Lightnings Daughter

by Mary H. Herbert

  "Bregan, you and I will ride with Lady Gabria. Piers, you go with Tam, Sayyed, and Secen. You two,"

  Athlone said to the last warriors, "are on your own. Go first. Don't get lost and don't stop to chase the women." The two warriors saluted and trotted out of the woods.

  Gabria threw her arms around Nara's neck. The world suddenly shimmered through the blur of her tears. "By Amara, I am going to miss you,” she whispered to the mare.

  Nara gently pressed her head against Gabria's back, enfolding the woman in the curve of her neck.

  And I you.

  "I don't want to do this. It doesn't feel right."

  I will be close. You only have to call.

  Gabria sniffed and smiled lopsidedly. "Like in the marshes?" she asked, remembering that awful day she'd been forced to leave Nara behind to seek the Woman of the Marsh alone.

  Yes, but this time you have friends with you. Trust them. They love you. I wil be waiting when you are ready for me.

  Gabria nodded. Lovingly she traced the white lightning mark on Nara's shoulder before she patted her again and stepped away. A sharp nudge almost knocked her over. She twisted around and found the foal nearly stepping on her feet, Tam hanging onto his wispy mane. Treader sat beside her, his ears drooping.

  "Good-bye to you, too, little fellow,” Gabria said.

  The colt whinnied shrilly in reply.

  Gabria was about to take Tam's hand, but the girl's stricken expression made her pause. The child's dark eyes were huge, and a trail of tears had blazed tracks through the dirty smudges on her cheeks.

  She doesn't want to leave us, a light, childlike voice said in Gabria's mind.

  The sorceress started in surprise; this was the first time the colt had sent his thoughts to her. She knelt by Tam. "You must understand,” she said to the girl, "we are going to a big city. We cannot take the Hunnuli. It would be too dangerous for them, and for us, as wel ."

  Treader barked. She thinks she'l never see the horses again if she goes away.

  "They will wait for us,” Gabria explained patiently. "When we return from the city, they'l come down from the hil s and greet us." She took Tam's chin and lifted her head up until the girl had to look at her. "All you'll have to do is whistle and they'll come." She smiled. "You can whistle, can't you?"

  The little girl grinned through her tears and nodded.

  She wants to know if we wil be gone long, Treader growled.

  "No. Only a few days. All right?"

  The colt bobbed his head, Treader woofed loudly, and Tam let go of the Hunnuli's mane to take Gabria's hand.

  "That was some conversation," Athlone remarked as Gabria settled Tam on Piers's horse.

  "Do you know what's really amazing? Tam never once opened her mouth. She can send her thoughts to these animals just like the Hunnuli do."

  "Good gods," Athlone exclaimed. "Is that a natural part of her talent or something she learned to do?"

  "I don't know," Gabria said. "I hope we can find out one of these days. It certainly is a useful ability."

  The little girl sniffed loudly and wiped her nose on her sleeve, then she waved good-bye to the Hunnuli and settled comfortably against Piers's back.

  Gabria touched the healer's knee. During their preparations he had sat on his horse without speaking or moving. Now, as he glanced down at Gabria, she was startled by the haunted expression on his face. His normally pale skin was deathly white; his thin features were pulled tight with tension. His hands were clenched around the saddle horn.

  "Are you all right?" Gabria asked worriedly.

  He nodded and drew a long, ragged breath. "I did not expect to feel my memories so sharply."

  Gabria understood completely. "Face them," she whispered, "and you wil find they are only ghosts." She waited while the healer considered her words, then he relaxed a little and took his hands off the saddle horn.

  He squeezed her hand. "I'll see you at the warehouse." He reined his horse around, and he, Tam, Sayyed, and Secen took the two' remaining packhorses and rode off through the trees. Treader ran ahead of them.

  Reluctantly Gabria threw an extra saddle blanket over the withers of the pack mare and mounted.

  It felt so strange to sit astride such a smal , thin horse. She gathered the reins and cast one last look at the Hunnuli, then she fol owed Athlone out of the trees and back to the path without a backward glance.

  Before long, they trotted their horses over the last rise and down into the fertile Serentine Val ey.

  Here, this close to the sea, the valley was so wide that the travelers could barely make out the hills on the opposite side. The land was so fertile almost every square acre was used for crops, pasturage, or vineyards. Huts, cottages, barns, sheds, farmhouses, and outbuildings of every kind were scattered on both sides of the river. The closer the riders drew to the city, the more numerous the Cottages and houses became. Inns, hawkers' stands, and shrines appeared along the road. The caravan trail soon changed to a stone-paved road as other trails and paths met and joined it.

  The flood of people, carts, wagons, and animals on the road increased with every step closer to Pra Desh. Gabria and her companions had seen several caravans and small groups of riders on their journey, but they were not prepared for the crowded, swarming populace that lived in Pra Desh. The clanspeople had never been to a city this size, and the largest group of people they had ever seen in one place was at their own clan gatherings. This city was mind-boggling. Even Piers, who was a native Pra Deshian, had lived on the open plains long enough to be taken aback by the throng that rushed purposeful y back and forth. They crowded into the markets, crushed into the streets with a seemingly endless tangle of animals, pedestrians, and conveyances, and shouted, sang, talked, and bel owed in every known language.

  Gabria tried not to let her mouth hang open as they fol owed the road into the city, but she could not hide her wide-eyed amazement at everything she saw. There were so many new things to look at!

  Pra Deshians were fervent in their worship of their one god and his prophets, and built shrines and temples at every wide spot by the road. There were also open markets, shops, tenements, stables, and huge houses all along the great caravan route.

  The road passed through the outskirts of Pra Desh, past a guard post at the official city limits, and into the city proper. Customs officials were checking loaded wagons and collecting taxes from irate drivers. A squad of five guardsmen in purple tunics helped enforce the col ection. They were too busy to notice the small groups of dusty clanspeople that rode by. Gabria breathed a sigh of relief as she, Athlone, and Bregan passed the guard and were lost to sight in the crowded streets.

  They stayed close together in the streets, fol owing the road as Khan'di had instructed. It stil paralleled the river into the heart of Pra Desh's market district. They passed the huge fish market, the meat mongers' street, and the livestock market. One street seemed to be dedicated to the leather trade and another was obviously for bakers.

  Along one particularly busy street, Bregan reined his horse closer to Athlone's and leaned over.

  "Lord, I don't think this city is at war yet," he said over the noise of wagons and pedestrians.

  Athlone glanced around. He had come to the same conclusion. "You're right. But have you noticed the number of armed men in the crowds? The city looks like a fortified camp. The Fon's invasion must be coming soon."

  "So we have come in time," Bregan replied.

  Gabria, riding close by, said, "I don't think there's much time left. I've been watching the people and they seem to be in an ugly mood. They don't like al the soldiers in their midst."

  "I wonder how much cooperation the Fon is getting from the Pra Deshians,” said Athlone.

  "We'll find out tonight from Khan'di,” Gabria said.

  The chieftain nodded once. "If he comes."

  The travelers rode on in silence. After a while, the road curved away from the river and left the busy market streets behind. The riders passe
d through an entertainment district of theaters, libraries, and a huge amphitheater to a quieter residential area. The houses here were two-story stone and wood edifices set back from the streets behind privacy walls. The houses were older and showed signs of age, but most of them were well-maintained and their gardens overflowed with flowers.

  The road began to rise up a gradual slope until abruptly the riders reached the old city wall. There was a wide gap between the houses and the towering wall, and Gabria felt vulnerable as she rode across the open space to the gate. The Sun Door was a high, arched entrance with two tal gatehouses to either side. A rising sun was carved on the huge wooden door that stood open to allow traffic to pass. More soldiers, these wearing the red of the Fon's own guard, stood on both sides of the entrance and careful y scrutinized those who passed through.

  They ignored the glares and the ugly remarks hurled at them by the city people who went by, but they kept their hands on their swords at all times.

  As unhappy as she was to leave Nara, Gabria was glad now the Hunnuli mare had stayed behind.

  The guards would have noticed the huge black horse instantly. As it was, they still paid more attention to Gabria and her companions than she cared for as she and the two men rode by.

  Athlone nodded to one guard and passed under the arched gateway as if he'd done it al his life.

  Bregan and Gabria were quick to follow. The road led them deep into the maze of crowded, crumbling houses and dark al eys of the old city. Then, unexpectedly, the road split. The right hand way led uphil , and the left gradually dropped down toward the harbor.

  Athlone reined his horse to a stop in the middle of the fork and studied each road.

  "Which way, Lord?" Bregan asked, coming up beside him.

  "Khan'di said to look for the tall buildings with the flags,” said Gabria. "But I don't see any."

  The three gazed at the city around them. To their right and atop a huge hil sat the temple of Elaja, its white columns and facade shining in the late afternoon sun. On a neighboring hil to the south was the magnificent palace of the Fon. Even from a distance the riders could see the palace's multi-storied wings and the crenellated wall that surrounded the huge edifice.

  Several buildings close by seemed to be barracks, and Athlone thought there was a dangerously large number of soldiers about. The presence of so many armed men around them alarmed him, so thinking quickly, Athlone spurred his horse to the left fork and trotted downhil . To his relief, the way opened up after a block or so, and he saw the ful expanse of the busy harbor. At the bottom of the hil , just outside the city walls, were rows of tall buildings, each flying a different colored flag. Beyond those were the teeming wharves and the great crescent-shaped harbor.

  Athlone allowed himself a grin of relief. He had not fancied the idea of asking a guardsman for directions. By the time the riders reached the rows of warehouses, the sun had sunk below the tops of the hills, the sign for laborers and workers to end their day. Athlone, Bregan, and Gabria found Keth and Valar loitering in the shadow of an al ey between two warehouses. From there they watched the wool house and kept track of the workers as they left.

  "Where's Piers?" Athlone asked when he dismounted.

  Keth shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't seen him or the Turic."

  "You don't think he's lost,” said Valar.

  Athlone scratched his beard. "I doubt it. Piers knows this city better than any of us."

  "Maybe he went to find old ghosts,” Gabria said, as if to herself. The men glanced at her in surprise.

  "Well, we can't look for him. He'l have to make it here on his own,” the chieftain noted. He took his place in the alley and waited for the remaining workers to leave the warehouse.

  Twilight settled into the streets of Pra Desh, and the warehouse workers slowly filtered out and left. No one noticed the five riders waiting in the heavy shadows between the buildings.

  At last the street was empty. Athlone was about to approach the warehouse when three horses, two packhorses, and a dog jogged down the street. The chief stepped out to meet them.

  "Where have you been?" Athlone demalJ.ded.

  "Gathering information of our own,” Piers answered. He helped Tam down from the horse.

  Athlone crossed his arms. He had been more worried than angry. "You could have been betrayed to the guard."

  "Not by the people I talked to."

  "You real y don't trust him, do you?" asked the chieftain.

  "Khan'di?" Piers's shoulders shifted slightly under his healer's robes. "Yes and no. I trust him only as long as we are useful to him."

  Athlone agreed. "All right. Listen to him tonight and tell me afterward what you think."

  The healer nodded with satisfaction. He had dreaded the possibility that Gabria was walking into a clever trap set by the Fon, a trap that sported Khan'di Kadoa as bait. Two magic-wielders would be an invincible weapon in the Fon's hands. But after what Piers had heard this afternoon from old friends and connections in the Healers' Guild, he doubted Khan'di was planning to betray Gabria.

  It was common knowledge around the city that the Kadoa family had suffered severe financial losses because of the Fon.

  Khan’di's wife and son were in hiding, and several other family members had been arrested and had subsequently disappeared into the depths of the palace. The powerful Kadoa family had no reason to love the Fon and every reason to dispose of her. Several contacts had even hinted to Piers that Khan'di, as the most influential nobleman left in Pra Desh, stood a chance of assuming the coronet of the Fon if she were removed. Piers knew his former friend well enough to know that possibility alone would be enough to ensure Khan'di's trustworthiness. The healer patted his mare thoughtful y. He would be very interested in hearing what Khan'di had to say tonight.

  At a word from Athlone, Piers handed his reins to Sayyed and followed the chieftain toward the fifth warehouse. The others stayed behind to wait.

  The huge timbered building loomed above them, dark and strange in the deepening twilight. The warehouse's big wooden sign creaked in the night breeze. Athlone stifled a shiver as he looked up at the building. Its unfamiliar size and blank walls made him distinctly uncomfortable.

  He was about to knock on the warehouse entrance when the door was whisked open and a short, portly man rushed out. The man was going so fast he did not see Athlone and slammed full force into the big Khulinin. Both men grunted and staggered back. The stranger would have fallen if Piers had not caught him.

  The man gasped at the sight of the two strangers at his door and threw his hands up in alarm. The hand lamp he was carrying swayed wildly.

  "It's all right," Athlone hastened to explain. "Khan'di sent us."

  The sound of that name seemed to reassure the man, for he straightened up and looked closely at the two men in the light of his lamp. When he saw the healer's face, he lit up in amazement. "Piers Arganosta! I thought you were dead!"

  Piers grimaced. "I've heard that a lot today."

  "You probably don't remember me,” the Pra Deshian said with a grin. "I was quite a bit thinner in those days."

  The healer studied the other's face for a moment, then he smiled in recognition. "Lord Athlone, this is Sengi Kadoa, Khan'di's younger cousin and a page to the Fon."

  "The old Fon,” Sengi corrected, his voice edged in anger. "Today I am a wool merchant and---" a devious look flashed across his features in the lamplight “---a spy. That woman on the throne looks to me for mercantile advice." Sengi looked around and ushered the two men into his warehouse. The door opened into a room obviously used as an office. He lit another lamp, and in the increased light the two men were able to get a closer look at their host.

  Sengi bore a strong resemblance to Khan'di in the shape and density of his body frame, the heavy lines of his features, and in the ruddy coloration of his skin. But where Khan'di's eyes were sharp and calculating and his expression readily showed his cunning intelligence, Sengi's face was placid and his eyes were frame
d by skin crinkled from laughter.

  The merchant straightened his rumpled robes with nervous hands and flicked his eyes from one man to the other. "Did Piers say 'Lord Athlone?'" he asked after a hesitant pause. "You are a clan chieftain?"

  "Of the Khulinin,” Athlone replied shortly.

  The Pra Deshian's expression melted in obvious relief. "Did you bring the sorceress? Is she here?"

  Athlone jerked his head toward the door. "Outside."

  "Ah, praise Elaja!" Sengi clapped his hands. "Please, bring her in. The warehouse is empty. She will be safe."

  "What about our horses?"

  "There is a closed shed in back I use for the dray horses. There is enough room and grain for yours.

  Grain, ah!" He smacked his forehead. "I'll be back." With that, he bustled from the office, deeper into the warehouse.

  Piers met Athlone's eyes and shrugged slightly. "He's always been like that. Busy. But he's an honest man to his friends. He'll do what he can." In a short time, the travelers settled their horses in the shed behind the warehouse and gathered in the office to wait for Sengi. He came back carrying a bottle and a tray of food. His eyebrows went up at the sight of al the people, their gear, and the dog.

  "Goodness. I did not expect so many." He looked over them all, especially Sayyed and the little girl, and was rather puzzled. "Is the sorceress with you?"

  Gabria stepped forward to meet him. She untied her scan and lowered the veil from her face. "I am Gabria."

  Sengi blinked at her, then he smiled with welcome and relief. "Your disguise is good, Lady. It hides your fairness like a leather bag can hide a jewel. Please, come."

  The merchant, still carrying his tray, led the party into the main warehouse. Even in the darkness they could sense the vast size of the room and hear its echoing emptiness.

  "My stock is low at the moment,” Sengi said, directing them toward the building's rear. "The Fon has not interfered with my business as she has with Khan'di's, but she has imposed heavy taxes on all of us to finance her plans for war. I expect more wool soon from the north country." He shook his head.