Arrow's Flight

by Mercedes Lackey

  * * *

  He turned his head to look into her dark eyes, wide and drowsy with content. "Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?" he asked softly. "You didn't ask," she said sleepily. "Why? Is it that important?"

  "I don't think I'd have loved you if I'd known."

  "All the more reason not to tell you," she pointed out logically. She nestled closer to him, her head on his chest, pulling blankets over both of them. "But I'm glad it was you."

  "Why?"

  "Among other things, my gossiping Heraldic sisters were right. It was... a lot nicer than I'd been led to believe first times usually are."

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  "A compliment?" he asked, amused.

  "A compliment."

  A thought occurred to him. "Wait a minute. I thought you and Skif..."

  She smiled, the first real smile he'd gotten out of her in weeks. "That's what you were supposed to think. It was awful— we both had horrid schedules, and we were so exhausted that we kept falling asleep before we could get anywhere."

  She told him the comic-frustrating tale of their abortive romance, and how it had finally culminated in their swearing blood-brotherhood, rather than bed.

  "Poor Skif! And poor Talia," he chuckled. "You knew he'd be teased half to death if that tale got out, didn't you? So you let everyone think otherwise."

  "Mm-hmm. Poor Skif..." she yawned, "victim of unrequited lust." She was falling asleep in his arms, and as much as he hated to disturb her, he knew that he'd better.

  "Wake up, sleepy. If you don't want to greet the dawn with a headache, you'd better have some food in you, and something to drink besides that devil's brew. The last thing you need is a hangover in the morning, and as potent as that stuff is, you're likely to wish you had died if you let it give you one. And we may be warm now, but we're going to wake up cold and stiff in the middle of the night if we don't make up a better bed. After all we've weathered, I'd hate to see you cramped in knots for want of a little sense."

  She yawned hugely but didn't protest. They both rummaged out clean bedclothes and pulled them on. While he ladled stew out of the pot over the fire, she remade their "nest" with everything she could find to use as a blanket. He made hot tea, and they drank it with their meal.

  They bedded down in each other's arms after he'd banked the fire, seeing no reason now to return to their practice of separate beds.

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  "I'm awfully glad this happened now," she said before he drifted off to sleep.

  "Why's that, little bird?"

  "Two sleep warmer together than two alone... and it's getting a lot colder."

  * * *

  Kris was pleased to discover that (unlike some lovers he'd had) Talia was a quiet sleeper; not at all restless, and not inclined to steal the blankets (which was, in his opinion, the quickest way to ruin an otherwise satisfactory relationship). He found her presence oddly comforting, and an especially good antidote to the howl of the wind outside. He woke once when Tantris tickled his mind into wakefulness; he and Rolan wanted out. He was very grateful for the tiny entranceway this Station possessed; it wasn't part of the usual design, but with crowding he could fit one Companion and one chirra inside and still close the door to the interior before opening the outer door. If the exterior door had opened directly into the station as was usually the case, every time he had to let them out he'd be letting most of the heat they'd built up out with them.

  The wind hadn't slackened in the least, and the snow was still coming down as thickly as before. It was definitely daylight, but he couldn't even tell where the sun was, much less see how high it was. It took all his strength to keep the door from being blown out of his hands; he realized then that this was why they'd awakened him and not Talia. He'd left halters and lead-reins on the chirras, which the Companions used to lead them outside.

  One more advantage of chirras, he reflected wryly. You can't housebreak mules.

  The scrape of a hoof on the door signaled their return. He managed to hold to the door and slammed it behind them, but in spite of the buffering of the entranceway, their exit and re-entrance had stolen a noticeable amount of the heat from the room. He built the fire back up after filling the biggest pot they had with clean snow, then carefully groomed all four of ice and 146

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  snow. He made sure they were comfortable, and noticed with a smile that all four of them lay in a close-packed group, with chirras on the outside and Companions in the middle.

  "You're too clever by half," he told Tantris, and smiled at the Companion's amusement-laden reply.

  :Given the choice, would you take the outside? They've got the coats for this, brother-in-soul— we haven't!:

  He was grateful for Tantris' nonchalance; both the Companions seemed to be taking the events of the previous night as simply one more obstacle to be met and dealt with, rather than an insurmountable disaster. That heartened him, for he expected to need their help.

  He hung the pot full of half-melted snow over the fire, then banked it again before returning to the bed that was looking better by the moment.

  When he slipped in beside Talia he got another delightful surprise. Instead of pulling away, Talia actually hugged his chilled body to her warm one until he was no longer shivering, despite being three-quarters asleep herself. There never, he reflected as he drifted back to dreams, was a truer test of friendship!

  * * *

  When he finally woke of his own accord, he judged that several hours had passed; it was probably late morning or early afternoon. There didn't seem to be any real reason to get up; the winds still howled with the same ferocity outside. "I wish these Stations had a window," he said drowsily, "It's impossible to tell if it's still snowing or not."

  "No, it isn't," Talia murmured sleepily in his ear.

  He hadn't realized she was awake. "No, it isn't, what?"

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  "It's not impossible to tell if snow's still coming down. Listen, and you can hear it on the roof and windward walls. It has a different sound than wind alone. It kind of hisses."

  Kris listened; she was right. There was a hissing undertone to the storm outside. "How did you know about that?" he asked, more than a little surprised.

  "Comes of sleeping in the attic. There're no windows in the attic of a Hold house, and that's where all the littles sleep. If you wanted to know what kind of weather to dress for, you learned to recognize all the sounds that weather makes. Where are you going?"

  "Now that we're awake, I'm going to get the fire built back up."

  He got an armload of wood from the stack he'd brought inside earlier, exposed the banked coals, and soon had it blazing again. In spite of the heat given off by the banked coals, the room was icy; the chimney was cleverly baffled, but the wind was still succeeding in stealing some of their heat. He was quite chilled by the time he was satisfied with the state of the fire. When he slid back in beside her, Talia again snuggled up to warm him.

  "That's definitely above and beyond the call of duty," he said, when he'd stopped shivering, "Thanks."

  "You're welcome. Consider it payback for last night."

  He deliberately misunderstood. "Bright Havens, little bird, you keep surprising me! I hadn't the least notion there was such a sensualist under that serene exterior."

  She played along. "Why shouldn't there have been?"

  "You surely didn't show any sign of it. And you certainly haven't been...

  practicing, shall we say?"

  "I hadn't found anyone I was enough at ease with before this except Skif, and that liaison seemed to have a curse on it!" There was rueful laughter in 148

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  her voice. "But it wasn't that I lacked interest; I never told you about Rolan."

  "What's Rolan got to do with this?"

  "Remember I told you that he's always in the back of my mind? That I always know what he's doing,
and I can't shield him out at all?" Her expression was a little shadowed as she realized she couldn't shield anyone out at the moment.

  "So?" he prompted, "Why would you want to?"

  "Nighttime in Companion's Field gets very interesting... and Companion mares share another characteristic with humans besides the gestation period." When he looked blank, she sighed. "They're always 'in season,'

  oh, wise counselor."

  "Good Lord. And if you can't shield him out..."

  "That means exactly what your filthy mind is thinking."

  "Secondhand experience?"

  "Something like it."

  He pulled her head to rest comfortably on his shoulder. "Talia, I'm sorry I didn't see the state you were in, and I'm sorrier I didn't do anything about it."

  "Oh— I—" She sobered immediately when he mentioned her emotion-storm. "Gods, Kris, what am I going to do?"

  "We."

  "What?"

  "We. You, me, Tantris and Rolan. This is not the total disaster you seem to think it is. Let's take the easy things. First of all, you've learned something you won't forget. Now let me tell you a little something, Queen's Own. The reason you're out here is that you'll see every kind of 149

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  problem you're likely to run up against at Court— only out here it will be much more clear-cut, much simpler. You learn how to handle it where it's easy to deal with, instead of plunging right in and drowning. Take somebody who's held a grudge for so long it's an obsession. You've seen it once now, would you recognize it again?"

  Talia thought about how she'd felt when the girl looked into her eyes; the odd chill she'd sensed. "Yes," she said at last.

  "And do you think you could handle it?"

  "Maybe... I think I'd have to get an assist though."

  "Good for you. Before this you'd have said 'yes.' Now you realize you might need help. You're learning, greenie. Now the hard part. Your Gift has gone out of control; we have to get it back under control again. I'll be willing to bet part of the reason for it going was that nobody recognized you need special training— training to keep your own emotional state from feeding back on your Gift. I'm not even certain there is such a thing."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "Because I can't think of another Queen's Own in living memory that has had as powerful a Gift as yours. I've never heard of empathy strong enough to be used as a weapon. Talamir certainly didn't have it— nor Keighvin before him. I don't even know that there's a Healer around with empathy that strong. Maybe a Healer could train you, but I wouldn't care to bet money on the idea."

  "Then what..."

  "We'll bloody well invent the training. All four of us. First off, your shields are gone. That's likely to be the hardest for you to get back, but I think maybe we can deal with it in a different way for now. Hey, Fairyfoot—"

  Tantris looked up and snorted. :Yes, master of the world?:

  "Go ahead, be sarcastic."

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  :You started it.:

  "This is serious, Hayburner. Can you impose shields on her from outside?"

  Tantris looked at both of them thoughtfully. :Yes,: he said after a long pause, :but not for very long.:

  "If you can, then Rolan can—"

  :Has.:

  Kris raised one eyebrow. "Huh. I should have anticipated that. All right, I know I can; I've reinforced shielding on the kids I was teaching. So if we take it turn and turn about, can we keep her buffered so long as it's just the three of us she's dealing with?"

  :I would think so.: Tantris looked at the other Companion measuringly.

  :Rolan says to tell you we can probably even handle small gatherings of people.:

  "Better than I'd hoped. Fine. I'll take first watch. When I flag..."

  :I'll catch,: came the confident answer, :My pleasure, brother-in-soul.:

  "Did you get the drift of that?" He turned to Talia, setting up shielding around her as he spoke.

  "You're— oh, Gods! " The relief on her face was a revelation; until that moment he had not realized how much strain she was under.

  "Right. Now... having gotten that taken care of temporarily, we'll deal with the half of the problem that's dangerous to others."

  "The projecting—"

  "But not now. You're too tired to project past the end of your nose unless I make the mistake of frightening you half to death again, so that can wait.

  I'm hungry, and I want a bath."

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  Although they had used the Waymeet village bathhouse frequently, choosing a scrub by way of restorative over the sleep they had had little time for, it had been well over a day since the last time they'd gotten clean.

  Since both of them had fastidious natures, they were feeling it.

  "You go first, then. I want to groom the four-feets, and I'll wash afterward.

  I can start to smell them now, and if I don't get them pretty well clean, things could get whiffy in here. Since I'm doing Rolan, I might as well do all four of them. There's no need in both of us getting filthy."

  Kris sniffed; the air was faintly perfumed with an odor of wet wool and horse-sweat. "You don't have to do all four, but if you insist, I'll let you.

  You're ruining my lovely self-indulgence, though. If you're going to go all virtuous on me and work, I'll have to find something to do as well." He sighed heavily, and made sad eyes at her.

  She made a face at him, feeling like her old self for the first time in weeks.

  She got dressed, threw her cloak on, then took the first chirra's lead-rein.

  Chores kept them occupied for the rest of the day, housekeeping and tending to mending that had been left neglected while they ministered to the plague victims. Talia was just as happy; she was reluctant to face her problems just now when she was so emotionally raw. After a quiet bit of lunch, Kris went to take inventory of their supplies.

  There was a half-height door opposite the entrance to the station; it led to a storage shed. Kris found far more supplies there than he had dared to hope— and found some unfamiliar jars and barrels as well. He brought some of those into the Station.

  The jars held honey and oil. "Someone near here must have left these after winter set in," Kris said in surprise. "It wouldn't be safe or wise to leave them here in warm weather; they'd go bad or attract animals. That's why they're not standard stock. What's in the barrel?"

  "The oil can be used in the lamp, too." Talia opened her barrel. It held what seemed to be dried beans. Kris was perplexed.

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  "Now why..." he began, when Talia remembered something Sherrill had told her.

  "Sprouts!" she exclaimed. "To keep us from the winter sickness, if we get stuck here longer than the fruit lasts. We're supposed to soak those in water until they sprout, then eat the sprouts. They do that where Sherrill and Keren come from."

  Kris looked sober. "We may need them, too. Even if the fruit holds out, it's dried; not as good for holding off winter-sickness as fresh." He made a mental tally of all their supplies. "I think we can hold out for a month or so," he decided, from experience with being snowed in before. "And from the looks of this storm, that's exactly what may happen. It's still going strong, and by the way the sky looked today, I don't think it's going to be slackening soon."

  "Do we have enough fodder, though? Tantris and Rolan are big eaters, and we can't feed them on bark and twigs the way we can with the chirras if supplies run low."

  "There's fodder and straw baled and stacked on the other side of the shed where you can't see it, besides on the near side," Kris reassured her. "It almost looks as though whoever was stocking this Station was expecting a storm this bad. It seems odd, but I don't know enough about this area to tell you whether or not this type of weather is typical for this time of year.

  Dirk would know that better than I."

  "Whatever the reason for the abundance of suppli
es, it's a good thing for us that they're there."

  * * *

  They did something about supper, and Kris re-tuned the harp. With an inquiring glance in her direction, he began with a song that she'd sung at the Herald's revel. Taking the glance as an invitation, she stretched herself next to him and began to sing quietly. He hummed the low harmonic under his breath; his voice, though no match for Dirk's, was reasonably melodic. Behind them the Companions and chirras pricked their ears up to listen with every evidence of interest.

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  Suddenly to new voices joined in, wordlessly crooning an eerie descant.

  Talia and Kris jumped, startled, and stopped— the new voices stopped with the music.

  Puzzled, they began again, this time peering into the darkened side of the Station. After a moment, the descant resumed.

  "We!!, that's what I get for making fun of Dirk's and Harthen's tales!" Kris said in surprise. "Chirras do sing!"

  Rolan and Tantris were staring at their stable-mates with a kind of ironic astonishment. Evidently they hadn't expected the singing either. The chirras, oblivious to everything but the music around them, were reclining with their eyes closed and their heads and necks stretched upward as far as they could reach. Their throats were pulsing, and the humming was, without a doubt, coming from them.

  "Don't feel badly. I wouldn't have believed it either," Talia replied. "I mean, they look like sheep, sort of, and sheep don't sing. Probably there aren't too many people playing or singing around them, which would be why more folks haven't heard them. We never did; they were always outside in the lean-to."

  The chirras joined in happily on almost everything they played, but they particularly seemed to enjoy the livelier tunes. What was utterly amazing— apart from the simple fact that they sang at all— was what they sang. They crooned harmonics to the melody rather than following the melody itself, and usually chose the upper range in a descant. They would listen for a verse or two before joining in, but though very simple, their harmonizing always fit. Talia knew a great many human singers who couldn't boast that ability.