by Miles Owens
At first, Lakenna seemed puzzled. Then the skin around her mouth and eyes whitened. “What do you mean?”
Branor gave a half shrug. “Sometimes I . . . I have been able to—just on occasions, you understand . . . ” He stopped and fumbled for words. “I have read of similar giftings in the time of Destin Faber and the Founders. Recently, I have been able to see things inside people. Twice I have sensed a deep wound in you—”
“I am fine!” Lakenna hissed. Stiff-backed with indignation, she grabbed the edges of her cloak and strode to Munin. Picking up the reins, she whirled back around. “The spiritual gifts operate strongly among Albanes. I do not seek Keeper insights into my fail—. . . into my . . . ” Her face twisted, and for a moment Rhiannon thought the tutor verged on tears.
“No, no,” Branor pleaded. “You misunderstand me. I only wanted to—”
His words died as another cold ripple twisted through Rhiannon. This one was much stronger than the other two. Something vile raised the hackles on the back of her neck. Her stomach flopped one more time. She detected the hint of some foul odor. All her senses screamed that something was here that should not be.
She eyed Branor and Lakenna. They stood still as statues, faces pensive.
Rhiannon’s blood chilled when a dark spot high in the sky caught her eye. Though the distance was great, the unfurled wings and long neck were unmistakable.
“Father!”
They galloped down the rocky trail in a jostling bunch. Rhiannon, Lakenna, and Branor rode near the front with Tellan. Llyr had dropped back among the column, and Rhiannon heard his deep voice above the pounding hooves as he ordered the men to spread out.
Three horrors circled above them now, gliding effortlessly above the green foliage and blue granite peaks of the lower Fea Mountains. The beasts stayed well out of bow range but never out of sight.
Tellan searched the sky. “They know where we’re going,” he growled. One hand gripped the reins; the other was white-knuckled around his sword hilt. “Unless the herds have been scattered, Serous and Phelan should be over the next series of ridges. If the beasts are going to attack us, it would be better to do so before we join with the herders.” The lines around his mouth deepened. “Unless . . . ”
Rhiannon swallowed. Unless they are already dead, she finished. She too gripped her sword hilt with one hand in an effort to keep the scabbard from banging into Nineve’s side. Lakenna was not bouncing in the saddle as much. The hard gallop the horses were in, while much faster than a trot, was a smoother gait.
Two warriors rode in front of them and one on either side. All carried bows with nocked arrows. The four were the best archers the Rogoths had.
“How sure are you,” Tellan asked as they galloped, “that these things have not attacked the sheep again?”
Branor shortened his reins to hold back his fresh mount and glanced at Lakenna. “Not sure at all.” When she nodded agreement, he continued. “We were called to intense prayer the day before yesterday and have not been since. We felt their nearness today before they appeared, but that is all.”
“Are you two praying like you did?” Tellan lifted his chin sky-wards. “Will our arrows penetrate these things?”
A guilty look flashed across Lakenna’s face. “I pray continually. But the same hindrance I felt before is still there.”
Tellan halted their charge to allow the reserve to catch up.
Lakenna’s expression firmed. “I am certain your association with the Broken Stone Land pagans is influencing this somehow and placing Rhiannon in greater risk. Like this Keeper Alock that Branor has told us about, Stanus Albane was adamant that all who enter into spiritual warfare must renounce any taint of the Mighty Ones.”
Tellan scowled. “We are cheated for years by clansmen who only claim to follow the Eternal, who themselves trade with pagans, and it is fine. When finally we receive a fair price, it is wrong?”
“I don’t understand all the ramifications, m’lord,” Lakenna said, gripping her reins tightly. “The Covenant protects us, but dealing with pagans seems to remove that covering somehow and greatly weakens our ability to fight the evil of the Mighty Ones.”
“If you are correct about Maolmin, then why was he so upset about my dealing with the Broken Stone? His displeasure seemed to go beyond any potential harm with his bargaining with the other clans. If indeed being associated with pagans weakens us and strengthens him, he should have been pleased.”
Branor brought his eyes down from the circling horrors. “At the wool sale, remember how the High Lord mentioned that the Dinari used to serve the Mighty One of the North and that the Broken Stone Land still worships the Lady of the West? We know that in the time before the Covenant the Mighty Ones fought continually among themselves for supremacy. Most likely those rivalries exist today. It makes a certain sense that the siyyim inside Maolmin serves the North.” He regarded Tellan frankly. “The more the Dinari deal with the Broken Stone Land, the more it must strengthen the West.”
“And dealing with Maolmin and the Sabinis strengthens the North? Bah, Keeper! You talk in circles.”
“Like Lakenna, I do not understand it all. This much I do know: the Land resides under the protection of the Covenant, and as long as the Faber dynasty remains intact and the inhabitants overall remain faithful, the Mighty Ones are bound by it.” He lifted his chin to the winged horrors. “But more evil is loose in the Land than we have encountered in generations. At least one High Lord is indwelt by a siyyim, and who knows how far the Mighty Ones’ grip extends among the nobility.” Branor gestured to Rhiannon. “Your daughter has been called to protect the Covenant and to lead a rebirth of its fullness. And yet you have become a partner with the very evil she will be fighting.” Branor straightened in the saddle. “I ask you formally to renounce this agreement with Lord Gillaon and his Broken Stone partner.”
Tellan urged his mount into a gallop again and the group followed, armor and tack jingling and clapping. “You pray so we can kill these things,” he said. “I will deal with trade matters.”
“Our prayers are hinder—”
“Later, Keeper! Even if I should desire to break those trade agreements, I can hardly do so here and now.”
They pounded around a bend in the trail. Before them rose a high ridge with many half-buried boulders. On the other side of the ridge, Serous, Phelan, and the sheep were supposed to be waiting.
Rhiannon looked up—and startled when she realized the three horrors were lower. More, their wings were tucked.
They were diving straight at them.
Chapter Twenty-six
LAKENNA
“DISMOUNT!” TELLAN ORDERED as he pulled his stallion into a skidding stop. Munin came to a smooth stop without Lakenna doing anything but what she had been doing since this agonizing day began—holding on with both hands.
She glanced up quickly. The three horrors were dropping toward them at an alarming rate. They were much the way she had pictured them from descriptions and images on tapestries: sleek bodies, pointed wings like a hawk, long serpentine necks, wedge-shaped heads. Sunlight sparkled off their smooth skin. In spite of her thudding heart and the nausea in the pit of her stomach, she found the diving horrors strangely beautiful—
Strong hands lifted her out of the saddle and set her unceremoniously on the ground. “Come, Teacher,” Branor said. “We must pray.”
Warriors scrambled all around them. Every fifth man held his horse and four of his mates’ horses. Men jammed arrows in the ground next to their feet for quick access, then stood and faced the oncoming beasts, bows in hand, arrows nocked and ready.
Rhiannon! Lakenna worried. Where is she? Then she saw the girl surrounded by the four who had ridden at the head of the column—the four best Rogoth archers. Rhiannon had drawn her sword. She held it in both hands, point up, her eyes on the horrors that were hurtling closer!
Branor’s hand almost crushed hers. “Teacher, I need help!” he gasped. “It is much worse than bef
ore.” His brow knitted in concentration.
Chagrined, she joined him in prayer—
And was shocked at the barrier she slammed into. All morning as she had prayed, or tried to, she had felt it growing: a hindrance like slogging through dank, foul-smelling water. Now, she could sense that thing she needed to come to grips with—but she could not get to it!
She felt Branor hammering away desperately even as she redoubled her efforts. They made painfully slow progress, and Lakenna knew they needed more help. She opened her eyes and looked at Rhiannon. The girl had sensed the approach of the beasts. Lakenna opened her mouth to ask Rhiannon to join them when the diving horrors let loose a series of ear-piercing screeches that shattered the morning.
Pandemonium broke loose. Horses reared, eyes wide in terror. Many broke free from their holders and dashed among the warriors. The men who managed to keep a grip on the reins were dragged into the milling mass of bodies and trampling hooves.
Fast-moving shadows obscured the sky. The horrors broke off their dive and spiraled over them, shrieking. The wind of the horrors’ wings beat at Lakenna. A bolting horse slammed against her side. She lost her hold on Branor’s hand as they both were knocked to the ground. Screams from the circling beasts added to the neighing of terrified horses.
“Loose!” Tellan bellowed as he drew his sword. “On your feet, men. Draw and loose!”
Lakenna came to her hands and knees, gasping for breath, mind spinning. Looking up, she saw the horrors at treetop level, wings beating furiously. A ragged volley of arrows sped up. A chill passed through her when she saw them bounce harmlessly off the light-colored underbellies.
Our prayers aren’t working this time! What are we to do?
Two horrors banked lower, no more than the height of two men above the ground. With jaws parted, each spewed forth a long, jagged tongue of flame. Two lines of fire ran across the green grass at amazing speed. Caught by surprise, warriors rolled and cartwheeled out of the way. Two men ran smack into each other. Stunned, they were unable to dodge the line of flame that washed over them. Clothes afire, they ran screaming until tackled by quick-thinking companions and rolled in the dirt to douse the flames.
The third horror swooped down and unfolded its long rear legs to land in the mist of the scrambling mass. Screeching, it darted forward cat-quick and seized a hapless victim between its jaws. The man’s scream was abruptly silenced with a sickening crunch of bones. The beast flung the body away, then turned back with wings unfurled for balance and a huge ball bulging behind the head. Lakenna watched numbly as its head lowered and the mouth opened to reveal a double row of bloodstained teeth. Men broke and ran.
“The eyes,” Tellan directed, sprinting up. He grabbed a fleeing bowman and spun him around. “Stand and shoot! Aim for the eyes!”
His presence rallied them. At almost point-blank range, the warriors stood, drew bowstrings back and sent arm-long shafts toward the beast. At least one found its mark. The horror jerked up with a blood-curdling scream, a feathered end of an arrow in one eye.
Men scrambled to avoid being crushed as the beast collapsed. A shaft of fire billowed out its mouth at it hit the ground, blackening the grass. The body seemed to shimmer for a moment, then crumbled inward to become a cloud of dust scattered in the wind of wings as the other two horrors beat upward in the sky and disappeared over the ridge.
Coming shakily to her feet, Lakenna gave a quick glance at the twisted body of the warrior and wanted to cry. More deaths will follow unless we can overcome this hindrance.
Everyone stood still for a long moment. Then all began talking at once: loud, relieved. Several debated hotly whose shot had hit the eye.
“Enough!” Llyr’s voice cut through the babble like a dash of cold water. He limped up from the area where most of the trampling from the loose horses had taken place. “I’ll hear no arguing over this. Neither will I hear arguing over who turned backsides to these things, intending to leave poor Dar unavenged before Lord Tellan rallied us.” His eyes were fierce enough to bore holes in wood. The men hung their heads and avoided the rhyfelwr’s gaze.
Llyr let the uncomfortable silence last a moment longer. “Still,” he continued in an even tone, “we did ourselves proud. We killed one and ran the others off. Not bad. Next time, if we can handle the horses better, not one of these things will fly away.” The men raised their heads and squared their shoulders. “I want ten men to stand guard with bows. Those of you who have horses, go round up those that broke loose. The rest see to those that got burned or come with me to tend to Dar.”
Everyone moved smartly to obey. Once the body was wrapped in a blanket, the Keeper left to say rites. Lakenna followed and stood at the back of the gathering, feeling out of place. Rhiannon stood next to her father in front of the wrapped body. After Branor finished, Tellan said a few words. Dar’s body was tied on to his horse to be brought back and buried.
By the time the stray horses were brought back, it was past noon. Tellan ordered a quick meal.
Lakenna was not hungry. She took a blanket and folded it several times to make a pad. Placing it in front of a chest-high rock covered with brown moss, she sat down and winced. She fought the urge to rub her buttocks. Soon she was going to have to get back in that saddle.
“Undirected,” a low voice said.
Lakenna started. “What?”
Branor gathered his black robe and sat down cross-legged in front of her. “This attack. It must’ve been undirected. The horrors acted like wild beasts. If a demon had been directing them, they would not have stopped.” He regarded her frankly, his dark eyes alive as he worried with it. “We did no good just now. If they attack at night, and you and I cannot fight past that barrier, this will seem like an afternoon stroll.”
She had no answer to that. Then she noticed he was looking at her that way again! I don’t need this! She steeled herself and returned his look evenly.
His eyes dropped. He pulled at a blade of grass. “I spoke out of turn about the hurt I see in you. This is new to me. I only want to be of help, if you will allow it.”
Anger flared. “I do not need Keeper help! We Albanes have people who can see my . . . ” She looked away.
“Sin,” he finished softly.
“I am indwelt by the Eternal,” she said firmly. “I am forgiven.” Unaccountably, tears flooded her eyes. “I am.” She wiped her eyes. “I don’t need anything from you.”
“Whatever you have done, I have done much worse.” Branor leaned toward her, his eyes sad. “Many years ago, the wisest man I know told me that those the Eternal calls for great duties, he first breaks. That way they know to rely on his strength and not their own.” His voice thickened. “I ran from my breaking, and five good men are dead because of it. When I was forced to face that—forgiven though I was—it broke something in me.” He paused. “I sense a similar running in you.”
As she struggled to keep her face bland, the bitter taste of Old Tanny’s herbal tea flooded her mouth. She swallowed twice in an effort to be rid of it.
He gestured to where Rhiannon stood talking to her father and Llyr. “Her prophecy is about the Covenant. I fear some problem within the Faber dynasty has weakened the protection of the Covenant to allow the Mighty Ones to loose so many winged horrors.” He shook his head. “This is far beyond any Keeper-Albane rivalry. Great events are afoot, and the Eternal has placed you and me in the very center of it.”
Branor’s look of compassion deepened. “Please stop running, dear woman. Too much is at stake. Something very powerful happens when one believer looks another in the face and confesses sin. Whether with me or someone else, do whatever is necessary to keep from bearing that burden any longer.”
Lakenna sat stiff as the rock she leaned against. What would people think of her if she confessed as Branor suggested? She did not have beauty like Rhiannon or position like Branor. Being admired as an Albane of Albanes was what she had clung to all the years of no suitors and diminishing prospects. I
f she admitted that she had willfully committed the most grievous of sins, she could no longer wear that badge. What would be left?
Only a sinner saved by the unearned love of the Eternal. Isn’t that what true Albanes believe?
She wasn’t ready for this right now.
“Tell me what you felt during our prayer,” Branor inquired.
“I could sense . . . ” Lakenna said slowly, grateful for the change of subject as she searched for words to explain the unworldly. “I sensed the demon—perhaps—anyway, whatever we needed to bind. But I could not get to it.”
Branor grunted. “For me it was like a bad dream where I knew I had to reach something, but my legs and arms felt like lead.”
“I didn’t encounter that the first time.” She pondered. “This hindrance the last two times must be the effect of Tellan’s alliance with the pagans.” Discernment surged, and she understood with a clarity that was startling. Her words tumbled out as she tried to keep pace with her new insight. “We’re fighting through the West’s presence! Tellan’s agreement with the Broken Stone Land has tied him to the West, and now we’re having to wade through that to get to the North!”
“Of course,” Branor said softly. “Just as the North, through Maolmin, is seeking to prevent Rhiannon from walking in the prophecy, the West, through this wool deal, is seeking the same. And all of it is coming to a head just when Rhiannon is stepping into adulthood.”
Men began kicking out cook fires and tying gear back on horses. Branor came to his feet and held out a hand. Lakenna took it and felt his strength as he pulled her up. They both turned and looked for Rhiannon. She was tightening Munin’s girth.
Lakenna gritted her teeth and began walking determinedly toward that unbelievably hard saddle.
“I wonder,” Branor said quietly as he walked beside her, “how many more will have to die before Tellan is convinced of the danger he has brought to his daughter?”
They crested the ridge, and Lakenna sagged with relief. Down the slope, masses of sheep covered the huge meadow as it stretched into the distance. Shepherds moved calmly among the herd.