She was mounted on one of those furry goats.
I stifled my smile, for I’d no wish to offend. “Greetings, warrior.”
The girl swelled with pride. “I am Pive of the Snake, Warrior of the Plains, and Guardian of the Gurtle Herds,” she proclaimed in a ringing voice twice her size.
“Greetings, Pive of the Snake.” I inclined my head toward her. “I am—”
“You are an intruder! And my captive!” Pive waved her sword. Greatheart shied a bit, uneasy. I had visions of my shins taking a beating from that blade. “You must come with me, to my camp, and surrender to my warleader.”
“Who is your warleader?”
“Gilla of the Snake.” Pive’s face was screwed up with determination. “Surrender or die.”
I shrugged. “As you wish, warrior.”
Poor little Pive almost fell off her gurtle at the ease of her conquest. Her mouth gaped open, then she recovered and gave me a grin that ran from ear to ear. “Follow me!” She sheathed her sword, and tugged on the reins. “Hup! Hup!”
“MUWAPP!” the gurtle protested, but it turned and started off at a trot.
I could grin now. Pive’s legs were lost in the fat, fluffy fur, but her toes hung down, almost scraping the ground.
I urged Greatheart to follow my captor.
It didn’t take long. Over two rises and down along a ridge, I could see a tent close to a small pond, surrounded by gurtles.
Pive was overcome with her accomplishment. “Heyla!” she called, forcing her gurtle into a gallop.
The gurtle ran, but it complained the entire way. The gurtles of the herd all answered those complaints with their own, setting off a chorus that could probably be heard for miles.
The tent flap opened, and an older girl emerged, followed by a boy at least her age. Their weapons were metal, their faces grim.
“Pive! Stop this noise!” the girl called out, only to stop in her tracks at the sight of me on my horse. “Warprize!”
“No, Gilla! That’s my prize,” Pive said as she dismounted, and hopped up and down in her glee. Her mount shook itself all over, and then plopped down right where it was standing. Pive paid it no mind.
“My prize! I captured her!”
“Warprize?” the boy asked, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“I saw her, in the Heart,” Gilla answered, moving toward me. “Our tents were near hers.” She looked up at me, frowning with concern. “Warprize, I am Gilla of the Snake. Please let me offer you the courtesy of our camp.”
Pive stamped her foot in frustration. “No, no. She can’t be the Warprize. She’s not stinky, she doesn’t have sores like a city-dweller. And she doesn’t breathe fire!”
“PIVE!” Gilla scolded. “Be silent!”
“Pive, come with me.” The boy extended his hand. “We need to cry the others in for the night.”
Pive’s face lit up. “El, you’ll let me warble?”
“I will.” El smiled. “Bring your mount so we can get him a drink.”
Pive took up the reins, and the gurtle stood. “Want to hear how I captured her?” Pive asked.
El gave us an amused look over his shoulder before turning to listen to Pive as they walked off.
Gilla gave me a wry smile. “I am sorry, Warprize. Pive meant no offense.”
“I took none.” I slid down from Greatheart’s back.
Gilla gestured to the fire. “Please come and sit. Have you eaten?”
Greatheart ambled down to the edge of the pond for a drink. I kept an eye on him, not wanting to lose my mount. Gilla poured kavage, and offered me a mug.
“No, thank you, Gilla.” I walked to the edge of her fire. A childish voice rose in a long warbling cry behind us.
“They call the other children in, for the evening meal,” Gilla explained. “You are more than welcome to spend the night.” She looked in the direction that I’d come from. “Do you travel alone?”
I had to admire her subtlety. “Yes.”
She gave me an intent look. “Something has happened, hasn’t it. In the Heart? We’ve had no news.”
I nodded. “Can you tell me how to get back there?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Warprize, I’d offer to guide you myself, but I cannot leave. I have duties—”
“The children and the herds.”
“Just so.” Gilla may have been all of twelve or thirteen, but she acted like a woman my age. “I could guide you in the morning.”
I shook my head. “No. I can’t wait. And it might be dangerous to be seen with me.”
She sighed. “Very well. You’ll need to make good time, to get to the Heart before dark.”
Greatheart walked back to my side, and stood next to me. I checked the wrappings on my hands and then mounted. She eyed me closely as I settled onto his back. “At least let me give you gloves, Warprize, to protect your hands.”
I shook my head. “No. I take nothing except from my Warlord’s hands. Just tell me how to get there.”
“Follow that ridge, until it meets with a river.” She pointed off to the left. “Then just follow the river downstream. You will mount a rise and see the Heart laid out before you, Warprize.” She looked up into my eyes. “May the skies favor you.”
“And you as well. Thank you for your courtesy, Gilla of the Snake.”
She inclined her head, and I urged Greatheart into a trot. I’d demands to make, and a Warlord to claim.
The Heart looked different somehow.
Greatheart and I paused at the top of the rise, to get our bearings. And to give me a chance to work up my courage. It looked different, and this time, it wasn’t the size, or the shifting of the tents. There, beyond the herds, it looked like the place was buzzing with activity. People moving everywhere.
There were pyres burning by the lake shore.
My heart started to race within my chest. I tucked my satchel up close to my body. Nervously, I checked the bandages that I’d wrapped around my hands. Then I took a deep breath and wrapped Greatheart’s coarse hair between my fingers.
Greatheart was prancing slightly, my nervousness affecting him. I leaned in close, and whispered in his ear, “Easy, boy. Nothing is going to come between me and my Warlord.”
Greatheart snorted, then shook his head as if in agreement, pawing at the ground.
I sat back up, and took a quick look behind me. The dead had not appeared since I’d left the children, but the way my skin crawled, I felt their eyes on me.
I turned back, taking a last long look at the tent city below me. It teemed with activity, warriors everywhere, tents being taken down. Best to do this before we were seen and stopped.
Or killed.
I took a deep breath, crouched down and then cried out, digging my feet into Greatheart’s ribs. “Heyla!” I urged Greatheart on with my legs. “Run, Greatheart! Run!”
Greatheart leaped forward, down the rise. The grass flew under us, and within a few breaths we were down into the herds that were between us and the Heart.
Horses parted to let us through, some even running briefly alongside. Greatheart galloped, his hooves tearing at the ground, running full out. I leaned forward, staying low, trying to be less of a target. “Heyla! Go! Go!” I urged.
The horses’s muscles bunched and flowed under me as he ran. I tried to remember to breathe, and tightened my grip on his mane.
That quickly, we were through the herd and in the tents, still running hard. I saw brief glimpses of gaping faces, astonishment frozen there for the instant before we passed. No brandished weapons.
Yet.
No matter. I wasn’t stopping for anything or anyone.
Shouts rose behind us, but we were moving too fast for any to interfere. Greatheart seemed to know where we were going, since he headed straight for the large Council tent. He ran right up to the entrance, sliding and rearing to a stop. I slid from his back, and then hesitated. I didn’t want to lose him now. I kept my hand on his mane, and started to walk. I needn’t have worried. The wonderful horse followed me right into the tent.