Rufus stood quiet as I vaulted onto Tashira and found my stirrups. Rygel’s black gelding fell into line behind Shardon as the two of them turned away.
I saluted The Sh’azhar. “Fare thee well, Majesty.”
He dropped his head in a grave nod, but didn’t speak as I rode his son away, out of the beautiful, peaceful vale. The Tarbane lifted their heads to watch as we rode through and past them. If anyone communicated their farewells in the silent Tarbane way, Tashira gave no sign. He trotted easily behind his silver brother, carrying me as though he’d done it all his life.
Out through the hidden canyon that protected the Tarbane’s home from humans, we jogged, none of us speaking. I turned back in my saddle before the vale could disappear, taking in one last look. The tall grass swayed in the light wind, whispering softly. Flowers nodded, sprite in waving their goodbyes.
Though I couldn’t see them, I knew hidden eyes watched us vanish into the canyon depths. I wondered briefly if I’d ever step foot in that peace-filled vale again.
Deep within my heart, the silent voice of the Sh’azhar spoke.
Yes. Yes, you will.
I smiled, content.
Chapter 7
Catch a Wolf
“Where are they?” I fumed.
Raine promised to return yesterday and he still hadn’t ridden back. The dawning of the third day since he departed rose and still he didn’t show himself. I kept the pace as slow as possible and still continue forward, driving Kel’Ratan insane with my worry.
“He’ll be here,” Kel’Ratan said for the umpteenth time.
Only Arianne shared my concern. She rode silent, the wolf pup in her arms, her face hidden behind her wealth of midnight hair. She barely spoke, refused to eat, and shoved every morsel she could down the cub’s throat. If they didn’t return soon, she’d starve to death in front of us with all the food at our disposal. And the pup would explode.
Even Corwyn’s rugged countenance displayed his disquiet, his blue eyes, when not on his royal charge, roved the hillsides all around, never still. Like Arianne, he seldom spoke and only when spoken to first.
Against Kel’Ratan’s advice and his fury I sent all the warriors, with the exception of Left and Right, out to ride parallel and search for any sign of Raine or Rygel. With Rannon, Yuri and Yuras, Witraz and Alun all riding, as widely scattered as possible, looking, surely one of them would report they saw the irresponsible pair. I even allowed Tor to ride pillion behind Yuri, thinking that an extra pair of young eyes might see something the others missed.
As we had for the last couple of days, we rode up and down the gentle hills, guiding our horses ever northwest. Through thickets of oak, pine, elm and beech trees we travelled, tripping over the occasional hidden rock. The local wildlife, stirred up by our presence, bolted. Rabbits, a few foxes, startled deer and even the small herds of shaggy, feral cattle raced away from us, their tails over their backs. Clouds of small birds flew up in wild flocks, cheeping in alarm. Hawks and falcons drifted overhead, their shrill ke-ke-ke calls raising in me no desire to fly with them.
My boys reported all sightings of the wolves had ceased. No wolf showed himself the instant Raine rode over the hilltop. I ground my teeth. I bet they had abandoned us and all followed after him even yet.
My mind kept wandering back to the afternoon Raine left, and skittered away in panic. He looked so strange. While he had tried for lightness, his eyes bespoke a dark shadow that frightened me still. ’Twas as though he scrutinized the very fires of hell itself. He rode away as fast as he could, chased by daemons.
Of course, I regretted my useless and stupid anger of that day. If that were the last time we ever spoke….
My mind shied away once more. He couldn’t be dead. He could not be dead. Nothing can kill him. He’s too big and too able and too—
“Ly’Tana, cease!”
As he had so many times yesterday, last night and this morning, Kel’Ratan scowled at me, his frustrations mounting by the moment. He seized my hand and pulled it from my lips. I gnawed my nails down to the quick. Again. I never felt the pain.
Bar flew in and circled, squawking his lack of success. He, too, was irritated with me, as I sent him out on mission after scouting mission, ordering him to search for the missing men. He didn’t like leaving me, as I had so few around to guard me.
I didn’t care. I pointed straight north, and he screeched his disgusted reply. Yet, as ever, he obeyed, swooping low to wing over my head, my hair flying in the wind he created, then swept north. Each time he returned reporting no success, I sent him in yet another direction to try again.
“He’ll be back,” Kel’Ratan said for the hundredth time.
“Then where is he?” I asked, also for the hundredth time. “What’s keeping him?”
He offered a long-suffering sigh. “Name it and it’s making him late. A lame horse, another town to search, he found the monks and is receiving praying lessons.”
“Don’t be absurd,” I retorted, gnawing once more on my nails.
“Maybe your temper tantrum pissed him off.”
I gnawed faster. He might very well be right on that score. ’Twas that very idea which frightened me the most.
Kel’Ratan sighed, and once more dragged my hand from my teeth. “He’s not that thin-skinned, nor that stupid. I was joking.”
It wasn’t especially funny, I thought, but didn’t say aloud.
A lone rider emerged from the trees, cantered across the green, kicking up flowers, frightening birds into chirping swoops. He rode down the gentle slope, leveling out at the bottom before his horse stretched out for the effort of an uphill gallop toward us.
Who was it? I tried to remember who I sent out in that direction. What color was the horse? It can’t be Witraz, his piebald stood out against the greens and browns and flowers of the great plains. I ceased to breathe.
“It’s Rannon,” Kel’Ratan said, shading his eyes.
Rannon gave his horse his head, urging him up the steep hill. Mikk had long since stopped walking when my attention riveted on the approaching rider, and bent his head down to nibble stalks of tender green grass. Left and Right halted behind me, Corwyn and Arianne bringing up the rear.
A mere rod away, Rannon reined in, bringing his horse to a trampling halt, raising dust and loose grass. He saluted smartly. “Your Highness—”
“What!” I cried. “Speak up, damn you! What did you see?”
“Give him a chance,” Kel’Ratan snapped. He took my hand.
Rannon blinked at my fury. “I think it’s them, Your Highness.”
I closed my eyes, began to pray. Holy Nephrotiti, thank you, thankyouthankyouthank—“Where?” I asked, opening my eyes, eager.
“You think?” Kel’Ratan asked, hearing what I hadn’t. His words jolted me.
“Think? You think it’s them?” I demanded.
Rannon turned to point northwest. “Yes, as I’m not quite sure.” He answered my first question. “That way. I saw two riders approaching. If it’s them, they’ve different horses.”
“What?” I exchanged a puzzled glance with Kel’Ratan.
Rannon nodded. “Two riders, leading two horses.”
Kel’Ratan shrugged. “Well, that might be understandable,” he said slowly. “Their horses are weary, they buy—”
“Or steal.”
He nodded. “Or steal fresh mounts. They lead their own back, which also explains their delay. They needed to rest up.”
He squinted at the sun overhead. “It’s only mid-morning. I think that’s a very plausible explanation for their delay. What do you think?”
I gnawed on my nails. “Are you sure?” I asked Rannon.
He nodded, smiling. “One of them was exceptionally large, wearing a white tunic. He’s riding a black horse with a flashy bay behind.”
“That’s them. How many big men have flashy bays?” I sighed with relief.
I turned in my saddle to Arianne. She had emerged slightly from her
midnight screen, her eyes huge and curious in her pale, pinched face.
“They’ll be here soon, sweetling,” I said.
She nodded and retreated. For some reason, she still worried. Like a disease, her fears were contagious. Two men and four horses? That can’t be a good sign, not at all. I gnawed on my nails, chewing absently. With yet another sigh, Kel’Ratan rolled his eyes heavenward and dragged my hand down.
I slid down from my saddle, leaving Mikk to his own devices, unable to take my eyes from the hills across the shallow valley. Come on, I thought, come on, dammit. Motion from my right caught my attention, and I half-turned to see Corwyn assist Arianne down from the mare, the wolf baby almost spilling from her arms. Kel’Ratan turned his own bay loose to graze, his strong hand on my shoulder.
“Quit worrying,” he said.
Another rider broke from under the distant trees, galloping toward us. I easily recognized Witraz on his stark piebald and with his black eye patch. If he rode with the same news, he pushed his horse harder than necessary.
Kel’Ratan scowled. “What the bloody hell does he think he’s doing?” he demanded. “He’s going to kill that damned nag.”
Witraz didn’t receive the message. On he galloped, his horse giving all. Down the far green hill and up the one we stood upon, watching, his stallion ran hard, dodging rocks, leaping deadwood. Witraz’s long hair flowed down his back, whipped up by the wind of his passage. His news must be bad. My stomach clenched. Breath left my lungs and didn’t return.
He crested our hill, guiding his mount around a tiny cluster of trees. He reined in so sharply, the piebald slid several feet before arriving at a swift halt. Witraz flung himself from his saddle before the horse even ceased his slide. Gasping, his face a deathly pale, Witraz fell to his knees.
The panic I felt after first sighting him choked my throat. Raine was dead. Witraz saw him killed, after all. Rannon saw him alive, Witraz found him dead. Lady, no—
“Your Highness,” he gasped. “They’re coming—”
“You all but kill your horse bringing us news we already knew?” Kel’Ratan’s blue eyes blazed with fury as he jerked his head toward Rannon. “What’s gotten into you?”
Witraz shook his head wildly, his brown hair falling about his face. “Not that, m’lord.”
“Then what? Speak!”
Witraz’s pale face turned toward me. Right before he dropped it into the grass.
“They ride Tarbane,” he said, his voice muffled.
Stunned, I could only stare at my warrior. My friend since childhood, my most trusted companion. I’ve known Witraz for years uncounted. Was this one of his many jokes? He’s irascible, full of jests and pranks, irreverent and funny. Never before has he ever acted like this: like a man possessed by evil daemons.
“Tarbane?” Kel’Ratan snorted. “You’re out of your mind. Just what the bloody hell have you been smoking out there?”
“Nothing—”
“You’re a bloody lunatic, that’s what you are! Your brains are fried—”
Witraz’s body rose a fraction, his weight on his right arm. “No, m’lord Duke” he said, much more calmly. “I know what I saw.”
Kel’Ratan stopped, strangling on his curses.
“Tarbane?” I asked. I didn’t recognize my own voice.
“Yes, Your Highness. Tarbane.”
“No one rides a Tarbane,” Kel’Ratan scoffed. He pointed sternly at Witraz. “You—”
“Tell them that,” Witraz answered firmly. He paused in the act of rising to his feet, quickly remembering to whom he spoke. “M’lord.”
Suddenly, things clicked into place within my idiot head. The strange tracks I saw in the soil. The grass bitten off, grazed by unseen creatures, with no livestock feeding off the lush grass. No human habitation for leagues upon leagues. The invisible eyes Arianne and Raine felt watching us.
The vast Plains of Navak was Tarbane land.
Somehow, Raine and Rygel had found themselves tangled up with the Tarbane. But why in Nephrotiti’s name are they riding them? I suddenly wished for my hawk’s keen eyesight. I could look for myself and see that he was whole and well and—
“There they are.”
I looked, shading my eyes with my hand. Two riders and four horses broke from under the trees, cantering slowly. There was no mistaking Raine. Few could have that breadth of shoulder. No one could sit a horse and still tower over others. And Rygel, with the sun glinting off his wheaten hair, riding beside him. Raine’s bay stallion I also easily recognized with his long flowing mane and tail, and white stockings. He cantered behind. No saddle rode his back. No bridle graced his blazed head.
Rygel’s mount was silver-grey. Raine’s black. Yet…Tarbane? How can one tell? No Kel’Hallan has seen a Tarbane in what? A thousand years? Perhaps more. Witraz could still be wrong, I told myself. Maybe they found themselves some exceptional animals, but hardly Tarbane. Maybe the Tarbane long ago ceased to exist.
Black spots danced behind my eyes, reminding me I hadn’t breathed since sighting them. I drew in a ragged breath and the spots departed, albeit reluctantly and with threats to return, posthaste.
“I’ll be damned,” Kel’Ratan muttered.
Tarbane. Those were Tarbane indeed. I’d never mistake the beauty, the grace, the sheer power of the beasts Raine and Rygel bestrode for anything less than Nephrotiti’s own. The black spots danced again, and I forcibly reminded myself to breathe. Like gods descended from heaven to walk the earth, the Tarbane loped across the green sward below us, their insurmountable magnificence creating havoc within my heart.
’Twasn’t Kel’Ratan’s hand, this time, that dragged my bitten fingers from my lips. I glanced down, confused.
Arianne smiled at me, tossing her midnight hair from her glorious eyes, cuddling the big pup close to her thin chest. Sapphire eyes peered, worried, from his dark grey, fuzzy face. Her hand, warm over mine, stilled my rising objections. “They’re home.”
The pair drew closer. Like the piebald before them, the Tarbane stretched their legs for the long uphill gallop, their riders bending over their necks to lessen the drag. Raine’s and Rygel’s more ordinary horses followed behind, flattening their necks in the effort to keep up. Thick Tarbane manes flowed like silk, brushing the tall grass, forelocks tossing with the effort of running uphill. Their huge tails streamed in the wind like banners of war.
How does one address a legend?
“I’ll be damned,” Kel’Ratan repeated, awed.
Um, not exactly how I might have put it, but—
They cantered over the top of the hill, breaking into a trot before slowing to a walk. The Tarbane stopped just several short rods away. The black gelding and bay stallion halted just behind, flanking them like alert soldiers.
Rygel, of course, grinned like a fool, his amber eyes bright with mischief. His left hand dragged through his blown hair as he cocked his elegant leg across the pommel of his saddle.
Raine’s expression looked set, defensive, almost. His weird eyes were still haunted, I noticed, the nasty shadow still creeping behind them. He sat still, his opening and quickly closing mouth telling me he couldn’t find the words to explain. Explain why they were late, why they worried me into complete insanity, how they came to ride Tarbane.
You better find the words, me lad, I thought, before I decided to ignore him for the moment. Reluctantly, with fierce eagerness, I turned to the Tarbane pair.
My breath caught again. They were utterly, wholly and without a doubt, perfect. As a lover of all things equine, these two cast all my previous notions of horses into complete chaos. No horse, living or dead, could compete with this pair for sheer awesome magnificence and excellence. Never again could I think of a horse as beautiful. I’d always compare them to the real thing.
As though reading my mind, I recognized humor rising into their previously bland expressions. The two looked at me with huge liquid, compassionate brown eyes. Looked at me, looked through me—
Crikey, where were my manners? I dropped to my knee, bowing my head. Reaching up my hand, I seized Kel’Ratan’s elbow and dragged him down with me. Behind us, Witraz and Rannon also knelt.
Rygel’s laugh brought my head up sharply. “I wouldn’t kneel to these two, Princess,” he said, finally raising his leg over the grey’s withers and sliding down to the ground. “They’re criminals.”
“Knock it off, Rygel,” Raine said, also dropping lightly from his saddle. “That’s just plain rude.”
“True though.”
I noticed Rygel took a moment to stroke his Tarbane’s face with real love, real affection, his sharp aristocratic features softening as he looked up into the big grey’s eyes. Hmmm, he never quite looked at Arianne that way. I suspected she had a rival now.
Raine took a long moment to stroke the huge black’s neck, his strange haunted eyes on me. He hesitated, his mouth opening, then closing, only to drop again. As though he feared to approach me. Of course he would, the big coward. He frightened me half-silly. Retribution was in order here.
His sister, however, entertained no such fears. Uncertain who to embrace first, her brother or her lover, Arianne chose both. At the same time.
Thrusting the pup into Witraz’s astonished arms, she dashed forward, and launched herself at them both. Her tiny arms somehow managed to catch them around their waists. Rygel’s trim form posed little issue, but her tiny arm barely made it across Raine’s broad belly. Rygel chuckled and swept her up into his arms, not allowing her the satisfaction of greeting her brother.
Raine didn’t seem to mind, however. His strange, haunted eyes never left mine.
“I’m sorry—” he began.
Dammit. I wanted to be angry, wanted to be hurt. He wasn’t supposed to apologize so soon, not before I had my chance to berate him for his foolishness, his complete disregard for my feelings. My idiot heart softened into the pup’s liquid mush, my previous ire drifting away on velvet wings. My treacherous face found a smile. Why should I be so bloody soft? I didn’t want to be. He needed punishment and my firm ideals scattered on the light wind.
I silenced him with my finger to his lips. “No worries.”
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