Baccat licked his forepaw, groomed his whiskers. I deduce from your mind that your many, many, many days is three. You scared away other birds eating the Sallows’ suet three days ago.
Long time.
“We’ll see what I have in the stable’s no-time.” It had been stocked by the Yews, and not, he thought, by D’Yew herself. He’d taken some extremely basic meals from it. I can get food when I am out this evening—Draeg jutted his chin toward Baccat—you and your lady go out this evening?
Perhaps, the cat said, and Draeg took that for confirmation. He suppressed a gleeful smile of his own. He had a Fam who could keep an eye on the wandering duo of D’Yew and Baccat.
Yes, Corax whispered sibilantly in Draeg’s mind, on a private telepathic stream that had already formed between them. That will be fun. I can SEE much more than cat. Observe more.
You will be a great help to me, Draeg said, then amended that when he recalled watching Baccat and D’Yew, and others with their Fams. WE will be a great TEAM.
Yes.
Returning to the discussion of My territory here, Baccat nattered. If anything, the rulers here are the older members of the Yew Family, she who calls herself the Housekeeper and he who is styled as the maître de maison, and the Residence, of course, but he is not mobile.
New information! “He?” questioned Draeg. “The Residence considers itself male?”
A lift of the nose and muzzle. As I understand the situation, the persona modeled after My FamWoman’s MotherSire remains in control.
Draeg winced. “The T’Yew who was killed by Tinne Holly’s HeartMate.” He paused. “They treated her ill.” Draeg had heard stories of DepressFlair bracelets put on a child bride, now Lahsin Holly, to control her. As soon as she’d reached adulthood at Second Passage, she’d run away. Tinne Holly went after her and found her.
That the arrogant T’Yew’s persona still held sway was bad news. Though, on the whole, it might be better than a persona of his daughter, the madwoman who’d been Loridana D’Yew’s mother.
Unless you are blood of the maître de maison, you are treated ill, the cat said. They kicked Me. The FamCat stared at Draeg, no doubt expecting some extreme reaction like he’d get from his FamWoman. When none came, Baccat switched his gaze to Corax. I strongly suggest, bird, that you do not enter the Residence through any open window. That being is sufficiently vile to drop a sill right on you and kill your feathered self.
Baccat snapped his teeth once and loudly as if in punctuation, and Corax screeched in Draeg’s ear, just as a shiver passed through his blood.
Then the FamCat jumped down and swaggered away from the pens. I will go talk to My friends, the feral cats of the Turquoise House—
Uh-oh; well, if Baccat didn’t know who Draeg was now, the cat would learn soon. Draeg’s brother Antenn Moss-Blackthorn lived in the Turquoise House, and the House itself chatted to Fams.
Then I will talk to the Sallows. The cat looked at Corax. Perhaps check your references, bird. Flicking his tail, he scrutinized the horses. And speak with the Sallows about these beasts. He paused, sniffed. They are looking better since My FamWoman has visited them.
All the animals reacted with cheerful snuffles when Baccat sent the image of D’Yew to them.
Without another word, tail waving, the FamCat strolled away. He could have teleported, but that wouldn’t show his disdain of Draeg and Corax and all the other lowly beasts as much; Draeg got that.
I could divebomb him, Corax said.
Draeg lifted his hand and gently swept fingertips down the bird. Not yet.
* * *
After lunch, Lori received permission to work with the horses for a couple of septhours. Those who formally oversaw the estate, Cuspid and Folia, seemed happy that she’d expressed the wish to concentrate on breeding stridebeasts and horses as a career, which would leave them in power.
The Residence considered her very young and yet in training.
Lori herself must determine whether to continue with her breeding program course or make it secondary to offering personal armor spells for sale, but plenty of time to consider that.
Testing her connection with her stridebeasts and her horses and finding the link with Ragan and Smyrna thin but strong, Lori ran to the area of the paddock and temporary corral. And stopped, gasping.
Before her, in the horse pen, stood Draeg Hedgenettle, with a big, black bird on his head.
Ten
Both man and bird turned their heads to stare at her, the bird lifting his wings.
Draeg smiled and Lori felt it deep inside, sending warmth to parts of her that she didn’t think about too much—or hadn’t before she’d seen him yesterday, kissed him last night, and the hot dream in the dark. Wisps of that dream slid through her mind, and she flushed. Perhaps he’d think she took on color because of the run.
Raising his elbow, Draeg held it out. “Please sit on my arm, Corax. I don’t think this perching on my head works well for us.”
The bird clicked its beak. As Lori drew closer, she figured that the thing must be a raven, an Earthan bird, and a good seventy centimeters long. It looked healthy, and the sun that finally broke through the clouds shone on its blue-black feathers.
“Apparently this raven is a friend of Smyrna’s and Ragan’s.” Draeg nodded to the horses. “He lived and bonded with them on the Alexanders’ estate and flew here to be with the horses.”
Lori spread her senses wide and felt the affection between the horses and the bird, a bond. “Of course,” she said softly. “Welcome, ah, GentleSir Raven.”
Clearing his throat, and with a wary look in his eye, Draeg said, “He, Corax, says he’d like to be my Fam, too.”
At that, Lori’s eyes widened. Draeg appeared stoic. Cuspid, the maître de maison, had told her the stableman had little Flair, which meant it could be a real strain to bond with a Fam companion. That, in turn, meant that Draeg had more psi power than he might have revealed to Cuspid. Lori was sure the rest of the Yews would prefer an outsider working for them to have minimal Flair.
They shared a glance and Lori recalled that he already knew a couple of her secrets. It would be good to have one of his. Tacitly agreeing to keep this knowledge to herself, she nodded and said lightly, “Greetyou, Corax.”
Greet, said the raven, hopping onto Draeg’s lifted elbow, then walking up to a shoulder that Lori noted was broad enough to easily accommodate the bird.
Baccat couldn’t perch on her shoulders unless she made an invisible shelf extending from one.
Though she wanted to touch her horses again, spend time with the new and fascinating beasts she’d wished to have for years, she went into the stridebeasts’ corral and said hello to each one of her animals by name, feeding each a small fruit treat. From the tenor of their minds, she sensed that they’d accept the horses into their herd. She let out a sigh of relief. It would be so much easier to travel with the animals if they thought they were one herd.
Then, finally, she could leave her stridebeasts. She walked from the paddock and into the pen, and the horses moved fast, crowding her, knocking her off her feet.
She fell backward and strong arms caught her, held her against an equally strong body. Corax screeched and flew to a fence rail as Draeg lifted her and paced away from the horses toward the corral gate.
Wonderful! She smelled him, Draeg. He smelled . . . a lot like the land around her, to be honest, surprising her. Cool and earthy, with promise of a quickening spring and hot summer. She swallowed. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been held other than the night before, but that included passion and this didn’t, really.
Perhaps the old stableman, long dead, had been the last to hold her when she’d been a child.
She’d never been held, or carried, by a man who thought of her as a woman. Heat radiated between them and she flushed.
He kept her against his chest, arms under her legs and behind her back, and didn’t seem to notice her height or her weight. He certainly didn�
��t use any Flair as they moved to an edge of the large circular pen.
Sensations flooded her, the solid muscle next to her side and in the arms that carried her, the close view of his square jaw and the slight bristles of his shaven face, darker than his regular skin. His nose appeared to have a slight bump in it she hadn’t noticed before, and she saw a white scarred knot just below his temple. His chest went up and down steadily; she seemed to pant, herself.
Every step he took caused heat to rise in her, and because she wanted to squirm, she stayed very still. Yes, she felt his warmth, hers, mingling with the sun to heat them both and radiate out into the day. She smelled him, and some of that earthiness must have come from a slight odor of sweat, and she got the idea that he’d been doing those training moves again, and the aroma of that exertion lingered. It certainly had a great effect on her.
She wanted to taste him again. This time do more than inhale the fragrance that had her mind reeling. This time she’d remember what he tasted like. This time she’d explore the texture of the skin on his cheek, his jaw, his neck with her tongue.
Her arms had naturally gone around his neck, and their balance together good. They fit.
Most incredible of all was the feeling of utter security in his arms. That seeped in even under the lust flickering inside her.
Finally the disturbed thoughts of the horses impinged on her brain. She looked to see that they’d fled to the far side of the pen and huddled together.
She stopped enjoying Draeg’s arms around her and stared at the mares. “They’re afraid.”
“Wha—?” asked Draeg. His voice sounded low, husky, and she naturally tightened her grip on him, and then the moment broke when the stridebeasts rustled in their corral, coming close to the pen and watching the horses. More, Lori’s nose twitched at an unfamiliar tinge in the air that she puzzled at, then identified as horse fear.
Reluctantly she shifted in Draeg’s arms, and he let her go slowly. Her body brushed against his as her legs lowered, and he groaned and her breath came short. All of him was so solid!
She stayed within the circle of his arms for long seconds, until a questioning sound came from one of the horses. Then she turned toward the animals, who appeared calmer. Ragan’s ears angled as if curious.
“They were afraid,” Lori repeated. “Perhaps because they thought they’d be hurt since they knocked me over. Do you think they were abused?” She swallowed. She didn’t like to think of abuse, because it dredged up too many feelings within her. She couldn’t allow herself to imagine animals being hurt. It could break something in her.
“I think they’re just skittish because they haven’t been around people lately. Their owner was old and I don’t believe she could attend to them well.”
“Oh.” Taking another pace away from Draeg, Lori focused on the horses. She clicked her tongue and patted a bag at her side. In a coaxing tone, she said, “Come here, ladies, I have treats for you, too.” Lori blinked when Draeg shuddered beside her.
Ragan and Smyrna paced toward her, were more delicate as they nudged her, their minds swimming with the images of apples, of pieces of raw sugar.
“Aarrrghkk!” Corax the raven whisked in front of her and landed on Smyrna’s head. I want a treat, too! I am a NEW Fam!
Lori chuckled. “Oh, a treat to welcome the new Hedgenettle Fam?”
“Forrr surrre,” the bird croaked aloud.
“I didn’t know ravens could talk.”
The bird just lifted his wings.
“I didn’t, either,” Draeg said. She’d felt him come up beside her, and now he stood nearer to her than she was accustomed to any human standing.
Apple, Corax said mentally. You have apple, FamWoman of snotty cat. I would like some. A pause and a snick of a beak. Please.
Lori hesitated. “Baccat was snotty to you?”
Draeg snorted. “Baccat’s feline, of course he’s snotty. I—” He stopped before he finished the sentence that had nearly poured from his mouth: I live with the Queen of Snotty. No, couldn’t say that about his stepfather GrandLord T’Blackthorn’s Fam, Drina. Instead Draeg said, “And, despite what Baccat denies, he’s territorial.”
“Not to mention that this beautiful Fam is a bird, and cats and birds . . .” Lori held out a piece of apple for the Fam.
Thanks, said Corax as he took the apple, then ate it.
“You’re welcome.”
Draeg said, “We will get you raw meat in a little bit.”
Thanks. I can hunt, but it is good to have a FamMan, maybe.
“I am sure it is.”
Lori blinked. “Now that Baccat is no longer staying at the stables, there may be rodents in there. I stocked the no-times in the stables and your apartment according to a list given to me, and I think there is raw meat in them.” She frowned, remembering. She’d worked with the Residence and Folia this morning on inventorying all the no-times in the house, renewing their spell energy, and her recollection of the stables storage units was foggy. “I’m sure I was allowed to put uncooked clucker, and perhaps furrabeast, in the no-times, in case another feral cat showed up to take care of any rodents.”
Draeg nodded. He smiled at Corax with affection and Lori’s chest tightened. No one smiled at her like that. A surprising need for such a smile shot through her. With a small, sighing breath, she set the want aside and turned back to the horses. “Now to say good morning to my beauties.” She walked toward the animals even as they stepped toward her, quietly, no jostling. Whatever the reason they might be wary of humans, she interested them. She sent more soothing energy. She had been surprised when she’d fallen, anxious about them stepping on her, but none of that had happened. In any event, with her and Draeg’s care, the horses would feel soon that they’d found safe haven.
For now, she fed them, stroked them, and as she did so, she let the stridebeasts know the reason the horses got extra attention was that they were new and scared. She checked the mares and saw that their minor sores had healed, and they looked better cared for, well groomed.
“You ride and train horses?” she asked Draeg.
“I’ve ridden more than trained, but yeah,” he replied. “Smyrna and Ragan, at one time, were well trained.”
Lori wondered how long ago that might be. Unlike native Celtan species, like stridebeasts, Earthan humans and animals had a longer life—and slower birthrate and more sensitivity to sickness. “Do you know how old they are?”
Draeg took halters that had been lying over the stridebeasts’ fence in the sun and put one on Smyrna, the other on Ragan. “The Sallows thought they were about forty. Still plenty of vim and vigor.” He patted Ragan’s withers, then went back to stroke Smyrna’s neck. Lori got the idea that he preferred Smyrna.
She’d have loved them if they’d been at the end of their lives, but knowing she’d have plenty of time with them pleased her. “That’s good.”
“Yes.” Then he projected an image of the horses saddled and in full harness. The beasts seemed to perk up.
His mental image had been quite clear. No, this was not a minor-Flaired man.
They worked with the horses on lunge lines in the temporary paddock, until Lori believed all four of them—humans and animals—had settled and felt well in tune. She’d followed Draeg’s instructions and actions and had had a good first lesson she wouldn’t forget.
Then Draeg said, “Let’s ride.”
Pleasure surged from all of them—the two horses and Lori. Draeg grinned and her heart lifted further. Even though he didn’t smile solely at her, but at the horses, too, she still got a portion of that smile and it sank into her . . . more deeply than it should, perhaps. She swung onto Ragan’s saddle, and though it wasn’t as intimate as the ride she and the horse had had the afternoon before, it seemed safer for them both.
Good to see my mare friends happy, said Corax the raven. He stretched his wings wide and Lori stared at the length of them and the big bird. I need more airtime in this new place, the bird comment
ed, and launched himself into the sky. Lori sensed the mixture of wild and groomed areas on the estate pleased him, and that he might visit the farm and see what leftovers he might find. Later, my FamMan.
Later, Corax.
Fare well, Corax, Lori sent.
I will.
Then the four of them, horses with riders, walked around the stables. Anticipation humming in her, Lori set them on the wide graveled way to the east and the back gate toward the strip of forested shared land between FirstFamily estates.
The main route was fine until they reached the dirt path she’d been using to the small northeast gate in the wall. She had kept the trail overgrown with bushes, but now she saw she’d have to either use Flair when she left with her animal Family, or clear the way with physical effort or Flair a few septhours before.
She’d thought the trail would be fine for a stridebeast one at a time, but even with her discreet trimming, it was too narrow. Good for her and Baccat, but not for a horse or stridebeast. She must revise her plans. Once more. She set her teeth and straightened her shoulders. She would not let anyone stop her.
Lori felt Draeg’s sideways glance even as the horses had slowed, then passed the small gap in the bushes that led to the old service gate that no one else used that she’d oiled and prepared. She knew what she had to do, and would do it.
“Hard to see that particular path,” Draeg said, and she tensed. She’d actually forgotten he’d found her out last night. How foolish and shortsighted! Short-memoried. His touch and his kiss had occupied a much more predominant place in her thoughts.
He’d caught her staring too long. “We shouldn’t take the horses through as it is,” he said gently.
As if she hadn’t already determined that on her own.
One of his brows had lifted. “Do you think to leave the estate and ride in Noble Country or the busier parts of Druida City?”
Her mouth dried. Why did he ask? Again she considered whether, somehow, her Family suspected she might leave, and have hired him to observe her. But no. Not one of her relatives would consider leaving the Residence, the stronghold of the estate, the civilized Druida City. She believed every one of them prized the status of belonging to a FirstFamily.
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