved again, but I am thinking the situation has changed.”

  Siguna, who had followed most of this conversation, realized with growing foreboding that the surveillance on her people had been more or less constant.

  “Where are you taking me?” she demanded.

  “We are taking you to our own camp,” Thorn replied, “and to our own chief.”

  At those words, and for the first time in this very odd encounter, Siguna was afraid. She assumed the icy expression she always wore to mask her fear and asked, “He will make me one of his women?”

  The boys looked horrified. “Of course not!” Thorn said.

  “In our tribe, a man has only one woman,” Mait explained kindly, “and Ronan is married to Nel. You will be no man’s woman, Siguna. It is simply that we wish to keep the fact that we have horses a secret, so we cannot send you back to your father.”

  “What will you do with me, then?” Siguna asked, truly mystified.

  “That will be for Ronan to say” came Mait’s reply. He turned to Thorn. “We had better not delay.”

  “That is so,” Thorn said. He took the mare’s reins from Siguna and led her apart from the two colts. Then he slashed the braided leather rein with his knife, so it trailed in the dirt, and slapped the mare on her flank to send her on her way. At first she resisted going, particularly when Acorn raised his head and called after her. But Thorn picked up some stones and chased her a little distance along the deer track. When he returned to the clearing, Siguna was sitting on Acorn, with Mait on Frost holding her reins.

  Mait grinned. “You can walk first.”

  Thorn made a face. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  To Siguna’s utter stupefaction, the boys let her ride the whole way. It never once seemed to occur to either Thorn or Mait to make her walk. She did not understand it.

  She could understand the way they talked about their chief. They were afraid of him, but even more than that, they wanted him to think well of them. That attitude made perfect sense to Siguna; it was the way her father’s men regarded him. It was the boys’ behavior toward her that she found so odd.

  Her first sight of the Great Cave was reassuring. The massive tunnel was impressive, but the large group of people gathered together in the bright sunlight at the tunnel’s entrance seemed to be comprised mainly of women and children. It was not until later, when Siguna got a chance to see the arrows that the women were working on so industriously, that her initial complacency died.

  All the heads lifted when Siguna and the boys came around the turn and into sight of the cave. Thorn halted the horses at a little distance from the women, and Siguna sat proudly upright and watched warily as a slim, long-legged girl detached herself from the group and approached, two wolflike dogs following at her heels.

  “Greetings, Nel,” Thorn said gravely when the girl had reached them. “I am glad you are here. We have a little problem.”

  “So I see,” the girl called Nel replied, lifting long green eyes to survey Siguna, “The Horsemasters are on the move again?”

  “Na.” It was Mait who answered as Thorn slid down from Acorn’s back. “But we met this girl in the forest by accident, and she saw us riding the horses. We did not think Ronan would want her to return to her people bearing that particular news.”

  “She is the daughter of their chief,” Thorn put in, flipping Acorn’s reins over his head and leading the colt a little forward.

  “Dhu,” said the girl called Nel. One of the dogs pushed up beside her and nudged her hand with his head. Absently, Nel began to stroke his forehead. The other dog whined, and Mait snapped his fingers. The dog trotted over to Mait, tail wagging, to have its head scratched.

  Siguna watched the dogs with wary amazement. The dogs belonging to her tribe were not the sort you patted on the head. In fact, since childhood Siguna had borne a scar on her calf that served her as an eloquent reminder of the ferocity of dogs. She had been only a small girl when the incident had happened, but she remembered well that if her father had not been nearby to pull the dog off her, she would have had far more scars than the single one on her leg.

  Nel was still looking at her. “Do you understand our way of speaking?” she asked Siguna, speaking slowly and clearly.

  “Sa,” Siguna replied gruffly.

  Nel straightened up, and the dog she had been petting made its way to Thorn in search of more attention. Siguna stiffened as it came closer to her. Nel saw her reaction and smiled reassuringly. “The dogs won’t hurt you.”

  Siguna stuck her chin in the air. “I am not afraid of dogs,” she said, proudly if untruthfully.

  Nel said nothing, just continued to look at her. Siguna had the oddest feeling that those extraordinary green eyes were seeing right through into her thoughts. Even more oddly, she didn’t resent it.

  Finally, Nel said to the boys, “You did the right thing. It is unfortunate that you encountered her, but you were right not to turn her free.” She looked again at Siguna. “I fear you are going to have to make your home with us for a while.” The tone of her voice was gently rueful.

  “So I have been made to understand,” Siguna said, her own voice still gruff.

  A small boy came running out of the tunnel entrance shouting, “Uncle Mait! Uncle Mait! You’re back!” He dashed up and flung his arms around the young man’s knees.

  Mait laughed and lifted the child to sit on his shoulders. “Sa, I am back, Learn. Where is your mother?”

  “There.” A small finger pointed in the direction of a woman who was exiting the tunnel at a slower pace than her son. Siguna saw that she had the same smooth dark hair and olive-toned skin as Mait. This must be his sister, she thought.

  “What has happened?” the new arrival demanded in a voice that had the same lilting intonation as Mait’s.

  Once again Siguna heard her presence being explained. Then silence fell, and everyone looked at the slim girl, who seemed to be in charge.

  “Tora, will you have someone get me White Foot?” Nel asked. “Thorn and I will take Siguna out to the men’s camp. We had better discuss this matter with Ronan.”

  * * * *

  It did not take them long to get to the valley where the men were camped and the horses were pastured, Siguna, shrewdly checking numbers, was relieved when she saw the small herd of horses. The numbers of men were much greater, greater than any force her father had yet encountered, Yet still, Siguna reckoned, they were but half the number of men who followed Fenris. There was nothing here that should cause her father undue trouble.

  “You and Siguna wait here,” Nel said to Thorn, and, followed by her two dogs, she cantered down the hill toward one of the massed groups of men in the valley. She rode a little differently from the men of Siguna’s tribe, but her balance and control were perfect. She pulled up, and a black-haired man came forward to stand by her horse’s side. They spoke together.

  “That is Ronan,” Thorn said. “Our chief.”

  Siguna asked curiously, “And is Nel his wife?”

  “Sa.”

  “She is a good rider,” said Siguna.

  Someone was running for the chief’s horse, a big gray stallion, and in a short time both Nel and her husband w
ere cantering toward Siguna and Thorn. Siguna’s throat suddenly dried, and her heart began to thud in her chest. Who knew what this chief would do with her?

  The horses were approaching the slope, and then they were driving upward, directly at the two who waited on the top of the hill above them. The gray stallion came to a sliding halt in front of Siguna, and she saw with surprise that the chief was young.

  “Dhu, Thorn,” he said in a distinctly ill-tempered voice, “I told you to keep out of sight.”

  “I am sorry, Ronan,” Thorn replied humbly.

  Siguna felt a sudden urge to defend the fawn who had kidnapped her. “I had ridden quite deep into the forest to gather herbs,” she heard herself saying.

  A pair of cold dark eyes surveyed her skeptically, and their coldness did not lift at the sight of her beautiful face and hair. This Ronan might be younger than her father, Siguna thought, but he was every bit as intimidating.

  “Don’t glare so at the poor girl,” Nel said mildly to her husband. “She is going to have more trouble over this than we are.”

  Ronan shot his wife an impatient glance. “I do not need the additional worry of a prisoner just now, Nel.”

  A gray shape came streaking up the path, and Siguna stifled a cry of terror as she recognized a wolf. Her horse, sensing her fear, threw up his head and backed.

  “Nigak,” Nel said, and the wolf went immediately to stand beside her horse.

  Siguna’s hands were shaking. Nel gave her a lovely smile. “He can be a little intimidating, I know, but it is only Nigak. He belongs to us and is perfectly safe.”

  Siguna stared at the wolf out of huge eyes.

  “Well, Thorn,” she heard the chief saying, “you brought her here, so I am making her your responsibility. Yours and Mait’s. You two can nurse her; I do not have either the time or the inclination.” Siguna lifted her eyes in time to see him turning his arrogant nose in the direction of his wife. “Nor do you, Nel,” he said warningly.

  “She cannot sleep in Thorn’s tent, Ronan,” Nel pointed out.

  “She can sleep in the women’s camp,” Ronan replied. “But Thorn is in charge of her. Thorn and Mait.”

  “I hear you, Ronan,” Thorn said, and Siguna found herself also nodding her head in agreement.

  “Nel tells me you left before the Horsemasters moved their camp?” Ronan asked Thorn next.

  “Sa,” Thorn said in a subdued voice.

  “We cannot take a chance of them slipping away. I will send Dai and Tyr to keep watch. Perhaps they will have enough sense to keep themselves out of sight.”

  Thorn hung his head, and Siguna felt a ridiculous pang of sympathy for him.

  “Turn the horses loose here, and go on back to the Great Cave,” Ronan ordered the boy. “Berta or Fara or someone will feed you.”

  Thorn nodded.

  Ronan wheeled his horse and galloped back to his men. To Siguna’s immense relief, the wolf followed him. The dogs, which had effaced themselves as soon as Nigak appeared, came forward again to Nel’s side. Siguna gingerly followed the example of the other two and dismounted. She relaxed slightly when the dogs ignored her.

  Nel waited while Thorn took the halters from Frost and Acorn. Her own colt rested his chin comfortably on her shoulder, and when Frost and Acorn galloped off to join their fellows, White Foot made no attempt to follow. Siguna found this extraordinary.

  As they turned to leave, Siguna noticed something decidedly odd among the formations of men in the valley. She stopped dead. “Are those women I see?” she demanded.

  Nel and Thorn followed the direction of her pointing finger. “Sa,” Thorn said. “Those are women.”

  “But they are shooting arrows!”

  Silence fell as the three watched a fleet-footed, black-haired girl aim her arrow at a hide that had been stretched upon a pole for a target. The shot went into the dead center of the hide. The girl slowed her steps, stopped, and flung back her head. Siguna was sure she was laughing.

  “I do not understand,” Siguna said. “Do you have women warriors as well as men?”

  “Some of the women who are not mothers of young children are doing weapon training with the men,” Thorn answered.

  Siguna’s eyes sparkled. “But that is wonderful!”

  Nel laughed, and Siguna realized how foolish a remark that was for the enemy chief’s daughter to be making. To her great relief, the other two let it pass without further comment.

  They walked on, and Nel said to Thorn, “I suggest you lodge Siguna with Fara. Now that Eken is busy with her own babe, Fara could use someone to help her look after the twins.”

  Once again Siguna stopped in her tracks and stared at Nel. “Do your people keep twins?”

  Nel’s delicate face momentarily appeared to harden. “We do in the Tribe of the Wolf,” she said, then continued on, White Foot and the dogs obediently following.

  Siguna began to walk also, glancing curiously at Nel’s profile. From her other side, Thorn said, “Most of the tribes of the Kindred do not keep twins, but our tribe does. Will you be afraid to stay in the same living space with twins?”

  Since early childhood, Siguna had had a policy never to admit she was afraid. She raised her chin. “Of course not.”

  “Good,” Nel said and gave her an approving look.

  They were passing two huts that looked as if they had been newly erected against the slope of the hill. A handful of women were sitting in front of one of them, sewing. As she had on the way out, Nel raised a hand in greeting, and the women waved back.

  “Surely that is an odd place to build a hut,” Siguna remarked.

  “Those are the moon huts,” Thorn replied.

  Siguna looked at him blankly. “Moon huts?”

  Nel explained what a moon hut was used for. “You do not have such a custom in your tribe?”

  Siguna shook her head.

  “Nor do we in my tribe,” Nel replied. “Many of our people do, however.” She quirked her delicate brows humorously. “At first I thought such a custom was disgraceful, demeaning to the Mother’s blood that carries the life of the tribe. However, I soon discovered that the women from the tribes that worship Sky God like the custom. Once a moon it gives them a week away from their husbands and their work, you see.”

  Privately, Siguna thought the custom sounded wonderful.

  They walked for a while in silence. Then Siguna remarked carefully, “It is not just one tribe you have gathered here, then?”

  Nel gave her a long green look and did not answer.

  “If she is going to live with us, she is certain to find out,” Thorn said reasonably.

  Nel turned her unnerving gaze on Thorn. Then she sighed. “That is probably true.”

  Thus given tacit permission, Thorn turned to Siguna. “We are a federation of tribes from all over the mountains,” he explained. “We have been following the progress of your people, and we have united to keep them from destroying us, the way they have destroyed the Kindred tribes to our north.”

  “Name of the Thunderer,” Siguna muttered, using her father’s favorite oath.

  Both of her captors glanced at her, but refrained from asking for a translation.

  Siguna was beginning to think that perhaps it was a good thing that she had been captured. She would find out what she could about these adversaries and then try to escape and return to Fenris with the information. If she could do that, she thought, if she could return to her people with such important information, then would her life be different. Then would her father look upon her with pride. He would value her as he did her brothers. A small smile played around the corners of Siguna’s lips as she fantasized happy pictures of life in the future.

  * * * *

  Siguna settled into the life of the camp with an ease that astonished even herself. Fara was kind, and the chores she asked Siguna to perform were not onerous. The women in the Great Cave worked hard, taking care of children, gathering roots and berries and edible grasses and grains, cook
ing, keeping their family’s clothing in good condition and making new clothes—all things that the women among Siguna’s people did. One major difference between Siguna’s tribe and this one was that the men of the Kindred took care of the meat. Not only did they bring it in, but they skinned and butchered it. Relieved of this backbreaking job, the women had more time and energy for their other work.

  Fara and her friends had been horrified when Siguna told them that the women of her tribe did the butchering.

  “Well, what do the men do then?” Beki demanded.

  “They are warriors,” Siguna answered. “They take care of their horses and their weapons. They hunt.”

  Berta looked up from the arrowhead she was working on and commented, “The women of your tribe must be fools.”

  Siguna thought, The women of my tribe are not fools. It is just that they have never learned another way.

  Siguna’s jobs were to mind the twins, who were lively, charming children, and help with the cooking and the sewing. The women did not ask her to help with the task that was taking up the bulk of their time these days, the making of arrows.

  In normal times, Fara said, the tribe’s toolmaker would make the arrows. But Ronan had had the toolmakers show the women the skill of arrow making, and that is the chore to which the vast majority of them were now turning their hands.

  Some of them worked on arrowheads, which they fashioned with flint tools from the bones of the animals they ate. Others made the arrow shafts, first shaving the wood clean, then passing it over a fire to make it supple, and finally sliding it through the hole of a shaft straightener to make it straight. Finally came the binding of the arrowhead to the shaft with sinew, and the arrow was finished.

  Fara had told Siguna that the women had decided it would be ill-done of them to make her work on something that was aimed at the defeat of her own people. How odd, Siguna found herself thinking time and again, that in the camp of my enemies I should be treated with more consideration and courtesy than I ever knew at home.

  Either Thorn or Mait was usually at hand, but Siguna soon found herself regarding them as companions rather than as guards. She particularly liked to watch Thorn draw. She had seen such drawings in the caves of some of the tribes her father had conquered, and she found it fascinating to see how a horse could appear on a stone with just a few strokes of Thorn’s clever fingers.