by Andre Norton
She stood, pulled her friend into a strong warm embrace. “I greet a warrior who rides.”
Mayrin’s face flushed half in pride, half in embarrassment. “Jerrany doesn’t approve.”
He was quick to repudiate that. “I approve, dear heart. Given the choice, I would have you on my left, Romar on my right. It is the children I fear for. Who will care for them if we fall?”
His wife snorted inelegantly. “Who will care for them if you lose and evil comes howling about the keep walls? No, they will not be here but safely in the valley with Duhaun. I will be with you.”
Eleeri patted his arm. “You’re doing the right thing.” Mayrin left the room to prepare the nurse and those men who would accompany the children. She turned to Jerrany. “How did she convince you she should come with us?”
His look was wry. “By convincing me that short of binding and gagging her, I could not keep her at home. She quite simply said that she went with me; if I refused, she would follow anyway.”
He said nothing of the hot words added to that. Mayrin had been rude in all earnest to her usually adored husband when he had suggested she remain behind. She had reminded him—in words that seared his ears—how she had chosen to oppose her father in wedding Jerrany. She had then come into a dangerous part of the land with no other neighbors, no one to stand with them should evil find them here. Shoulder to shoulder she had fought beside him to clear small darknesses and dangerous beasts. She had never complained.
In this wilderness she had made a home, borne his children, cared for their people. And for all that time her brother had been with them. Romar was her brother in blood. Her twin. Half of her heart. She had believed Jerrany cared for him, as sword and shield-kin. Through all the years of battles and hard drudgery, Romar had aided them. The keep was not his. He had no share in it, but he had hunted for food, fought beside them as if it were. Eyes flaming, she had demanded if she was now supposed to forget everything.
Jerrany had protested. They were only making contingency plans. Romar might be dead. He might be somewhere they could not find to attempt a rescue. There were no assurances that Eleeri would ever return with word of Romar. And if she did, there were no guarantees he could he saved. If she were killed fighting beside him, the children must grow up without either parent.
Mayrin had ignored much of that. Was she to be no more than a brood mare? she had demanded. A subservient wife and keep mistress? Her father had cast her off for her refusal to wed where he chose. But he would take in his grandchildren and treasure them. Her head had jerked then, her eyes meeting his in defiance. She would not be lessened! He had accepted her as shieldmate as well as wife. Even Romar had been willing that she should fight beside them in those days. Now she would fight again—for her home, her brother, and the future of her children. Let him try to prevent her if he dared.
He had not. Rather, he had gathered her into his arms, filled with pride in her and fear for her.
“I would rather have no one else at my side,” he had told her. Yet within him his heart chilled. So many things could happen in such a battle. He must seek ways to ensure her safety even though she fought.
He smiled up at her as she returned now, taking her hands to draw her down beside him.
Eleeri was able to draw them maps both accurate and detailed. Once those were completed, Jerrany called an armsman.
“Take these to Ternan, tell him to make copies. I want two and they must be exact. Our lives may all depend upon it.” He glanced at Eleeri. “The man’s too old to fight, but his father was a scribe and a copier. As a boy, Ternan learned well of him. Now he serves us thus and as a tutor to the children.” He stood, moving restlessly about the room. “One set can go with the children. The other we will leave here in the muniments room as a record. I will also have Ternan write all that we plan.”
He saw the glance they gave each other. “No, I am not a fool. It is true if we die, dark may come. But think of this also. We may fall but in falling take our enemy with us. The land may be cleansed for our children and those who come after. I would have them know by whose hand and whose deeds this was accomplished.”
Eleeri nodded. To her it was natural. The Nemunuh had always sought to drag down the enemy who had slain them. To use one’s final strength to slay in turn the slayer was right and proper. She also made a mental note to visit the great room below her own keep once more. She would look for a weapon she could hide. Something unsuspected and easily hidden. If the time came she must use it, there would be something available. She hid a shiver. Better to die by her own hand if she was left helpless than to fall to that which held the Dark Tower.
Of course, she added to herself, if the enemy was so stupid as to suppose her helpless, it might approach. Her lips drew back against strong white teeth. In which case, it would not be she who died at her hands. She returned to listening as Jerrany went over the maps. Twice he called in men to give orders. Once Mayrin pattered away to return with more of the scarce paper. Finally they retired. The groundwork of their plan was laid; it remained only to add flesh to the bones.
With firstsun they were risen again, her friends watching from the bridge runestones as Eleeri saddled her pony in the courtyard behind them. She mounted, trotting across the bridge to join them.
“I will be just a little while.” She eyed those who gathered in the courtyard now. “Do not allow your people to act in haste. I swear to you these ones I bring are of the Light and will fight with us.”
Jerrany looked up, his eyes searching her face. “Always you have been of the Light, passing our runes of ward and guard. I do not think you are easily deceived, either. We will draw back to the keep when you come. Let your friends pass the bridge and they will be welcomed with all good seeming.”
She nodded, nudging the pony into a walk. Behind her Mayrin’s hand slid out to take Jerrany’s fingers in a hard grip. If these were true allies, Romar might yet be brought home. She strained her eyes as pony and rider diminished in the distance.
They waited. Then slowly something grew again before their eyes, resolving into one rider with a mount and four loose beasts who ran smoothly about them. Murmurs rolled up from those who watched; the sounds were doubtful but not yet hostile.
Taking Mayrin’s hand in a strong grip, Jerrany drew her backward. Now they stood waiting within the shadow of the arch that led to the courtyard. The group neared the bridge and from the dust began to resolve into its component parts. There were gasps of awe as they realized Eleeri was astride a Keplian mare. The mare pranced, arching her powerful neck and curveting proudly.
On the woman’s left a Keplian stallion paced, larger and finer than any could have believed. The pony trotted busily to her right. At her tail came a scarred mare and a younger stallion, only a colt yet already grown to rider size. At the runes they halted. Eleeri dropped casually from her mount to reach up toward the stone nearest her hand. The runes flared blue-green as she traced one of the signs. She stepped aside to allow the mare to approach in turn. A soft nose lifted to trace a sign, the light flamed higher. The stallion stretched out—with his touch the light became mist rising about the Keplian’s hooves. The other two closed in to touch and the mist rose like a tidal wave to engulf them.
Then it cleared. Before the wondering gaze of the keep’s inhabitants, all stood unharmed. Eleeri leaped to Tharna’s back, her sword lashed free of the sheath. In the sunlight it flamed gold and silver; blue fire dripped from the edge to splash over Keplian shoulders.
“With friends, allies, kin to the Light, I come. Shall we enter in welcome?”
Hand in hand keep lord and lady moved forward. “Enter in welcome!” Jerrany’s deep voice came.
Mayrin’s lighter tones counterpointed his acceptance.
Hooves passed over the bridge. The Keplians stood staring about them as they reached the courtyard. From the center of his people Jerrany walked forward. His hands lifted; Mayrin stepped to his side. She, too, raised a guesting cup as in un
ison they spoke the words of acceptance and welcome.
Then for the first time in a thousand years they were truly answered by one of the race who fronted them. Tharna’s head lifted.
*For the welcome of your gates, gratitude. To the lord and lady of this house, a fair day, good fortune, and a bright sun on the morrow.*
There was a long silent pause—then the cheering began.
14
Eleeri stood back to watch. The Keplians had understood the sound, she smiled to see their surprised pleasure. Then she drew Mayrin aside.
“You have a small amount of the gift. Is it enough for you to probe into the deeps of a mind?”
Her friend shook her head. “No, not with any but kin.” She laughed then. “Although Jerrany and I do share thoughts sometimes usually at just the moment we shouldn’t.”
“Oh?”
Mayrin giggled. “It was at a dinner for the Lord Terne of the Valley of the Green Silences. He’s a nice old man but very stuffy and pompous. It was kind of him to ride all the way out here and he only came to go over our fortifications for us. But he would keep on about the importance of having escape passages. We should have at least two, one known only to us. We were both sitting there trying to look interested and he just kept on and on. The next thing, I had this picture—” She broke off to snicker again while Eleeri waited patiently. “It came from Jerrany. It was of Lord Terne as a burrower, digging tunnels madly all underneath the keep until the whole thing fell in on him. Then this burrower with his face sat up in all the dust looking so surprised. I couldn’t help it.” She was laughing again, and visualizing it all. So was Eleeri.
“What did you do?”
“Muttered something about being needed urgently and ran. I got outside in the passage and just collapsed. Nurse came by and stood staring. That set me off all over again. It must have been almost half an hour before I could go back. Nurse said she hoped she was raising the children better. But when I told her, she was laughing, too.”
By now so was Eleeri. She’d seen burrowers. Small stout animals who did indeed have an air of surprised pompousness about them. She giggled along with Mayrin until Jerrany turned to look.
“What are you two hatching?”
His wife grinned. “Nothing—yet. I was merely telling Eleeri about Lord Terne.”
Jerrany grinned. “I remember that. I thought you were going to burst before you got out of the hall.” Then he sobered. “Since these ones say they are our allies, let us make plans with them. The evil spreads and grows as it drains power where it finds it. If we are to act in time, it must be soon.” He spoke not of Romar, but all knew what he meant. His heart ached for his friend Romar, who had always brought laughter and Light. Romar, who could not bear to be caged, and was now caged beyond his nightmares. Jerrany shivered.
“Let us make our plans quickly.”
His wife nodded. Eleeri moved forward. “The plans have already been made. These Keplians are the friends I spoke of last night. They it is who will attack to draw off the attention of the enemy. No normal mount would approach the tower, therefore my kin-friends have consented to bear the three of us thither. But us alone. Let your men, those you can spare, ride on ordinary horses to fight beside the Keplians who distract the enemy.”
“A reasonable plan, but will these two bear us willingly? I would hear it from them.”
The scarred mare moved up to reach out with her nose, touching his hand. *I will carry you to fight evil. To strike the Dark I will bear you willingly.*
Shenn nuzzled at Mayrin’s hair. *I, too. I will carry you.* He moved back in a half rear. *But we bear no human gear. You must ride us as we stand.*
“That seems fair.” Eleeri said nothing of her thoughts: that he was yet too young to carry the weight of saddle and gear as well as that of even a light rider.
Eleeri faced her friends. “One thing I would say. Beware of seeking to force your minds into full rapport with these. Their minds are not as ours. I think it is that difference that has moved gifted humans to slay them before now.” She gestured for silence when Jerrany would have spoken. “Yes, I share hearts with my friends. But from the beginning I never saw them as evil. The first time our minds touched, I was stunned, shocked, but then I opened my eyes and saw only those I loved before me. I no longer fear deep mind-touch. But your people have responded to it with such hatred that to my belief it is better you do not attempt it. Do you agree?”
“If you are certain of this,” Jerrany said slowly, “then you are right and it is safer we do not try. But we can speak ordinarily?”
“Yes. Speak aloud, and Theela and Shenn will answer by mind as they have already done with you both.”
He nodded. “Then let us check preparations.” He called and one of the men-at-arms came running. There was a swift consultation before Jerrany turned back to the waiting women. Most of the orders had been completed. If they busied themselves before nightfall, they might be ready to ride by dawn. Eleeri grinned cheerfully. Not too fast. She would have to return to inform those of her canyon that the humans agreed to company them. Then she could ride with Tharna and Hylan to meet her friends at the stream ford.
For the next few hours the Keplians stood studying the bustling humans with deep interest. They had moved carefully to the side of the courtyard, half hidden in the shadows as the light began to fail. From a half door a girl emerged then, a child of perhaps seven or eight. Behind her came a boy bearing a sheaf of hay. A water bucket swung heavily from the girl’s small hands. She bowed politely.
“Food and drink to the travelers, in the name of the Light.”
Tharna stepped up, and drank gratefully. *Thank you.*
Shenn had reached for the hay and was happily chewing his mouthful. The small boy giggled and stroked the soft nose within reach.
“He’s beautiful. Ask them what his name is.”
*I am Shenn, human.*
“I am Kiren and she’s Shevaun.”
The young stallion meditated a moment as he chewed. *You are the lady’s foals?* With that both received a brief picture of Mayrin.
They giggled. “Yes,” the girl agreed. “But humans say children, not foals.” She, too, stroked him gently. “You’re so soft. Do all Keplians have such soft fur?”
Shenn preened slightly. Beside him Theela snickered, a mental sending received only by her kin. Shenn tipped a warning hoof at her. He was finding these humans more than he had dreamed. The four Keplians listened as the children prattled on. It amused them to find they were at once treated as friends and equals in the conversation. There was no fear smell, no distrust of those who were different. The mare peered down at the intently childish faces.
*How do you know we are good?*
The girl appeared surprised. “No one could pass the gate runes who was not.”
*One who had great power might? A great Dark one?*
The child shook her head knowledgeably. “He might, if he was very, very strong, but the runes would still warn us. I heard Mother telling nurse about you. She said the runes answered to your touch, that they showed you to be of the Light.”
Theela absorbed that. The human girl was ready to trust easily, yet who was to say she was altogether wrong? Let them see how far she would move along that path.
*Would you care to ride?*
There were instant squeals of acceptance. Both children scrambled onto the mounting block in the courtyard center. The mare paced alongside and small light bodies squirmed into place on her sleek hide. She carried them carefully around the cobbles as her kin watched in amusement. From the door came a heavy step as it opened to reveal an outraged nurse.
The storm broke over the children’s heads. They should have been in bed; she had been hunting for them for too long. Already her bad leg was aching, and she had much to do yet before she could rest. Even the surprised Keplians came in for a scolding. They should have known better than to keep the children up so late, no matter how they brought up their own kind.
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br /> Still muttering, she swept the heirs away, but not before Shevaun had flung her arms about Theela’s lowered neck.
“Thank you for the ride.” She pattered off hastily after her brother as the mare stood motionless. So they were human foals. It was strange, and interesting, that the children had no fear of Keplians. They might have been taught to fear the abstract; but face-to-face with reality, they had trusted. Tharna had felt the first horrified recoil of her kin-sister as their minds had touched for the first time. That had changed with a second meeting and acceptance. She had watched and listened earlier as Eleeri warned the keep’s lord and lady. It might be that those two could never do more than read the surface safely.
But—her eyes gazed at the door through which the children had vanished—it could be that with a younger generation who had not learned the fears to hold them back . . . She reached for the remainder of her hay. There was no hurry; she would think on this for a while.
It was far into the night before all Jerrany’s preparations were done. Finally he returned to the solar where Mayrin and Eleeri waited. They, too, had been busy so that a pile of carefully chosen weaponry and items were stacked in one corner. A quick conversation brought all to a knowledge of what had been done by the others. Jerrany studied the marked candle. It was late. If they would ride early they must— His comments were interrupted by Eleeri. It would be she who left, but alone. Her friends should allow her time to reach the canyon, alert the decoy party, and ride back to the stream where she would meet them all.
“Bring the extra things you think to need on a couple of packhorses. They can be held to the rear of the battle with your own beasts as spare mounts should your men require them. Once the battle is joined, we ride hard for the tower. The Light go with us.”
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.
