by Andre Norton
Days slipped by. The colt spent more and more of his time walking on his own legs now, strengthening with the love and care showered on him. Tharna felt strange as she watched the human throw gentle arms about him. She felt the overflow of love as Eleeri stroked her son. Without consciously deciding to do so, she had steered their trail around the Keplian lands. Thus far they had met none of her own kind.
She feared their reaction if they did. How would they see her wanderings with this human? Worse still, how would they view the friendship between a Keplian foal and human? She could guess at that one. She had no desire to see her son slaughtered as a traitor. As they walked, she began for the first time to question her allegiances. She wanted to talk over her thoughts but feared to speak. This could still be some trick of a cunning and clever race. Perhaps the girl had fooled her. Time would doubtless show, if she made no foolish moves herself. She paced on, following the lead horse.
Unknown to Eleeri, they had been seen. Valley scouts had spotted them as they skirted the mountains, and watched the direction of their travel. They had not been close enough to see more than a girl with three horses, but they mentioned it to the next travelers they met. These were Gerae and his men, well astray to the northwest. With that information they rode hard to intersect Eleeri’s path.
*Do you believe we have left those behind?* Tharna queried as they slowed for the trailing colt.
The girl sighed. “I fear not. Indeed I had ill dreams last night, dreams of pain and death, of evil that swooped to drink blood.” She quickened her feet as Hylan caught up. “I think we need to rest for several days soon. Hylan grows stronger, but all this walking is still too much for him. He needs time to grow in peace, but where do we find such a place?” As they followed the path to the east, they had climbed around the foothills. High up as they were, all were able to see that far ahead there lay a river, glinting brightly in the sunlight.
“Perhaps there in the mountains beyond the river we can find a place to be safe. For Hylan to grow.”
The mare said nothing, plodding on. That direction seemed as good as any other to her. Only let the foal be safe. To ensure that, she would travel with a human, traverse her whole land, deal with demons and powers. Anything, as long as her beloved son survived.
She was young, Hylan her first foal. The coupling that had bred him had been, for her, a shocking experience. She had been overawed by the larger, older stallion. She had rebelled, but a bitten shoulder and several powerful kicks had subdued her. It was nature, but she was not eager to repeat the experience. At the moment she did not miss the company of her own kind.
That night as they camped, Hylan was better. Previous halts had seen him sore and leg-weary. But now, as the days passed, he was adjusting to trail life and his legs healed slowly.
This camp, for the first time he bounced as they halted. Eleeri went to him, running her hands gently down the slender legs. She massaged, stretching each leg in turn with a hand under Hylan’s fetlock. He made small nickering sounds of pleasure, enjoying the attention. Released, he galloped in a wide circle, bucking as he flew past. Eleeri laughed, turning to Tharna to share the moment.
“He’s improving. Soon he’ll be outrunning you.”
*I would give my life to have it so,* the mare sent soberly.
“Yes.” Eleeri’s mind turned back to their conversation of previous days. “Tharna, why are humans so afraid of your people?”
The mare was silent. Then she tossed her head. *Perhaps because we have never allied with the Light. Many stallions deliberately chose the Dark, so that we are all accounted evil. Shamans, others who seek aid to ride into darkness, all come to us. All humans know of us is that we carry them away, never to be seen again. Or that those of the Dark use us as mounts.
*Once as a foal I saw a human taken to the tower. It was just after the lord had come there. The man fought well. He cried aloud, calling on powers and struggling to leap from the stallion’s back. He failed.* Her hoof kicked idly at the turf. *I do not approve of this. Let the humans leave us alone, and we should do the same.*
Eleeri agreed with a short nod. The conversation lapsed as they turned to watch the colt again. Hylan had no time for serious discussion. He was too busy enjoying the warm evening.
The next day, across the plain they marched. If they found a ford or bridge, they could cross. If not, they must search. Something told Eleeri that safety might be found in the bordering mountains.
She had come to love the Keplian foal; for Hylan she would fight as ferociously as his dam. She was unsure about the mare, sensing Tharna’s own doubts about humans still. But it no longer mattered to her. She loathed the cruelty with which the Keplian had been handled. She would fight before she allowed Tharna to fall into such hands again.
Late that night she, too, wondered how others would act if their small company was spied. Other Keplians, of the true Dark or not, would surely seek to slay them all. She roused early and ate as she saddled the horse again. There was a feeling at the back of her neck that said to hurry, hurry.
Next morning they moved out, heading directly for the river at a brisk walk. Hylan bounced along, and the sun was warm on their backs. But still Eleeri was uneasy. She felt as if hostile eyes watched. She eyed brush to her right. Was the danger there? Where?
Then from the clump of trees toward their left came wild cries. Eleeri spun to see three riders bearing down on them. In one flashing look she recognized Gerae. So, he’d found them and now he came to count coup, to take his prizes.
Tharna was racing forward to fight, but spears held her off. Her opponents laughed as blood streamed from her wounds. They would ride around her, take the foal. She could only die with the bitter knowledge she had failed him. She shrieked, rising on her hind legs. If it must be so, it must be so. Better to die fighting for her son than to live and see him die before her. She plunged forward.
5
Behind her Eleeri spun her mount, then froze him with a mental command. Her hands moved even faster as bowstring snapped taut and arrow flew. She had always had an eye for bow skill, but the years of Far Traveler’s teaching and her own hours of practice had refined this even more. Now she shot, whipped another arrow to bow, and shot again. The men who fronted the frantic mare went down. Neither was dead, not for those fractions of a second before Tharna reached them. After that they were not only dead but bloodily so.
Gerae had seen them fall. He fled—at the fastest speed he could goad his mount to attaining. But arrows fly faster. Tharna had started after him, and as he slid limply from his racing horse, she reached him with teeth and hooves. Not until the body was all but shredded did she desist. Hylan stood by. To a small colt untouched, it was all very exciting, but he was hungry again. He whickered hopefully.
His mother leaped for him, running her muzzle over his body. He was uninjured. She swung her hindquarters to allow him to nurse and stood, deeply contented. The girl approached and Tharna made an ugly sound, a kind of low snarling.
Eleeri looked into her eyes. They blazed a terrible red. She’d never really noticed that before. But now that she thought of it, the mare’s eyes had always had a reddish cast. Oh, well, Tharna wasn’t a horse; it was probably the Keplian eye color. She moved forward, crooning to the colt. Her mind reached out to her friend as she did so.
Tharna was off guard mentally. For the first time the girl’s mind penetrated her surface thoughts. She swayed in shock. Ka-dih, what was this one to whom Eleeri had given friendship? A roiling maelstrom of emotion met her startled mind. Different. Terrifying. She disciplined herself. This was Tharna. They had traveled together, cared for Hylan together, fought to guard one another. This was a Keplian, she reminded herself, not a horse; she must accept Tharna’s differences and cherish the friend in her.
As she struggled, the mare stood motionless, waiting, poised like a predator. With a wild effort, Eleeri subdued her fears and walked forward.
“Battle-sister, is Hylan unhurt?”
“What is all this surprise, and is Hylan unhurt?”
The mare found mind-voice. *My son is uninjured, thanks to you and your arrows. But—* she faltered, *you still wish to travel with me?*
“How not?”
*You touched my mind truly. I felt it, I felt your shock, your fear. Others of your kind have done this and always they have then turned against us to kill. Will you now hate me and mine, seek to slay?* She peered down thoughtfully. *Once, when I thought of this, I wondered if reaching our inner minds sent humans mad. Humans hate and fear us as it is. Maybe to know us is to fear us even more.* Her skin shivered.
Eleeri reached out again. This time, knowing what seethed below the surface thought, she was able to control her instinctive fear. Gradually she made sense of the seething power, the blazing emotions, finding they quietened as she did so. It was as if her own lessening of fear soothed the mare’s. Using that knowledge, she smoothed out their emotions until both were calm again. She stood thinking as the colt nursed.
“Tharna, it seems to me that we act on each other.”
The fine powerful head above her nodded.
Eleeri leaned against a warm shoulder, absently stroking it. “That first contact with your mind was terrible. But when I thrust away fear and returned, it was no longer so frightening. Now, as my mind touches yours without fear, your mind, too, is calm.” She deepened the bond slowly and spoke then, asking the question she had thought before.
“Are you of the Dark, battle-sister? I do not think so, but those others did.”
The mare shook her head and stamped a hoof, bringing a squeal of indignation from the foal. He hadn’t finished yet. His mother should remain still.
*We are not born to the Dark, only to shade and shadow. Some make the choice to join wholly with the Dark, others do not. Long ago when the adepts warred, we were made. Why, we do not know. They made other races, too.
*Many of the stallions turn to the Dark, fewer mares. Our males are more warlike. The stallions resent humans, I think, for their fears, their hates, and for all that humans seem to have.*
“Would you turn to the Dark?”
The mare lowered her head to Eleeri’s shoulder. *Not now, battle-sister. You killed your own to save mine.* A soft nose brushed against a softer cheek. *I have always refused to speak your name. Now I do. Eleeri I name you. Battle-sister you have named me. Do you also name me as friend?*
The girl’s hands smoothed the warm hide. “I do so. Neither un-friend nor half-friend are you, but friend. Sister-kin, if you will accept it so, and kin to the small one.”
Acceptance and a shy pleasure radiated from the mare. Arms about the muscled neck, Eleeri stood for long minutes, savoring the communion. She loved horses, but they could only fill her loneliness so far. But this, this was fullness. A kin-sister, a friend, one to speak with who could reply. One to care for who cared in return. She pushed herself away and took down the bag where she kept her herbs.
“A good sister would care for your wounds.” She brushed on the soothing juices with gentle fingers. Her hands admired the powerful muscles, the sleek hide, the arched and flowing mane and tail.
Under twin pleasures of hand and mind, the mare relaxed, savoring the first deep communion she had ever enjoyed. Friendship wove its way through her being. Only with her mother had she felt this acceptance before. She felt the bitterness drain away, her hatred of humans who condemned what they could not understand. This one was not like that. This one had faced all she found, and accepted.
She felt as if she floated, trusting, serene. Long moments slipped by. She loved this one, battle-sister, friend, kin-kind. The Dark whispered to her—and was rejected. Who had need of such a night when sunlight beckoned? Besides, she knew well that always the Dark betrayed. So many of her kind had been seduced by its wiles, and lived only long enough to regret that seduction. She would not be one; she was shade and shadow, but not the Dark, never the Dark now that she understood the Light.
In perfect accord, the three set out on the last mile to the river. Hylan did not understand what had happened. He only knew that his mother and friend were happy. It was enough.
*Do we cross the river or follow it?* Tharna queried, scanning the plain doubtfully. In her mind Eleeri saw pictures of the Gray Ones who often roamed this area.
“If this is their place, best we get away. From your mind they’re no respecters of either of our kinds.”
They trotted hurriedly along the riverbank. No crossing could be seen and the water ran deep and strongly.
“Do you know this area well?”
Tharna shook her head. *I think the river runs far. It comes from the western mountains, and I have heard of a lake somewhere to the west also. The Gray Ones avoid the area; there are ruins there which are un-friend to their kind.*
“Good. Then we’ll go that way,” Eleeri said practically. “Any place they don’t like should be right for us.” She headed her mount upriver and the Keplians followed.
Now travel together was delight. They explored each other’s ideas and the mare heard much of what a different world could be like. About them the scenery was unchanging.
Eleeri had time to muse upon Tharna’s mind-pictures of the Gray Ones and what Cynan had said of them. It was possible Tharna’s enmity for the creatures colored her impressions to some extent. Still, Eleeri thought, they did not attract her as any kind of ally. They walked upright in a slouch. The head was narrow, with tooth-filled mouth and small red eyes gleaming from shaggy, dirt-matted gray fur. From Tharna’s memories Eleeri knew the brutes to be intelligent. Well, they could speak but rarely did. Their habits were such as to disgust most intelligent beings. They wore no clothes, nor did they carry weapons.
They were fighters if brought to bay, or in the grip of battle-madness. Otherwise they preferred to fight only when the odds were strongly in their favor. Like much of the Dark, they feared to cross running water. Until blood-mad, they would hold back from that.
Since they were nearing Gray One territory, Eleeri kept her bow ready now. Beside her the mare, too, was thinking. The way she and the human seemed to agree interested her oddly. The Keplians had no real legends of origin. There were only vague beliefs that they had been created by adepts during the ancient wars. Some had believed horses to have been the basis for that creation. They had been slain if they voiced that belief, though. No stallion would endure the idea. Yet it felt so comfortable to walk beside this human. So peaceful.
She watched the plodding pony. What would it feel like to bear a human like that? Not with saddle and bridle, but bare of back, feeling every shift and sway of the human’s body? She thrust the idea away, concentrating on Eleeri’s enjoyment of the day instead. She could read some of that. The river flowing by in crystal ripples, the stones’ gray hues, the brown of river earth showing in patches where stones had shifted. Shrubs and often large clumps of trees provided shade and shelter for many bright birds. For the first time Tharna found beauty pointed out to her, a mutual delight.
Their thoughts flowed together more casually now as they found pleasure in each other’s company. Hylan, too, seemed to be gaining in intelligence. The mare wondered about that. Could it be that such communion allowed him to find potential denied to others of his sex? Stallions mated and fought—that was their destiny. But was it? She followed the horse as her mind grappled with new ideas. She was certain that no one of her kind had ever been friend and sister-kin to a human before. Or if they had, it was time out of mind ago. No legends existed of this. No human had ever been moved to accept a Keplian as friend; always before they had fled or given battle when minds touched.
But this one had done more. And it was as if Eleeri’s acceptance of Tharna had opened new doors within the mare. As if—as if it were right that they be friends. The Great Ones of
old had designed Keplians. Had it been for this, to walk as their friends? The human—no, Eleeri—admired her friend’s beauty and strength. She spoke with pride that Tharna could outspeed the horse. There was love and friendship in her mind whenever she turned to Tharna or Hylan. Was this how it had once been intended to be?
The mare did not know, but she knew that this idea pleased her. Her kind lived in isolation even among themselves. A mare would fight savagely for her foal, but only as long as he suckled. After that, he was ignored. Would she cease to love Hylan once he grew?
She shivered her skin, to chase away the idea as she would a fly. Never. She would love her son as long as they both lived. Her head came up and, feeling the sunlight on her back, she leaped, twisting into the air. It felt good to unkink powerful muscles. She thrust up again and with a baby squeal of excitement Hylan followed suit.
Eleeri looked back and laughed as the Keplians bucked and bounced in the clear air. With their friendship assured, it was wonderful how Tharna had become almost a different being. The colt, too, was growing, in mind abilities as well as size.
*Race you to the river!*
They had drifted away as the water curved slowly to their right. Now hooves pounded as horse and rider, with the Keplian mare before them, thundered toward the line of trees again. Hylan fell back, baby legs unable to keep up with even a horse as yet. His indignant cry was lost in the drum roll of hooves. They halted at the river and drank while Eleeri puttered along the bank watching the current.
“Does a stream run from this to the lake?”
*As I remember, it does,* Tharna responded.
“Well, we’ll stay this side of the river until we reach it. The stream should be shallower and so should the river, once we’ve passed the lake. We may be able to find a ford then.”
The Keplian stared out across the water. It was true they could not risk crossing yet. Hylan was too weak to risk him in such a current. But the river was slackening; if it continued to do so, they might be able to risk a crossing soon. She would be happy to be out of the Gray Ones’ territory. More than one Keplian foal had fallen to their teeth, even mares weakened by birthing or accident. She sent agreement and wandered on along the water’s edge.
