Mistress of Animals

by Myers, Karen

  Then she noticed the silence in the kazr and glanced up at the others. Khizuwi was standing at the front and looking down at her, over the heads of several people. “If the newly betrothed would care to rejoin us…”

  She felt the heat in her cheeks, and when she eyed Najud, she saw he was in no better case.

  “My apologies, jarghal,” Najud said. “Happy thoughts.”

  Khizuwi’s mouth quirked. “I understand. Blizzards are always good for marriages and child-making.”

  Jiqlaraz’s stiffened posture caught her eye. Was this news to him? Didn’t his nephew tell him?

  Suddenly Najud’s warnings took on an unexpected weight. There is something very wrong about that man. He can’t seriously have expected me to join his… breeding program, can he?

  She shifted uneasily and returned her attention to the discussion.

  At the next impasse in the planning, Penrys stood up. “Here’s what we can’t do. Let’s be clear on that so we can concentrate on what’s possible.”

  The side conversations quieted.

  “I can’t scout to find out where she is, not without being detected. My range is about five miles, but hers must be longer since she reached your clan-kin at the High Pass.”

  She pointed upward. “That includes flying. So, unless I can sneak in while she’s sleeping and attack her from the air before her wolves notice, let’s assume we can’t sneak up on her or ambush her.”

  Looking at their outraged expressions, she sighed. “I know you’re all fine warriors—this has nothing to do with that.”

  She let them settle back down. “I think I’ve heard some good ideas here. There must still be plenty of horses with her, and Bimal’s notion of swooping down to round up a herd and forcibly mount all the prisoners has merit. I can even help with that, by weakening any residual bikraj power they have so that the illusions are easier to resist.”

  She left unsaid her fear of what would happen if she drained them and was then killed before she was able to restore them. Their core power, such as it was, should gradually refill, as it did for true wizards, but she wasn’t sure it would work that way.

  “That means, Bimal, that you might find it harder than usual to function as dirum, for a while. I don’t know how that works for you…”

  She trailed off and looked a question at Khizuwi, who just shrugged in response.

  “And there’s another possibility. Perhaps I can shield you when you go back and keep her from just controlling you again.”

  That brought a look of hope to several faces, and she shook her head to discourage them. “There’s no way to test that without alerting her. I don’t even know if I can shield myself. So if I try that and it fails…”

  She glanced at Najud, and saw him straighten up and frown as if he suspected what she would say next.

  “Or we could try distracting her. She has a lot to handle, all those animals and people. She lost lots of animals along the way, especially at the beginning, but even now, after all that experience, she lost those horses we found. And you—you escaped her. And she hasn’t come after you.”

  She had their attention. “She’s not invincible. She can be killed. And I can give her something else to worry about while the rest of you do a raid through her herds and scoop up the people.

  “The bikrajab have been learning to shield as a group. If they go with you, that should make it harder for her to recapture anyone, and if you stick together, you might make it out to the gap. And I’ll see how well she can manage to attack on two fronts simultaneously.”

  She sat down and yielded her place as speaker. Najud glared at her and she dropped her eyes, while Khizuwi rose to his feet.

  “This is not the way that bikrajab deal with a qahulajti, when there are people in the way who might be hurt. But there are too few of us…”

  Penrys noted his expressionless stare at Jiqlaraz.

  “… and even if there were more, this is different sort of qahulajti, this chained bikrajti girl. I don’t know that ten of us would make any difference to her. It may be better to split our forces in this way, to try and save the most lives.”

  Jiqlaraz rose abruptly and interrupted. “But even if our distinguished jarghalti here succeeds in the distraction and escapes herself, what’s to prevent this qahulajti from pursuing us? We must capture or kill her eventually.”

  “Capture?” Najud asked, from his seat on the canvas floor.

  Jiqlaraz flushed and turned to him. “If possible. By all accounts she is just a youngster, a yathbantudin. Perhaps she can be… tamed.”

  He glanced pointedly at Penrys who stared blandly back, then showed her teeth in a little snarl. “I don’t think you’d find that rewarding,” she commented.

  Jiqlaraz turned away from her.

  Khizuwi said, “She hasn’t pursued these people from her lost herds. Perhaps, as the bikrajti suggests, she has more than she can handle. The blizzard alone must have caused her difficulties, as it did us. Clearly she can’t control the weather, too, or we’d have seen sunny days instead.”

  The subdued chuckle around the room helped ease the tension, and Jiqlaraz sat down again.

  Najud rose heavily and joined Khizuwi, in his role as zarawinnaj and in the unstated and possibly disputed role as leader of the wizards. Khizuwi’s presence at his side muted any issues the wizards might have with that, and Penrys admired the maneuver.

  “And so, we have a plan. To go a distance into the valley from the gap, that distance yet to be determined. Penrys to seek out the qahulajti and distract her,”—the faint quaver in his voice shook her—“and everyone else to gather people, by force, and tie them to horses, while the bikrajab shield them all. Bimal and others will round up horses and bring them to the people. We’ll need saddle blankets and girths, clothing, and little else.”

  He paused. “We’ll set up the other three kazrab before we go and leave everything else behind. If she catches us, there’s nothing we can do, and if she doesn’t pursue, we’ll need the shelter to treat everyone.”

  Najud looked over at Penrys, who tried to share her sympathy with him. “This is what we will do.”

  He turned his attention away from her again. “Now, let’s talk about the details.”

  “You can’t protect me from harm,” Penrys told Najud, late that evening, in the privacy of their kazr, its lowered flap ensuring no interruption. “Not really. No one can.”

  She lay in his arms in the dark, her back to him.

  “It’s what I swore to do,” he replied eventually, in a low voice.

  Silence from him again for a moment, then he gritted out, “I understand the logic of the plan.” He was tightly shielded from her, and it dismayed her.

  Finally he throttled a cry of frustration. “I didn’t expect it to be so hard.” He turned her toward him roughly, making his claim on her survival desperately, in the only way he could, and she responded in kind with a fierceness that surprised her.

  Afterward, he dropped his shield, and held her, tenderly. *Did I hurt you, Pen-sha?*

  *Never. You couldn’t. But I’m hurting you, going into this fight alone, and I’m sorry for it.*

  She tried to show him her love for him, how he filled her senses and her heart, but she wasn’t sure how much got through. *You’re mine as much as I’m yours, Naj-sha, and I want you to be careful tomorrow. It would grieve me beyond telling if any harm came to you.*

  She ran her fingers lightly down his chest, marveling as always at the firm male muscles, and he shivered.

  “We won’t think about it, then,” he muttered, leaning over her. “I know of an excellent distraction.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Penrys watched Najud survey his little troop of impromptu warriors at the top of the gap. She closed her eyes to rest them—the day was sunny, and the snow blinding.

  The trail broken by the horses when the survivors were discovered was still quite clear and eased the work of the animals, but from there to the gap itself was
another three miles, and the residual track through the snow left by the escapees hadn’t been as wide.

  She reached out into the valley and felt herd animals, and a clear group of people about three miles away, with a faint whisper of more further out. The first of many, I hope.

  They’d brought every horse they had, tied in long strings behind the ridden ones. The camp was empty, every kazr erected, including all four of the big shelters—their fires damped—and the shabz still hanging in the rafters of the original three kazrab.

  This first ten miles and all the preparation had eaten half the morning, but they were ready now. All except the wizards. They’ll never be able to fight her off by themselves.a

  Before they left, Penrys had tested the joint shield raised by the other four wizards, with even Munraz helping. It was reasonably made, for so little practice, but she tore through it, as gently as she could, with ease. Privately, she’d told Najud, “You can’t rely on it for defense. There are just too few of you. Better use it for stealth.” She’d been doubtful it would help even there, but there was no good reason to discourage them.

  She took a deep breath now and held it for a moment, then exhaled with a sigh and dismounted.

  After leading her horse to the end of Najud’s string and tying him on there, she trudged forward through the snow until she reached his leg, and looked up at him briefly.

  “The first group is there.” She pointed with her entire arm, giving him the direction. “No more than three miles, I think. Ten of them, and plenty of horses nearby. There are others just beyond—I’ll have more to tell you once I get into the air.”

  His hand came down on her shoulder and gripped it, hard, through her sheepskin coat. “Be careful, my heart.”

  She raised her own gloved hand up to cover his. “And you. Good luck.”

  With that, she raised her scarf over the lower part of her face and checked that the knitted cap from Neshilik was firmly in place. Then she backed a little distance down the now flattened path between the horses, and took a few running steps to launch into the air, her wings exploding as she invoked them.

  She circled the group once, then headed down into the vale.

  Once aloft, Penrys quickly outdistanced the riders. She glided over the first cluster of people to confirm them for Najud. *Ten people, where I said. Alive but not moving around much. Horses to the east of them, dozens, about half a mile away.*

  For the next hour or so, she continued south further into the vale. Every time she located another bunch, she made sure she circled back within range of Najud to tell him. Altogether she located fewer than fifty people, and there were no groups smaller than six. As she passed overhead, she drained any fragments of wizard power she found, to make it easier to break their holders from the commands imposed upon them, just as she’d done for Bimal, Lurum, and Haraq before they started.

  Horses were abundant, if the riders with Najud could herd them and keep using them for the rescue. That’s his problem now, not mine. My problem… Where is she?

  She probed everywhere in a five mile circle and found no trace of the girl who’d caused so much grief.

  By then, Najud had moved on to the second group she’d identified for him, and she extended her distance from him one final time to its maximum range. *That’s all I can find from here. Don’t go any further—anyone else will have to take their chances. I’m moving on.*

  His reply came back faintly. *No matter what happens, come back to the camp. I’ll wait for you there.*

  *I hear you, Naj-sha.*

  There was a pause, and at the last moment she heard his *Good hunting, beloved.*

  And then he was out of range.

  She tried to put him out of her mind and concentrate on what she was seeing. They must be right—she’s staying in this valley for the winter. The snow isn’t as deep, and the horses have reached the grass in lots of places, so they’ve been here a while.

  Miles went by while she shielded herself and scanned for someone else on the ground, someone like her, like the Voice. There was nothing, nothing but the chilly air on her face and the occasional herds below, in the snow. The woods that lined the western edge of the valley were visible to her right, a couple of miles away or so, and they stretched southward before her for miles.

  Several animals caught her attention from the same direction, animals new to her. In the instant it took her to realize they must be wolves, she felt her shield blasted away, and a strange mind-voice intruded. *My animals. Mine! You must fight for them.*

  Penrys’s vision was overlaid with grasslands to the southwest, where she knew there were woods, and in all other directions were fires, the fires she’d seen once in Ellech when an entire grove on a mountain slope burned after a lightning strike.

  It’s not real. The ground is flat and snowy.

  She fought away from the southwestward pull, disoriented. She could hear the roar of the fire approaching, the crack of trees falling, where no trees existed. The hot air around her in all directions except from the southwest made her body disobey her in panic, and she twisted and flailed in the air trying to regain control. All of this took time.

  The feel of air rushing up at her penetrated past the struggle into her conscious thoughts.

  Which way is up? Where’s the ground? I can’t see the ground!

  Najud stored Penrys’s information as it came in and monitored the shield the bikrajab were clumsily holding over everyone.

  The first group of ten people set the pattern for the rest of them. Dhalmudhr and his companions walked through them and told them, over and over, “Rescue. This is a rescue. We’re going to put you on horses and take you away.”

  Some of the meaning must have penetrated, since everyone stopped and let themselves be moved around. Like Dhalmudhr’s people, they were ragged and very lean, but tough. They each had some sort of footwear, but Lurum and others supplemented their clothing with gloves and blankets from the packs a couple of the horses carried.

  Quick teamwork saw Bimal and Winnajhubr rounding up horses from the nearby herd Penrys had told him about, while Dhalmudhr’s people got each person mounted on a led horse, even if all they had was a saddle blanket from the pack frames cinched on and some rope loops for simple stirrups.

  They filled an entire string of the led horses this way, not even bothering to untie them first, while Jirkat and Ilzay helped the returning Bimal and Winnajhubr tie the newly retrieved horses into a string to replenish the supply of mounts. A couple of months of unharnessed freedom had taken their toll, but the horses were less energetic in their winter semi-starvation than they might be and most of them submitted to being put to work again. Any horse that wouldn’t cooperate was turned loose—speed was paramount.

  The first batch of survivors was ready in half an hour and Najud put Haraq and Lurum in charge of them. “Back to the gap. Take them all the way into the camp and settle them down.”

  He watched as they got started, and then led his diminished force on to the next cluster, based on Penrys’s reports.

  There’d been no interference from the qahulajti yet, and Penrys hadn’t found her. How long could that last?

  It was mid-afternoon by the time they worked with the last group of people Penrys had located before she flew out of range, and there’d been no word from her. She was well overdue.

  Najud fought to keep his mind on the people they were rescuing, but he was numb, obsessing over her silence. She found the qahulajti, clear enough. Must have. Where? Is she alive? Why hasn’t she come back?

  This last set of survivors made five batches, and they still had horses in strings ready for more, but no way to find them. They were ten miles from the gap by now, he thought, and ten more to the camp, and these wouldn’t get there until well after dark.

  Each group had been hastened back with two leaders in charge, and as he sent this last bunch off, he looked around at what was left, mounted and waiting for him—all the bikrajab, worn out from concentrating on
the continuous shielding, Dhalmudhr and Bimal from the survivors, and the original three Kurighdunaq trackers, who’d refused to leave. He’d tried to send Munraz out with this last group, but Jiqlaraz wouldn’t let him go.

  “Now what?” he asked them. “Your zarawinnaj seeks your advice.”

  The long day working together had worn off Winnajhubr’s youthful shyness. “No word from the bikrajti?”

  “No.” Najud swallowed. They all needed to know details. “Not since the second stop. She was fine when she flew out of range, but that was hours ago.”

  Khizuwi said, “There’s been no sign of the qahulajti or her wolves. That can’t continue. Do we know where the next people are?”

  Najud shook his head. “This is the last she found before going on. There may be more, or not—we don’t know.” He glanced over at Dhalmudhr, who spread his hands and shrugged.

  While Jirkat argued with Dhalmudhr about going on, Najud felt an ominous pressure, as though a thunderstorm were building up rapidly on the horizon, and all of nature noticed and hunkered down. It came from further down the valley, from the south.

  He remembered the frisson he’d felt when he’d been tied like a goat in the path of the Voice, in Neshilik, and had felt him approach.

  “Run!” he cried, acting on instinct. “Run for the gap. She’s coming.”

  They obeyed him in an instant, all uncertainty banished, and pulled their strings of horses behind them in a clumsy trot through the snow.

  Najud and his companions quickly caught up with the latest batch they’d sent ahead and hurried them along.

  After a couple of miles, the pressure he felt vanished. He called to Khizuwi, “I think she must be on foot and we’ve just gotten back out of her range, but I’m sure that was her. No one we’ve spoken to mentioned her riding—perhaps she doesn’t.”