Mystic and Rider

by Sharon Shinn

  “About three miles down this road. We can be there very quickly in the morning.”

  “We could be there in less than an hour now,” Justin said.

  Senneth gave him a long, careful look. If he was going to try to storm the convent on his own, they would all be lost—Justin, Tayse, all of them. He fidgeted a little under her gaze but stared back defiantly. “Justin,” she said. “We will save him. We will not do it tonight.”

  “But the Daughters of the Pale Mother—”

  “I am a Daughter of the Bright Mother. Do you know what that means?” she interrupted. “Have you listened as I’ve talked during this trip? Have you seen the power I can conjure with my hands? I am a creature spawned by the sun. My strength is at its greatest during daylight. You cannot get him back without me, and I say we move tomorrow. Do you understand? Do you agree? Because I swear to you, I will strike you silent here, in this place, to await us until we return tomorrow with Tayse safely in our hands, if you will not give me your pledge now.”

  She spoke coolly but with great emphasis, and she meant every word. He stared at her, looking so young, so helpless, yet still so dangerous, and she was afraid to let herself blink or turn away. So she held his gaze, as she would have held the raelynx’s gaze, and she did not relent or drop her eyes. Finally he took a quick gasp of air, dropped his head, and nodded.

  “Say it,” she said.

  “I will trust you, Senneth,” he said in a low voice. “I will do what you want.”

  “All right. We camp here for the night. But I don’t imagine that we’ll get much sleep.”

  They traveled some distance off the main road to make an entirely uncomfortable—though, they hoped, invisible—camp within the edges of the forest that guarded the convent. The ground was damp, though Senneth used her hands to heat the soil to the point where the mud grew cracked and dry. She was also able to encase them in a small bubble of acceptable warmth, but they ate their food cold and washed it down with what water they had left in their supplies.

  “Three watches,” Senneth said as they sat together finishing their meals. “Cammon first. Then Kirra in the middle night, Donnal in the early morning. Kirra—”

  “I know,” she said. “Animal shape. So my senses are sharpest.”

  “I can watch some part of the night,” Justin said.

  Senneth shook her head. “You and I don’t have the skills they have, so we cannot really help. Rest while you can—if you can.”

  He nodded. “It’s one of the things the old soldiers try to teach the new ones. Sometimes the only thing you can do that’s of any use is keep yourself strong. It’s the hardest thing to learn.”

  “When we leave the convent tomorrow—when we have freed Tayse,” Senneth went on, as if that was a foregone conclusion, as if she didn’t fear that they would all lose their lives or their freedom in this wild gamble, “we will go south again. To Gisseltess.”

  “Is that safe?” Kirra asked.

  “Oh, I doubt it. My plan is to send one of you—Kirra or Donnal—ahead with a message to Halchon. We will have him meet us in some neutral place. I think he will agree to it, just out of curiosity.”

  “But Sen,” Kirra said, her voice urgent, “what can we learn from speaking to him directly that we don’t already know? Why don’t we just take Tayse and head straight back for Ghosenhall?”

  Why indeed? Senneth made a fist of her hand and rested her chin upon it. “Because I, too, have a curiosity,” she said at last. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

  She half expected someone—Justin, most likely—to grumble Fine reason to get us all killed, but no one said anything. It was her mission, after all; they were all here to support her. And she was convinced they had to see Halchon Gisseltess to put all the pieces together.

  “Well, if we’re all going to be up for part of the night, we’d better sleep now while we can,” Cammon said, breaking the silence at last. “Or—well—the rest of you lie down. I will stay up and watch.”

  Within a few moments, the others had arranged themselves as well as they could. Kirra and Donnal appeared to fall instantly asleep; Senneth could tell that Justin lay awake for a long time, though he held his body very still. If she’d been thinking about it, she would have had Kirra brush her hand across his forehead before she curled up on her bedroll, for the healer’s touch could sometimes soothe a man into dreaming. But perhaps not Kirra’s touch on Justin’s head, and perhaps not this night.

  Senneth knew she should sleep while she could, but for a while she let her mind drift with the mind of the raelynx, prowling through the undergrowth about fifty yards from their camp. It was hungry and restless, but she would not allow it to feed, merely let it scent the rich odors of the night and occasionally hiss with frustrated desire. Briefly she wished that she had the ability to shape-shift, so she could take raelynx form herself, run like supple sunlight through the forest, exist on nothing except hunger and menace and power.

  But she would not trade her own fiery skills for the ability to transmogrify. She had power and menace enough as it was.

  Eventually she dozed for a few hours, rousing again as Cammon shook Kirra awake and the serramarra slipped into the shape of a lion. Seeing Senneth’s eyes open, Cammon turned to her and whispered, “I can take the raelynx back while you sleep.”

  She shook her head. “I want to keep him now and through the morning. I want you free to concentrate on danger, even while you sleep.”

  “Do you think they’re looking for us? Do you think they really expect us to approach them tomorrow?”

  She smiled at him in the dark. “I don’t think the Daughters do, but I would guess that Tayse knows we’re coming.”

  “Will we free him?” Cammon asked.

  Yes, or all become prisoners. “We’ll free him,” she said. “Now lie down, and let’s go to sleep.”

  CHAPTER 26

  MORNING came swiftly, and they were all tired. They’d been tired for a long time, and Senneth couldn’t imagine things would get any less exhausting as they traveled into Gisseltess. Maybe Kirra was right, and they should just head straight back to Ghosenhall.

  Maybe not.

  They ate quickly, then mounted and set off along the forested road. Donnal was in wolf shape now, though Senneth had told him she wanted him human and on horseback as they approached the convent. Still, even for these last few miles it seemed prudent to have animal senses scenting the road for danger. Once he snarled and circled back to them, and they hastily moved off the road to allow a party of soldiers to pass. They encountered no one else until they came within sight of the convent.

  “It’s bigger than I thought it would be,” Kirra said, as they pulled off into the woods again to eye their target. “It’s huge.”

  “If they’re provisioned, they could last months under a siege,” Justin observed.

  “Good thing we don’t plan to wait them out, then,” Senneth said. She glanced around at her four companions, all sitting easily in their saddles and awaiting her word with complete confidence. “Ready then? As we discussed.”

  And they moved back onto the road and arranged themselves for travel. Senneth was in the center of the group, in the lead. Kirra and Donnal flanked her, half a horse to the rear, and Cammon and Justin were just behind them. In this arrow formation, they trotted up to the very gates of Lumanen Convent.

  None of the guards lounging before the gate saw them until Senneth and her party were only a few yards away. Then there was a sudden scramble and call for reinforcements and quick maneuvering until the five of them were surrounded by at least twenty soldiers.

  “Halt! Who are you? What do you want?” one of them demanded, clearly unsettled by their sudden appearance.

  Senneth looked down at him coolly. Her head was perfectly clear, but she could feel a dangerous tingling in her fingertips. “We wish to speak to the head of your order.”

  “The Lestra does not speak with random trash who ride up to the gate unannounc
ed,” the guard snarled back.

  “Oh, she’ll very much wish to meet with us,” Senneth replied. “Tell her there are mystics at the gate. Describe us. I think she’ll be happy to hear what we have to say.”

  The guard stared at her in narrow-eyed uncertainty for a moment before turning to one of his underlings and issuing curt orders. All of them must know by now of the prisoner in their midst and of the mystics who had traveled with the Rider throughout the southern provinces. Even the lowest-ranked guards in the barracks must be able to figure out who sat before them now.

  “Will you open the gates for us?” she asked pleasantly.

  He gave a nasty laugh. “The Lestra herself must invite you in.”

  Senneth nodded. “Then we will wait.”

  She had warned her companions that the wait might be long, for she assumed that Coralinda did not like to stir early in the day. So she held herself relaxed in the saddle and hoped that the other four did as well. Justin particularly. He did not wear his gold lions growling across his chest, but he wouldn’t have to. Anyone who knew there was a Rider in their party would look at the group and instantly be able to pick him out.

  They had been sitting there maybe twenty minutes when the massive doors to the convent were flung back and about a hundred women streamed out into the winter sunshine.

  Most of them were dressed in white robes, though here and there Senneth spotted clothes of darker hues, indicative of greater levels of devotion, she supposed. In the middle of the pale flood paced a lone figure dressed in silver and black. She moved in a measured, stately fashion, and it seemed to take an hour for her to cross the long distance from the building to the gate. As she walked, the young women fanned around her, a silent, sweet-faced choir of acolytes. They formed a random audience on the inside of the high wall, peering out through the scrolled gate at the heathens come to call.

  The woman in black came to a halt when she was just on the other side of the gate. She tilted back her head, so that her gray braid slid across the silk of her gown, and she stared at the mystics with fierce black eyes. She said nothing. The hundred novices, the scattered guards, the party of mystics all waited in silence.

  Senneth smiled. “Good morning, Coralinda.”

  There was a beat of soundless astonishment across all the people gathered inside the convent, but Coralinda did not flinch or recoil. “Senneth,” she said, in a low, beautiful voice. “I thought it must be you.”

  “I’m sure you hoped it wasn’t.”

  “I’m hardly afraid of you, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Excellent,” Senneth said. “For I am not afraid of you either. Will you let us in? We have something to discuss.”

  “Oh, please,” Coralinda said, “step inside.” She nodded to the guards, and two of them instantly went to pull open the gates. Senneth and her companions spurred their horses forward.

  “I would welcome you,” Coralinda said in that melodious voice, “but I am not sure you will find your stay very pleasant.”

  “It will be brief,” Senneth said. “You have something of mine, and I have come to retrieve it. As soon as it is back in my hands, we will be on our way.”

  “As soon as the gates close behind you, you will be prisoners along with the Rider whom we captured yesterday. In fact, I think you will be my guests for some time.”

  Senneth smiled. “Do you really think you can hold mystics inside your walls?”

  “Do you really think mystics can operate in the compound of the goddess? Even now, you must feel how weak your power grows, as the moonstones seeded into the very earth leach away your sorcerous strength.”

  “An odd thing,” Senneth remarked, lifting her arm and shaking her jeweled bracelet. “I am rife with power even when I wear the Pale Mother’s charm around my wrist.”

  Coralinda smiled back. “Yet I feel that even a woman made of fire will find little to burn in a small room made of stone.”

  “If you harm me,” Senneth said, “everyone in your convent will die within a matter of weeks.”

  “Oh come now, Senneth,” Coralinda said in an impatient voice. “Let’s not be melodramatic.”

  “I thought I was being practical,” Senneth replied. “I brought with me a most effective weapon, you see.”

  And she pulled her horse a little to one side and lifted the veil of obscurity she had dropped down, so that Coralinda and everyone in the compound could see the feral red creature crouched on the ground beside her. Its tufted tail flicked with barely controlled ferocity, and its ears were laid flat against its head. Its hot eyes were fixed on Coralinda’s face.

  There was a collective gasp and a few small whimpers, and many of the hundred Daughters scurried backward. A few looked puzzled, a few looked terrified. Coralinda herself appeared to be furious.

  “What have you brought to the Pale Lady’s house, Senneth?”

  “A raelynx. Do you know much about its kind? A full-grown one might kill a man every two days to feed. This one’s only about six months old, and very hungry. It feeds as often as it can.”

  Her voice scarcely raised at all, Coralinda said, “Kill it.” From five directions at once, crossbow arrows drove into the ground where the raelynx had been standing. It had darted away, almost seeming to disappear for a moment; then suddenly it materialized again between Kirra’s and Cammon’s horses.

  “Curiously,” Senneth said in a conversational voice, “a raelynx is very hard to kill. It avoids traps, it won’t eat poison, and I’ve never heard of an instance where one was brought down by a hunter. Don’t you know any of the tales, Coralinda? Living so close to the Lirrens, I’d have thought you’d have come across a raelynx or two by now.”

  The Lestra’s black eyes were filled with hate as she lifted them to Senneth’s face. “Remove this creature from my sanctuary.”

  “No,” Senneth said. “This is its new home. Your novices will be its flesh and its fowl. He will be safe and happy here.”

  Coralinda lifted her hand in some prearranged gesture, and another volley of arrows curved through the air. Kirra’s horse shied and whinnied, for the weapons landed very near its hooves, but the raelynx was miraculously unharmed. He had shimmied away at a pace too quick to watch.

  Now he was advancing at a slow, predatory crawl toward some of the white-clad girls. They shrieked and tripped over each other to get away from him. A few of them ran back toward the house itself; some raced toward the ornamental trees as if to take shelter in their branches.

  “He can climb,” Senneth called out to them. “That’s really not safe.” Two of the girls screamed and ran on toward the fortress.

  Coralinda’s fury was obviously growing hotter and darker by the second. Her black eyes bored into Senneth’s face as she snapped, “You control that creature with mystical power, do you not?”

  “To some extent,” Senneth said. “But as he grows older, he grows stronger, and I do not know how much longer he’ll respond to my commands.”

  “Take him and leave this place. Immediately.”

  “Not until you release the Rider you hold.”

  “He is mine.”

  Senneth shrugged. “Then your girls start dying.”

  Coralinda glared. “Oh, no, Senneth, you are not hard enough to make war on innocents. You would not let him feed on my novices.”

  “Yes,” Senneth said, “I would. Would you like a demonstration? Tell me, and I’ll release him now from my influence.”

  The two women stared at each other, Coralinda bristling with black rage, Senneth showing a countenance that was serene and unruffled. More crossbows creaked and snapped; more arrows flew. The raelynx continued his eager prowling, wholly unhurt.

  “He is not real,” Coralinda breathed, still staring at Senneth. “You have devised a most clever illusion to trick me.”

  Senneth shrugged. Suddenly, there was an unholy scream, and Coralinda whirled to see one of her novices writhing on the ground, blood streaking her white robe. Other girls clus
tered around her, kneeling or standing, looking fearfully over their shoulders.

  The raelynx crouched a few feet away, licking one paw and then snarling in frustration. Abruptly it let out that disquieting wail, choked off at the end. More arrows fell harmlessly around it.

  “No illusion,” Senneth said. “Hesitate much longer, Coralinda, and I swear to you, someone will be dead.”

  “Fetch the Rider,” Coralinda snapped over her shoulder, and two soldiers ran with alacrity toward the manor.

  “And his horse,” Senneth added.

  Coralinda nodded, and another man sped toward the stables. “If you follow us, if you attempt to harass us on the road, we will kill all the men you send after us,” Senneth said, her voice exceptionally cold. “I can see you want war, Coralinda, and I think you even more of a fool than I always did. But if you attack me and mine, I will slaughter any force you send against us. You are not a soft or sentimental woman. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I am.”

  “You are an abomination in the eyes of the goddess,” Coralinda spat out.

  Senneth laughed. “Which goddess? There is a whole pantheon, Coralinda, and they do not all love your mistress.”

  “Only the Silver Lady has any power in Gillengaria.”

  Senneth’s attention was fixed on Coralinda, but she could see movement on the periphery of her vision. A horse being led from the stables, a man being led from the manor. “The Silver Lady is restless and vain, and she seeks worship and glory, but she is not the only one with any power,” Senneth replied. “The Bright Mother has put her hand on me, and she is not content to watch her sister overrun the land.”

  “I will see you destroyed, Senneth, you and all foul mystics who profane this country.”

  “Strange,” Senneth said, “I was going to say much the same thing to you.”

  Into the harsh silence of the confrontation came the sound of footfalls and hoofbeats as Tayse and his horse arrived at the same time. The beast was saddled and ready to ride; Tayse’s weapon belts were draped over the pommel. From the corner of her eye, Senneth could see that Tayse’s hands were tied before him, but he looked essentially unharmed—no visible marks on his face, at least. He appeared not to have offered resistance, and the guards seemed to have treated him with some courtesy.