Overcast as it was, the clouds had thinned enough to let the rising moon not only shine through, but reflect among them. It was certainly light enough to see Vaklar’s grin as Reandn returned.
“Now, that is an interesting creature,” he said as they threaded past the wagon and the other guards. “Might be I’d like to try that gait out myself.”
Nican’s voice came from a distance. “No you don’t!”
Reandn just laughed. He touched his calves to Sky’s sides, and Sky surged ahead.
Vaklar cantered up beside him and fell into a posting trot. “Maybe I’ll not try him, at that,” he said. “Now give an old man a break and slow it down where I can jog this mare, aya?”
Reandn picked the reins up just enough for Sky to feel the bit tip in his mouth; they slowed. “Old man,” Reandn said. “You don’t think I’m going to fall for that one, do you?”
“Naya,” Vaklar said, sitting more comfortably on the mare. “It’s not always the years that do the aging, is it now? On that score I’m guessing you know well enough.”
Taken aback, Reandn nearly stopped Sky altogether. “That’s not a conversation we’ll have,” he said flatly.
“Oh, now, ladaboy,” Vaklar said, emphasizing the ladaboy just enough to let Reandn know he’d used it on purpose. “You don’t be taking offense so easily.”
“If I take offense, you’ll know it,” Reandn told him. And then new magic crept up and wrapped itself around him, cutting the conversation in two.
Sky stopped short and bobbed his head uncertainly, his ears flicking in constant, anxious motion. Reandn clutched at the thick black mane as dizziness struck and whirled around him, hoping to stay in the saddle — ignoring Vaklar’s increasingly urgent inquiries.
But the thrum of magic peaked and faded instead of cresting high. Reandn cautiously straightened. Had they moved that far from the campsite already?
“All right, then, Dan?” Vaklar asked. His mare stood broadside before Sky; Sky nickered at her, arching his neck just so.
“Stop it,” Reandn muttered at him. To Vaklar he said, “I’m fine.” And then, at Vaklar’s frankly disbelieving look, he added, “It’s... an illness. It comes and goes.”
Vaklar looked at him another long moment. “An’ it be something that can leave my meira open to danger?”
The intensity in his voice opened a flood of memories that Reandn had learned to keep deeply buried.
Adela, challenging him in just this way when his reaction was still a bafflement in a world that wasn’t supposed to have magic. Adela, dying at the hands of a bitter old wizard’s stolen powers. And Reandn himself, torn from King’s Keep, torn from his place in the Wolves, torn from everything that made his life whole.
All because of magic.
He blinked and discovered he was staring at Vaklar, his face aching with the clench of his jaw. It should come as no surprise that the memories lurked so close to the surface, not when once again he’d been torn from his life — this time as Wolf Remote — and put back into a private battle against magic.
Now the magic lurked around him, a constant threat just because it existed. And because he was who he was. Even if, at this exact point in time, he didn’t know exactly what he was any longer.
Just what he was supposed to be in this moment.
“I’m just the remount wrangler,” he told Vaklar. “I’m irrelevant to your meira’s safety, unless I put her on a rank horse.”
“Aya,” Vaklar nodded, though his face held no assent at all. “The wrangler. For some reason, I do keep forgettin’.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 7
Damen arrived the next morning while Varina was still bustling in and out of Kalena’s tent on errands for her meira. The rest of the camp was packed up and ready to go; Reandn was marking time by poking at the pack knots when he heard Nican’s undignified shout of greeting. He ducked his head to hide his grin; Nican was at wit’s end this morning, chivvying Kalena along with teeth fritted behind his smile. Kalena’s own guards stood by their saddled horses, expressions stoic.
Damen walked into it without even a hint of warning, falling into a bustle of greetings and introductions. In the wake of them, Nican would no doubt pass the job of rousting Kalena to Damen’s unsuspecting shoulders. Just beyond the wagon Reandn could see Vaklar gesturing at the guards, naming them: Yuliyana, Pawl, Kiryl, Rufo, Tanich, and Jasha.
To the side, where he doubted anyone else could hear, Kalena’s voice rang briefly loud enough to come clearly through the layers of her tent. “I won’t hurry, Varina. Nobody’s going to bother us on this road, because no one takes me seriously enough to care that I’m here.”
“But the Hounds say —”
“The Hounds are Keland-born! They know nothing of Resioran hearts — and they’ve not seen the dissidents who mock my name. Well, to the Hells with my father for putting me in this position, and to the Hells with the Knife who think they can take me so lightly. They’ll learn better. Right now it’s enough to show these Hounds who’s really in charge.”
“But —”
“Enough! If you don’t mind your place I’ll trade you for a Keland personal when I get to King’s Keep.”
Varina’s gasp of dismay also came clearly to Reandn’s ears. He glanced at the chaos developing at the head of the party; the cart mule had added his voice to the fray and the cart had taken a few solid kicks.
Reandn had a sudden vision of all the mornings to follow, all proceeding exactly as this one. Patience.
If only Kalena had been right, that the road ahead was safe and clear.
But she wasn’t.
Eventually, Kalena ventured from the tent. Her guards swooped in on it, hauling out the belongings, and swiftly packing it. Kalena was introduced to Damen, whom she seemed to find no more impressive than anybody else. At last, Yuliyana led the palomino up to her meira, and after Varina had made several last minute adjustments to her riding clothes, kalena begrudgingly mounted. Almost instantly Nican got the cart moving, mounting while his horse trotted along beside it.
For a short while, all was silent. They traveled at an active trot, with all the horses lowering their heads to snort at the change. Reandn slid into Wolf mode, unhappy to be at the back but on watch all the same. In short order, Damen stopped his horse at the side of the road and let everyone else past, joining Reandn as they came abreast.
“Nicco tells me there’ve been some problems,” he said, just loud enough to hear over the horses’ hooves. Reandn slowed Sky to put a little more space between himself and the wagon just ahead.
Damen, tall and lanky and outrageously red-haired, looked like he’d taken the time this morning to clean up especially well in preparation for meeting Kalena. Reandn thought of the days since they’d separated and eventually nodded. “That’s a fair statement.”
“You and Elstan have this conflict under control?”
Reandn asked, “What did Nican say?”
Damen shook his head. “Enough... and not enough. I know he’s not said all of it. Dan, we need to be working as a team.”
But we’re not a team.
Instead of saying those words out loud, Reandn shrugged. “He lied about his shielding abilities. It’s a problem.” He looked along the line of horses, picking their way downhill. “Besides, there’s no telling if any of the Resiorans can feel magic, and we’re not supposed to have a wizard with us.”
“That’s true,” Damen said. “All of it. He did lie, and it’s a problem. I know that’s made this trip pretty hard on you, but I need to know...” he hesitated, glancing over at Reandn.
Reandn suddenly understood. “If killing Elstan makes Kalena less safe, I’m not going to do it, however incompetent he is. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Taken aback, Damen flicked his gaze ahead to the incompetent wizard in question, and then back to Reandn. “Was that supposed to be amusing?”
“It was supposed to end this conversation.”
“Dan —”
Reandn didn’t even let him get started — and if his voice stayed even, it was only because he let his frustration burn in his eyes. “Every time that man uses magic, he threatens my life. Sooner or later, he’s going to kill me.”
Damen’s words trampled the tail end of Reandn’s words. “We don’t need this, Dan, we’ve got enough trouble to deal with —”
“What exactly do you want of me?” Reandn asked, incredulous. “To say I’m not angry that his lies pose such a danger to me — to us all? That’s not going to happen. Tthe only one who can resolve this situation is Elstan — it’s out of my hands.” He glanced over at Damen. “Although, speaking of hands, I suppose if it comes down to it I can just break his. No finger-twisting, no magic.”
Damen gave him a long look that turned incredulous, and snorted. “You know, sometimes I can’t tell if you say things because you mean them, or because you’re just determined to be outrageous.”
“Maybe it’s best if you don’t know,” Reandn told him dryly.
Damen snorted, relaxing in the saddle and nodding to the trail ahead. Kalena rode just ahead of the wagon, surrounded by her guards. “This assignment is going to be one of the more memorable moments of my career, I suspect. One of those stories the grandchildren demand to hear again and again.”
“You’ve got a family?” Reandn asked, surprised that Damen hadn’t mentioned them earlier. Then again, until now their moments had been full of action, or planning, or going their separate ways.
“Couple of kids,” Damen said. “Hellions, they are. Nican’s free and easy, though. Quite the ladies’ man at court.”
“Doesn’t surprise me, somehow.” Reandn could easily imagine the shorter man sweeping someone’s personal off their feet. “Kalena seems immune to his charms, though.”
Damen eyed Kalena with some doubt. “I think,” he said, “that our meira is probably immune to any charm whatsoever. A trait that will stand her in good stead, once she reaches court.”
It did not stand her in good stead here on the road, however. Reandn only became more certain of it as they rode through the day — though switchbacks and places where the woods closed so tightly around the road that Sky danced in barely restrained worry in response to Reandn’s tension. They couldn’t charm her into delaying their frequent stops, they couldn’t cajole her into eating her prolonged midday meal more speedily.
Even Vaklar seemed frustrated by her, and when he and Reandn rode together that evening, the Resioran freely admitted he wished he could give her a good shaking up.
“You need to talk to her,” Reandn said.
Vaklar looked at him askance, but the night’s clouds were low and his features were mostly obscured by darkness. They rode slowly tonight, picking out the terrain ahead with some care.
“Talk to her,” Reandn repeated. “She can be a burr up our butt once we get on the main road, if she has to. Tell her that.”
“Naya, I will not!”
Reandn grinned into the darkness. “You’re her man, Vaklar. Find other words to say the same thing.” He patted the neck of the mare beneath him; she was such a steady thing, if a bit short of personality. “Someone’s got to —”
But he cut himself off, and straightened in the saddle, every sense alert. Magic thrummed in the air, just the faintest touch of it; enough to make him swallow hard. But it lacked Elstan’s touch.
“Dan?” Vaklar said instantly.
“Someone’s out there,” Reandn said, a murmur that was as much to himself as anyone else.
Alarmed, Vaklar looked around them. “Sure?”
“Not close,” Reandn said; the magic had already faded. He amended, “Or if there is someone close, they’re hunkered in pretty well. I just... heard something.”
“An’ you’ve better ears than I,” Vaklar grumbled.
The magic was gone; nothing else rustled in the darkness. Reandn relaxed enough to give Vaklar a wicked grin. “That,” he said, “is because I haven’t spent any good part of my life listening to your meira.”
Vaklar sputtered something; Reandn didn’t give him a chance to make good on whatever precise threat the words represented. He turned the mare on her heels and cantered uphill to the camp.
~~~~~
Vaklar spoke to the meira.
Reandn heard the fringes of the conversation early the next morning — a day grey and chilly beneath gusting winds. Damen was already saddled up and heading out of camp, riding aggressive point in the wake of Reandn’s report. But the guard’s words obviously weren’t enough. Although Varina had Kalena dressed and out of the tent quickly enough, no one could do anything about the rate at which Kalena ate her breakfast.
Once again, the saddled horses waited, the guards waited, Nican and Vaklar waited, and Elstan hung around trying to look like he knew exactly which shortcuts to take today. Every so often he made a pretext of offering advice to Nican, but his words were merely lifted from Reandn’s reports to the Hounds.
Sky jigged beneath Reandn, feeling all the tension from the camp; Reandn waited him out, knowing the horse would only worry more if forbidden his little dance.
Everyone feels it but you, he thought silently at Kalena, and indeed, if she realized how anxious they were to move on, she showed no sign of it. She broke her fast most completely, disappeared into the woods for a short while, and then returned to mount her fat gelding. They finally rode out in silence, with everyone too tucked in behind their concerns to make conversation.
Damen regularly rode back to touch base with them, and offered the cheerful news that they ought to make it at least halfway down the road before the day was out. Slow progress, indeed. When Kalena started making noises about a midday meal, Damen fell into line next to Reandn and offered the news that Vaklar would keep it a cold one no matter how the meira might fume. “And I’ve been thinking I ought to swap horses. This one’s going to be played out soon, with the kind of ground I’m covering.”
“Go through three of them, if you want. We need all the coverage we can get right now,” Reandn said, eyeing the steep drop-off at the very edge of the road. The rock rose up just as suddenly on the other side, and the travelers tightened together in the narrow strip. Kalena’s wagon crunched loose dirt precariously close to the edge and Yuliyana briefly grabbed the bridle of the horse pulling it, making a no-nonsense correction.
Trapped behind it, Sky bobbed his head in irritation at the slow pace. Reandn stroked his neck. “Besides, no need to ration them at this pace. If we were moving with any speed, Sky wouldn’t be quite so fresh.”
As if he knew he was under discussion, the gelding jolted forward, his head slinging up in the air and his quarters bunched; the remounts behind them. Nican just snorted amusement, but Reandn cut him off with a gesture, abruptly and deadly serious. “That was honest.”
Sky grunted and started forward, desperately trying to listen to Reandn’s steadying weight and legs but dancing in protest — and then Damen’s horse started, too, and then the oppressive swirl of magic closed in on Reandn.
“Magic,” he said, as Damen’s gelding kicked out angrily behind itself. But he hadn’t felt the magic before Sky started up — there was something else going on and he just couldn’t think —
Sky crowded the wagon and Elstan was crying “‘Ware!” and the other guards searched the woods around them, alarmed and wary. Something pinged off the wagon backboard and he realized then that it was a pebble, a slingshot pebble that was meant to have hit horseflesh like the others before it.
“Damen, behind us!” he cried, an instant too late as Sky, flinching and twitching under a barrage of the painful little missiles and finding no relief, spurted to go around the cart.
But there was no road to spare for them.
Downward they plunged, with Sky just as astonished as Reandn, his hooves scrabbling at the vertical slope and getting just enough purchase to turn his descent into a series of bounding leaps. The cliff flashed by Reandn’s head, the
magic snarled through his veins, and with each of Sky’s leaps came a terrified snort. They hit a true slope, dotted with trees — Sky plunged on, barely able to avoid them and Reandn just tried to stay out of his way.
Above them, the sounds of fighting — of dying — rang loud and clear, piercing the haze of magic around Reandn.
He found he could think, and that he could slowly angle the terrified horse across the slope. Sky found his balance and stopped, trembling so hard that Reandn threw himself out of the saddle.
The magic flowed in currents above him, surging and folding around the fight — of which Reandn could manage only the barest glimpse. Elstan’s magic had joined the mix, and Reandn stared up the hill for only an instant before flipping the reins over Sky’s head to loop around his throatlatch and tie off into safety before he left the horse, scrambling up the steep slope and toward the deadly power.
One of Kalena’s guards slid over the edge of the road, skidding limply down the soft dirt of the cliff. Reandn hesitated, feeling the magic close in on him; he took several last deep, free breaths and crept up the cliff — constantly slipping, losing ground, and scrabbling onward, until he finally made it to the top. He threw himself up over the edge and rolled beneath the wagon, his vision greying as a guard fell lifelessly before him.
Magic — always magic! Taking so much from his life that he could barely fathom the loss and still slamming away at him — his fury gave him strength, and when the next peasant-clad pair of legs ran by, he shot an arm out and snatched an ankle. The other hand found his belt knife and by the time the man finished falling, Reandn had buried it just below his breastbone not once, but twice.
He climbed out over the body to end up in front of a horse — it reared with surprise, throwing the rider back. Reandn snagged the man’s jacket and he and the rider both ended up on the ground — but only Reandn struggled up to his feet again, whirling just in time to slash at the woman who came at him from behind.
An arrow thunked into the wagon at his side, and someone screamed, and someone right beside him grunted with effort; someone else fell before him, and hot blood ran down his arm and slicked his knife hilt. In one moment he had hold of a well-balanced single-handed battle axe, and in the next it was gone.
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