by Alisha Basso
“Hang on!” She wheeled Pindar then pulled up short. Three stood behind them. A hiss sounded near her ear. Malek’s arrow hit one in the chest.
She dug in her heels, turned Pindar toward camp, and fumbled for her stave. Malek let go another shot. How many were there? Four more soared over a foothill.
Too many.
Pindar swerved around those in front and flattened his ears. He bit a bird-man on the shoulder and flung it to the ground. Lauren dropped the reins and slammed her stave into one with a sickening crack. The dog-lion kept pace, dragging them out of the air and ripping their throats.
“We’re going to run for it.”
Pindar didn’t need to be told twice. Malek held tight as the big horse jumped forward into gallop. The high keeeyerr of the yekerk sounded all around them. Flying bird-men swooped in like hunting hawks.
Leinos, Pheeso, Artepa, and Armody sprinted toward them. For a moment, she thought they’d make it, but more of the attackers flew in front of the others, cutting them off.
Leinos thrust his palm forward and a bright flash of light brought a dozen yekerk flopping to the ground.
Wing beats shuddered over her shoulder. Pindar scooted sideways to get out from under the thing and Malek tumbled to the ground. She grabbed a handful of mane and spun the horse. A yekerk lunged for the boy a few strides back. She kicked Pindar, trampling the monster under his sharp hooves.
She circled Malek. “Grab my hand!”
He reached.
She overshot.
“Come on.” She made another pass, leaned down, caught Malek’s collar, and flung him behind her. She’d lost track of the dog-lion, the creature that was helping.
The others engaged the flying creatures. Without losing momentum, she rushed into the fray. Talons raked at them. She let go of the reins again and swung her stave like a baseball bat. It connected and a monster dropped. On the other side, Pindar lashed out with a lightening kick, breaking another in half. Still, more came.
Red feathers drifted through the air. And blood. So much blood. The others fought through, staves swinging. A few bird-men began flying up the mountainside.
Leinos pursued them. “They must not escape!”
Pheeso grabbed Malek’s crossbow, and dropped a bird into the brush. Leinos and Artepa continued running.
“Stay with the Horsecaller,” someone yelled to Armody.
Lauren clung to Pindar’s neck and forced him away from the fight. He struggled with her, then faltered and stumbled. Before she knew what was happening, his legs buckled, and they were all on the ground. He rolled with a groan. Malek jumped clear but Lauren’s foot caught. She swore and yanked it out of her boot before fifteen hundred pounds of thrashing horse came to rest on it.
“Pindar? What’s wrong?” She shouted past her own ragged breaths. Three bloody gashes across his flank. No. She tore off her over-shirt and pressed it against the bleeding.
“Malek!” The boy picked himself up and rushed over. “Keep pressure on this.”
She jerked at the girth, threw the saddle to the side, knelt by Pindar’s head, and rubbed his face and ears. “He’s so cold.”
The others were in the foothills. Shouting. Yekerk screeching. More flashes.
Silence.
Malek asked, “Shall I rub his legs?”
What good would it do? It couldn’t hurt. She nodded and watched the boy slowly, gently, stroke the horse down the length of one leg. She gestured Armody over. The girl took over rubbing the horse’s ears. Lauren removed the makeshift bandage. The cuts oozed a blackish liquid that smelled of yekerk—that gagging scent of burning rubber. They needed water, antiseptic, anything to make this better. She’d even welcome Vraz. But he had left them for a big sage meeting in Elaz, the place they called home.
She breathed deeply and worked to control herself, trying to focus, wiping tears from her face and waiting. And praying. To God. To The All. To anyone listening. Pindar had to be okay. What would happen if he wasn’t okay? He would be okay.
Love or fear. No fear during the attack. Her body had acted without the aid of her mind and in perfect sync with the horse. That’s what it seemed like, anyway. He had been fearless, too. She didn’t like to hurt anything and had never killed more than an insect before. Surely she wasn’t expected to love the yekerk? No. What she felt for them was something else entirely.
What was taking the others so long? Had it been a minute? Fifteen? She couldn’t tell. Pindar coughed. Armody lifted her hands. The horse folded his legs as though he might get up, then shook his head, flopping his mane from side to side.
Thank you, Goddess. Lauren went limp with relief.
“He needs to sit for a moment,” Malek said.
So did she.
Artepa returned at a run.
“Are you are all right, Horsecaller?” she asked, struggling to catch her breath.
“Pindar is hurt.” She turned to the boy, not sure what she expected from him. “Malek?”
He lifted his eyes, but they were unfocused, the usual sky blue of them turned to cobalt. “He will be all right.”
Lauren caught Artepa’s eye. Clearly the older woman thought the boy’s behavior unusual as well.
“Do you mean Pindar?” Lauren asked. She wanted to believe him, but… “How do you know?”
He blinked, looked fully at her. “I know.”
And then he went back to stroking the horse. The wounds had stopped oozing and the smell had gone. There was no swelling. Had Malek done this? He must have, but…were they all healers?
While they waited for Pindar to recover, Pheeso returned and built a fire. He gave Lauren one dark look that spoke volumes. This was her fault.
Soon, Leinos returned, smeared with blood.
“Well?” Pheeso and Artepa both asked.
Leinos didn’t answer them. He turned to Lauren. “Are you and Pindar all right?”
“He will be fine,” Malek reiterated.
Leinos studied the boy for a long moment, then returned his gaze to Lauren.
She shrugged. “He’s right. I don’t know how, but Pindar seems to be recovering quickly.”
“One yekerk might have escaped,” Leinos said, his voice weary.
“Meaning?” Lauren asked.
“Meaning,” he explained, “someone seeking evidence of your existence will soon have it.”
Chapter 15
LEINOS had to get Lauren away from here, and fast. He turned to the others including the boy in the sweep of his gaze. “See to the bodies.”
They did his bidding without comment. Lauren knelt at Pindar’s side and busied herself undoing the bridle. Her hands trembled. Leinos knew the import of the attack was settling over her. The horse got to his feet.
“You defended yourself well, Pindar.” Leinos stroked the gray’s neck. “And you, too,” he added, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Shaking racked her body. He pulled her to him, eased out of his shirt and wrapped her in it. How long she leaned against his chest and sobbed, he did not know. He could hold her forever. Once calm, he took her face and brushed away her tears.
“What do they want?” she asked.
“They are said to have a taste for horse blood and take orders from anyone who feeds them. Vraz believes a sage named Rezol sent them looking for you. Rezol serves King Rast and no longer abides by the code set out by the first-degree sage. King Rast would see Cirq vanquished for good.”
She nodded. “They want to kill me so I can’t call the horses.”
He expected to see fear in her eyes, but the knowledge instead seemed to arouse her commitment. He could see some internal decision being made as she nodded.
“You have the right of it,” he said. The others had finished their work. “We must move on.”
She changed into her spare shirt and returned his, and they were on their way. Lauren saddled Pindar, but led him instead of riding.
They moved quickly, but not quickly enough. The plain left them exposed.
He did not want to push her or the horse. If she would mount, they could move faster, but Lauren had turned within, so for now, he would leave her be. Malek had healed the horse. He would need training, but this would have to wait.
They followed an unseen path, one he could traverse in his sleep. Artepa and Pheeso bickered, as was their way. It almost made him smile. He loved them but wished for quiet. Dipping into the deepest reservoir of his power to fight the yekerk had depleted even him, and he looked forward to reaching the inn and a real bed. They should have been able to stop that last yekerk. Perhaps they were getting old. Perhaps he should request to be disrequired.
“The Horseguard should have been here,” Artepa insisted for the fourth time from his left. “Why did you have them stop at the inn? With twenty more warriors we could have prevented the last one from escaping.”
From his right, also for the fourth time, Pheeso muttered, “That useless bunch of over-soft warriors—”
“They will barely make it to the inn before us as it is,” Leinos said. He didn’t want Lauren to hear anything bad about the people she would command. He had yet to fully explain the power and importance of her position.
“Ordering the Horseguard to the inn for a meeting will not raise suspicions. Having them continue north to an unknown destination risked too much speculation.”
Leinos glanced over his shoulder. Lauren’s face held nothing of the radiance from the night before when she returned from the spring. If she heard their conversation, she did not show it. He should have told her more before now. The sooner they arrived at the inn and met with the Horseguard, the better. He dropped back to walk beside her, but did not speak, hoping his silence would draw her out. It took some time, but worked.
“Right before the attack,” she said. “There was something—an animal—big and gold colored. I don’t know what it was, but I think it was friendly. It killed a few yekerk before you got there.”
Artepa stopped. “That sounds like a frit.”
“A frit?” Pheeso said. “No such thing.”
They fell to arguing about the existence of the legendary creature, and Leinos feared his head would explode. He hoped when they reached the ancient Inn of the Crossroads, that his old friend, innkeeper Belenn, still had masava in stock, the brew he saved for special occasions.
“I saw it,” Lauren said. “Malek did, too.” She turned to the boy who had been walking behind Pindar with Armody. “Tell them.”
“Never seen one, but that is how my mam described them when she told stories.”
“It had to be a frit,” Artepa said. “Nothing else fits. Bands of them used to protect the horses.”
“And where were they when the army of Tinnis attacked ours?” Pheeso demanded. “It is also said frits hunt yekerk. Why did they let the yekerk all but destroy our herds?”
Leinos could no longer take the squabbling. “It is said the frits thought they were no longer needed because people were caring for the horses.”
“People did not like frits,” Malek said. “They chased them away.”
They all stared at the boy.
“It is what my mam always said.”
“Pah,” Pheeso grumbled. “They never existed.”
“They exist,” Lauren said. “And they want the horses’ forgiveness.”
They all stared at her.
She lifted her shoulders, dropped them heavily. “I saw what I saw.”
Leinos directed a stern look at Pheeso, and the older man did not further gainsay the Horsecaller. They continued in silence until it grew dark, their slow pace across the open plain and the constant watchfulness for more yekerk making him want to strangle someone. They would not camp in the open. Not after this second—third, counting Steepside—attack. They would push on until they reached the inn.
It seemed the horse shared his uneasiness and impatience because he had been increasingly twitchy the farther they went. Lauren tried to calm the big animal, but her heart wasn’t in it. Her eyes were half closed, and she fidgeted as well, as if the touch of her clothing irritated her skin. Finally, she stopped.
“I have to see what’s bothering him.”
Leinos and the others stood well back as she removed the saddle to check underneath. Pindar could not keep still. She ran her hand over his back and sides. He swung his haunches, nearly stomping the saddle.
“I can’t find anything wrong.” She removed his halter and let him go.
She was letting him go in the Resting Plains in the dark?
Pindar circled them once, then tore off, whinnying as he went. Malek ran to follow, but stopped a little way along, gaze remaining on the horse until he disappeared.
Lauren watched too, then dropped the halter and lead rope with a gasp and pressed the heels of her hands deep into her eye sockets. “Nooooo.” She moaned. “There is great suffering here,” she cried. “What is this place?”
Leinos caught her before she fell flat. She drew her knees into her chest with a sob. Fear shot through him, and he looked to Artepa and Pheeso while he held the Horsecaller and summoned his power again.
“It hurts,” she rasped. “What’s wrong with me?”
Chapter 16
LEINOS cast his gaze around, alert for threats, and the others took up defensive positions, staves and crossbows ready.
“Lauren! What is it?” He turned her toward him.
“Get away.” She swung wildly, landing a loose punch to his jaw.
He grabbed her wrists, gently restrained her arms, and she went limp. What, in the name of Goddess?
With a growing sense of unease, he slipped his arms beneath her shoulders and knees, picked her up, and began walking. What could they do except keep moving toward the inn?
“No,” she said again, then arched in his arms. She shook her head, opened her eyes, squeezed them shut. He lowered her to the ground.
“Here,” she whispered. “It happened here.”
Sorrow etched her face, shadows gathered behind her eyes as she searched for answers. She knew, but how she had felt or seen, he could not fathom.
“The horses died here,” she said. She let tears flow, then rolled away, shakily getting to hands and knees. “Thousands of yekerk. My God.” She tenderly patted the ground that had absorbed the life of the horses, soothing their pain, wiping away the stains of history. Then, she sat back on her heels, wiped her face, and looked at her companions with desolate expectation.
“Yes,” Leinos said. “Here is where the horses lived, where many died, and where they are buried.” He pointed east, into the dark, where he knew a large mound softened the plain’s flat profile.
“I must go there,” she said.
Going to the resting place would take time they could ill afford. Each delay cost more horse’s lives. But she was the Horsecaller, and she knew this as well as he.
“As you wish,” he said. “I believe Pindar may already be there.”
She gazed in the direction he had pointed and nodded. “He feels it too.”
For long moments, she said nothing.
“It was as if I was here when it happened,” she began.
Her chin trembled and her voice quivered. Leinos almost ordered her to stop, almost took her in his arms but sensed she would push him away. But she gathered her strength and resolve.
This, and more.
“I heard their screams. Felt fear and pain, saw them stumbling, mothers trying to help babies—”
She slumped and buried her face in her hands.
“I watched…the blood…I didn’t help,” she sobbed. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You could do nothing, k’varo risa. This happened long ago.”
After a moment, she used her stave to pull herself up, retrieved Pindar’s tack, and began walking toward the burial mound. Leinos hesitated, thinking again of the urgency of their mission.
To the others, he said in a low voice, “Go to the inn. If we are not there by morning, bring the Horseguard.”
They had to drag Malek away, but they went, and picked up a slow run, a gait they could maintain all night across the edge of the flat plain. He followed Lauren, their packs and a fur slung over his shoulder.
They walked without a break, even when freezing rain stung their skin with needle-sharp pricks. He let her set the pace and the tone, leaving her to her thoughts. Sometimes, the white flowers left behind by the horse led the way, sometimes, their path veered from his.
The air warmed and rain soaked them, then the storm blew away and the moons rose, the first time the skies had cleared in this area for many seasons.
On the horizon, Leinos could make out the soft outline of the burial place, growing larger with each step. And on the ground, white flowers glowed, illuminating a corona of green encircling each stem. The closer they came to the mound, the larger these circles grew, until some even connected.
The land here, here where the horses lived and died…would it be the first to recover?
They all knew stories of the war. But how had Lauren seen it? Lived it? Even he could not relieve her of the terrifying thoughts and images, but he would make sure she understood what happened in this place so long ago had nothing to do with her.
When they reached the final resting place, she dropped her things, walked a short way up the slope and knelt, then lay down and put her heart and one cheek against the ground. He followed.
She closed her eyes. “The horses. So angry. Who could blame them? Murdered or sent away and uncalled for so long. They loved Cirq. And no one spoke their names. Many are at sea.”
Leinos stretched his energy into the ground but heard nothing. He extended his energy toward her but was repelled. Did she even realize she had drawn a protective shield around herself?
“Can you feel it?” she asked.
“Only more cold and wet seeping through to my skin.”
“Are their names listed somewhere? I must speak them so they can rest.”