And suddenly her little finger of thought was seized and held in a desperate mental grip.
Blessed Agnira! Panic gave her strength she didn't know she had. She snatched her mind away, and lay facedown in the leaves, heart pounding wildly with fear. Her first, panicked thought was that it was the priestess; her second, that it was some other mage down below there. But there was no sign of disturbance in the camp, and no one shouted a warning or pointed in the direction of her hiding place. She throttled down her panic, and extended her probe a second time, "looking" for the presence that had seized her.
It snatched for her again, a little less wildly, but no less desperate.
:Who are you?: she thought, forming her statement clearly, as Warrl had taught her.
:Eldan. Who are you? I thought I was the only one out here!:
:Kerowyn—:
:You have to help me get loose,: he demanded, interrupting her, his mental voice shaking, but firm beneath the fear. :I've got to get back to report!:
:Fine,: she told him. :What's it worth to you? Or should I say, to Valdemar?:
That stopped him. :What?: He seemed baffled rather than shocked. He literally did not understand what she meant; that was crystal clear from his thoughts.
:What is it worth to you to be freed? How much,: she repeated patiently. :Money, my friend. What's the reward for getting you loose? I'm not in this for my health. There're easier ways of making a living.:
:I—: he faltered, :I—I thought you were a Herald—:
Silence then, as he began to take in the fact that she plainly was something else.
:Obviously not, friend. To clarify things for you, I'm a professional soldier. A mercenary. Now do you want me to get you free, or not?: She couldn't resist a little barb. :Those irons are going to be very hot in a moment.:
She waited for him to respond, and it didn't take long. He named a figure. She blinked in surprise; it was more than she would have considered asking, and she would have expected to be bargained down. Either he's more important than I thought, or he has an inflated opinion of his own worth. Either way, I'm holding him to it.
:Bond on it?: she asked.
He gave his bond, seeming a little miffed that she'd asked. :My Companion will help you on this, too,: he added.
Well, that only bore out everything Tarma had told her about the spirit-horses. :All right—: she said, and noted that he seemed a little surprised that she took that last so calmly. :Here's what we'll do....:
The Karsites had counted on the fact that they were in a blind canyon to protect them from attack on three of the four sides, and probably were assuming that since the canyon was thickly wooded, that would make fighting difficult for an opponent. But while the slope Kero was hidden on was indeed steep, it was not too steep for a Shin'a'in warsteed. And she had trained in the woods.
They charged "silently," without a cry, Kero knowing that the Karsites would not recognize the crashing of her horse through the underbrush for an attack until it was too late. She had her bow out, and neither her aim nor her arrows had suffered from lack of practice. The enemy fighters silhouetted themselves most considerately against the fire; she picked off four of the Karsite guards, two of them with heart-shots and two through the throat, while still on the way in.
Already battle fever had her, and her world narrowed to target; response. There was no room for anything else.
Meanwhile, commotion at the mouth of the canyon signaled the Companion's charge. Kero had felt a little guilty about putting the unarmed horse there, but the Companion was not going to be able to cut Eldan free, and she was.
Hellsbane skidded to a halt beside the kneeling Herald, and Kero swung her leg over the saddle-bow and vaulted off her back, letting off another arrow and getting a fifth score as she did so.
Weeks spent behind the Karsite lines had given her a rough command of their language; she heard the shouts, and realized that from the plurals being used that they had mistaken the gray warsteed for a white Companion, and herself for another Herald—it would have been funny, if she'd had any time to think about it.
She slashed at the Herald's bonds, while the Companion charged down and trampled two more Karsites in his way, and Hellsbane reared on her haunches and bashed out the brains of a third. The ropes to his ankles and wrists were easy enough to handle, but just as she was getting ready to saw at the thongs binding Eldan's arms to the log, two more of the Karsites rushed her. She tossed a knife at the Herald's feet while parrying the first Karsite's rather clumsy attack. He was easily dispatched, but his friend arrived, and another with him—
Hellsbane got there first, half-reared and got the first from behind, and the Companion fought his way to the Herald's side. Now at least she didn't need to worry about having to guard him while he cut himself free.
She thought she'd been hit a couple of times, but the wounds didn't hurt. Since they weren't slowing her down, she ignored them as usual. The horses were doing the job of four or five fighters, charging and trampling every sign of organization and scattering people before them like frightened quail—and Kero began to think this was going to work—
Then she wheeled to face an opponent she sensed coming up behind her—
And her sword froze her in mid-slash.
The new opponent was the warrior-priestess. A woman. And Need would not permit her to carry out her attack.
LetmegoyoustupidBITCHofahunkoftin! she screamed mentally at the blade, seeing her death in the smiling eyes of the priestess, in the cruel quirk of her lips, in the slow, preparatory swing of the priestess' mace—
Then a tree limb swung down out of the gathering darkness, and with a resounding crack, broke in half over the woman's head.
The priestess dropped the mace, and fell to the ground like a stone.
Need let Kero go, muttering into the back of her mind in sleepy confusion, then subsiding into silence. "Thanks," she told the Herald, with all the sincerity she could manage.
"Anytime," he replied, grinning.
But there were still far too many Karsites in this camp, and the stunned disbelief that took them when their leader went down wasn't going to last much longer.
Kero made a running jump for Hellsbane's saddle, vaulting spraddle-legged over the mare's rump and landing squarely in place. The Herald followed her example a half breath behind.
And she couldn't help it—she indulged in a bloodcurdling Shin'a'in war-cry as they thundered out the canyon mouth, running over two more Karsites who weren't quick enough to get out of the way.
Let 'em figure that out.
"Have we gone far enough, do you think?" she asked Eldan wearily, about a candlemark before dawn.
"I certainly hope so," he replied, his voice as dull and lifeless as hers. "And I doubt very much they're going to follow our trail. Where in Havens did you learn all that? That trail-muddling stuff, I mean,"
"It's my job," she reminded him, and looked up at the sky, critically. There were still stars in the west, but the east was noticeably lighter above the thick pines. It was time to find somewhere to hide for a while.
"We need a cave, or a ledge overhanging some bushes, or something," she continued. "We're going to need to hide for at least two days, maybe three, maybe more, so it's going to have to stand up to some scrutiny. I want a cave, I really do."
He looked bewildered, and not particularly happy. "Two days? Three? But—"
She cut him short. "I know what you're thinking. Trust me on this one. I'm hurt, you're hurt, and the Karsites are going to expect us to make straight for the Border. We need time to recover, and we need time for our trail to age. If we hole up back here, and stay here, we'll get in behind them. They won't look for us to come from that direction."
Herald Eldan was hardly more than a dark shape against the lighter sky, and she realized that she really didn't know what he looked like. He shook his head dubiously, then shrugged. "All right, you obviously know what you're doing. You did get me out of there." He ges
tured grandly. "Lead on, my lady."
Ordinarily, that would have caused her to snap I'm nobody's lady, much less yours, but something about Eldan—an unconscious graciousness, a feeling that he'd treat a scullery maid and a princess with the same courtesy, made her smile and take the lead, afoot, with Hellsbane trailing obediently behind like an enormous dog.
She knew what she was looking for, when she'd started searching here among the cliffs off the road, following the barest of game trails, and she had the feeling she'd find it in these uneven limestone slopes. A cave. Somewhere they could hide and rest and not have to worry about searchers. Above all, though, their hiding place had to be big enough for the horses, too—maybe Eldan's Companion could make himself into a drift of fog and escape notice, but Hellsbane was all too solid.
She tried several places that looked promising, but none of them were near big enough. She began watching the sky with one anxious eye; the rising sun had begun to dye the eastern horizon a delicate pink, and once the Karsites had completed their morning devotions, the hunt would be well and truly up. There was one advantage; a small one. Bats would be returning to their lairs for the day, and bats meant caves.
There was a ledge—and she thought she saw a dark form flit under it.
She fumbled her way up to it, tired limbs no longer responding, reactions gone all to hell. Predictably, she tripped, completely lost her balance and grabbed for a bush.
She missed it entirely. She fell down the slope with a strangled cry, rolling over and over, landing in a tangle of bushes—
And falling through the clutching, spiky branches, into blackness with a not-so-strangled shriek. She got a face full of gravel, and rolled farther, finally hitting her head, and seeing stars for a moment.
She lay on her back in the darkness, her ears ringing, wondering what she was doing there.
"Kerowyn?"
She blinked, trying to remember where she was, and who that voice could belong to.
"Kerowyn?" The voice certainly sounded familiar.
She sat up, and her head screamed a protest—but it all came back. Eldan, the rescue—Right.
"I'm in here!" she cried, hearing her voice echo back at her from deeper in the darkness with an elation not even her aching head could spoil.
"Are you all right?" She looked in the direction of the voice, and saw a lighter patch in the dark. That must be the entrance, screened off by bushes so thick she hadn't even guessed it was there.
"Pretty much," she replied, getting carefully to her feet, and sitting right back down again, prudently, when her head began to spin. "Can you bring the horses in here? Right now my knees are a little shaky."
"I think so." There were sounds of someone thrashing his way through bushes, leaving, then returning. "It looks big enough. Hang on, I'm going to make a light."
She winced at the sudden flare of light, and looked away, toward the rear of the cave. Interestingly, she couldn't see an end to the darkness. When she looked back again, Eldan had a candle in one hand, and was leading Hellsbane in, the horse whickering her protest at being taken through scratchy bushes, but obeying him readily enough.
Which was a miracle.
"She should be breaking your arm, you know," she said conversationally, as Eldan coaxed the mare down the slippery gravel slope to the bottom of the cave. "She's trained not to obey anyone but me, or someone I've designated that she's worked with in my presence. She should be trying to kill you, or at least hurt you."
"One of my Gifts is animal Mindspeech," he said, just as casually. Then he dropped the reins, grinned at her thunderstruck expression, and scrambled back up the slope, leaving the candle stuck onto a rock.
"Oh," she said weakly to the mare. "Animal Mindspeech. Of course. I should have known...."
"Doesn't this hurt?" Eldan asked, peeling blood-soaked and dried cloth away from a slash on her leg. The wound wasn't deep, but it was very messy; she was bleeding like the proverbial butchered pig.
And now that they were safe, it definitely did hurt. Quite a bit, as a matter of fact.
"Yes," she replied, from behind gritted teeth. "It hurts."
"Then why don't you yell a little—it might do you some good."
"It isn't going to do any good to howl, much as I'd like to," she pointed out. "And there might be someone out there to hear me."
He sighed, and repeated what he'd just told her earlier. "One of my Gifts is animal Mindspeech, my lady. If there was anyone out there, the wild things would know it, and I'd know it. The only creatures that are going to hear you are some deer and a couple of squirrels."
"Call it force of habit, then," she replied, clenching her fists while he continued to clean the wound as he talked.
She'd already done the same service for him, finding mostly bruises, and a couple of nasty-looking cuts and burns where the priestess had tried a little preliminary "work" on him. He proved to be quite a handsome fellow; lean and muscular, a little taller than she was, with warm brown eyes and hair of sable-brown, but with two surprising white streaks in it, one at each temple. He had high cheekbones, a stubborn chin, and a generous mouth that looked as if he smiled a great deal.
"I don't think this needs to be stitched," he said, finally, "Just bandaged really well."
"That's a relief." She allowed herself to smile. "Thanks for taking care of everything. I'm sorry I had to find this place with my head."
Eldan had spent a couple of candlemarks pulling up armloads of grass and bringing it into the cave for the horses, then hunting up food for the humans. That was when he'd assured her that his Gift of understanding animal thoughts would keep him safe. Somehow she hadn't been too surprised that he'd brought back roots, edible fungus, and fish. Obviously if there was going to be any red meat or fowl brought in, she would have to be the hunter. And that would have to wait until tomorrow, since she'd managed to give herself a concussion when she fell.
But the ceiling of the cave was high enough that a fire gave them no problems, and the hot fish, wrapped in a blanket of clay and stuffed with the mushrooms, together with the roots roasted in hot ashes, tasted like the finest feast she'd ever had.
"How in the Havens did you ever become a mercenary?" Eldan asked, wrapping a bandage around her leg, and securing it.
"Sort of fell into it, I suppose," she replied. "I expect this is going to sound altogether horrible to you, but I happen to be good at fighting. And I didn't want the kinds of things considered acceptable for young ladies."
"Like husbands and children?" To her mild amazement, Eldan nodded. "My sister felt the same way. It's just that I can't imagine anyone with the Gift of Mindspeech being comfortable with killing people."
"I don't use it, much. The Gift, I mean. Wouldn't miss it if it got taken from me." She felt a little chill; Eldan was the only person besides Warrl to know about this so-called Gift, and the idea frightened her as nothing else in the past five years could. "Don't—let anyone know, all right?"
"There's no reason why I should," he assured her, and somehow she believed him. "But I must admit, I don't understand why you'd want to keep it secret if you don't use it that much."
"I live with mercenaries," she pointed out to him. "People who value their privacy, and who generally have secrets."
"Ah." He nodded. "Where, among the Heralds, such Gifts are commonplace, and we understand that one doesn't go rummaging about in someone else's mind as if it were a kind of old-clothes bin. There's a certain protocol we follow, and even the ordinary, unGifted people understand that in Valdemar."
For a moment she tried to imagine a place where that would be true, a land where she wouldn't be avoided for such an ability, or considered dangerous. She shook her head; places like that were only in tales.
"Well, we're different," he admitted. "Let me look at that slash along your ribs, hmm?"
She pulled off her tunic and pulled up her shirt without thinking twice about it; she'd have done the same with Tre or Gies, or Shallan. But when Eldan cl
eaned the long, shallow cut with his gentle hands, she found her cheeks warming, and she discovered to her chagrin that she found his touch very arousing.
That's not surprising, she rationalized. We both came very close to death back there. The body does that, gets excited easily, after being in danger—I've seen Shallan vanish into the nearest bushes with Relli, both of them covered in gore. Coming close to death seems to make life that much more important. Hellfires, I've felt that way plenty of times, I just never did anything about it because there wasn't anyone around that I wanted to wake up with.
He's somebody I wouldn't mind waking up with.
She caught the way her thoughts were tending, and sternly reprimanded herself. But that's no reason to start with him.
:You know, my lady,: whispered a little caress of a thought across the surface of her mind, :just because you've always been afraid of something, that's no reason to continue to fear it.:
For a moment she was confused, then angry with him for eavesdropping on her thoughts, until she realized he was talking about Mindspeech, not sex. But the touch of his mind on hers was as sensuous as the touch of his hands just under her breasts; the only other Mindspeaker she'd ever shared thoughts with was Warrl, and he was not only unhuman, "he" was a neuter. She had never felt anything quite so intimate as Eldan's thought mingling with hers... there were overtones that speech alone couldn't convey. A sense that he found her as attractive as she found him; an intimation that his body was reacting to the near-brush with death in the same way....
We're going to have to stay in here until the hunt dies down, she thought absently, more than half her attention being taken up with the feel of his warm hands soothing her aching ribs, and the silken touch of his thoughts against her mind. It's going to happen sooner or later—we're both young, and we're both interested. There's no earthly reason why we shouldn't. If we don't, things are only going to get very strained in here.
Valdemar Books Page 561