As he passed, they turned curious eyes upon him but did not speak. When he neared the orchard, Florm and Thaniel exited the trees and came pounding up to him. They gazed at each other for a moment and then Aram flung an arm around the neck of each great animal. A strange and potent feeling surged inside of him.
“My friends! My lord and my brother! It is so good to see you.” He stepped back and looked at them. Both horses appeared sleek and looked well. Florm chuckled deep in his throat.
“You have been lonely then, lord Aram?”
Aram grinned. “It was a long winter and I missed you both.”
“It has not been winter now for some time. Have you been alone all this while?”
“Well, no, not exactly.” Aram answered sheepishly. “I’ve been to Derosa.”
“Ah—so that is where the hawk sent the eagle? Good.” Florm nodded. “Excellent. And how was your visit there?”
“They are very grateful for what we did for them.”
“All fine and well,” Florm agreed, “but I’m more interested in the future than the past. Did you make friends among your own kind?”
“Yes. One—well, two or three, actually, in particular.”
“I am happy to hear it.” The horse lord turned and looked toward the city. “Your bear seems to have been successful in finding companionship also. We’ve tried to give him space but he seems to have developed as strong a sense of proprietorship toward this city as you have. I think he finds our presence here somewhat irritating.”
Aram stepped aside and looked around the horses. Borlus sat in front of his grotto gazing about him with his small eyes. Beside him was another bear, smaller, with reddish fur like rusted iron. When Borlus spotted Aram, he stood up eagerly on his hind paws like a small man.
“I should go speak with him.” Aram said.
“Yes,” Florm agreed. “And when you are finished, there is someone I would like you to meet as well.”
Aram looked at him curiously. “Indeed. I will return momentarily.”
Borlus fairly quivered with joy when Aram knelt and put his arms around the bear’s neck.
“It is good for you to return, master.”
“I’m happy to see you as well, Borlus.” Aram answered. “Who is this?”
Borlus turned toward the small, cinnamon-colored female and coaxed her forward. “This is my mate, master. Her name is Hilla.”
Aram bowed solemnly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Hilla. Welcome to our valley—may it be your home for a long time.”
Looking into the tiny eyes, he thought he saw surprise. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and muffled.
“Thank you…lord Aram. Borlus is good.”
He stifled the quick surge of laughter and spoke quietly. “Yes. I am aware of that. Borlus is my friend. I am glad that you are here, Hilla.”
Again, he thought he saw surprise in her small, shrewd eyes. He turned to Borlus. “Has anything of note happened while I was away, my friend?”
“No, master. Except for the coming of the horses, all has been quiet.”
“Good.” Aram touched the bear on the shoulder for a moment, gently grabbing a quick fistful of fur. “I have to take care of something with the horses now. In a day or two, you and I will take a trip around the valley and check on the state of things.”
There was pride in Borlus’ voice as he answered. “Yes, master. Good.”
When Aram returned to Florm and Thaniel, two horses—Jared and another, had joined them. This new horse was one Aram had never seen. It was almost pure white except for a hint of cream its mane and tail, and the lines of its body were gentler. He was certain it was a female.
“My spouse,” Florm said. “Ashal.”
Aram bowed low. “It is a great honor, my lady.”
“My husband has told me much of you, lord Aram.” The voice was low and smooth like quietly flowing water, without the innate and ancient tone of worldly wisdom that often pervaded Florm’s or the solemn intensity of Thaniel’s. But it was cultured and gentle, like that of someone highborn and yet humble. “We are fortunate that you have come into the world.”
Aram felt himself in the presence of a queen and at a loss for the proper thing to say. He bowed again, clumsily. “Thank you, my lady, but I am but a simple man.”
“My husband speaks of you quite differently—and in my experience, he is seldom wrong.” It was a gentle and kind reproof. Aram acknowledged it with a slight smile and a glance at Florm and he bowed again.
“I am pleased to meet you, my lady.” He said simply.
Florm stepped forward. “Will you come to the end of the avenue with me, lord Aram? There is something I wish you to witness.”
“Certainly.” Aram took his pack that he’d dropped earlier and moved it to the side of the avenue and then he accompanied Florm, Thaniel and Ashal back down the avenue toward the river until they reached the intersection by the four pyramids. Florm made a sound deep in his throat that seemed to carry around the valley then he turned and addressed Aram.
“Lord Aram, allow me to bear you to your city.”
Aram looked at him. “Bear me—?”
“Yes.”
Puzzled, Aram mounted the back of the great black horse and with Ashal on his left and Thaniel on his right, Florm walked slowly with high, proud, and deliberate steps toward the city. Out of the fields and orchards to either side, hundreds of horses came and lined up along each side of the avenue. As Florm, Aram, Thaniel, and Ashal passed, each animal separated its forelegs, moving one back and the other forward, and bowed its head low.
At the end of the procession, as they approached the walls of the city, Aram saw that the lines of horses stretching along the avenue were anchored by Jared on the left and the great dappled gray horse, Huram, on the right. When they reached the wall, Florm turned to face down the avenue and asked Aram to stand before him.
Obediently, Aram dismounted and walked out a few paces and turned to face Florm, uncertain as to what would happen next. Florm, Thaniel, and Ashal bowed to him. Then Florm spoke and though he spoke with his mind, his voice filled the valley.
“Aram,” he said. “Lord of the city of kings, heir of Joktan, and enemy of Manon the enemy of the world, hail. We, the people of Boram, the ancient and honorable father of horses, declare today our allegiance to you and the renewing of our alliance with men.
“Command us and consult with us; we are your allies. Find riders from among your people that we may bear into the fires of war and onto the fields of battle. This alliance shall stand as long as you, and we, live, and until the enemy of the world is driven from earth or we are separated by death. So say we all.”
Aram stood in stunned silence as all around him, from up and down the great avenue, the chorus of voices swelled inside his mind until it seemed that his skull would burst.
“So say we all.”
Florm straightened up and looked at Aram who was still too astounded to speak. “My friend, the die is cast. You have become Manon’s greatest enemy. He may not know this but we do. It is clear to us that we must either cast our lot with you or suffer his wrath and see our own destruction if we will not wear his chains. We choose to cast our lot with you.
“All who would be free, man and beast, must rally to you. Kelven, in his wisdom, foresaw your coming. Now you have come. Let us dissemble no more. Together, let us do what must be done.
“Now, what say you, my friend?”
Aram pivoted slowly and looked down the broad avenue, lined with several hundred horses, all watching him. And suddenly, something happened to him. The slave from the plains dissolved completely away. A man of strength and will stood in his place. He felt the mantle of destiny fall across his shoulders as surely as the sun shone upon his head.
Perhaps it was simply a natural result of all that had happened in the previous seven years. But certainly, the metamorphosis was contributed to by the realization that someone like Ka’en was alive in the world. If men were allowed to rule thei
r own destinies and those like him and Florm governed the world perhaps he and Ka’en could come together and build a life of peace and contentment without the specters of war and death always nearby. He looked around at Florm.
“Can everyone hear me?”
“Yes.” The horse answered.
Aram stepped to the center of the avenue. “I cannot see the future.” He said. “I can barely see the road immediately before us. I don’t know whether we will all live or die before the resolution of this matter. But this I do know. We will fight for our liberty.
“I will rally my own people and instill in them the resolve that I see in you. I will find men who can ride and who can use the sword, the lance, and the bow. When Manon sends his armies against us, we will destroy them. And when he has no more armies to send, we will go to him and draw him out.
“I do not know how Manon may be brought down. But the Maker did not intend that the world should languish in the chains of slavery. There is a means, there is a weapon, and there is a method by which Manon may be ejected from the world. This I promise—before the end, I will discover it.
“May the grace of the Maker be with us all.”
When he ceased speaking there was silence for a long moment. Then, slowly at first but gaining in volume, there arose a sound that began at the deepest limits of his hearing and became a roar that filled the valley. It was the sound of the horses’ approval.
Standing there, surrounded by the unearthly sound rendered from the minds of hundreds of unmoving horses, Aram realized that a line had been crossed. The world had entered a new age. And it was largely up to him to determine the direction that age would take.
The sound died away and Florm released the horses to go back to their grazing in the lush grass of Aram’s valley. Then he turned to Aram.
“What news of the enemy since last fall, if any?”
Aram sat down on his favorite rock by the orchard. “Nothing moves upon the plain near to Derosa and there is no word from the hawks that anyone has entered this valley. Findaen, the son of the Prince of Derosa, has commissioned four of his men to go west below the hills and discover whether Manon’s army has regrouped or if another has replaced it.
“They are expected to return within the next two weeks. Later, I will go and hear their report.” He paused and gazed around the fields at the horses. “It appears that I must also find men from among their ranks that are willing and able to be borne by your warriors, my lord.”
Florm spoke sharply. “There are no warriors here, lord Aram. Not among my people.”
Aram looked at him in surprise as Florm continued. “There are only two people here that have ever been to war—you and Thaniel.”
Aram stared. “But you, my lord—”
“I never went to war, my friend.” The horse answered quietly. “I told you that I was but a colt when this city was breached and abandoned. It’s true that I came of age before the battle on the plains that ended the war but there was great attrition among your people before the end. There were always more experienced horses than there were men to ride them into battle.
“I had two older brothers, besides uncles and cousins. More men died in those battles than horses. I was given rudimentary military training but never was there a man for me to bear into battle.” He hesitated for a moment, gazing down across the valley as if uncertain in his mind about something, and then seemed to come to a decision. “Besides, there was another task for me that day, required by the great king himself, which took me far away from the battle.” He looked back at Aram. “So you see my lord, you and Thaniel are the only warriors here.”
Aram considered this astonishing news. “Well, we are starting from the very beginning then. Everyone will have to be trained.”
“Indeed. There is a need for training, for horse and man alike.” Florm answered. “Horses first, I think, and then men.”
Aram nodded. “Yes, and we’ll need armor for both. There are craftsmen in Derosa that may serve. We can use Thaniel’s armor and mine as templates. When men and horses are paired up then armor can be fitted to each.” He looked out at the many horses. “One thing is certain—we are going to need more men.”
“Have you gone to any cities of the south and southwest?” Florm asked. “I have heard that there are those that as yet have not come under bondage to Manon.”
“Findaen mentioned as much,” agreed Aram. “But I have not gone.”
“Perhaps such a journey should be undertaken sooner rather than later, my friend,” Florm suggested gently. “We have many more horses than men at the moment.”
“I know. But raising an army is a new thing for me. Those of the southern plains and the cities along the sea do not know me. I am not sure how they will be convinced to join us.”
The great horse shifted his weight and gazed south. “You will find a way, my friend. I am confident of it.”
Aram was silent a moment. “We might as well begin with what we have. There are many good men in Derosa. Besides,” he continued thoughtfully, “whatever the scouts say when they return; I need to go west and look with my own eyes to see if the enemy has devised anything new for us.”
“I will bear you,” Florm offered. “Or Thaniel can go.”
Aram shook his head. “Depending upon what Findaen’s men say, I believe we have time—a year or two perhaps. I don’t think Manon will strike blindly again. He himself will send scouts. I would rather go alone and be able to move quietly and unseen. Then I will know how much time we have and how we can use it wisely.”
Florm acquiesced to this by saying nothing. The two of them watched the grazing horses in silence for a time. Aram thought about Ka’en and how he would like to get back to Derosa. But Florm was right—they needed to train these eager young horses and the level fields and rolling pastures before his city were as good a place as any to begin that process.
“How long can you stay?” He asked Florm.
“Two months, maybe three. I don’t think we should leave our mares and colts alone much beyond the middle of summer.”
“Then we’d better devise a system of training your people quickly and make the most of our time.”
Over the next few days, Aram, Florm, and Thaniel discussed how best to train horses to behave on the battlefield based on Aram and Thaniel’s limited experience. There were eight hundred and seventeen of Florm’s people who were able and willing to fight. Calling upon Florm’s remembrances of ancient fighting tactics, Aram decided to divide them into five regiments with the older horses in the first three that would lead any charge in battle and the others in two reserve regiments.
He taught them to charge straight across the open field at an imaginary line of enemy represented by shafts of willow stuck into the ground and then cut to the left or right at the very last moment. By moving sharply left or right in unison at the moment of contact they would strike the lances of the enemy at an oblique angle rather than straight on, limiting injury to themselves.
He taught them to wheel, to flank, and to move together. Even though he was acting on instinct rather than formal military training and the horses were all as equally inexperienced, by the end of spring they looked quite solidly martial maneuvering around Aram’s green valley.
Most of the time, Aram rode on Thaniel during the training sessions but sometimes he would leave it to Thaniel to lead and then he would watch from the walls as they charged, wheeled, and retreated from the field. Then he would try to think like an enemy and imagine the actions he might take when facing the host of horses. When he conceived of something that might be done to debilitate the charging horses, he would make the necessary adjustments.
Ultimately though, until they faced a real enemy in battle, everything they practiced was based upon conjecture. Nonetheless, they learned to obey orders in a unified manner and to maneuver upon the ground while running flat out and they learned to keep a firm line as they rapidly covered the ground.
By mid-summer, Florm and Aram
were both satisfied with the progress that was made. Florm was anxious to return to the high plains and check on his people and Aram was just as anxious to return to Derosa and hear the report of what Findaen’s men had found to the west. Mostly, though, he just wanted to see Ka’en again, though he said nothing of this to Florm.
There was another ceremony when the horses lined up on a pleasantly warm summer morning to bid Aram goodbye and then the great host turned and went in an orderly manner toward the river and the hills beyond. The many hooves pounding upon the stones of the avenue sounded like thunder rolling across the valley. Florm, Thaniel, Ashal, and Jared stayed behind momentarily to take their private leave of Aram.
“I am pleased.” Florm said, watching his host of young recruits flow down the avenue.
Aram nodded. “As am I, my lord. If I can find enough good and strong men as willing as your people, we’ll have the beginnings of a cavalry that can face anything Manon sends against us.”
“You will need infantry as well.”
Aram nodded again. “We’ll start with the men of Derosa. Those that can ride will ride. Others will be pikemen, swordsmen, and archers. If we can then stand up to—and make some progress against—the armies of Manon, others may join us.”
“The men of the world have a simple choice, my friend—to join us or go into darkness. They must be made to understand.” Florm looked at him. “I will come back before winter to hear what you have learned, Aram. Communication between us is important now.”
“I will have Alvern the eagle watch for your return so that if I am at Derosa, I may come and meet you.”
“Are eagles in your service as well, my lord?” Asked Thaniel.
Aram laughed. “No one is in my service, lord Thaniel—we are all in league with one another.”
“That cannot be—there must be leadership, lord Aram.” Ashal said quietly. “The race of men has always led the fight against Manon—and you must lead this one. We have promised you our allegiance, others will, too. Accept it. The whole world must join this fight. My husband believes that you are the man to lead it. Lead it.”
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