At the nods of agreement she strode for the door. She would sleep, then rise to eat well. Warriors never knew when they would eat next. She left with the Keplians amid a rising clamor of excitement within the keep. Hylan had insisted on his turn to bear her. He cantered lightly over the rough ground, reveling in the dual sensation as their minds linked.
Some echo of that pleasure reached the mare and young stallion who paced them. Theela mourned it. For her there might never be a rider who could be truly kin. Her head came up. Yet, there might be, once the tower was beaten.
They reached the canyon, passing the runes that flared as mares and foals crowded around. Eleeri dropped to the ground and began to explain the plan. One by one they understood, absorbed, considered, and agreed. They had long since decided who would fight, who would remain to care for the smaller foals. Now the mares who chose thrust forward. Eleeri counted. Almost twenty would hunt beside the humans. That was well. The Keplians had an ability to handle evil at closer quarters, where humans would faint from the stench of the Dark. She went quietly to her keep. There she took up a bundle of torches twisted from dried grass around a core of a slow-, strong-burning wood.
Her steps led now to the great underground room below the keep. At her command doors opened, shelves revealed their burdens. Once again she chose weapons, mail to take for Jerrany. Then she stood allowing her mind to fall blank. It was like the sleek surface of a lake; no ripple marred the surface of her mind as she stood motionless.
In the deeps of her mind something stirred, like the movement below the waters of a huge fish that does not break the surface. She allowed it to sink again and waited. It returned with a silvery leap and before she could lose it, she shouted aloud the word that came.
“Ceearan!”
Light blazed from points in the ancient stones. Behind her there came a slow soft grinding as one final door opened. She spun, her eyes seeking eagerly. Despair suddenly filled her. What was this? Nothing but— She peered more closely. It looked like old damp clay. Damp? Her mind queried; it must have been here since the original owners left. How could clay remain damp so long, even hidden within such a hiding place? She remembered the bespelled cupboards upstairs; this might be as they. But why would the owners hide clay in such secret? Her hands went out as her shaking fingers were drawn into the surface.
Blank-faced, hands moving in a blur, she did what was laid upon her. Then she bundled the results into a cloth. This must come with her, a geas laid, but she did not fight the command. She half understood the reason, and within the geas she had felt the touch of she who had once been keep’s lady. She would trust her far-kin. Carrying the cloth and its contents, she tramped up the stairs again to eat and sleep.
By sunhigh she was far down the mountain trail. With her the Keplian mares paced, the obedient pony following with laden saddle. Eleeri was astride Tharna as the mare pranced smugly. Hylan trotted well ahead, scouting the track as they traveled.
They reached the lower hills without incident and Eleeri halted them to rest. They would wait the night out here; at dawn they could descend the final slopes to meet with her friends at the ford. Several times as they moved she had shot leapers disturbed by the passage of hooves. Now she paused to walk apart. Each time she had bled the beasts, and now she skinned and gutted them quickly. The entrails were buried, the bundle of skins hung high in a tree fork and covered with strong-scented leaves. If she returned safely, she would take them with her. Survival in this land required that nothing be wasted.
Swiftly she placed two of the small bodies on sharpened sticks over the fire that now crackled within a circle of stones. The remainder she jointed and placed in a pot half filled with water. To that she added such greens and herbs as she had. In the morning she would not wish to waste time cooking. But there would be no need; the stew would have simmered all night in preparation for her breakfast. She waited until the leapers were nicely roasted, then she ate, tearing the well-cooked meat from the bones with strong teeth.
In the center of the dozing group she laid out her bedroll and slipped within. Her dreams were vague but ominous. Far Traveler with grave eyes approached, his fingers gesturing warning signs. She saw Cynan and her mind focused, reaching out. He had been her friend for so short a time—but a friend all the same. What had befallen him with her going? Was he still alive? She was certain he was not. Did he, too, come to warn her? The figure faded into hills and she recognized the land about his Karsten hold. She seemed to follow as he made with faltering steps for the small graveyard that held his line.
She saw him reach out to where the flowering bush blazed in glory. The blossoms lit the sunlight to a greater beauty and his lips shaped her name. A small wind blew through the bush and bright blossoms fell to lie sprinkled upon the gray stone. There was a sense of peace, of a long journey accomplished at last. She did not weep then; it would not have felt right to mourn him. He had chosen his own time and trail. In the end he had remembered her. She would remember him. She slipped into a deeper sleep without dreams and woke refreshed. As she ate, she conversed with the four Keplians who were closest to her now.
The breeze blew warm; the sun already betrayed heat to come. She vaulted to Hylan’s warm back and the group trotted down the trail to where the rapids foamed and bubbled. Above them the water purled at the ford. Behind a clump of trees they waited until sounds spoke of their allies’ arrival. Eleeri waved, to be joined by her friends then.
“Let’s not waste time. My men all know what we planned. They have agreed to fight beside the Keplians.”
Eleeri nodded, sending the message to those who waited. Hooves thumped as they swung to the ford. Human riders moved out to join them, those last in line now leading the three ponies hold and canyon had discarded. Eleeri turned back, opening the heavy bundle she had removed from her beast.
“Jerrany, I found this in my keep. It is twin to the one I gave Mayrin. I ask that you wear it. The one who once owned it battled the tower in his time. It would have pleased him to know he has some part in this.” Under her hands the chain shirt fell free, gleaming in the sunlight. There was a subtle shimmer to the metal links, a shifting of colors like oil on water.
Jerrany reached out and donned it wordlessly. He had owned no more than the usual metal rings sewn to leather. But this . . . this was a great gift. How many of these did Eleeri have? he wondered silently. He knew of three now. Were there more yet? But he would not ask. It was enough that they all wore one, and Mayrin was safer so. That was all that was his proper concern. He glanced down, to see that their friend was not quite done.
From the same bundle she now drew daggers. The blades gleamed in the sun, a soft silver glow so that he sucked in his breath sharply.
“Silver?”
She smiled. “Silver and some way of tempering that makes them steel-keen. Wear them. They are doubly dangerous to the Dark.”
He removed his own dagger to replace it with one of the proffered weapons. Mayrin followed suit. His leather ring-sewn shirt he hung on a branch, the daggers hooked into its belt. Then he turned to the waiting Keplian. He bowed and stepped forward. Theela stood as he jumped for her strong back, then as his legs curled about her, she curveted a little, testing his seat. He laughed, stroking the proud black neck.
“I know, I am here only so long as you will it. I’ll remember.” He watched as his wife mounted, the young stallion bending his haunches to sit so she could mount, heavy in her mail.
Eleeri swung onto Hylan, sending him pacing slowly into the rushing stream. In the breast of her mail the thing she had been driven to make lumped uncomfortably. She eased it with a surreptitious hand. They left the stream and ford behind as they struck out in a direct line for the tower. Soon the decoy party would reach the rasti to begin their attack. The attention of the tower would be drawn away. They must make the best time they could without being noticeable until then. Into a growing heat they moved, hearts high.