I reached up to squeeze his hand. “My thanks, Corwyn. I’m fine. And I don’t think either of us wants to waste any more time than necessary before we can head north. Do we?”
The man actually smiled. “Perhaps we don’t at that.”
Bowing from the saddle, he turned his gelding around. The twins looked a question to me, dark brows raised. I waved them toward their black stallions, feeling the strong need to fend for myself. I certainly can saddle my own horse, I thought looking about. My saddle was right here. Mikk, however, was another matter. Where was he?
I whistled.
He raised his head from where he grazed the thin desert grass a distance away. Cream ears tipped with black perked toward where I stood, his black mane tossing in the light wind. He whinnied. In answer to my call, he loped through the moving mixture of horses and men.
Dodging a cursing Kel’Ratan, who dropped his saddle into the sand to get out of his way, Mikk playfully bucked and careened his way through the herd. Witraz, again lifting his saddle to his piebald, was forced to spin and wheel to avoid Mikk’s hind hooves. If he cursed, he kept his voice pitched low enough that I shouldn’t hear. No few stallions pinned ears as he careened past them, perhaps cranky because they weren’t allowed to buck and play.
Mikk slowed to a trot, then a walk and put his soft muzzle in my hands. I rubbed his jaws and cheeks, grinning like a fool. He nuzzled my ear, his lips flapping in an equine kiss. Laughing, I hugged him around his massive neck, my face buried in his black mane.
“Teach that damn animal some manners,” Kel’Ratan snapped.
“He has manners,” I cooed, rubbing Mikk’s nose with my own. “He’s perfect.”
I caught Shardon’s eyes from ten rods away as he stood, saddled and bridled, while Rygel saddled Arianne’s fancy stallion. He dipped his head in a quick nod, his thick forelock all but concealing his expression. What did that mean? If he intended a message in his gesture, I sure missed it.
Kel’Ratan strangled on another curse, tightening his bay’s girth.
Tuatha shook the sand Mikk kicked over him out of his fur and waddled to me, his tail waving. Plopping back into the sand, he watched as I swiftly saddled Mikk.
“Ready to ride, small one?” I asked, glancing down at him.
He yapped up at me, but, of course, I didn’t understand what he said.
“Ready for your own horse yet?” I teased.
Tuatha sneezed, and scratched an itch behind his neck with one hind paw.
“I reckon not. Soon you’ll be big enough to run alongside.”
With Mikk ready, I bent down and picked up Tuatha. Sudden inspiration struck me. I lifted him to my face, my hands under his front legs and encased his ribcage, engaging his sapphire eyes. “Baby, who is Fire Vixen?”
His answer and Arianne’s coincided. “You are.”
I almost dropped him. “What?”
“What’s this?” Kel’Ratan demanded.
All around, activity came to a screeching halt as my boys slewed around to stare. Even Rygel turned his head, his chin on his shoulder, his hands frozen in the act of setting Rufus in that ridiculous bridle.
“It’s her wolf name,” Arianne said as though everyone knew except him.
Kel’Ratan snorted. “You don’t understand wolf,” he snapped, glaring at me. “Where’d you hear it?”
“In my head,” I said slowly, lifting Tuatha to my saddle. He perched there, peering down at me, ears raised to half-mast.
“When?”
“When Rygel was – “ I began, but cut off.
Rygel’s face paled, his amber eyes downcast. He turned back to his task as though no one had spoken at all. As though bridling the bay stallion was the most important activity in the world.
“Whose voice?”
“I don’t know.” I met Arianne’s eyes.
She lifted her head and cocked it slightly, as though listening. Her huge grey-blue eyes glazed over slightly, as she listened to voices only she could hear.
Tuatha yapped the same moment Arianne said, “Silverruff.”
My jaw went slack. “Silverruff? But I can’t hear -“
Arianne shrugged. “Perhaps in extreme moments you can. Or perhaps they can break the boundaries between wolf and human in those circumstances. I don’t really know. But Silverruff screamed your name and you heard him.”
“Fire Vixen.”
It didn’t really roll off the tongue, I thought. Yet it fit me. Sort of. My wolf name.
“What’s yours?” I asked Arianne. “What’s your wolf name?”
Rather than answer, Arianne blushed and turned away. Rygel helped her mount her stallion before vaulting into Shardon’s saddle. She wasn’t telling. I glanced up as Tuatha stared down. I considered asking him, but knew I didn’t understand wolf well enough to translate. I’ll get it out of her later, I supposed.
Seizing a handful of Mikk’s mane, I vaulted aboard. Settling Tuatha comfortably in front of me, I reined Mikk around.
“You,” Kel’Ratan demanded, kicking his horse into my path, glaring at me, “owe me an explanation.”
“I don’t.”
Dropping his reins, he waved his arms about in frustration. “All these voices speaking in people’s heads, wolves that talk and make up funny names, it’s all nonsense.”
“What’s your problem?”
“My problem?” He scowled. “How in the bloody hell does Raine know about all this? He’s what? A week’s ride to the north?”
I suspected he asked the question they all wanted to ask, but didn’t dare. Rygel and Shardon stopped. Rygel’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t turn or glance over his shoulder. Corwyn reined in close beside me, his own brows raised, his blue eyes no longer fierce. Instead, his mouth opened slightly as though prepared to ask, his brows raised, his eyes – his eyes, well, they begged.
Suddenly, I didn’t want to answer. I wanted nothing more than to keep Raine’s presence in my dreams a secret. A sweet secret only he and I knew of. Unfortunately now, it was far too late for that. None here but waited with caught breath on what I’d say next.
“I see him,” I said simply. “In my sleep.”
“Oh, well, that’s all right then,” Kel’Ratan said expansively. “What’s one more bizarre twist in this entire mad story? We hear crazy voices, daemons trying to kill you, wolves going to hell and Brutal still on our tail. What else can go wrong?”
“You might start hearing the voices, too,” I replied primly.
He snorted and reined his bay around.
“You two,” I said loudly, gathering the attention of both Rygel and Arianne. They peered at me over their shoulders. “Get cleaned up. A princess and her steward don’t look as they’d been rolling around in the dirt.”
As they proceeded to get as much dirt off their clothing as possible, I glanced about at my Kel’Hallans, Corwyn and Tor.
“Ready, then?” I asked the air in general.
For answer, warriors found their saddles, their stallions prancing beneath them, mouthing bits. Corwyn’s roan gelding flattened his ears at Tor’s grey mare as she flounced into his territorial bubble, as Tor hadn’t yet learned how to rein her properly. Tor blushed a brick red shade, his mutters scolding his errant mare until she found her place behind Yuri and Yuras’s chestnuts.
Murmurs of assent reached my ears as I gestured for Arianne to lead us. Shardon followed behind her flashy bay, with Kel’Ratan, still scowling, behind him. I sat Mikk patiently as my boys rode single file past me, offering half-hearted salutes. Left and Right sat their patient twin blacks behind me, still silently insisting on following behind me.
The canyon we had hidden in had only one entrance. A perfect hiding spot, I thought, eyeing the tall, sandy hills around us. As in my half-conscious state, the constant wind blew sand off the highest round hills in a dusty smoke streams before the heavier sand fell to the ground, creating a new hill. How did they find it? I half wondered, observing how it protected us from pry
ing eyes while we resolved our domestic issues.
Arianne led the way west, out of the canyon, our shadows long behind us.
Once we emerged from hiding, ‘twas as though we’d never left. The steady stream of marching mules, oxen, camels, horses, cattle, sheep, wagons, and people walking stirred up the filthy desert dust. We could have hidden in the noxious clouds and never been seen again. People on foot, bowed under heavy packs, never once looked up as we entered the royal Khalidian highway. Caught in its river-like flow, we found ourselves swept onto its inexorable tide. Caravan drivers, whipping their beasts with curses and loud shouts, ignored our presence as they might have ignored the constantly buzzing flies. Mercenaries, fiercely guarding their paymasters, eyed us and our weapons with suspicion before spurring hard to catch up to their wagons.
Arianne turned northward, finding a slightly less travelled road toward Ararak. We were able to drift into the irascible flux of human and animals as though belonging there. Few paid us the slightest heed, and those that did offered quick if respectful bows toward Arianne’s royal badge.
If I stood in my stirrups, I saw the tips of the tents on the distant horizon. Banners, their colors muted by distance, waved like tiny fingers. I guessed it lay but a mile, perhaps less, away.
To our left, the sun made its slow descent below the horizon. Red-orange streams of light created a magnificent work of art from the dusty, nasty desert air and dust. The drifting clouds kicked up by passing hooves and feet reflected the setting sunlight in shards of red, orange, yellow and flashes of blood-red. Had I not been so concerned with the whereabouts of passing Khalid patrols, I might have reveled in the sheer raw beauty of the desert sunset. For its simple magnificent was indeed captivating to the discriminating eye.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t concentrate on the elegant loveliness. Instead, my eyes roved for royal troops. Many I saw, holding up this caravan or that wagon train or this camel drover, searching, waiting for the ready bribe. They never failed to hold up the prosperous, the wealthy or the semi-wealthy. Mercenaries waited patiently while caravan masters offered their ‘travel passes’ to the greedy patrols.
Never did I see a royal trooper accost a poor walker with a heavy pack on his back. Those ‘honest’ patrols sought the payment the royal treasury failed to issue, I thought callously. The poor were allowed to continue, unimpeded, while those with coin or jewels or easily traded goods were halted and searched. A wry thought occurred to me: had we become poor peddlers with heavy packs, I doubt we’d have even been noticed.
Here we go again, I thought, while a patrol galloped toward us. We faced yet another search, another request for a travelling pass, the offering of the much-needed bribe. My heart skipped a beat, prepared for the worst. This time, Arianne might not read the commander’s mind and we’d be trooper-bait.
Astonished, I watched as the royal troops offered Arianne half-salutes before passing by with only their dust in our faces to remind us they’d been there at all. What? A patrol not interested in the obvious wealth of a Khalidian princess?
Arianne glanced back at me, one arched brow raised, looking a question. Could the lieutenant have sent word to all the royal troops that the Princess Irridi and her people were not to be inspected? If so, perhaps the sham had been worthwhile at that. While my body still remembered the pain of Rygel’s savage fists and feet, my heart rose. If the entire ordeal spared us more grief and suspicion from the Khalidian royal army, then it may indeed have been worth it.
Feeling more confident, I raised my eyes to the distant mountains the sun disappeared behind. Only its wealth of rays streamed upward from behind the snow-topped peaks. We’d perhaps an hour of daylight left, maybe less. I guessed them to be five days, or perhaps a week’s, ride away. Raine was up there, struggling through the mountains, one step closer to hell. If we could find a monk soon, I thought, biting my lip, we can get high into those mountains before the winter snows fell. We might catch him up before winter solstice. Before he fought his monster.
I looked about, finding no other traveler or patrol near enough to hear me speak. I passed the word up the line to the front. “Everyone get Federal coin from our stores. Each of you select items to buy: one gets wine, someone thick woolen blankets. Others find warm winter clothing. Tell the merchants you’re prospectors hunting gold, or some such tale, and need warm clothing for the mountains. We’ll also need flour, salt, grain. Up north, we’ll have nothing but what we bring with us. Rygel, you and the rest of us will find a horse or mule trader. We need more pack animals to carry the extra gear and food.”
“They’ll be overburdened,” Corwyn offered. “With all that on their horses, there will be hardly any room for them.”
I shrugged. “I know. It can’t be helped. Ride if you can, walk if you can’t.”
“Where will we meet?” Kel’Ratan asked, his chin on his shoulder.
I bit my lip, searching the desert at dusk. “There aren’t too many landmarks out there. We’ll ride northwest after buying the pack animals. All of you, ride in that direction. Bar and the wolves can guide them to us.”
“That’s not much of a plan,” Kel’Ratan remarked.
My temper flared. “Fine. Pull a better one out of that melon you call a head.”
Kel’Ratan merely sucked his teeth and turned away.
Ararak lay dead ahead, torch lights setting the not so distant horizon aglow. My eyes, still accustomed to the near dark, fastened on something. There. Off to the east of Ararak lay a mound of hills, the sun’s last rays lighting their tops. We can camp there for the night, and send out our ‘merchants’ at dawn.
“Can we get everything we need in one day?” I asked Rygel’s cat’s eyes, gleaming in the near dark.
“Probably not even that much,” he answered. “By noon tomorrow, we should have all we need.”
“Then lets pitch camp there,” I said, pointing toward the hills. “Tomorrow we’ll get our supplies and move on.”
Immediately, Arianne reined her horse to the right, trotting her horse out, lengthening his stride. As far as I could see, no one else along the royal highway turned toward those hills. Maybe, just maybe, we might have a bit of privacy this evening.
The desert night turned out to be colder than I’d expected. I shivered under a blanket wrapped tightly about me as I went about my slave’s chores. While Kel’Ratan and Rygel built up a fire, Witraz pitched Arianne’s tent almost dangerously close to the flames. His one eye gleamed with amusement as he bent his head to his task, forcing me to suppress a giggle. If invading eyes happened to peek in on us during the night, they’d see the slaves sleeping outside the mistress’s tent. Sans shelter, yet quite warm next to the blazing fire.
Left and Right hollowed out a spot in the sand and filled it with a thick fur. Twin teeth flashed in quick grins as they made my bed up for me. Another fur and a thick wool blanket waited to cover me when I lay myself down for the night. Grinning openly now, I sat on my comfortable bed and crossed my legs. Arianne sat in front of me, shivering under another blanket. Out of concern for potential prying eyes, I hung my head, my snarled hair in my face, and brushed the tangles from Arianne’s midnight tresses. The fat slug, Tuatha, crawled into her lap where she covered him in wool and warmth.
“To save time in the morning,” Kel’Ratan said, sitting down across the fire from us. “Who is going after what?”
Rygel sat down next to him, perhaps prudently thinking he should keep his distance from me for the time being. Alun and Rannon returned from their inspection of the horses while Yuri and Yuras helped Tor prepare and serve dinner. Tor, striving for originality, added roasted tubers and nuts to the rather plain fare of meat and bread. I ate mine with gusto. Though I slept after my healing from Rygel, I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and had vomited that up. Put together with my healing, my belly ached with hunger. I swallowed down my food with a manner more resembling a wolf than a human, subtly gesturing for Kel’Ratan to continue.
“For obvious
reasons,” he said, munching his own dinner. “Rygel and I must stay with Arianne. As must you, Left and Right. Tor is her page and Corwyn her aging retainer.”
Corwyn huffed, his blue eyes offended. He didn’t speak.
I nodded, filling my mouth with warmed venison. “Go on.”
“I think I, or we, rather,” Rygel said slowly, “should find the extra pack animals.”
“What about my entourage?” Arianne asked, biting off a tiny bit of bread to chew.
I leaned forward, over her shoulder, to scowl. She hastily bit off more.
“We ran off to join the royal army,” suggested Witraz, finishing the tent and accepting his own meal from Yuri. As no one was around to smack him for his lack of respect, he smirked. Until he caught my eye, that was.
“Your Highness,” he added hastily.
Kel’Ratan nodded slowly, pondering this. “That might very well work. Witraz, you and your clever mouth find blankets and tents. As many as your horse can carry. Offer whatever excuse you want, you’re a miner heading to mine gold in the mountains. Alun and Rannon, you find the extra food: flour, salt, grain, dried fruits and vegetables. And don’t forget the wine. We’ll need that for certain, with all this craziness driving us to drink. Yuri and Yuras, you purchase warm clothing, preferably of fur. Cloaks, breeches, boots, anything you can think of. Here, collect your Federate gold.”
Digging out the gold coins Brutal had given me oh so long ago, he dropped several into each waiting hand. “Remember,” he warned. “Don’t spend it all and bring back as much as you can. Make good bargains. We may need the gold later. And don’t forget your Zhou feathers.”
Murmurs of agreement coincided with the pocketing of the gold.
“Remember, boys,” I warned. “Safety first.”
Incredulous eyes met mine and slid away, embarrassed.
“Is she for real?” Witraz muttered from the corner of his mouth.
“Maybe her head got rattled,” Rannon whispered back, behind his hand. “You know.”
Prince Wolf Page 36
