by D. L. Kramer
Paki's next problem was the water skin. Moving quietly to the pack where the other skins were at, he pushed the others aside and tied it to the pack at the bottom. When they stopped to water the horses the next day, he would make sure to refill it.
Giving the camp one last check to make sure nothing else was out of place, Paki moved to his own small pack and pulled it to him. His fingers stroked the small strip of fur tied to one strap. The strip had belonged to a fox caught in one of his master's traps. A wolf had found the fox before Paki or his master, killing the smaller animal. With the fur ruined, his master had thrown away the carcass. Paki crept back that night, salvaging the strip of dark red fur. With his fingers still curled around the strip of fur, he moved closer to the small fire, letting its warmth move him back to sleep.
Morning came all too soon and Paki was awakened when his master pushed on him with one of his heavy boots. Paki had barely opened his eyes when he was grabbed by the collar and jerked to his feet.
"Where're are the packs with the water skins?!" his master demanded, shaking him.
"O--over there," Paki stammered, motioning towards the packs. He barely caught himself when his master released him, dropping him to the ground.
Trudging over to the packs, his master rummaged through the pile of skins. Paki watched cautiously as he pulled out one of the water skins, uncorked it and poured its contents over his face. When he was sure his master hadn't noticed the empty skin, he went about picking up the wolf skins before going to check on the horses.
Before he reached them, he knew something wasn't right. Leaping between the trees separating them from the camp, he was shocked to find the mare lying on her side, breathing heavily. Jumping lightly over the branch they were tied to, he untied her and knelt beside her head. She lifted her head and looked up at him, obviously in pain, before dropping back onto the ground with a heavy groan.
"What's the matter?" Paki asked quietly, stroking her head and neck. The stallion tried to lower his nose to them, but was unable to reach. When Paki felt his hot breath above him, he reached over and untied him. The stallion came around, nudging Paki's shoulder before standing protectively beside the mare.
Paki stroked the sick mare's head and neck, trying to figure out what could be wrong. She had eaten all right the day before and had eaten nothing the stallion hadn't. The same with the water they'd had to drink.
So engrossed was he in the mare, that Paki didn't notice his master's approach. It wasn't until his master snapped his leather strap across Paki's back that he jumped with a startled yelp. Trying to scramble to his feet, Paki stumbled under the stallion and was almost stepped on by the horse's huge hooves.
"Grab that horse!" his master yelled, motioning to the huge stallion with his strap. The stallion pinned his gaze on their master and took a couple of steps forward, hatred burning in his eyes.
Paki tried to grab the lead, but the stallion tossed his head, flipping it out of reach. Paki stumbled as the stallion took another step forward, pressing against him. He finally grabbed the lead, ignoring the burning pain in his shoulder as he moved his arm.
"Tie him over there," their master growled.
Paki started to turn the horse, but the stallion pulled against him as their master turned to the mare. Taking her lead and tucking his strap into his belt, he pulled her head up and began kicking at her shoulders and yelling.
"Stop it, she's sick!" Paki yelled, letting go of the stallion's lead to rush to the mare's side. His master grabbed Paki by the hair, swinging him to one side, then pulled his strap out again. Still pulling on the mare's head, he began to whip her about her head and shoulders.
Paki screamed again for him to stop. The stallion turned himself around as Paki cried out, then shot out with his hind feet.
Before Paki could react, the stallion kicked their master full-force, throwing him several yards. As the man writhed on the ground, the stallion turned again and bore down on him, trampling him beneath his huge hooves. Circling around, the stallion galloped over him again, not stopping until he returned to Paki's side. Paki absently noted that the big horse wasn't even breathing hard. The stallion stood over the mare, his nostrils flaring as he nuzzled her.
Paki sat, stunned by what he had just seen. The stallion had never been so aggressive before. Crawling back over to the mare, he avoided looking at the mangled body several yards away.
Tears almost blinding him, he stroked her neck again. Several of the lashes had cut the skin and bright red blood ran from the wounds. Standing up, he numbly ran back to the camp, found another skin of water and came back to the horses. Cleaning the cuts first, he then poured some into the mare's mouth while the stallion continued to nuzzle her.
He didn't know how long he sat there, just stroking the mare's head and neck while she panted and groaned, when he heard the jingling of a horse's harness on the nearby road. The stallion raised his head, snorting, but didn't move.
Paki looked up at him, then back at the mare before looking towards the road. He didn't know what could be wrong with her, but she seemed to be getting worse. Sweat poured off her body and her breathing was getting heavier. He looked back up at the stallion.
"I have to see if someone can help," he finally said quietly. "I won't be long, just up to the road." As if in answer, the stallion nuzzled his cheek, almost knocking him over.
Paki stood up, not thinking to brush himself off, and broke into a run towards the road. He saw the lone traveler before he cleared the trees. A man, wearing an unfamiliar bright red and gold cloak was riding casually along the center of the road. The man's sandy blonde hair was pulled back and tied with a leather thong except for the few wisps around his tanned face. His white stallion picked his feet up with a great deal of enthusiasm.
Bursting from the trees, Paki jumped onto the road in front of him.
"Please help me," he panted, his heart hammering in his chest. "My master's horses--one of them is sick, and the stallion--" Paki's voice trailed off as the full realization of what the stallion had done hit him. "Please help," he repeated weakly. "I don't know what to do."
The man pulled his horse to a stop. "Can't ye're master help his 'orse?" he asked, his voice accented with a rhythmical, faintly musical tone Paki had never heard before.
"Uh..." Paki's mind froze, not knowing what else to do. With a trembling hand, he reached over and touched the man's horse. The mare needed help, but he couldn't bring himself to tell this stranger that the stallion had trampled his master to death.
The stranger's horse lowered his head and nuzzled Paki almost reassuringly, then turned in the direction Paki had come from. The horse took a step in that direction, then paused to glance back at his rider.
The stranger gave his horse a raised eyebrow, then looked down at Paki. Paki stood, visibly trembling, wanting to beg the stranger to help him, but not knowing what to say.
"All right, lad," the stranger said, sliding from his saddle and leading his horse from the road. "Let's go 'ave a look at ye're master's 'orse."
With a sigh of relief, Paki jumped from the road and led the man back to the campsite, hoping the stranger wouldn't notice his master's body. He watched out of the corner of his eye as they entered the clearing, but the stranger didn't seem to notice it, intent instead on the two horses before him.
As they neared the mare and stallion, the stallion moved to stand between them, snorting.
"It's all right, boy," Paki said, taking his lead and pulling at him. "He's going to help the mare." He tugged on the lead, but the stallion refused to move. "Come on, boy," Paki pleaded. "I wouldn't bring someone here to hurt you again."
The stallion snorted one last time, then turned and let Paki lead him closer to the camp before tying him again.
As soon as the stallion was out of the way, the stranger took off his cloak and laid it across his saddle. He moved to the mare's side, making faint clicking sounds with his tongue. The mare raised her head when he touched her, her gentle, dark
eyes searching his. The stranger patted her neck, then felt along her stomach and sides. Lastly, he lifted her tail. With a faint chuckle, he sat back.
"She's not sick, lad," he said, looking up at where Paki waited anxiously. "Ye're about to have three horses to care for."
"I'm what?" Paki asked, shocked. Surely his master would have known if the mare were pregnant. The stallion snorted behind him and began pulling on his lead.
The stranger stood up, dusting himself off. "How long 'as she been like this?" he asked.
"She was lying down when I woke up this morning," Paki said numbly. He looked down at the laboring mare. "Will she be okay?"
The stranger paused to look up at the sun. "She should be," the stranger said. "Everything seems to be all right." The stranger picked his cloak up from his saddle again and swung it back around his shoulders. "What's ye're name, lad?"
"Paki," he replied. "At least, that's what my parents and master always called me."
"But it's not ye're name?"
Paki shrugged. "My mother said they called me that because I like to save things...like a rat."
"Ah, I see." The stranger nodded knowingly, giving Paki a wink. He looked over at the stallion, then back at Paki. "What happened 'ere?" he asked. "Where's ye're master?"
Paki's mind froze again. If the man thought the stallion was dangerous, he might kill him with the longsword buckled to his waist. "He--uh, he..." Paki began trembling again and tears filled his eyes.
"It's all right, lad," the stranger said, putting one hand on each of Paki's shoulders. "What happened 'ere?"
Paki looked everywhere but the man's sharp eyes.
"Lad," the stranger said gently. "Can ye tell me anythin'?"
Numbly, Paki shook his head. He didn't know why, just that his mouth wouldn't say what his mind knew.
The stranger took his hands from Paki's shoulders and looked around at the small campsite.
"Do ye 'ave anyplace to go after the mare foals?"
Again, Paki shook his head.
Looking around once more, the stranger turned to his saddlebags and pulled out several small pouches.
"When was the last time ye ate?" he asked, opening a couple and checking their contents.
Paki shrugged. "I had some berries and a root yesterday," he said quietly.
"Berries and a root?" the stranger repeated. "Hardly a meal. Come with me, lad." He decided on two of the pouches and put the others back into his saddlebags. He led Paki over to the dead fire.
Paki was curious when the stranger took a small, silver flute from his belt. When he played three notes on it and the fire burst into life, Paki jumped back.
"What's this?" the stranger asked, raising an eyebrow. "Ye've never seen that before?"
Paki shook his head. He cautiously passed his hand over the flames, surprised to find it was as hot as any fire.
"How did you do that?" he asked, awed.
"With a lot of practice," the stranger answered wryly. Sitting down beside the fire, he opened one bag and took out several pieces of dried venison. He tossed one piece into the crackling fire, then motioned for Paki's hand and gave him the rest.
"Why'd you put that piece into the fire?" Paki asked, closing his hand around the venison. He was suddenly aware of just how long it was since he'd eaten meat. Tearing off a piece and putting it in his mouth, he waited for the man to explain his strange action.
"As an offering," the stranger explained. "To one of the goddesses."
"Which one?" Paki asked, fascinated. He couldn't remember any of the gods' names and didn't know anything about worshipping them. His master didn't go to any of the temples or cathedrals in the villages they traded in and had forbid Paki to go to them either.
"Halona," the stranger smiled. "She's the Goddess of Good Fortune."
Paki looked thoughtfully down at the venison in his hand. Taking one of the larger pieces, he tossed it into the fire beside the stranger's.
"I could use some good fortune," he said quietly, looking into the fire.
"Looks that way," the stranger agreed.
They were interrupted when the mare groaned loudly.
"Maybe I should go check on her," Paki said, his voice worried as he turned to look toward the horses.
"Nicho will tell us when she's ready," the stranger said.
"Nicho?" Paki asked.
"My 'orse," the stranger said. He tilted his head and looked Paki up and down. "Can't you hear 'em talkin'?"
Paki turned towards the horses again, listening with all his strength. Birds and the slight morning breeze moving through the trees were all he could hear.
"No," he said, shaking his head and looking back at the stranger.
"Not with ye're ears," the stranger advised. "Up 'ere," he tapped his head.
"I don't hear anything there," Paki said, sitting down beside the stranger. Chewing on a second piece of venison, he looked over at the stranger. "What's your name?" he asked.
The stranger observed him for several seconds before answering.
"Ye can call me Kile," he replied. "Ye really can't hear 'em?"
Paki shook his head again. "Horses can't talk," he said.
"They talk to ye," Kile said. "The stallion likes ye a great deal."
"How can you hear them?" Paki asked, fascinated.
"I just learned to listen," Kile answered. He glanced over at the horses. Paki looked, too, and was surprised to find the stallion staring at them. "He says ye've been the only human friend he's had since 'is days as a plowhorse."
Paki's eyes grew wide. Except for his size, there was nothing that would suggest the stallion had once been a plowhorse.
"I want to hear him," Paki said, his eyes still wide. "Can you teach me how?"
Kile looked Paki up and down. "Where are ye from, lad?"
"My parents live in Edgewind," he answered. "I guess I was born there."
Kile nodded his head almost absently. "Can ye read or count?"
"I can count," Paki said, "But I can't read." He wondered what that would have to do with hearing the horses talking.
Kile watched Paki for several more seconds. "I can't just teach ye," Kile finally answered. "There's a lot ye'd 'ave to learn first."
"I can learn!" Paki jumped up. "I learned how to track and skin!"
"Hold on, lad," Kile said. "Ye've more important things to concentrate on now." With a motion of his head, he reminded Paki of the mare. "What'll ye do with three horses?"
"Um..." Paki stopped, looking over at the stallion, then the mare. He didn't want to be alone and this stranger seemed willing to teach him what he knew, but he couldn't just abandon the horses either. Indecision raced through him as he struggled for an answer his few years couldn't give him. "I-uh..." he faltered, almost desperate to find an answer.
"Ye could sell them," Kile suggested quietly.
Paki stopped, giving Kile a shocked look. The stallion and mare were his only friends. He had found comfort in their size before he learned what the night noises were. They huddled and slept together when their master was drunk. Paki even dreamed of taking them and running away, but the thought of selling them never occurred to him. He discovered that it repulsed him.
"I can't do that!" he exclaimed, pulling away from Kile. That this stranger would even suggest such a thing--
"Don't worry, lad," Kile said, pulling himself to his feet. "No Mo'ani would sit by and see a 'orse abandoned or sold if it didn't need to be," Kile paused. "Or three horses for that matter."
Paki looked at Kile warily. "What's a Mo'ani?" he asked cautiously.
"Ye saw my cloak?" Kile asked.
Paki nodded his head.
"The gold embroidery tells some people I was trained by Mo'ani 'imself. All of the Mo'ani Warriors wear red cloaks, but only those trained by Mo'ani 'ave the symbols."
"But who are they?" Paki asked.
"Mo'ani is the greatest warrior ever," Kile answered, almost reverently. "He served as Captain of the Guard under the l
ast three kings before the Archbishop took over the throne. Now 'e trains men to be warriors for the time when a king comes again to take back the throne."
Paki listened intently to Kile. He had never heard of kings ruling the land. His master avoided any sort of large city, so Paki's exposure to politics and religion was minimal. Whenever church guards, priests or bishops appeared in a village, his master hurried them on their way.
"What happened to the kings?" Paki asked. "How come the bishops rule the land now?"
Kile chuckled. "Ye're young mind is hungry," he noted. "Let's see to ye're 'orses first. When the mare's able to travel, we'll 'ead for someplace safe and I'll answer ye're questions then." Kile unfastened his cuffs and started to roll up the sleeves on his linen shirt. Ye're mare is about ready to foal, let's go see if she needs 'elp." Paki took the lead as they walked the short distance over to the horses.
Nicho stepped aside as Paki and Kile neared the mare. He nickered softly to his master, then walked to stand beside the pawing stallion.
To Paki's surprise, the head and front feet were already clear. The foal struggled as its mother groaned. Moving deftly and with practiced hands, Kile pulled the foal free as the mare gave a final push. As Kile cleared the membranes from the colt's nose and mouth, the colt kicked himself over as he took his first breath.
Rolling back onto his stomach, the colt struggled to get to his feet, only to teeter and fall over. The mare snorted to the foal, picking her head up slightly as Kile finished securing the broken cord behind her.
"Well, help 'im over, lad," Kile instructed, nodding to the colt. He picked up the water skin Paki had discarded earlier and washed his hands with some of the water, then poured some into the mare's mouth. As the mare pulled herself up onto her stomach, Kile walked over to untie the stallion. As soon as he was free, the huge horse trotted to the mare, nuzzled her, then walked to stand beside Paki as he struggled to move the foal next to his mother.
With a few unsteady steps, the foal tottered to the mare, then lay down again beside her.
"Let's leave 'em be," Kile suggested, coming to stand beside Paki. "It looks like ye've got a healthy colt there now. Besides, ye've got to go through ye're master's belongin's and decide what ye want to take with ye."
