Derian paused alongside a field that held some mares as wildly painted as Prahini. He stared at them so intently that Firekeeper wondered if he wanted a different mount; then he swung around and spoke in a voice that mixed hesitancy and enthusiasm.
"Varjuna, what about Eshinarvash or one of the Wise Horses? They wouldn't be afraid of Firekeeper or the yarimaimalom. Didn't you tell me that they seemed to have some ability to communicate with what Firekeeper would call their 'Cousin-kind'?"
"They do," Varjuna agreed. "That's an interesting solution, but..."
Derian interrupted, surprising Firekeeper immensely, for usually he was polite to a fault with Varjuna and Zira - even when they were disagreeing about some point of horse care or breeding.
"I didn't mean to suggest that the Wise Horses turn out as mounts for us. I mean ..." Derian colored a brilliant red. "I've had honor enough with the two rides Eshinarvash granted me. I just meant that one of them might me along and, well, supervise."
"It's a very good idea," Zira said, "and if we didn't suggest it, well, that may be because we think differently than you do. We think of them as our neighbors. You remind us that they are part of our community as well. Didn't Eshinarvash all but kidnap you last year?"
Derian's blush was fading, but he looked embarrassed nonetheless. "I was honored to help him and the rest of the yarimaimalom. It's not their fault I can't talk to them."
"Still," Zira said, "it seems to me that if they didn't think it rude to enlist you, we shouldn't think it rude to at least ask them for assistance. After all, didn't this start with one of the yarimaimalom? Shouldn't they be willing to help Truth if we are?"
Zira sounded so much like Blind Seer - who had not yet stopped complaining about Truth being the latest in a series of people willing to enlist Firekeeper to their use - that Firekeeper glanced at the blue-eyed wolf. He was sitting in a patch of shade, panting his approval.
"When you put it that way, my dear," Varjuna said to his wife, "it does rather make sense. Come. We'll see who the herds have sent as their emissary today. If Lady Blysse will help, I'm sure we'll be able to explain."
"You first," Firekeeper said. "They know you. I have only met one Wise Horse, and that was Eshinarvash just once.
SINCE THE AREA where the Wise Horse emissary typically waited was on the fringes of u-Bishinti, there was a delay while horses were saddled for the three humans. Firekeeper politely refused.
"Horses no like me," she said. "Is this not why we do this running about?"
"You have a point," Varjuna replied, stroking his own mount along the length of its neck to soothe it.
Firekeeper noted that all three horses were remarkably calm given the circumstances. However, this didn't surprise her. She had long suspected that Derian had a talent for working with horses, a talent less under his voluntary control than was Doc's healing talent, but no less real for that. She thought it was likely that Varjuna or Zira - or even both - were similarly gifted.
The horse who trotted up to meet them at the fence that separated the Wise Horse's area from the rest of u-Bishinti was none other than the same Eshinarvash they had been speaking of earlier.
Unlike the Wise Wolves and Jaguars - and many other of the yarimaimalom - Eshinarvash was not markedly larger than a usual horse. He was not a small animal, but he lacked the outsized proportions that made Blind Seer and Truth so automatically intimidating. Moreover, he had a grace and lithe build not common in horses of his size.
Firekeeper knew there was no strict rule as to whether the Wise - or Royal - Beasts would automatically be larger than their Cousin kin. Where size would provide an advantage, the Wise Beasts seemed to possess it, but whereas a gigantic wolf might pull down larger prey, a large horse would simply need more grazing area. Wise River Otters were no larger than their Cousin kin, but Wise Sea Otters, from the few Firekeeper had glimpsed, at least, could get quite large indeed.
Like Prahini, Eshinarvash's coat was wildly patterned. Firekeeper thought he had more black than white, but white stockings, rump, and splotches on his neck and flanks made for a vivid contrast. His mane and tail were bicolored as well, and Firekeeper had to admit that the contrast was quite lovely.
Coming within sniffing distance of the fence rail, Firekeeper and Blind Seer stood back and waited for the Wise Horse to acknowledge them. Etiquette was delicate when predator met with what in other circumstances might be prey. Eshinarvash, however, immediately addressed them.
"You arrive with friends of mine," he said, snorting and shaking his mane.
"Moreover, I know you to be a friend to the yarimaimalom. Welcome, Firekeeper and Blind Seer."
"Thank you," Blind Seer replied for them both, stretching out in the hybrid of a human and wolfish bow he used. Firekeeper knew Blind Seer liked the gesture, since it allowed him to show courtesy without demonstrating submission. She inclined her head in something of the same manner.
"These humans," Firekeeper said, "have something to you. They will do better than I would, but if you have questions for me, feel free to ask."
Eshinarvash's ears flickered back and forth, indicating puzzlement rather than annoyance, and he turned his attention to the three humans. They exchanged huffs of air, he humans breathing into Eshinarvash's nostrils as if offering their scent, the horse snorting genially at them. These formalities concluded, Varjuna - with ample assistance from Derian and Zira - began explaining their difficulty.
Eshinarvash listened, then raised his head to look over where Firekeeper and Blind Seer waited in a patch of shade.
"There is more to this than some vague expedition. I scent that Varjuna and Zira truly do not know - one smells of ignorance, the other of curiosity. Derian does know, but he will not say, even before these two who he admires. Would you care to explain?"
"We will," Firekeeper said. "Let me tell the humans what I do so they are not impatient."
She switched to Liglimosh. "Eshinarvash say he have question for me. I answer now." Varjuna smiled gently. "By all means." Firekeeper then returned her attention to Eshinarvash. "Truth is a jaguar, so it is likely she has not even told her close kin what it is we are hunting. Still, there are those on Misheemnekuru who know the beginning of the story. Two of these are ravens, and as they are great gossips, the story mayfly wide."
Blind Seer cut in, "Even so, although this is not precisely a secret, what we tell you might not be for the common herd - or pack - especially after the unsettled events of last year."
They went on then, the two of them together, to retell me whole tale. They left out the long days spent digging and polishing, and concentrated on the finding of the figurines and what they had deduced from them.
"So you go," Eshinarvash said, when they had finished, "with Harjeedian and one of these maimalodalum to seek the source of these figurines - or at least the subject. It is a bold venture. I wish I could see you all mounted on ones such as myself, but I think it would draw too much attention. One Wise Horse, perhaps, could be explained for the very reasons Varjuna has asked, but more than one... It has not been done since the days of Divine Retribution when all was unsettled."
Firekeeper would have liked to hear tales about those days, but even nose-dead as she was she swore she could scent the curiosity coming from the humans - especially from Derian and Zira.
"Then are you saying you think at least one of you could come?" she asked. "It would be a great help."
"One, and I think I know which one," Eshinarvash replied. "Unless there is great argument against it from the leaders of my herd, I will join your expedition."
IX
THE NEW MOON, Deer Moon to Derian, something incredibly poetic and allusive to the Liglimom, had gone from a sliver to a definite crescent by the time they departed u-Seeheera. By this time in his life, Derian had planned and equipped several expeditions into unknown territory. He was pleased and even flattered that - other than suggesting a few people Derian might wish to consult - Harjeedian left him to handle the work o
n his own. Nor was this the aridisdu treating him as a servant. Derian ell knew the difference and appreciated it. Harjeedian for his part had all but moved to u-Bishinti, and was taking some intensive courses in riding and packing. They had decided to do without wagons on this venture, not knowing if where Truth would lead them would even have roads.
Firekeeper made herself as useful as Firekeeper ever did in these circumstances - which was to say, not very useful at all. Derian didn't mind. He knew that her skills would be of immense value once they were away from cities and regular lines of supply.
He learned that in addition to those already agreed upon, their expedition would have two more members: the ravens Bitter and Lovable. He welcomed the two Wise Ravens with enthusiasm. Early in his association with Firekeeper he had learned how useful an aerial scout could be.
"I miss Elation sometimes," he commented to Firekeeper as they departed u-Bishinti. "I wonder how she is?"
"Raising little peregrines, as Elise is to raise little humans," came the reply. "I hear she is well."
There was a long pause, "But I miss her, too." One of the ravens, Bitter, Derian thought, gave a squawking croak there was no need to translate.
They were well equipped. With Eshinarvash along to act as the oddest wrangler Derian had ever imagined, there had been no need to skimp. There were a riding horse and a spare for Derian and Harjeedian both, and three pack mules to carry their gear. Harjeedian had brought more gear than Derian had anticipated. However, Harjeedian did not bring the one thing Derian had expected. "No snake?"
"No need," Harjeedian explained. "We have four yarimaimalom accompanying us. They will provide ample omens to guide our actions. In any case, as someone once chided me, travel is not easy for a snake."
"Then this stuff?" Derian asked, indicating what had seemed to him to be religious supplies.
"For divining," Harjeedian said, "and for communicating with the yarimaimalom. Lady Blysse may not always be with us."
"Firekeeper," the wolf-woman replied, with that word granting Harjeedian the privilege of using her personal name. "And what Harjeedian say is true. I not always be with. It is good to have his wisdom."
Derian already knew that Firekeeper was adept at flattering those whom she needed, but her prefacing the compliment with permission to use her name gave a certain sincerity to the statement. He glanced over at her. Never - especially based on the circumstances of their first meeting with Harjeedian - would he have believed Firekeeper would have granted that permission.
"We hunt together," Firekeeper said, seeing Derian's need for explanation. "We are a pack. You would not ask me to leave aside my Fang or bow. I will not ask Harjeedian to leave his tools."
Harjeedian made a hand-pulling gesture and inclined his head, wordless acceptance of the honor done. "Where do we meet the maimalodalu?" he asked.
"The message say within a day's ride of u-Bishinti," Firekeeper replied, "along the coast road."
Derian glanced over at the last two members of their riding string, two stout, strong ponies. Firekeeper had indicated the size mount they would need, but had admitted that she didn't know if the newcomer - someone called "Plik" - knew how to ride.
"If he's that small," Derian said, "he can ride pillion until he is comfortable in the saddle."
"Not so small," Firekeeper said, gesturing widely with her hand. "Just not so tall."
All of this prepared Derian not at all for what - or rather who - they found waiting for them along the coast road.
The ravens had left them some time before, and now, the rest of the group came upon a rough building set to one side of the road, the birds set up a racket.
"I think we're supposed to stop," Harjeedian said dryly. "I do not even need my tools to be sure of this particular omen."
"What is that place?" Derian asked. "It doesn't look like a house."
"A shrine," Harjeedian said, "and a cenotaph. There was a horrible shipwreck off the coast here when I was a boy. The shrine is to thank the deities for sparing those they did. The cenotaph is to commemorate those who did not survive."
Derian nodded. After enduring three long sea voyages, it was all too easy to imagine the wreck. Even here in the bay, where the bulk of Misheemnekuru sheltered the shore, he could envision the comparatively calm, sunlight-dappled waters turning rough and ugly.
What waited for them in the shrine was, at first inspection in the filtered light that came through barred window openings, a short, fat man wearing a cloak over clothing in the Liglimese fashion. His head was covered by a slouch hat that hid most of his features. Unaccountably, Derian was aware of the twinkle of two dark eyes beneath the brim.
"Sir," he said in Liglimosh, "I am Derian Carter, called Derian Counselor."
"And I am Plik," came the reply. "Firekeeper knows me. We have journeyed together before, on Misheemnekuru. I think I smell her about."
"She is almost certainly outside," Derian said. "She would find this building a little close."
"Built to my size, not for a wild, roaming wolf," Plik said. He bent and picked a leather pack from the floor beside him. "I wonder if that means that the gods are small, or merely that those who made this shrine didn't wish to spend too much."
"Or," Harjeedian said from where he had been burning something sweet and aromatic on the altar stone without, "that the builders knew the gods cannot be confined or housed in any space made by human hands. Welcome. I am Aridisdu Harjeedian."
"I remember your face from the day Magic's tower fell," Plik replied. "Your sister became junjaldisdu, or so we heard."
"You heard correctly," Harjeedian replied, and though Derian listened for envy in his voice, he heard only pride. "Rahniseeta does well. The disdum teach her, and when she has enough of lessons for the time, she waves her hands and says, 'If the deities thought I needed to know all of that, all at once, I am sure they would not have chosen me. Leave me to meditate for a week.'"
Derian's heart gave a funny twinge, part pain, part something harder to define. That did sound very like Rahniseeta. She had learned to play the role of the submissive maiden, but there was fire in her, fire and storm.
He often wondered what it would have been like to be married to Rahniseeta, even now, over a year after she had rejected him to follow the will of her deities. There were times the wondering turned to wondering if he would always wonder. That was when he usually kicked himself back into sense.
Plik was speaking. "I know the rest of your company, although Eshinarvash only by reputation for his great deeds in the uncovering of Dantarahma's cult."
He made little bobs that might be bows all around.
"What do I do next?"
Derian now fully understood Firekeeper's reasoning that Plik would not ride well two to a horse. Short he might be, but he looked very solid.
"We have two ponies," Derian said, "if you can ride. If cannot, then we must teach you."
"I cannot ride," Plik said, "not as you do, but if you put me up on the creature that is least inclined to protest, I will do my best to learn."
Derian glanced over at Eshinarvash. "I was thinking the silver-grey."
Eshinarvash snorted and nodded. Derian went and undipped the pony from its place on the string.
"He is called 'Cuddle Toy,'" Derian said, half-apologetically. "We could call him something else if you would prefer."
Plik chortled. "Cuddle Toy seems just right. He's nearly as round as I am, but vain of that shining mane and tail, isn't he?"
Derian laughed, his hands busy with the tack. "He is rather, but the hair is silky and not at all hard to keep looking nice. Now, if you'd come over here. There is a stone that will serve admirably as a mounting block..."
Plik came over. From the corner of his eye, Derian saw Harjeedian pick up the maimalodalu's pack and add it to the burden of the most lightly loaded mule. The aridisdu made a careful job of fastening the straps.
"Very well," Derian said. He had put hundreds, possibly thousands of people
up on their first horse while working in his family's livery stable. "You put a foot here, then I'll just give you a bit of a shove."
He moved his hand toward the plump posterior, and found himself jerking back immediately.
"Ancestors!" he said. "You have a tail!"
A furry length, mostly grey but with darker rings towards the end, came visible, then vanished under the cloak once more.
"And at least as fine a one as does Cuddle Toy," Plik replied with gravity. "I can move it to one side. You will not hurt me."
Derian forced himself to return to his post. Plik's posterior did not feel unduly unlike a human one, but Derian felt fairly certain that not only did their new companion have a tail, he had fur as well.
What did you expect, idiot? he addressed himself. You knew he was a maimalodalu. He may have fangs and claws as well. You almost certainly worked with him that night on Misheemnekuru. Get a hold of yourself.
Plik was stroking Cuddle Toy's mane. His hands, at least, looked fairly human, though perhaps the nails were a bit heavier than usual. Derian looked up into the face under the hat brim, and was relieved to find no snarling fangs, no horribly mutated countenance. In fact, if you concentrated on the raccoon traits, rather than the unsettling manner in which they blended with the human, Plik was rather cute. "Raccoon in your heritage?" Derian asked. "That's right," Plik said. "It rather shows, doesn't it?" "Not when you're dressed like you are, and not even until someone gets close enough to look under the hat."
"Which won't be easy given that I'm rather close to the ground," Plik said complacently. "At least that's what I argued when stating why I should come along."
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