After she had dived deep to rinse off the soap, she surfaced to see the stallion making his slow way down the slope from the cottage. He was watching her curiously and Liliana wondered if he had ever seen anyone bathing before. Probably not.
“Hey there,” she called out. “Care to join me?”
The horse snorted and looked around, staring up and down the river. Liliana grinned.
I guess horses don't love the water very much, she thought. Oh well, that's okay. Grom doesn't either.
She walked out of the river, picked up her towel and began to dry herself off. The sun was beginning to set, but it was still warm on her skin and she took a moment to enjoy the sensation.
As she toweled off, she looked at the numerous scars and fresh cuts that covered her body in odd patterns, and let out a sigh. The gods' healing had saved her many times since she had been chosen as a paladin, but those blessings always left their marks. Over the past five years, however, all of her wounds had been treated normally, divine favor just a memory.
And now?
Liliana finally had the time to focus on the events of her trip. Not just how she had found the stallion, following a vision that had to have been sent by the gods, but everything else that had happened as well.
She slipped her tunic over her head and sat down on the riverbank. The horse was a dozen yards away, grazing contently, his red coat burning crimson in the last rays of the setting sun.
How had she healed the stallion? That was the question that she kept coming back to. She had tried healing others over the years since Simon had disappeared. So had the handful of clerics living at Nottinghill Castle. No one had had any success and all of them had learned to treat injuries the old-fashioned way; with bandages, stitches for deep cuts, and time. The castle's resident alchemist had developed a decent salve to speed up healing using beeswax, comfrey leaf, rosemary and a few other ingredients that she was unsure of. It did the trick though. The most important thing to remember when treating wounds was cleaning them thoroughly first.
“Basic first aid,” Liliana said to herself. “That's all we've been able to use for years now.”
People had died because the gods had withdrawn their aid, she thought bitterly. Died from conditions that, back in the days of technology, would have been routinely dealt with. Like appendicitis, or bleeding that couldn't be staunched after childbirth.”
She winced at the memory of a young woman, Bethany, whom they had lost that way. Her son had survived but his mother had passed away from excessive blood loss. It had been heartbreaking.
And now, just like that, the gods are once again deigning to bestow their blessings on us? Why? And why now? What had happened?
Liliana stood up and picked up her soap and towel. She slipped an arm through her sword belt and looked over at the stallion.
“I'm heading back,” she told the horse. “I'm going to have to close the gate soon, so I would really appreciate it if you'd come back in before then.”
The stallion munched on without reacting and the paladin shrugged.
I'm not his owner, she thought. If he wants to stay outside of the wall overnight, that's his choice.
She walked back up to the gate, carefully stepping over several exposed tree roots with her bare feet, her mind returning to the puzzle at hand.
If the lords of Light had really decided to take a hand in human affairs again, then she would have to return to Nottinghill very soon to tell the clerics. There was no way that they would know to pray for healing again unless she told them. Certainly she doubted that any of them would try a healing on their own after so many years of failure.
Liliana was back inside the cottage and putting on a pair of light leather pants when another idea struck her.
What if it wasn't me, she thought suddenly. What if it was the horse?
She sat on the edge of her bed and frowned at the floor.
Was that possible? Could an animal have the ability to heal itself? She found that difficult to accept, but then again she was living in a world where dragons had existed and magic was real, at least until it had stopped working. Maybe the stallion was blessed by a god? How could she know?
Well, short of injuring herself and trying to heal it, she couldn't. And that was not something that she was prepared to do.
Might as well carry on, she thought as she put on a pair of socks and then walked into the kitchen to boil some water for tea. Things will work themselves out.
She grinned as she recognized the fatalistic attitude of her father, a Russian peasant. He had been a big, strong, stubborn man who had lifted himself out of poverty with a combination of hard work and determination. He had opened his own garage and raised his four daughters on his own after Liliana's mother had died in childbirth.
The paladin smiled at the memory. Maxim Travnikov, that had been his name. He had had the strength of a bull and the heart of a lion. Liliana had been the baby of the family and her three older sisters had basically raised her.
Back then, unless she came from a wealthy, open-minded family, a woman was expected to get married, have children and manage a household while her husband worked hard to make enough money to take care of his family.
She frowned at that thought as she lit a fire in her stove. Her supply of wooden matches was getting low and she reminded herself to search for more the next time she passed through a town or village.
She had met a decent man and gotten married not long after her father had passed away. But it had been a disaster. Her husband had turned to alcohol while he was still young and had been verbally and, occasionally, physically abusive to her and her three children. The biggest favor that he ever did for the family was when he had met a woman and had run off with her. Liliana was only sorry that she hadn't been able to thank her.
She filled her battered old kettle with water and put it on the stove. While she waited for it to boil, she went around the living room and lit several candles. Night was falling fast and it was getting dark. Then she slipped on a pair of loose shoes and went out to close and lock the back gate.
To her surprise, Liliana saw the stallion grazing quietly at the side of the cottage, where the grass had grown long enough that she had thought about cutting it.
“So you decided to stay inside the wall tonight,” she said to him as she walked by.
He raised his head and watched her, his eyes glinting in the fading light.
“There's still water in a pail beside the well,” she added as she stopped and pointed in that direction. “Help yourself if you want it.”
He rumbled deep in his throat and went back to his grazing.
She smiled and walked around the cottage to the back gate. Once there, she closed the heavy door and slid the bar across it and then turned and walked around the perimeter to make sure that everything was secure. The world was much too dangerous to take her safety for granted.
All was well. The gates were sealed and the fence was intact and in good repair. The paladin went back inside, made her tea and sat down on her creaky, comfy old couch to do some thinking.
Well, well, she mused as she sipped the hot beverage. So the horse was clever enough to come inside the fence for safety. Interesting. He is at least as smart as Grom then.
She frowned at the thought.
I have to stop thinking of him as just 'the horse'. I should give him a name. Whether he will answer to it or not is irrelevant; he's more than just an animal, which means that he deserves a real name.
She looked across the room at the darkness beyond her front window, thinking deeply. What had impressed her the most the first time she had seen the stallion in her vision? He had been protecting his herd, dropping back as they ran from the hyenas to engage the attackers. And her reaction at the time was one of admiration at his bravery.
He was so courageous, she thought. So valiant.
Liliana put her cup down on the small table beside the sofa and pictured that moment again.
Yes, s
he thought. That word describes him perfectly. I'll call him Valiant.
She chuckled a little.
I wonder what he'll think of that?
She slept well that night, after her week-long journey to find the stallion. Like most people, ever since technology had become useless she went to bed soon after dark and got up with the dawn. After all, what else was there to do at night? With no more television and no more internet, unless she wanted to sit up and read by the light of a candle, nightfall meant that it was time for sleep.
And, as always, Liliana was up at sunrise. She had re-stuffed her mattress with fresh straw in the early spring and it was still comfortable to sleep on, but even back in her old life she hadn't been one to lie around in bed.
Instead she got up, put on the clothes she had worn the night before and then cooked and ate some porridge. She walked outside afterwards holding a steaming cup of tea in her hand to check on the stallion.
She almost tripped over a dark lump of fur that was curled up in front of her door and stopped so quickly that some hot tea splashed over her hand.
Grom lifted his head at the sound of her cursing and she had to smile at the confused stare that he gave her, even through the pain of her burned skin.
“Sorry,” she told him. “I didn't realize that you were lying at the door. You know that you're always welcome to sleep inside.”
The wolf yawned, flashing his deadly white teeth and then he shook the dew off of his back.
Liliana stepped back to avoid the dampness and waited until he had moved out of the way. Grom rarely stayed indoors for any length of time; he preferred being able to come and go as he pleased.
She looked around the front yard but the horse was nowhere to be seen.
“Did you get along with our new friend last night?” she asked. “You weren't startled when you got back from hunting and found him inside the fence, were you?”
Grom tilted his head to one side and appeared to be puzzled. Surely he hadn't missed seeing the stallion? The horse was a little too large to go unnoticed.
She walked around the cottage to the left but he wasn't there.
Don't tell me he spent the night in the garden, she thought suddenly. If he did, I might have some cleaning up to do. Still, I can't expect him to know what a garden is, can I? Maybe I'll build a low fence around it, if he's going to be wandering around the area at night.
But the stallion wasn't in the garden. In fact, once she had walked around her property completely, Liliana came to the conclusion that the horse wasn't even inside of the wall.
“But I locked him in,” she said as she stood in the center of her front lawn, her cup of tea growing cold in her hand. “I'm sure I did. And I don't care how big he is, there is no way that he jumped over a ten foot high fence.”
Grom had trailed along behind her as she looked for the horse, watching her closely.
“He didn't slip through your little flap, did he?” Liliana asked, only half-joking.
The wolf actually looked across the yard to his small door and looked back at her. He whined a bit but that was all.
“Sorry, I was just kidding. Okay, this is weird. I have to find out where he is.”
She went inside and left the cup on her kitchen counter. She grabbed her sword belt and fastened it around her waist.
“Let's go,” she told Grom as she walked outside again.
They hurried around the cottage again and the paladin slipped the bar off of the back gate. She pulled it open and the wolf pushed past her to be the first one out. Liliana followed him slowly, looking cautiously in all directions with her hand on her sword hilt.
The sky was lightening and birds were singing their morning songs. She smiled at the sound but didn't stop looking for threats. There was no such thing as safety outside of her palisade unless she was within the walls of Nottinghill Castle, at least not until she and Grom had examined the area.
The wolf walked down the path toward the river, stopping to sniff the air every few feet. Liliana watched his ears, always a good indicator of whether there was danger in the immediate vicinity or not.
But Grom's ears remained perked up and, when he reached the river's edge, he looked back at her and barked once. The coast was clear.
She joined him and looked up and down the shore. To the east, she saw a flock of brightly-colored ducks bobbing along in the water, poking their heads under the surface to feed. The sound of their quacking delighted her.
More birds darted from tree to tree over her head and, very high up amongst the wispy clouds, she spotted the soaring outline of a black-winged eagle on the hunt.
The raptors had been one of those species greatly Changed after the magic had returned and were now immense predators. Liliana had seen one actually swoop down and carry off a fully grown deer once. So far there were no reports of people falling prey to them, but she stayed close to the cover of the trees along the river, just in case.
There were no signs of the stallion anywhere. It was as if he had been something that she had only imagined.
“No, damn it, he's real,” she assured herself. “I don't know what happened last night, but he is real. So where is he?”
She stood puzzling at the water's edge for a few moments and then noticed Grom staring off to their left, his ears perked up. He heard something.
“What is it?” she asked in a low voice. “What do you hear?”
The wolf was trembling with excitement but remained silent. He seemed to be waiting for something.
A faint cry made Liliana gasp. She grinned with relief. It was the familiar whinny of a horse.
She could see nothing; the trees that grew almost to the shore impeded her vision but, after a few seconds the call came again, closer this time. It was definitely the stallion. He was coming back.
Back from where, she wondered. Why would he wander off? And how did he get out through the fence?
The clip-clopping sound of the horse could now be heard and the paladin waited impatiently. She hoped that he was okay, whatever he had been doing.
Valiant, she reminded herself. You named him Valiant. Although whether he'd care for that name or not was another question.
The stallion finally appeared through the trees, his head proudly held high. He stopped as he spotted her and neighed loudly.
Grom barked at him while Liliana stared in amazement. Her jaw dropped at the sight.
The horse was wearing a saddle.
“What the hell?” she muttered.
He walked toward her, eyes glittering in the sunlight, his copper coat shining like metal. There was something about him, something magnificent and otherworldly that she couldn't identify. He was so beautiful that she felt tears rise in her eyes.
What had happened to him? Where had he gone? And where did that saddle come from?
The stallion stopped a few feet away and watched Liliana with bright eyes.
“Welcome back,” she said weakly. “Looks like you've had a busy night.”
He thrust his heavy head forward and pushed gently against her chest. The paladin stroked his cheek and then stepped around him to look at the saddle.
Liliana had only ridden a horse a few times back in the days before the world changed, and she hadn't been very good at it. To her inexperienced eye, the saddle looked serviceable rather than flashy. It was made of thick dark leather and had a horn sticking up at the front of it. The stirrups were tied together on top of the saddle with a leather strap and she noticed that there was a bridle hanging off of the horn itself.
“So who do we have to thank for this?” she asked as she patted the saddle. “And why would a wild stallion such as yourself stand still long enough to allow someone to put it on them?”
The horse shook his head, his neck spikes rattling like castanets. He snorted and walked past Liliana, making his way up the path and through the open gate.
The paladin stared after him, bemused, and glanced at Grom.
The wolf appeared to be
at as much of a loss as she was. They exchanged a blank look and then followed the horse together.
Valiant was standing near the door of the cottage and watched as Liliana rounded the corner. He gave his body a tremendous shake and then looked at her intently. He seemed to be waiting for something.
“Um, did you want me to take that saddle off?” she asked tentatively.
He remained still and waited.
“I assume that means yes.”
She examined the rig and figured out how to untie the two thick cinches, front and rear, that secured the saddle to the horse. With a grunt of effort, she lifted the heavy harness off of the stallion and set it on the ground.
“I'll have to build something to put this on,” the paladin said. “It shouldn't be left just sitting in the dirt.”
She picked up the bridle and examined it. There was no bit on it; it was just a simple rig that went over the horse's head and had reins that she could use to, hypothetically, control him.
The stallion was still watching her and she ran her hand down his back. There wasn't a mark on his hide from the saddle and he shone as if he'd just been freshly brushed.
“I've decided to call you Valiant, by the way,” Liliana told him. “Because you are, you know. Very much so. I hope you like it.”
The horse nudged her again and then strode off to the nearest clump of grass and began to graze.
“I guess that means you agree. Good.”
She considered the saddle for a moment and then went inside. There was a small, sturdy table in one corner of her living room that she only used to hold a few nick-knacks that she'd found on her travels; a couple of figurines, a small pewter statue of a tower that reminded her a little of Nottinghill, other souvenirs. She moved them on to the end table next to her couch and carried the table outside and set it down next to the front door. Then she lifted the heavy saddle and put it down on top of it.
“Yes, that will do the trick,” she said as she untied the strap holding up the stirrups.
When she let them fall, they appeared to be about the right length for a person of her height. She wouldn't know until she actually had a chance to ride the stallion and that could take a while.
The First Paladin (The New Earth Chronicles Book 1) Page 9